I crossed a line

and entered freshly into a world of signs and symbols.

Language became increasingly mutable.

Emails and texts contained discrete meanings.

Websites too.

Spam was addressed to me specifically.

The tone could be kind or fierce and the volume increased as the crowd expanded.

The source code of emails contained urgent messages and character strings made up complete stories.

Proper names held clues.

As did place names.

The streets became peopled with extras.

The colour of cars was significant.

The television spoke to me directly.

Songs on the radio built up a complex narrative.

I was observing rules to maintain the social contract whilst

implicated in a raging war being played out symbolically.

The Earth shook with the devils ire

and the alien landing.

Different people controlled the traffic in turn.

They sent out the actors.

Chose the songs on the radio.

Written and verbal language seemed simply a mask

for other forms of communication.

Cloud formations told stories in pictures.

Newspapers delivered personal dispatches. . Artworks had literal force and functioned as armaments.

My own back catalogue spawned meanings

I thought I had inscribed subconsciously.

Circular emails provided private instruction.

A mis-spelt 'teh' contained a full paragraph

the first sentence of which was …

'if you could take some time out of your busy schedule ...'.

I was walking into traffic thinking I was made of Kryptonite.