Dream #3: Free fall City

by Christos Polydorou

Free fall city is a city of ascending stairs, escalators, elevators, helicopters, girders, cranes, and skyscrapers, all above a holy city made of water, where angels themselves turn into balls of fire and crash through cracking, bursting surfaces, sometimes turning to mermaids for a week, sometimes into an exotic school of fish swimming swiftly across the sea bed, seeking vibrantly coloured coral reefs to camouflage their bodies within. This is a city of transformation, except one does not shed their skin, but their insecurities. Or at least they have to, if they want to keep living in such an adrenalin rush of a city.

In Free fall city, learning to overcome your mortal fears is a language you learn in the following way: you are lifted by yourself to the top of a skyscraper, you find yourself on a crowded ceiling, the wind up there whipping your hair, and even an eyelash or two off your pretty face, walk right to the edge of the ceiling, climb over the railings, and jump right off.

That drop, that pull, that scare blowing through you, letting the fear wash even your fear away, that is the language you walk away with when you walk away from Free fall city. A language, which like every language, you have to practice, at least everyday, if not with another speaker of it, then by reading a book whose writer knows the language so intimately, he or she might even have some mastery over or under it. Mastery which one never dares to claim, for fearing of setting into motion a sequence of events in which the master will become a servant, but mastery which only, if blessed, is exhibited.

Our slavery is a given. No matter the future. We are all slaves of language.

Best be a slave of a good force.

Rather than a negative one.

Come visit us, in Free fall City!

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