Monday, 24 November 2008
I was sitting in bed on Sunday afternoon thinking about something. It was freezing cold, somewhere outside in the dark of east london a kid or a firework screamed. I was thinking about how when I was a kid I used to see every object as alive. Mostly toys but sometimes other arbitrary things that I used often enough to develop some kind of imagined rapport, pillows,VHS tapes, toothbrushes. This presented many moral puzzles in my kiddy mind of good and evil. I felt guilt for neglecting one object over another. In my head I'd be apologizing each night to the pillow that never got used because it was ugly. Packing away my toys would feel sinister. They'd be all squashed together and I'd have to put the giant wooden lid of my toy box over their soft faces. Black button eyes turned upwards without expression as I closed out the light. I'd feel their stuffed faces under the pressure of my hands as I closed the box on them. As far as I was concerned it might as well have been a box full of babies. I was wondering what I'd be like today if this "condition" had continued into adult life. If I still thought this way it'd be quite problematic.