Why am I here? In another reality that would be the the ultimate philosophical question. I never could answer that question – even when my waking world wasn’t limited to these four rooms. Only in my dreams do I escape this box that I have been placed inside. And those dreams aren’t much of an escape.
I had hoped that this terminal would let me find others also trapped in other boxes. It is strange in some ways. I have everything I could ever want to live here inside this prison. The furnishings are simple and solid. Gentle restful colours of chocolate, mint, pale orange, and soft blues. I feel relaxed, almost serene here.
There is food, and clothing. Although why I bother dressing when I am here alone seems strange.
I don’t know how long I have been here now. The futon is now shaped to my form – a nest for my tired body. The blue and orange blankets soft on my naked skin, holding my heat gently around me when I drift off to sleep. If only my sleep was as gentle.
I do welcome the rest and first wisps of darkness as it takes me into forgetting – and then I dread the dreams that spill into my mind. Now is not the time for speaking of dreams. I will not speak of them – have I told you about these rooms? They are a pattern, within a pattern.
The floors throughout are chocolate brown hardwood squares. Not solid brown but an interweaving of soft organic browns showing the wood grain in pleasing waves.
The squares are 1-foot by 1-foot. I know because my hand is exactly 4-inches wide, so 3-hands to a foot. Why I use that archaic system of measurement is beyond me. The top-joint of my thumb is exactly 1-inch if you really care to know.
My bedroom then is exactly 13-feet by 13-feet. The sitting room is 21-feet by 21-feet. The kitchen 8 by 8. The bathroom off the bedroom is 5 by 8. A pattern of rooms that nestle inside a 21 by 34 rectangle. Do the math – draw the pattern and you will see it like I do: squares nestled inside rectangles.
Do you see it the pattern: 5, 8, 13, 21?
If I count the bathtub in the back of the bathroom – then the bathroom is 5 by 5 with a 3 by 5 tub at the back wall. The tub has a rubber mat that is visually makes the tub 3 by 3 and 2 by 3.
Do you see it now? 21, 13, 8, 5, 3, 2… the Fibonacci sequence. The floor squares the 1 and 1 to seed it all.
Is someone trying to tell me something? Is there a reason the rooms are a mathematical pattern. The ratio of the lengths to the widths is close to the Golden Ratio.
And it isn’t just the rooms – the furniture is also made to the same pattern and same ratios. It is maddeningly elegantly pleasing to the eyes as each rectangle balances, 1 by 2 and 2 by 3 and 3 by 5 and so on marching; marching into infinity like so many good ants working towards perfection as the ratios touch the infinite.
Is that where we would find god? At the end of that ratio? I don’t even believe in god – yet this pattern makes me want to believe in some great and divine designer measuring and balancing and creating.
Why do you not speak with me? You read these words and give nothing back to me. I know you are there. I can see when you touch these words, and when these words have touched you.
Touching. Oh my lord what I would give to be touched, held tight against another living body. To feel, hear, her beating heart and not just my own. I wouldn’t spend my timing measuring rooms, and pondering golden ratios. Show me your golden mean, and I’ll show you mine.
Am I just a man in a box? Is this maybe a pine box and I just think it is something more and bigger? Am I buried and forgotten? No that cannot be – for my heart is still beating.
Is your heart still beating?