I Have Tried To Conjure in Braille and It Worked

The year 2020 was already an allegory, and anything by any means linked to it felt eons old before it even ended. When I was breaking down the unnerving symbolism, this happened to be the first image I came up with: a notorious creature has been growing aware of its mirror image too early, or too fast, or both.

Followed by this: While the industry of longing inwardly dominates the cities, metropoles seem to be proud to comply. A type of pride that you sense when facing something that is selfish, yet charming. This yearning scenery seems as invasive as it could get – to the point of necromancy *Sorcery*Collabing*Dead*.

Another one pops out: Sleight of hand is being taught at schools before anything else. Even before the student oath and all that. Curriculum titles sound like a fictional country’s second-degree humor. And cafeteria menus certainly imply some cultural references that the newcomers are too afraid to ask about.

The image slides: Individuals are now given safewords during their regular life events. The Necromancer reigns and rages. The only roleplay left for them is roleplaying, and this pastime is adorable only for a while.

The next vision is sort of misty: Mass disinfection activities keep accompanying mass idolatry. Certain cleaning products are thought to have pure psyches living inside them, regardless of their being guilt-free or not. And the supreme language that constantly aimed to be invented is even guiltier than its manufacturers. The voices seek a fabulous phrasing over and over again. It’s believed these can undo particular things.

Somebody says, because repetition never faileth. The occasional typos and logical errors found amid these human traces are the attempts of sending an S.O.S message to the reader, doubtlessly made by the homesick.

What comes after is called counternostalgia. A haphazard wording to begin. It’s certainly lacking grammar. A new approach to speaking in tongues. It is where one is able to hear the speaking-tone tongue at last.

A simple counternostalgia spell

These instructions will most probably be found in the archives of this transit city, the city that is now a real-life experiment.

1. Find an intersection on Google Maps. Arrange a minimal set-up of that intersection at your place or another nearby space (with small rocks, domino pieces, sugar cubes, etc.). Try to picture yourself there; standing, pacing, sitting, or lying.
2. Light three birthday candles at the center of your intersection to symbolize and summon three natural forces of life: Freedom of thought, freedom of speech, and freedom in general.
3. Pick three random words from the dictionary.
   

Then take a moment to think and repeat them in different combinations.
This is how you will begin: »Speak through me.«
As soon as you hear the speaking tone tongue, you will recognize it. It sounds familiar to temporal beings.

LABEL PLANET OBSCURE. PLANET LABEL OBSCURE.  OBSCURE PLANET LABEL. OBSCURE PLANET PLANET.
OBSCURE LABEL PLANET. LABEL LABEL PLANET.  LABEL PLANET LABEL. PLANET PLANET PLANET
PLANET OBSCURE LABEL.  PLANET LABEL LABEL. LABEL LABEL LABEL. PLANET PLANET OBSCURE.
OBSCURE PLANET OBSCURE. PLANET OBSCURE OBSCURE. OBSCURE OBSCURE PLANET.  PLANET OBSCURE PLANET.
LABEL OBSCURE PLANET.
LABEL OBSURE PLANET.
OBSCURE OBSCURE OBSCURE.

4. To keep your tongue away from espionage, write the combinations down in an unfamiliar writing system. Keep reciting as you transfer them to the paper in your own handwriting.

 

5. To reverse and correct the arrow of time, fold the paper backward three, five, or seven times. Keep it close to your ears until you hear the speaking-tone tongue once again. During the day, keep it on you; at night hide it under your pillow. Once nostalgia dissipates, you will have two options: A) Burn it at the intersection you’ve chosen on Google Maps. Scatter the ashes. B) If you are not allowed to go out, eat it. Let your system take care of it.

6. Read no more. Do not read anything, in order to distance yourself from the Necromancer’s infamous discourse. If it still haunts you, repeat the ritual.

 

Kuzey Topuz is a writer based in Istanbul, and fellow of the »Be Mobile – Create Together!« program, in which Akademie Schloss Solitude participates. In her creative process she uses the tools of different genres and paradigms to generate a multilayered experience. She seeks the pieces – dime novels, memoirs, testimonies, found photographs, pseudoscientific texts, graffities, urban myths, etc. By experimenting on the innate nature of things and the occasional errors they show, she aims to catch momentary nuances to reveal their essence, then reconnect them within another piece of narrative that functions as the absolute constant.