Fiasco Press

www.fiascopress.org

Journal of Swarm Scholarship

The Phenomenology of Dissolution / Disillusionment Shafni Awam

Affectation is a/effective. Rivers run amuck, perpetually crumbling levees separating reality and illusion. Hyper aware. (Consciousness), its derivative i observe(s) (its)/my-self transition into sleep. Levees crumbling, seams undone thru interweaving. Echoing in from uncanny distance, perceptions seem more intense, hyperreal i suppose. Estranged. Starring at mirror looking into eyes, seemingly foreign eyes, (i) touch (my) body (i) felt (my)self feeling, this is (my) body. For a moment it seemed like i embodied the negative space: connecting reflection with source. Seamless i guess. When becoming unconscious, the loci of Imagination seem to be independent of ordinary conscious input, transforming into a Temporary Autonomous Zone Of sorts. A visceral shuffle between imaginary and imaginal realms. Eyes fluttering, flapping in-between light and hallucinations making up for its absence. When becoming unconscious, becoming = whizzing thru swirling tunnels of sensations, fracturing, colliding, multiplying, dividing imbricating

Fiasco Press

www.fiascopress.org

Journal of Swarm Scholarship

seamlessly. A hybrid of (sexual reproduction) X (binary fission), birthing a synesthetic orgy of mutating sensations. Events: (past) - (future), cant delineate. It is not that i am losing consciousness, forced to wormhole into a dream state rather, a theater of shattered sensations, enmeshing, highly absurd and intensely meaningful. Elephants succumbing to an icy corridor, the army, a blur of skin, hide, fur, steel, wicker and body odor. Pelted into clay stoned hushness by a swarm of sparrows. Fodder, half chewed, moaning, adenium icicles, splattering, splintering into the dusty earth. Honeying light dissipating, rock cold air, unsettling the gloom. i feel cold, sweaty, eyes squinty, palms clammy, mouth dry, heart racing, for a moment, the world receded into alien alterity, what, where, who swiveled about is disorienting amness? Yes all this seems strangely familiar" "(i) feel like (my) ordinary self again, (whatever that means) Thou art that. That is what eludes me, Art discloses that perhaps, Maybe not, who knows? Not me. "Nothing in the real world is as beautiful as the illusions of a person about to lose consciousness." Haruki Murakami