Life Sta(ge)[te]

A strange feeling kept him aware that he shouldn't even know what those words meant. He was seeing things from other realities, from different time lines on fictious universes. And even so, he could understand everything.

He dealt with patterns from different cultures, building thoughts impossible to his brain's very biological structures. Transversal analyses compared infinitly different social phenomena, uniquely complex bioms, and literature that evaded any symbolic system. Logicaly dancing clouds of interpretation transmuted rapidly underneath his stunned mask. Eyes that could not follow the everchanging lights remained unfocused, as ears turned to itselves, hearing nothing but a very low buzz, that varied lazily in no apparent relation to what happened outside.

Nothing, absolutely nothing, no structure that could ever exist on any of those worlds, would have been able to hold in memory everything that went through his senses, instantly transmuted into pure thought, that kept it's essence on a present idea, but existed only between the previous and next stages of a non-linear evolution.

Still, that did not bother him, as he craved only for a fresh step on his kaleidoscopic mindwalk. Leaving everything behind, on every next moment; being whole and newborn for each door that opened. Hoping, with a conscious melancholy lingering on the backstage of his burning impetus, only to reach that impossible conclusion before this surreal life-dreaming ended - before movement ceased, questions vanished and lights went off

.