GREY by Jax Tan
The psychologist pries the mind. The mind reacts, questions, justifies, rationalises, categorises and finally storages the thought process as a memory serving through life. As the psychologist deciphers the knot from which juncture deduced, the mind is cleansed. The mind is clear. Yet the soul is weary.
The soul needs to rest.
The doctor observes the body. The body performs as it explains, breathes, beats a rhythm to a new pattern of irregularity. As the doctor prescribes a remedy from which symptoms conjectured, the body is cleansed. The body is clear.
Still, the soul is weary.
The soul finds need for rest.
Where does the soul goes to find rest? Who consults and attends to the suffering soul, to pry or to observe? Who mediates and medicates this weariness, this wilful wasting for recovery? Who nurtures and coos lullabies for sooth, or comforts and strokes its battled wounds, or demands and conditions the soul for adulthood? What is this soul so sonorous it permeates the being through thought and flesh? What is this soul so silent its echoes renounces reason and well-being?
Why do I feel no physical trace of the soul in being yet feel so empty?
My soul is weary.
Shall my soul find rest?
Grey is pronounced in the soul, murkier still as the mind sows and body crows.
About Jax
By day, JAX TAN is a multi-tasking coordinator of all sorts of projects and by night, a space explorer crafting design narratives in space and time, the sort that's always too cramped and too tight for comfort. In what's left of her time she suspends between prayer and daydreams, finding a sort of equilibrium to cultivate new peace and new joy.
