41/?? - Backrooms Unlocked

Sometimes the locks have minds of their own.

Tarot Card of the Day: 7 of Coins

There were 4 days between post 40/?? and 41/??. I successfully wrote one thousand words a day for 40 days. And then it took 4 days to write the 41st day. The past 4 days have held more intensity and potency than the last 40. And that is saying something. I am not sure yet how much I am ready to write about the past 4 days directly.

For now, I begin with the film Backrooms. I have seen it twice now. Never has a film visually unnerved me in such a way. Regardless of the plot, this film visually took me to a place of memory and yes even madness. Things being the same and different simultaneously. The non-sequential nature of narrative pieces showing up in unpredictable and distorted ways. This is the undoing of fascism. This is the undoing of the imposed psychological structure of our perception. This is release of our coded desire. And it is terrifying.

How does one rest when there is not a sense of continuity to ones surroundings? Will we not immediately and instinctively start to create familiarity and predictability once again? This was the difference between my first viewing of the film and my second. The first time I was viscerally unnerved. The second time not as much because I knew what was coming. The predictability was much less terrifying and more, well, boring. Not that the film was boring. I just did not feel it as much in my body and I wanted more. I wanted more liminal terror. Liminal terror is the feeling of the unfamiliar, the unpredictable and the unknown taking place in an environment that is familiar. These feelings we do our best to keep locked and in the back in favor of everything being in its right place.

Last week I packed my bags the night before leaving for my trip to Lexington, Kentucky. I was taking two bags so that I could take extra items for my family. One of the bags I took had a built-in lock. This bag had some excess room in it and I forgot to pack something. When I awoke on the day of my flight I went to put the item in my bag and I could not get the lock to work. I tried. My partner tried. I looked up videos online. Nothing worked and it was time to go. I thought oh well, maybe security will check my bag and in doing so they will undo the lock. Sure enough, when I arrived in Lexington at the airport the lock was released and I could access the contents.

To prevent myself from dealing with this again, I decided to buy a different luggage lock. In theory this is a good idea. However for it to actually work I need to not misplace the new lock I just purchased. I did not end up finalizing my packing and looking for the lock until just before I left. And guess what? I could not find the lock. I looked in all the places I thought it was and could not find it so once again I am going to the airport with my bag having lock issues.

Fortunately though my other bag had a lock and this one worked. At least so I thought. When I arrived in Seattle I went to the baggage claim to collect the bags from the luggage carousel. I had a spot to get the bag right where they came out and slide onto the carousel. My bag came out, slid down and off popped the lock and it landed right at my feet! I immediately turned to my kid and said, “You saw that, right?” And she replied yes and was amazed. She had been witness to this journey of me being stuck locked in Seattle, coming unlocked in transit, the lost lock in Lexington and then the lock just popping off and landing at my feet back here in Seattle.

All of this as I attempt to unlock the coding of my mind and release a bit of the madness. And by madness I mean the untamed. The instinctual. The misunderstood. The imagination. The brilliance. The new familiar. The future mundane. This is an attempt to enter my backrooms. To reveal them to you. To allow you the space to bring your own resonance and projection to these walls that are not quite how you remember them being, but yet are still recognizable.

Yes this is unnerving for yourself and for me. I don’t like it anymore than you do, at least not at first. Then once you start to find your footing, well, we both have a lot of exploring to do. I encourage you to bring yourself as you read along with me in these essays. Listen to your body. Notice your feelings. What backroom lights flicker in you as we venture forth in the undoing of narrative and indulgence in process. Terror is to be expected. This is just excitement for the unpredictable or is it for the predictable. Either way, enjoy the rush.

If you happen to find yourself bored, note the opportunity you have to push the limits. What are you craving in your boredom? This may be the space you need to say fuck it and jump in. Let yourself write without reservation, hesitation or censorship. Allow your voice to flow with whatever comes out. And then keep going.

As I have learned recently, it is a good practice to allow yourself to just express until you discover what it is you are wanting to say or to explore. Starting to write with no direction is like starting to open the door or pass through the wall to an unexplored backroom. Yes some of the doors are locked until they are not. You can do your best to unlock them yourself, but as I have learned sometimes the locks have minds of their own.