Screen Black Playback

Fix your eyes, you say, pah, no difficulty there, screen not black yet, no, the music plays, it is about that time. Red, green, blue, all in a row, all in rows and columns, x's and y's, the z behind our heads, yet it is always from A to B, on a black grid on black. Gray bodies form circles, from afar they are points, A is B, B is C, A is C. There cannot be much to do here. Bah, the arrogance, the gray bodies spin and are still, two-dimensional looking above, three-dimensional folding in, four-dimensional a dream. Just a bad dream, a labyrinth, voices brim the space, pierced by the line, threaded through the playback, in the blank room, red light, moving, but stationary, where are we? The dream is blue, the dream is red, it is all different, the angles are infinite, it is all the same, three-dimensional, except for that one. Reverse, no it cannot be done, the playback is not real, and the firmament is blue, folding in, it is red. Peer through and fix your eyes, you say, no difficulty, no difficulty at all, unless it is black. The grey bodies wink, remnants to the playback, the flickering playback. Here comes the music, as if this is meant to be, no, it is all in the projector, that is me, no, it is in the projector, that is you. Blink, we are gone, reverse and it grinds, gone but here, gray bodies in a space within a space within an infinite space on the black line, the z behind the eye, fix your eyes, no it is useless. Feel and you spin, you sink, you drift in black on black, the black screen. Changing and unchanging, red, green, and blue, as the cipher swims, there in the nothing, a churning nothing, humming, in delirium.

Inspired by Samuel Beckett's "Imagination Dead Imagine"