Depending on how my mind chose to look at it, the wall moved. I wanted to learn something about the nature of reality. What I learned was that nothing is solid.

I was twenty. I sat in a room on First Street in the Lower East Side looking at the wall in front of me and began to imagine its receding and its coming closer. Depending on how my mind chose to look at it, the wall moved. I wanted to learn something about the nature of reality. What I learned was that nothing is solid. Words were like those walls, receding and coming closer; I couldn’t speak what was in me ; my thoughts were full of holes and the holes were easily filled with intense emotions. If I wasn’t careful I would be swept away, so I had to write.

via The Perforated Map, and Writing the Unknown by Elena Rivera.