The Veiled I
It has been said by some that I am a sensationalist. This would mean that I do not write about the truth it would mean that I embellish it for the sake of literary reasons.
This sensationalist viewpoint of my writing could not be further from the truth.
As a testament to this I have taken two pictures: both of an entry from my personal journal; one up close of my own drawing as a cover photo, another of the journal entry itself as a whole.
That my pictures suffer for quality is a sign that I take them all with my own cell phone. Lacking the ability of a bona fide photographer the text of the picture below is typed here for clarity:
“It came to me while falling asleep, and seemed to materialize itself out of the darkness. The texture itself was like polished onyx, the depiction above was the overall shape I perceived while the entire surroundings stayed somehow a different shade of black. I cannot recall now whether the thin sheet or ribbon around the I was itself a black or white but the experience of seeing it I clearly remember: I spoke in a clear and sure voice inside my head and said ‘my I is veiled’.”
I do not write dates or times in my personal journal: time as we know it is a man made invention. I do however remember that this was approximately ten years ago and that I had stopped on the side of a road running through the Mojave (I40) to take a nap. It was specifically: some time during the night.