Status Updates From Basal Ganglia

Ingrid has decided the circles will be her son’s name. A name that fights verbalization, but a name that encapsulates everything a name seeks. In their world of unuttered names, a name should rise above its spoken form, becoming more than speaking allows. It is tailored to their fort world. It clings to its belly.

Probability suggests neither Ingrid nor the baby intend harm upon him or the fort. It is natural for one to seek the continuation of life, the advent of legacy. Were it not for the drive exemplified by Ingrid, life could not continue. How can one place blame on a baby for existing? These logical tangents only add guilt to Rollo’s mounting paranoia.

Ingrid resides in the pit of Rollo’s stomach, churning his anxiety into thick butter. His role in the baby’s creation feels perfunctory. Just enough to satisfy the basic criteria in which the baby can be considered theirs rather than hers. The residual bewitchment of her hands has evaporated, yet he feels no more control over his agency. He moves against himself to satisfy her.

Ingrid summons Rollo after they have eaten, a gesture which confuses him. In a severed past exists a time where one summoning the other regularly occurred. Implicit in the arrangement were a series of mental calculations where one would try and ascertain the potential cause of the summons. Tone of voice, word choice, and body language were used to determine the gravity of the situation.

Rollo and Ingrid entered the fort with married purpose. Their love destroyed the possibility of space existing between them. This union bore no trace of the pathogenic orchestrations conducting disease. The unattended cracks were there, waiting with a statue’s patience. Fertilizing pathogenic soil and sprouting illness. A relationship wants to destroy itself and will work toward this end.

A child builds a fort for many reasons. Common to most children is a drive to understand a world dictated by them. Within the walls of these basic structures are eruptions of imagination. A blanket draped over two chairs transcends its constitution, becoming limitless. It is a structure that garners meaning via the hands that build it. The eyes that behold it.

He forgets so much. Written language has escaped him. There are words he sees when his eyes are closed, but these mental words cannot be conveyed in written form. He wishes everything could be communicated in numbers. Numerical values can convey untold complexity. Numerical values can calculate the world. Yet there is no number that equates to Ingrid. If there is, he has not managed to find it.