Coming back from the void involves acclimatising to everything that continues to be real, despite all evidence pointing to the fact that it isn’t. It involves remembering, everyday, that there is a certain linearity of thought that has come to define the parameters within which thinking should happen. That this linearity is expected… demanded… from all by all. It is me trying to understand my brother, trying to understand our parents, trying to understand the village, trying to understand the world.
All understanding is reductive.
Making things real includes ignoring all the things they could be. A chair is only defined by it’s utility as a an object to sit on. To a child it is easily a rocketship. Understanding is also propaganda. The child will not agree to Big Parent telling them that it is actually a chair to sit on, not a rocket ship to crawl within. Any attempts to forcefully put the child in the chair will be met with resistance – as would any human do to an authority imposing their will.
Coming back from the void involves once more acclimatising to the real unreal. Remembering that, even though it feels like the G forces are high all around you and you’re hurtling across the sky at the speed of light, it’s a chair – and you should probably sit down.