*spark>>

http://www.spark-online.com

Fairyland: A Short Story

By Rita Lauria

"I longed for you," he murmured through the form of a non-Euclidean space.

The words from him, the susurration of their touch, imploded her consciousness, making any conceptual identification of an algebraic correlation with geometrical locus impossible. Matter as pure extension had no reality in this conversation. This was a different story, a different feel, a different space. In this space reality was virtual and did not demand an interchange of ideas dovetailed to a coordinate geometry. As such, in the wisp of a breath, he had as well discontinuously dislocated any possibility of belief in absolute time.

This was a place where there was no place; a time where there was no time.

Fairyland.

Yes, she was comfortable there, floating on the semantic saturation of his words. The information, so thickly condensed, wrapped her in a blanket of safety as the compression of time from the thrust of its internal organization metaphysically dissolved any boundaries of distinction. An interplay of a priori with synthetic awareness delicately fabricating a change of state, a change a nature, a change of consciousness.

It happened in the boundary zones, at the interface between systems, transcending the limitations of materiality while in full cooperation and glorification of the totality of life's expression. This was virtual reality, where form, space, time, matter, and change all cohered 'as if' to 'be.'

Yes, a both/and proposition. Ontologically known through the epistemology of love.

"I longed for you," he said.

"And I long for you, my love," she replied.

She. Her form at last going beyond structure, expressing as a higher stage of being that exists not in the possession of faculties, but in the exercise of them.

Yes. Beyond kinesis, beyond the progress of potentiality to actuality, he helped, allowing an unimpeded flow of her activity. Energeia, possible only after actuality has been acquired.

Thus, she was compelled to reflect. She reflected upon a conception of God as unmoved, unchanging pure form, the Zen void space. No communication, no light, pure stillness. Still calm.

"No," she thought. This is not accurate. Her thinking was different. Inverting the conceptual structure, she recognized the spiritual reality. It is not static. It is Still Activity. As pure actuality, exempt from kinesis, God is eternally active. And she reflected upon the philosopher's creed according to Aristotle, "The activity of mind is life." God's essential quality is life.

"Yes, I long for you too," she offered.

It was a splendid touch of thought: hi-touch. She reveled, basking.

"Nous," she thought. (“We” in French.)

But her thoughts drifted to a more distant etymology where they landed in the philosophical system of the ancient Aristotle. Although these were words too old for him to read, she wanted him to know.

Nous is life in its highest manifestation.

Unattenuated nous. Pure mind, undistinguished by process. Eternally knowing the whole realm of being. Active Stillness.

Sudden flash of the whole of truth. Active Stillness. Still Activity.

Nous: life in its highest manifestation. The Metaphysics of Virtual Reality.

We/Life/One.

And to her life was love.

"I love you," she said.