For a long time, after many experiences, I’ve imagined a virus as a portal to previous viral experiences. It is as if a virus creates a unique mind space only accessible during the time it has infected my body and, consequently, altered my mind. Each new experience feels very similar to the previous incarnations I’ve had. So, I see it as a chance to travel back, through time, through the current viral channel, to all those previous times I’ve been infected. In effect, I revisit myself through this rarefied cluster of similar mental spaces. The virus, an anchor, dropped each time I’ve been inhabited. The current viral infection, the portal back to them all.
Once I’ve resigned to the fact I have been infected by a virus, I creatively utilise the virtual mind spaces the virus helps me inhabit. Over the years I have heard, on the urban myth channels, that viruses literally come from outer space. They are ever present in the space dust that perpetually bombards our planet. So, with this in mind, I like to imagine that the thoughts I have are initiated by these alien space viruses .
Recently my nose turned into a dripping tap, and the familiar sensations of the viral cloak embraced my thoughts. (Cue Doctor Who theme tune) As it approached 8 PM I realised my mental faculties were reduced to a slugworth, and I resigned myself to bed, to journey through the new portal.
The main memory, a key anchor to my journey (most probably because it’s when I began to formulate this theory) is lodged in a shared house in Liverpool. I’m lying in my bed with the mental distortions caused by the viral intruder. As I write this I can fully visualise the room, I can look around it and I can, virtually, explore the environment. I call this process Reality Virtual (RV)
The most interesting thing is that I can explore days and weeks around the period of viral infection once I have reached that space. I can visualise getting back to work at Liverpool polytechnic (now John Moores University) and even go to the lecture I had on art history. Most of my senses are active during these journeys, I can smell things, feel the cold weather, hear the cars (My bedroom was directly in front of a set of traffic lights on a busy Liverpool road) and taste the spinach pasties from the local Greek baker just round the corner from the sculpture department.
As I journey to this place in Liverpool, other anchors pull me towards other times and places when I have been infected by the same, or similar, virus. I think that is the important thing here. The viral infection has to be flu based for the anchors to link together like a pustulant green daisy chain.
Anyway, for the last 36 hours, I have spent my time on a trip to these places, visiting my past through the viral portal. Fortunately, I have learnt how to remove a virus quickly; 1000 mg of vitamin C every hour until it goes. So, here I sit, The residue of the virus apparent only in my hoarse voice. The tentacles, that lead away from this years portal, now receding.
At last, I am free of its hold, and so back to work.