Trapping

Houdini gets too much credit for being history’s greatest escape artist. Handcuffs and chains acquaint the trappings of reality, I dare him to enter my mind and try to escape the illusions, blurring life like ghosts in the imagination. Some of it was real <my immediate surroundings, maybe> but you can’t quite remember and the ropes tighten with every nameless situationship or a dream of a giant alligator in a small room. The man would free float, bonded in a void of oversexed encounters, Walter Mitty mindfucks and daydream nightdream deaddream escapades. Time is the end boss escape room villain, and we are talking over each other in pursuit of clues like alchemical glue. You can never age if you stop looking at clocks proving that ignorance is the fountain of youth.
Houdini trapped himself inside the trap for regular rebirthing to restart time. If freedom only comes from defeating underwater obstacles, I think I’ll pass, anxiety is already living with chains across my chest in constant search of the right breath.