The Empire of My Soul

Dear Traveler,

I didn’t need a ship or a train to leave my home. Just an armchair, a pile of maps, and this flickering arcade machine I found in a church cellar. The priest whispered to me: ‘Retrace the steps of the Magi, and you’ll find the empire of your soul.’

He was right. The maze on the screen is no game—it’s a passageway. Each corridor leads not to ghosts or prizes, but to streets of forgotten cities and towers made of starlight. Last night, I crossed a golden gate and entered a city built entirely of constellations. Every building was a memory: some I had lost, others I had yet to live.

I think I’ve finally understood. This is not a journey through space, but through the eternity within myself. The Magi had their desert; I have my neurons, my dreams, my soul.

If this message reaches you, know that I am still walking—not on Earth, but in the 4th Dimension.

Wish you were here,
The Armchair Traveler

 

Dit is een verhaal ontstaan uit een stiftgedicht in de reeks Messages from the 4th Dimension, waarin de blackout poetry werd gemaakt op basis van Engelstalige correspondentie, tijdschriften, brochures en andere documenten uit de nalatenschap van Philip Coppens, schrijver en onderzoeker van het paranormale en van alternatieve geschiedenis (1971-2012). Lees hier meer over in mijn boek Een magisch-realist in Mysterieus België, het Boek der Synchroniciteiten.

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