s.wordthruheart

 I walked into the fog of a spell avoiding it was impossible for I was born blind (blindness the sin – see at any cost) like all, a fog lain over the land where we dwell: see it too late – it covers itself. when all becomes fog, world becomes bathed in gray we become accustomed to limited spectrums within our conception what breaks our perception? given a cure – then it's taken away or diverts the curse into new dimension: symbols are abstracts; the ocean is mere introspection look inward, into the fog – fog has settled there now you're buried in air! and water but not the waters of life; you come to think you are the cause all misery it stems from within outwardly one bears on arm a tattoo St. Mary the Virgin – she speaks through symbols lift the fog in spirit symbols are living: we, animated frightening for man to be put in his proper place beneath spirits but man is no monkey collection of beating molecules eating and moving toward nothing within...

THE LEDGE Part 1 EXT. CHRISTMAS MARKET A man stands alone in a noisy crowd, his head raised slightly above those around him. He stares flatly ahead, his mouth closed and straight. The wide crowd around him are babbling but he cannot discern any conversation as they cut across each other in a web of noise. The crowd falls out of focus. The ocean of noise gradually becomes muted and his own voice comes forward in clarity. MAN It has been this way for years. I cannot solve my biggest problem. The world doesn't react to my touch. It is as if I am behind the glass. I don't touch anyone and nobody touches me. What happens to me doesn't depend on me. I'm at the mercy of the hand. It is only by its whim that I come into the world to touch something, until just as suddenly it pulls me back, even in the middle of a breath. In my world there may be silence for twenty years and a waterfall for five minutes. In that five minutes a life screams, being born. But then ...