I invite you to listen to my reading of this chapter, over a beautiful mood adding music track. It should hopefully add another dimension to the story for you.
Just click on the link below “Diary Entry #3” to enjoy the mp3 recording while you read along or just look at the pictures, as if I were in your room, reading it to you out-loud (Diary Entry # 3 mp3 recording)
Another night of battling with insomnia and I am lying on top of my bed, as if crucified by my over- active nervous system, that won’t allow me to find sleep. Tonight is the third night I feel this agitation, and also I must admit a growing sense of depression and doubt. I think perhaps I am wrong about some things I felt I knew only a week ago. I can not enter into the other world. It is as if I am locked out, and I am not sure who or what has slammed that door, but closed it remains to me night after night. I also am not sure I am right about not including Ismara in this now. If the world does exist, each day I don’t see it, makes it a hazy reality, at best a pale memory, that loses credibility even with me, so how can I drag my poor sister who I love and would protect even to die for her,into something I don’t have any idea about? I sometimes think I am going mad, and if that is the case, I must at all costs, hide it from her too. I am judge, jury, defendant and prosecutor and my nightly courtroom dramas rob me of my sleep and any chance at all to be invited back into the portal that is a light green wall that shifts and pulsates between our world and theirs.
Finally after tossing and turning, I fall into a deep sleep. When I begin to be aware I am dreaming, I am still not really sure I am in “that dream” the one that is a life and a real world, not a fantasy of my own mind’s making. I feel skeptical at first, as nothing is exactly as it was before. I even try closing my eyes, and taking a few deep breaths, so that I may open them and find I have now safely crossed over, but when I open them, I am still where I was, a place of bright yellow and green rods of color that are foreign to me and give me no idea where I am. Is this the Dream that is a Life? It feels more like my own subconscious inventing a regular dream, and a deep feeling of disappointment begins to take me over. Another night it seems, without my Intimate to guide and coax and teach and love me.
This way back seems so different at first, that I stay poised where I am listening, feeling, observing how the images I see are behaving. Do they fade into others? No, they remain solid. Do they change if I stare at one spot too long? No, they do not. My heart begins to quicken with the thought that I am in his world, and that yes, if I stay calm and lucid I will see him. I will be with him tonight. I try to see through the barrier that is much more dense, and makes me think I am in some other part of this world, a part I have never yet visited. I am in my pajamas still, I look down , hoping to see I am dressed in an evening gown, but no, I am dressed for bed, in a world that might still be this one, what we call the real world, or maybe the real world is moving away quickly as I approach what could be the cross over point. I try again. I close my eyes and I extend my arms through the thick foliage of stems and tubes, half organic and half something else.This world, and what holds me in awe about it, is that it has different rules that govern it. The basic building blocks could not survive in our world. He tried to show me a little tiny glimpse into how different, and I crumbled like a mouse terrified, quaking and unable to look more. I close my eyes, and wait counting the beats of my heart, before I dare to open them again. When I do, I am on the move, like a low prowling cat, or a vehicle that effortlessly is pushing through the twisted forest of this land, and I feel a cool gelatine feeling of a sphere in my hand, and I dare not even look at it, I know now…I am in. I am in his world, and I am being taken to him, or this I hope.
I crouch below rows of strange green glass beetles, fibrous tubes of organic textures that give off a pungent perfume. I am sailing below the impasse, and I am yet to be in the clothes that are always chosen for me. I am running effortlessly, as if I weigh nothing, my feet barley touching the ground. My running suit is my pajamas and the little ball, which I am not sure even has the power of language, pulls me along as it rests on top of my open palm. It pulls me though places that my eyes say can not be traversed, yet we never lose speed, or have to halt. Then all of a sudden we do. We come to a complete stop.
