Are We Out of Sync?

by on June 22, 2024 :: 0 comments

photo "Hatchet Job" by Tyler Malone

Let’s imagine a road map glowing in the dark. Every landscape feature, every line, every contour flickering, radiating; leading to a destination. Some, just tiny flashes of light, inconspicuous, almost unnoticeable, and others intense, pulsating, effervescent. All driven by a single objective of transporting information from point A to point B like a postman delivering our breath in tiny envelopes, bonding us together.

For optimal functioning, everything has to be in sync; so do our bodies. As the most complex organ, our brain has been a topic of scientific research for hundreds of years. We use it and we lose it (no pun intended). We dissect it and we anatomize it. It’s not an easy task as it stores 80+ billion nerve cells. These tiny neurons are the reason why miscommunication happens. A single cell pockets thousands of synapses, from sensory input and motor commands to electrical and chemical signals. Intertwined in an embrace like intimately interlaced strands of hair.

Let’s imagine a mundane situation – you see her, and your face lights up, a hummingbird’s tune caressing the inner ear, a soft touch triggering a horripilation of the skin, the aroma of freshly made pastries evoking a memory of Grandma kneading the dough – all because the message has been sent, the signals providing data needed to stay in touch. Without them, we are just empty shells, microscopic specks in the luminous astral system.

As you ingest iodine-based contrast, your insides scintillate like bulbs on a Christmas tree, looking for that minuscule code of miscommunication, the broken link, interrupted connection. Your body, an out-of-sync map, a discordant note trapped in the fragile frame of flesh and bones, linked to a technologically backed environment. Looking around the white sterile room, you pretend. Your intrepid alter ego keeps you sane. After all, you never allowed yourself to think you might end up on the other side of the lead glass. You are still young… at least young at heart, but not nearly as ready for the finality of your mortal construct.

Ping.
.
Ping.
.
Ping

This is when you realize that on some days the incongruous findings can be patched up, even fine-tuned, but on others, the only information we are left with is that our story is coming to an end.

An interminable layer of our existence never envisioned to be fully comprehended, merely synced.

editors note:

It’s a nightmare, the days we have. But aren’t they worth it, you know, as research? ~ Tyler Malone

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