I-Land is where memories and experiences turn into short stories, personal journal entries and narration in first person, part memoir, part fiction, exploring topics such as the relation between humans and the societies they live in.

Mrs. Dalloway On My Mind — An Xavier Letter Pt. 2 (One More Hit)

[Previously on Mrs. Dalloway On My Mind: It happens all around us, drags us down when we’re all repetition and no innovation, all facsimile xeroxing of yesterday’s events, losing our resolution; tried and tested and cracked, broken in not like a shoe but like a bone — cracked — on which our bodies lean, looking for support and finding none, nothing but inflammation and hurt and sudden collapse. Crippled, we wonder why this is happening . . .]

. . . not realizing how we have brought this on ourselves. From some use to too much of it and to sudden abuse, then erosion, our favorite places fall apart like organs subjected to constant scraping and banging against the same dull surface, switching things around so scarcely we injure our most exposed surfaces using the very instruments of our liberation. Our minds go numb, then start to bleed, then recede into a deep black hole of regret and addiction combined, looking for one more hit and fix to satisfy that thin grey void drilling its way inside our daily lives, looking for a little wave of warm satisfaction, a lifting from the old and familiar, instead of which we get a kick in the backside and an instruction to get out, scram, and come again, please do, bring your custom, give it another shot because we owe it to ourselves to keep trying to squeeze a little more out of our deep well of precious memories, everything we can get, we have to get it. Hit again and again the same veins until they’re all fucked up and infected and hurting like a week in the sun without skin protection, followed by a deep scrub. Our precious haunts end up harming us, our favorite joints, all of them rubbing against our skin and grating it away, digging for blood and bone. Eaten away from too much use, careless use over the years, too little variety and diversification, we shrink from the grandeur of the world. The limitations of a mind settling down to a thin composition, too thin and bland and fickle and drab. Geriatric setups with a middle-age onset. So depressing, so avoidable. Bring on the fresh spice and let the social palate reboot and rejoice. Go to the parties, share the hype and buzz, it’s all ours to pay forward and make abundant and regenerate. Pundits everywhere, players, fun people, energetic, all verve and ideas and looks with which to conquer the world, each in their own way . . .

Watch this space for Part 3

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