Fabricated Evidence
The present text attests to a series of attempts to fabricate evidence. It is ambivalent whether some or all of these efforts are being carried out to hijack circumstantial reality through mimesis. Or else, whether the aim of their fabrication may be camouflage, enabling them to remain undetected by the suspicious eye, as it attentively scans for clues in order to piece the facts together.
It all starts with the sighting of a milk tooth on a rooftop. And then another[1]. And then another. It thus becomes clear that what could otherwise be interpreted as the innocent surrendering of this impermanent body part, is in fact the first step in a solid trail of evidence running up, down and around the space under that roof.
If we were to follow from this point onwards, simply climbing down the ladder unambiguously, things would not hold up[2]. So let’s take each sighting for what it is: a fabrication. It is only then that things may begin to fall consistently into place. Some of these literally fall stacked on top of one another, blending the individual into a larger collective body (posing a higher threat) [3], while others drop from a deliberate and recorded height, their shapes describing the anatomy of their fall.
Following the logic of the trail, some attempts succeed at displacing the imprint of their own memory carved in wood[4], carved once to record, and once more to predict. Others opt to slow down the otherwise slow process of observing the subtle unfolding of the inevitable to a halt[5].
In case anyone attempts to move too fast and make precipitated assumptions all too promptly, be warned of the quick deployment of a discrete but implacable sharp device[6] that will slow your pace down, no matter what.
Other instances of fabrication pretend conceal evidence in plain sight, like the swelling in that deactivation device, unable to hide the real fact that just below under its undulating shapes, there lies a plump chrysalis hiding a butterfly that will imminently, and actively fly off [7]. (It is no coincidence that the French language has only one word -voler- for the verbs to fly and to steal).
To exhaust all possibilities, look above and below any surfaces for any and all possible trails left behind by anyone, insects included[8]. Whether walking in single file with a collective purpose, or fossilised in the moment of conflict[9], beetles and bugs of all kinds should not be overlooked. Overlooking may result in misinterpretation, and cause you to slide down the ladder of conclusion, all the way back to the beginning, into the depths of the boa’s throat[10].
Some conventional clues -a smoking gun, a dripping egg- may lie in plain sight, seemingly providing a helpful connection between points A and B. But be aware not to focus on the ends, and rather keep your interest along the trajectory: the former tug between them, the battle rope, so to speak. Consider the tension that once stretched between them[11], or the locking fingers[12] that once held them together.
Some devices link, while others put themselves forward, heightening the dramatic narrative[13], just in order to push the subtext.
Look behind your shoulder. Isn’t that hand waving right at you[14] a sort of insincere performative camouflage? If anywhere at all, the gist is in fact under the skin.
Now relax your gaze for an instant. Listen behind these walls for any neighbouring voices, any breathing[15] or singing (and remember, again, why the word for singing in some languages is a synonym for confessing…). Even with eyes closed, this sound may describe the anatomy of walls and corners for what it really is.
While your ears have taken over, keep listening behind walls and inside the pipes to pick up any evidence, whether recent or old, before it is washed back into the loop. Just one drop of that life line[16] should be enough to nourish the seed for the one remaining beacon.
As if taking all this in and piecing it all this together were not enough, keep attending to the rhythmic punctuation of blurry luminous discs[17], not to mention the echo of the many voices rushing to interpret them.
All this factored in, what stands behind these walls is not a simple exercise in suspension of disbelief. In reality, each one of these three doors is just a threshold into the other.
