"Like a whirpool, my head is spinning"
The world is the whirlpool, not my head. I stand, and immediately lilt to the right, tilting and lurching and nearly falling, which happens almost every time I stand. When I sit up, I sometimes fall over sideways, too disoriented to maintain vertical posture.
The experience is all-comsuming - overruling any other data my sense of sight tries to collect.
I am forced to recognize I have come to take equilibrium for granted. The ability to sit, stand, walk, let alone drive all rely on equilibrium. When the ability to perceive the world and engage in movement is thwarted, stillness becomes a preferred state and a limiting factor simultaneously.
Even as I sit now, and type, I can feel a sense of un-balance. I tilt my head to one side to counter the angling of the room, or more accurately stated, my perception of the angling of the room.
I ponder the perplexity of gravity and coordination. Why when I cannot gauge my equilibrium, does my body give up vertical and fall flat. The spinning and disorientation does not stop. As I lie prone I feel the room tilt and spin under me, even as it does not move at all.
I capitulate to the sensation. I am subjugated to the sensation.
Spin, and tilt, oh world, and I
will not the maker of change be
but realize limits
await balance
laugh at the absurdity, me.
The experience is all-comsuming - overruling any other data my sense of sight tries to collect.
I am forced to recognize I have come to take equilibrium for granted. The ability to sit, stand, walk, let alone drive all rely on equilibrium. When the ability to perceive the world and engage in movement is thwarted, stillness becomes a preferred state and a limiting factor simultaneously.
Even as I sit now, and type, I can feel a sense of un-balance. I tilt my head to one side to counter the angling of the room, or more accurately stated, my perception of the angling of the room.
I ponder the perplexity of gravity and coordination. Why when I cannot gauge my equilibrium, does my body give up vertical and fall flat. The spinning and disorientation does not stop. As I lie prone I feel the room tilt and spin under me, even as it does not move at all.
I capitulate to the sensation. I am subjugated to the sensation.
Spin, and tilt, oh world, and I
will not the maker of change be
but realize limits
await balance
laugh at the absurdity, me.
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