Finalist Energheia Ireland Prize 2024

Wndsdy:
I msck t dth ft hs, im hppyt behre, img ldtht i am alive nd iwshi cld do s tmrw. Vertigo
Jhn is lvng frt mrw tdy. Hs hpy, we r hpy, wr ll hpy fr hm as h cntns hsslf. Clarity
Exuma
Anticlimax
Two
My name is Richard and I am- No
The earth- No, begin
It is peaceful here, I can sit and listen to the water running up the sand and the stone,
beating against the land, flowing around in the dark; and it is dark here, there are no lights
on anywhere and the slate that stretches across the top of the world doesn’t produce any
natural light. So it is black here except for the grey glow that fills the air every moment like a
mist of light and which illuminates the world. In the dark, sounds seem magnified, I suppose
because there is nothing to see. So the slight waves and ripples that cover the lake, the
Blackwater, as it’s called, are loud as the water reacts with itself.
I think that I’m here because I am looking for answers. It has been said that in
everyone’s life they begin to question the world. It happened recently, at first slowly, and far
away in the back of my head, but now it happens daily and ceaselessly, and my mind is
relentlessly trying to make sense of everything. Today, earlier – when Jacques died – was
when everything permanently lost the sense it had previously had.
“Richard Aladan” came a voice.
“Ay” Ay said back, then walked forward, then heard from behind:
“Tennis Alderman”, as someone continued the roll call for the day’s work.
You can almost ingest this air, it being turned to smoke with lead and the men
transfigured almost to statue as they breathe. I don’t mind it, I find it calms me, and that I no
longer think when part of it, and while it is in and around me. It is how it is for everyone when
they come to these tunnels to mine rock to build roads and walls and wire once purified.
Blackness engulfs everyone when they come here, even physically, bodies reflect no light
and cannot be seen except for the insects that dully shine on them, so many and so small
that everyone is like a sort of constellation, and can be seen for metres because of the glow
that surrounds them and contrasts with the darkness. When I see the stars I think of the
tunnels.
Tsdy agn:
Cn slt dsgs lght s atmn cn, whr d lvs g whn thy d
Brick-A-Brack
Mortar
Ability
Inside the tunnels I find I can’t think, my mind is thick and heavy as the dust flows
through me, and I like it like that. But that day there were no tunnels, as we were to watch
the death of someone whom we had known. A large number of people watched, he had
asked for a firing squad, which was uncommon and interesting. They aimed for his body, as
he had requested, so after the reportedly antique guns were raised and emptied and
lowered, his face was as calm as ever, though his insides lay all splayed over the floor, dark
blood running down, swirling and turning with the dust on the ground, coalescing. I only
looked for two minutes, I wasn’t that interested.
Jacques has gone, he is no longer with me, he is somewhere else entirely. I am
happy for him! But I’m not happy for myself, is that selfish? Maybe, but given the option I
would not make him stay, so maybe not.
Leaping into the black water that night, and feeling my head clear and the cuts I
sustained from hammering rock in the caves heal and my lungs mend, I stayed down, I
cannot count how long exactly, but I stayed for longer than I should have. And why not! It’s
so calm, so quiet, it is black, it is black as only it can be. It gives a feeling of not existing at
all, and being nothing. When my head resurfaces and I breathe air again someone is sternly
telling me to get out, I swim to the ladder, but not as quickly as I could.
Mndy:
Tm s a crcl ndyr th spks. Wr t ht hng st ht mk rsl vs mv bn
Departure
Analog
Inferno
Today is Today is Today is Today
Again, there was a death today, I did not bother going. Instead I sat by the
Blackwater, it’s different in the day, artificial light fills the place. In the dark the lake merges
with everything and you can barely make out the difference between it and anything else, in
the light it sticks out without colour, and contrasts with the air and the ground and the distant
horizon. It also seems to absorb light, like no matter how bright something is it will be
reflected back as black. I find it is a good place to think. About things that don’t make sense
and things that you don’t understand.
So I stared at it and decided. I Walked down to the edge of the water and stuck a
hand inside – it was freezing, it is the kind of cold that makes you feel as if you’re not there at
all, like your arm extends on and fades out. I couldn’t see my hand either, the water was too
black. I took it out and walked back to tell someone.
They told me to do it on Saturday, two days away, so people could watch and so
people could hear. In the meantime I went back to the tunnels at midday. The air was thick
there, and my arms were heavy and the rock survived hammer blasts. The dust didn’t slow
my thought like it usually did, it did nothing. There were very few people around, and those
that were were far away, alone. Two hours later, I left, and I couldn’t concentrate or sleep
that night. Images came to my mind, strange images of people in suits and light creeping
through cracks in the rock. Saturday was too late.
So I left, I walked past the entrance to the tunnels. There is a cliff there, a tall one
way above the Blackwater and under the rocks that make up the sky. I arrived and stared
down at the water. People on the shore of the lake below stared back up. I could not see
their faces but I have no doubt they were uninterested, people have done this before, and
people will do it again. I stepped off the cliff and the ground began to accelerate. The water
moved to meet me and I collided with a crack that tore the silence for a moment. In the lake;
I was broken, my bones and body, but the Blackwater seeped into me, my blood flowed in
the lake and the lake flowed in my arteries and veins. Just a part of something larger. It was
cold beyond belief, I could not move, and it was black and just as silent. I felt as though my
body had gone, as though I had vanished or evaporated, it felt like I had never existed at all.
Then my oxygen just ran out.
Sndy:
Wll nw i am hre in a nw wrld wth nw peopl,
Attribution
Attrition
Overuse
I don’t remember waking up, the furthest back I can remember is just walking out of a
forest that I can’t seem to find anymore. The others don’t care that I am here, just like the
others didn’t care I was there, and just like I didn’t care, and won’t. Everyone is everywhere
here, so no one noticed I came. I doubt anyone noticed I left, I barely did, though I hope my
leap into the water gave them something to think about and pay attention to. But still, day to
day, I go on, I go to the tunnels and to the lake though they’re slightly different here. I still go
to see deaths, and people die every one or two days, they ask for it, but I don’t think I will
ask again, not for a while. It does me no good, and it is too much pain to justify. I just stay in
the tunnels and leave to the lake, then retreat every night to heaven to sleep. In sleep,
everything is so black and so empty; and the day is so full of noise and unending thought, it
can be nice to escape it, occasionally I hope I never wake up, but, endlessly, I open my
eyes to see the world again, day after day.
I find myself wishing for things I don’t understand, vague ideas lurk in unclear parts of
my mind. There are feelings that I cannot express, and desires that I cannot describe. I find
myself having hazy thoughts about cycles that loop around forever and long nights and
incompleteness. There is something building inside of me that is unable to get out, that I am
unable to comprehend, and which is constantly growing and constantly being numbed by my
inability to do anything about it. There are places I wish I could go, and there are things that I
wish I could experience. I came here because I was looking for answers. I came here
because I had forgotten what I must have told myself before. I came here to think, but just let
my mind go numb. It’s serene here, but in a world without reason, what good is thought.
There is no rest here, but the daily escape to the ending containment of sleep. But even then
you wake up every time.