Somewhen Over the Rainbow…

Everybody’s gotta be somewhere.

That ‘somewhere’ could be over the rainbow, wearing ruby slippers and running from the Wicked Witch.  It could be in a dark alley, running from an attacker, hoping the shadows will hide you, protect you, wrap you in their cloak of warm night.  Somewhere could be sprawled on a sofa watching Coronation Street, with a box of Maltesers and a cup of tea to keep you company, running from the stresses of the day.
But you’ve just got to be somewhere.

Whatever the tensions or reliefs your life may pounce upon to leave at your feet like the half eaten remnants of cat for its beloved owner, you will always find yourself there.
But, what if you didn’t?  What if Somewhere was just the same as, well, somewhere?  That makes perfect sense in my head.  It doesn’t make so much sense written down.  It’s as if the words looked at each other, went ‘Huh?’ and fell about laughing.
I mean, somewhere could be Oz, an alley or on your sofa.  But what if actually being in a place at all was something you could choose?  What if you could take yourself out of PLACE completely?  WHERE was a pin on a map and all you needed to do was step off the map into nowhere?  The Wicked Witch and the potential attacker would never find you.
Granted you’d also not be able to buy Maltesers or tea bags.
But, what if?
Would you float in darkness?  Would there be a sort of murky light, hinting at the periphery of your vision so you weren’t sure if it existed at all or if your mind was simply filling in gaps it thought your brain had suddenly realised had appeared?  Would you feel substance?  Would you feel?
I suppose you wouldn’t.  I suppose your senses wouldn’t be able to take that step with you and would have to mill around on the precipice, passing the time by playing leap frog with each other and games of I Spy.  Not that you would know what Time was, of course.  Not that Time would know what Time was, either.  Nowhere would have to be nowhen, too.  Time would have nothing to hold on to.  Nothing to stroke with its decaying touch.
Would you find yourself standing in a crowded room, surrounded by the spirits of those who had lived and passed, each waiting for something that couldn’t happen because waiting was wasted when there was no Time to count the passing seconds.  Or seconds to count.
Fears and foes would be unable to reach you there.  So would wit, wishes and wonder.  Good and bad, opposite sides of a tossed coin curling in the air, could only watch as you spun endlessly in a field of emptiness.
Everybody’s gotta be somewhere.
But what if…?  Nah.  There’d be nowhere to plug in your kettle.

2 Comments

  1. Nice article, Shaun. As always, you have me pondering…:)

Leave a Comment

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *