Todays word is: vicarious [vɪˈkɛərɪəs vaɪ-]
adj
1. obtained or undergone at second hand
through sympathetic participation in another's experiences
2. suffered, undergone, or done as the
substitute for another vicarious
punishment
3. delegated vicarious authority
4. taking the place of another
5. (Medicine / Pathology) Pathol (of
menstrual bleeding) occurring at an abnormal site See endometriosis
[from Latin vicārius substituted,
from vicis interchange; see vice3, vicissitude]
vicariously adv
vicariousness n
Collins English Dictionary – Complete and Unabridged ©
HarperCollins Publishers 1991, 1994, 1998, 2000, 2003
Living Between The Lights
I am a drifter of sorts.
But rather than drift from one town to another, I drift between
minds. I don’t know how I came to be, I only
know that I am. My only memories are those
of the minds that I drift to, from, in and out of. I have no shape, no mass, I exist as an
invisible and intangible sponge that absorbs all knowledge it comes in contact
with but never grows full. The minds
that I inhabit have no knowledge of my existence; they cannot communicate with
me just as I cannot communicate with them.
I do not take from or add to their thoughts; for the time that I am with
a mind I simply make a copy of its entire history and paste it into
myself. Myself. I don’t know if that word is accurate, all
that I am belongs to somebody else, I am a library of minds or maybe I am the
librarian. Am I an invisible ghost
librarian that lives vicariously through thoughts and experiences of
others? That doesn’t seem right either. I’m not a ghost; ghosts can be seen and heard. I see and hear, but I am not seen and
heard. I feel and hurt, but only if the
body belonging to the mind I inhabit feels and hurts, even then, I can choose
to withdraw to save myself the misery that is emotions.
I have drifted to and through a hundred thousand minds over thousands
of years; sometimes staying for a long period if I find a mind to be
exceptional, and sometimes only staying for an instant if I find myself inside
a monster, or what the other minds I have inhabited would consider a monster.
There are not others like me. When I exit a mind I am alone, I exist in the
‘in-between’, in darkness and silence, save the points of light which represent
my possible destinations, then I choose.
There is no method, all the points of light look the same, I simply
choose and there I am, absorbing new memories and experiencing a new life,
adding to ‘us’.
I am alone again, drifting.
Today I am going to travel ‘in-between’.
I am going to drift to a distant mind, one of the bright points in the distance. It takes a while, or maybe no time at all,
the ‘in-between’ doesn’t follow rules such as time.
An anomaly.
A flickering light.
No, not flickering, pulsing, beating like a heart made of light.
I drift closer… then
I drift in.
A new mind, not unlike other minds I’ve drifted too, but
with one anomaly, this mind is occupied.
“Hello.” says a voice
My first instinct is to ask ‘Who are you?’, but I stop
myself then I say “Who am I?”
The voice responds after a pause, “You are…not alone.”
