The Starling Man

I am walking along the street and I perceive the building structures from both my usual perspective as well as from my other simultaneous incarnation. The other form of mine is that of a thirty foot tall wooden puppet without strings that possesses both a huge toothy grin, wide staring eyes and an unpainted wooden top hat. He sees the buildings as if they are models on a film set.

This is quite obviously somewhat bizarre. The idea that I see the buildings from both aspects is not at all disconcerting, though. The strangest notion is that my other form is only able to see the main street next to where I live. To him nothing exists beyond. There are no lines receding to the event horizon nor shadowy forms of definitive physical existence; just the street. The street has many interesting buildings along it, a myriad of architectural forms. Beyond is nothing. Not space, not emptiness, not pretty colours; just nothing. Maybe nothing simply exists beyond the street but I am far too philosophical for that. I think that my thirty foot tall wooden puppet form simply has defective eyesight. Maybe his senses are unable to perceive anything other than the bright, alluring and garish lights of the street. I personally believe that a world may exist beyond. Then again, I cannot tell. Who can?

Some people may suggest (as has been mentioned) that my other form possesses neither gelatinous eyeballs nor a visual cortex, thus being the reasoning for his lack of visual acuity. I disagree. I can determine small details perfectly well through him as long as he focuses entirely upon the strangely small and fragile buildings on the street.

Actually, I hesitate to refer to my tall wooden form as a 'he' as I do not believe that 'he' actually has genitalia and therefore I neither believe 'him' male nor female. It simply exists. The masculine pronoun is predominant in English and therefore I use such a formality. Yet I notice that without such context the form is simply 'it' and I know he isn't simply an 'it' as he exists within myself as much as I do in him. It is a most peculiar symbiotic relationship.

Well, I say symbiotic because I know he is not a parasite within myself and I guess I am not a parasite within him. I perceive to a greater magnitude but what does he gain? Life? My own thoughts? The sensation of a multitude of firing neurotransmitters? I do not know.

I do not believe I have created an adequate description of my other form. He also possesses a perfectly cylindrical body. It is approximately twice as long as it is wide.

The other night I walked along a road off the side of the main street and was able to utilise my dualistic visual apparatus perfectly normally. It was only a short road and was paraded by old Victorian style houses with three floors. I decided to allow my other form to peer into one of the upstairs windows. It was well lit with a shimmering picture box around which people of a similar age were comfortably seated around. I watched them for a time observing their strangely catatonic states. It was dark outside yet there was no curtain drawn. Eventually, one of the females glanced to the window and saw the face of my wooden form with his huge toothy grin and wide staring eyes staring in. She screamed. Then she leapt up and screamed again. All the others with her, male and female alike, began screaming too. They appeared to be a little confused and disorientated as well as frightened. None of this I could understand. After a period of time I noticed a beautiful blue stroboscopic flash illuminating the archaic dead stones of the surrounding buildings. The source of which, a little pretty car, pulled up behind of me. A man got out and talked to me. He wasn't very friendly. The people still appeared scared. The man, who wore a silly little flat hat with a squashed chess board pattern, asked what I was doing. I replied that I was watching the people with curiosity. He then asked as to whether I would move along to which I replied that of course I would when the chronology required it, such as when I became less fascinated with the people (or bored) or when I felt the needs of my lower self such as tiredness or hunger, both of which would require nullifying. To this he asked if I was taking the piss to which I answered that I did not understand. The little man then played upon his biological programming by displaying negative emotions, none of which I cared to observe. Thereupon I wandered back home and sat in my dark room with the curtains open.

The reason why it is dark in my room is because my lightbulb has died but it is too high to change without the stepladder I do not possess.

If you are wondering how I manage to help my other form into the room, don't despair. He dissipates into a simple understanding of depth in all its various dimensions until I go back into the night. I am always awake when it is dark. This is because daylight bores me and sunlight makes me shiver. It's true.

I spend most of my time wandering the street at night. It is a fascinating experience. People and cars take form at both ends of the street, pass by with various velocities, and then become a disassembled non-existence at the opposite side of the street. Sometimes I wonder where they came from or where they go, and so has the giant wooden form, but he knows that they simply form from nothing and disperse to nothing. This is inevitably fascinating as the little forms appear to have life whilst they move. Some go into the various brightly lit shops and sometimes even return in possession of boxes, bags, bottles or intoxication. I do not associate with these forms. I worry that I will be dissociated from both my existence’s by them.

Although I am only usually conscious during the dark hours I am also rarely an observer in light as there are more people to watch. The people intrigue me intensely. They remind me of the people I dream about; the 'dream people' as I call them. The dream people also have no existence except the snippets I observe in sleep. I often wonder if they are the same people I observe when I am awake. The difference is that those in sleep are vaguely the same at times. They are almost the same people I dreamt of before, either as an independent entity or an amalgamation with others. Usually, they appear just the once and then are gone, just as those I see when awake.

Someone once told me time appears in flashes rather than a linear mellifluous motion. So now and then when I traverse the street I begin blinking my eyes frantically. I wondered if my blinking may one day match the frequency of time itself. If this happened I imagine that I will no longer be able to observe time. It would certainly be interesting if it happened, though unfortunately I have yet to succeed in this.

There is also a park around the corner from my house. When I go there my forms tend to coalesce. Sometimes I do look over the trees and buildings around, though usually I simply absorb a sense of freedom that my existence imparts. I do feel awkward, however, as many people move through the park, even in darkness. If I attempt conversation they shun me and I feel embarrassed for doing so. So I try not to even look at them yet they often stare at me so I try to avoid being near anyone. I wish the park was infinite in its dimensions, without people. When I thus imagine it so I am most content.

There is something else that enters my mind when I think of the park. There are many birds there. There are sparrows and there are seagulls. Once, during the day I saw the fire brigade rescuing a seagull from a tree. It had apparently trapped a wing on a branch and after about an hour the group of firemen were able to rescue it. However, there is another bird in the park that fascinates me more than any other and I have heard it called a starling. It is a beautiful bird whose plumage twinkles like an iridescent constellation wrapped within many indefinable colours. I remember hearing that all life originates from the stars. I heard that stars can only produce specific gaseous elements and the less frequent heavier metal. However, when a star explodes its many atomic residues are sometimes able to form into larger clusters of atoms, and that it is through this that the heavy elements essential for all life as we know it are able to form. By this process only. So we are the living dust of stars. And from their molecular interactions we gain life (as we call it). We are animated with needs and desires within our infinitesimally small existence. Ultimately we desire love and reproduction before we re-enter that stage of being inanimate star dust again.

I sometimes wonder about starlings. Are they some secret portal through which we may observe our existence or are they simply a coincidentally created, or should I say named, construct? I observe them with intense interest.