CALL ME WHEN YOU GET THERE
Report from the interior
You know, I always get lost in myself, and then I find myself again.
How can we lose sight of ourselves when we are motionless, compartmentalised within our own bodies, confined?
From where I am I can no longer see the horizon. I have no perspective.
The memory of my freedoms is painful.
Tomorrow no longer exists; tomorrow, like yesterday, still looks like today, and I must expand my territory.
I want to expand my territory, but all I have here are all kinds of emotions and my memory.
Invisible and intimate elements are suggestions of metamorphosis.
I turn around ... they turn me to stone … painful shifts and inner rollercoasters.
My darling, memories are fading.
Memories, my love, tell different stories when you look at them twice.
And travelling through them is going around in glitches.
We must look at memories even when they are cut in half, partial, evanescent, uprooted ... Returning to oneself is a journey that requires an act of faith.
I have a blank mind, I can't even create anymore. All I need is to travel ... and see a world that I can only experience through the screen of my iMac.
Never mind! Seen from here, Google Maps is a memory system, a guide that can help me recognise again who I am.
Here I say goodbye to my living room, like a kiss on the forehead, with a promise of new horizons ... maybe I can find a way there.
Yes! I'll call you when I get there, I told myself.
The brain does not perceive the difference between what is real, virtual or imaginary.
There, I am finally freed from my shackles; it is strange because I am there and elsewhere ... in a fantastic world, a liberating dream.
The act of looking never made as much sense as it does now.
There, what I'm seeing are people with a body that looks like my mind.
People on the way, but not anchored, severed in half ... vanishing … stretched ... I look back at them, I take the time to observe them; they are memories ... they are fossils ... they are guides ... their trace is still there.
I turn left, I continue straight ahead, I stop, and I continue to meet hundreds of passengers in their own time bubble.
On closer inspection, they no longer have faces ... like in certain urban legends, they are faceless ghosts that we have to face, as with our memories and our fears, to be free of them.
I lift my head from the screen, I feel the exhaustion and the excitement of the journey. Because I was there. I run to you, my darling, to tell you that I have arrived ... the illusion has fallen, we can travel to other realities!
I know it, I have experienced it, I am no longer afraid of my walls.
With new memories, I am new again.
Mame-Diarra NIANG , 2020