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Spectres from the future imbue themselves into the past and present. Retro futures inform me of my present. I look to the horizon and I experience flashbacks.

I describe my desires as haunted; they’re like ghosts that follow me everywhere I go. Some people say desire stems from lack or privation and that these ghosts fill in the lacuna that desire originates from. It’s a ghost called hunger, a spectre called yearning, and a revenant called invidia.

The evil eye that covets its object of desire, the eye that wields its black magic against those that obstructs its will. Desire conjures up a darkness within me and within the shadows, these ghosts roam and fill the space with their wails. Ghosts are not the past haunting the present but a future that was obstructed from coming into being.

What lies beneath isn’t what was but rather what was that could’ve been.

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I remember as a child when my parents used to drive from Las Vegas to California or vice versa. We often drove through the desert at night which had an eerie but numinous feeling to it.

With only the stars and moon illuminating the nocturnal dome, it felt like you can drive forever. But I’ve always wanted to go off-road into the unknown and wild heart of darkness of the desert.

With never ending flatland in all directions, you get to experience infinity in all its horrific beauty. There’s no horizon or end in sight, but sand and inky blackness.

If the animals don’t get to you first and as night turns into day, the oppressive sun bears its onerous rays on you. You may be able to see, but the only thing in sight is just more of the same flatland rolling into eternity.

Here, infinity is the graveyard of sand and dirt. It patiently and slowly stitches you back into it’s tapestry.