12. There’s something about walking through doorways which I find almost mystically appealing. I imagine some silly part of me is always in giddy anticipation of what could possibly be beyond whatever side of a threshold I find myself. Even after I’ve gone through a doorway many times in both directions there’s always a subtle, subdued sense in me that this time could be different. It’s that same allure of standing at the entrance of some path leading into the depths of a forest which leads me to imagine that some secret Promised Land or New Eden is just waiting for me to transcend my own world by simply entering into it. Of course no matter what threshold it is that I cross or what room or realm I enter into it all inevitably just ends up being the next place I will yearn to leave. All the civilized spaces are just the grid coordinates which wrap the entire world within its vast yet cloistering cage. Even the apportioned plots reserved for nature cannot be occupied for more than a mere moment before a strong sense of ballagàrraidh (an awareness that I don’t belong in nature) makes me feel as if I’m being strangled rather than embraced by this earthly essence. It often seems as if the only welcome in this world comes from whatever place it is that I am leaving as it ushers me into any realm away from its own, as it only welcomes the chance to be rid of me. Perhaps I too tire of my surroundings in this same way, and this is really why I welcome doorways, so that I may avail myself of these realms which are far too insufficient to inhabit, and which I am insufficient to inhabit as well. I suspect that even when I am finally ushered unto that final realm of death that I will still find myself searching for some other threshold to cross no matter how dismal or delightful such an ethereal place may be. But enough about doorways. I want to move along into something else now.
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