The sky slanted and fell. It was a slow earthquake not found in Conrad's famous novella. I came to the point where I could no longer turn away and had to face the monstrous, impenetrably dark ugliness of the heart of darkness … as a thick mass illuminated by bright awakeness.
I had ceased to be "just myself". I was first of all the atmosphere, breathing itself. I was the oceans of the world. I was butterflies, soil, earthworms, fungi, bacteria. I had become the biosphere. The biosphere had become myself. I am Gaia now. Awake upon two legs, with two arms, breathing myself.
How will I speak now? How will I write? What can I possibly say? The heart of darkness is invisible to most, because to see it, to perceive it, one must be awake as Gaia, as the biosphere. The sense of being an independent being must have fallen away, and the feeling of being utterly alone which comes with it.
But to awaken in this way is to wakefully inhabit the real world, and not the dark illusions which comprise the heart of darkness. So one feels all the more alone when one drops all aloneness. What language may I use? How may I speak to this? And who can or would even listen?
The sky slanted and fell. It was a slow earthquake. I was thrown wakefully into the heart of darkness as a tender and wakeful yearning for all of us two leggeds to wake from our dark dream, this present world nightmare. Liberated, I am kept in a dark prison. How will I speak now? How will I write? How to be as awakeness in such horribly ugly darkness?
https://emergencemagazine.org/feature/breathing-with-the-forest/