It was one year ago today that I saw the light. Or eleven years ago. 1, 11, 111. It’s all the same, really. I was trying to make sense of something, I don’t quite remember what, trying to weave an elaborate narrative around nonsense. Looking for patterns. I suppose we all do that. We try to find meaning in the meaningless, sense in nonsense.
I remember that day – one or eleven or one hundred and eleven years ago — because I was staring into that exact same corner as that exact same ray of light fell slowly down upon it and I was thinking about geometry. Today, something terrible – really awful – happened. Geometry can explain so much with so few rules. It always makes sense. Maybe today I’m thinking about God.
I’ve had this nonsensical string of words in my head for weeks now. Before, it was just syntax devoid of semantics. Today it feels sinister.
Maybe I’ve just been thinking about it too hard. I found this note on the floor. It looks like my handwriting.
e lt ne
Now I can’t remember what it means.