A veil. A harness. A rope.
Do psychiatrists register the complex and rich vibrations produced by their dreaming subjects? The indigo or emerald-green crown that coats the hair and shoulders of an interviewee, erasing distinctions between what is outside, the sky, and what’s beneath it? What digs into the head?
“The emanating structures appear in the light that comes from the body, and it is these structures that perform a rudimentary narrative.” A memory or two?
But to write this narrative is not to split it, for which an antidote is commercially produced in quantities that exceed populations. A schizophrenic narrative cannot process the dynamic elements of an image, any image, whether pleasant, enriching or already so bad it can’t be tendered in the lexicon of poses available to it.
I need a new pen.