BEGIN a memoir piece by JMI The luminescent lights are bright and blinding. The room is made of sterile white tile on every surface. There are sinks and metal tables with little cushion. Giant beings surround me with masks over their mouths and light blue gowns covering every centimeter of their bodies. Their hands are plastic clamps used to maneuver my delicate and dirty frame. I am alone in the room with the giants. They make noises that I do not yet understand. Where am I from? I am taken to the sink and rinsed of my mother’s fluids. In this sink I become soft and pliable. I am now my own entity, but what am I? I can barely see. I see light and shapes. Each minute my sight grows stronger and I begin to be aware of myself. I am a mini giant. My limbs are small and extend only a few inches from my main ball of flesh. My fingers and toes are minute, but sensitive to every touch and movement. My form is doughy and not distinctly designed. I return to my mother and suck nourishment from her dangling mounds. I am now in a small box. There is an opening where light finds its way through orange drapes. It breaks off into shadows and forms. I am shown what is around me through this portal in my box. I see soft and happy objects. I see forms foreign to my brand new brain. What are these? Why are they here? The giants talk to me and I begin to understand the meaning of their sounds. They pick me up, feed me, and clean me. Why do they do this? I feel their mass touching mine. I taste the mush that I am forced to swallow. I smell the stink of waste and the freshness of bathing. How would I feel if they did not do this? Sometimes I leave my box and enter the larger box that contains mine. This box has many more objects with many more shapes and many more purposes. I cannot reach anything in this room because the talking giants will not allow me to. They hold me at a distance from the things that move, make sounds, show pictures, and spell out words. Some things are only there to be looked at and serve no function. What are they for? Every few times that the sun rises and sets, I am taken outside of the box containing my box. Outside the box everything is different. Many other giants of all shapes, colors, and sizes move around in no particular order. The ground feels different everywhere I am set down, sometimes wet and sometimes smooth. Sometimes it is soft and sometimes it is hard. My mother holds me close and only sometimes lets the other giants hold me. She always stands near and takes me back safely. How did I get here? Why am I so lucky? I cannot ask these questions to the giants yet. I cannot make the sounds into words, but I can understand them. Outside the box, I am not the same. Am I? Outside the box, I am not safe and comfortable. I am not the center of attention and only a small part of the big picture. What is the big picture? There is no end to the outside of the box. It is the opposite of the box, or maybe just a giant box with sides that I cannot see. I see, smell, taste, hear, feel, and wonder about everything. Who am I? Why am I here? I have a lot of time to answer these questions, and each time the sun rises and sets, I get closer to understanding what all of this means.
Posted on: Sun, 07 Jul 2013 05:10:06 +0000
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