“Will you take me to see my Intimate?” I hold the globe close to my face, and I speak to it as if I were speaking to a child who did not speak my language, enunciating carefully each word, taking my time. Perhaps this ball does not know the name of the one who has chosen me as his, who has me call him “my Intimate” Perhaps this term is for me alone, and not generally used or known about all over this world. Before I can ask again, it replies
” Mine, I am your Intimate. Do you now not recognize me? Has this little bit of time passed erased me from your mind?
I am shocked, and at the same time, elated so giddily I can’t help smiling and I let out a small laugh,and press him to my lips, kissing him several times, rubbing him against my cheek, fitting him into the curve of my throat, where I feel him grow warmer.
“Forgive me I did not recognize you. I have waited and waited to see you, lost nights of sleep, robbing myself of the chance to crossover and call your name. Oh my Intimate, I have missed you so much, I was doubting my own sanity.
“Dress yourself for me and cross over. I will be waiting.” He disappears from my hand and a cold shiver runs through me, my knees almost buckling. “How can this be?” I think to myself, “He has crossed over to my side. He had never seen me in my pajamas, I am always dressed, before I am placed in his presence. Does he now have that power? If he crosses over into my normal dreams, could he not cross into my waking life? Would I welcome this crossing, or would I be filled with fear? Ismara? What about Ismara? Am I putting her in danger if I continue this.?” I am on a threshold, as I look down and see somehow I have gotten myself dressed, in the same elegant style always chosen for me, an evening gown of the palest green, matching shoes, some jewelry, and I am climbing the wall, hanging off of it like a fly, unsure what is the best thing to do. I see I have yet to pass to the other-side, and if I hesitate too much I might find myself suddenly there, in the same way I see I have become dressed in only a blink. My mind is made up by him, by what he says to me,
“Let yourself fall backwards through the barrier. Close your eyes. I will catch you.”
I don’t hesitate but do a swan-dive and find myself on the other side, falling on my back, head downwards, floating to the ground.
“Hold out your hands and catch me,” he says.
I do, and as soon as they are outstretched, he lands gently on them, like a warm liquid ball come to bathe my palms in the most sensual heat. It can not be described, only felt, and I am filled with the feeling of belonging to him and to his world. I am ashamed now I thought these negative thoughts and fears. If he wants to cross over into my real life, I will help him. I could never refuse him that. We fall past webbed nets, wall panels of reeds and frames, then descend below the level of the applauding hands, that remain clenched, not giving any ovations or synchronized applause. Oh how I love this landscape, this other place that now feels a bit like a homecoming, each time I pass through the parallel frontier. I look up into him and I see my own face reflected, and I smile and I feel him smile. How can I do this? There is no way to explain, and I imagine my sister thinking I am totally mad, making some sort of remark like, “Oh I saw this really nice looking beach-ball you might like to go out with” I am in love with a globe. Who could understand that?
As I gently land, he whirls inside his sphere and I reach out to hold him tighter. The only way I could explain it to Ismara or to anyone, would be to say, that when one sees an image far away, coming closer, and it looks tiny like a small doll coming your way, if you know because everything tells you, this is not a little stranger, but your lover, who when he arrives will be his own size, you do not hesitate to believe he is inside that tiny figure moving in your direction. It does not look like him, but your heart begins to flutter for what you know is inside. Our perceptions are so relative. There is a soul inside, that lives in a body which is its casing, like my Intimate lives inside spheres but yet is so much more than his housing suggests. I am reminded of how foolish I have been in the past, to notice more the case then the music played by the instrument when it is freed. When the instrument has been taken out of the case, this is the part that thrills me, because I know the notes that will be played, can bring me tears of ecstasy moving me beyond myself. The case is just that, a case, a closet, a shell, a body that holds the instrument, that when it is being true to its nature plays the most haunting and beautiful songs. I love the songs, I don’t love the case. I feel surging in me the greatest desire for him to know I know how very special our love is.
“I know.” He says in my thoughts, “I know how unique and impossible we are.”
He settles against my throat, and feels once again cool, “Mine, I will taste a little more of you. Please do not resist. While this moment lives, I take what is mine. I take you”
“Mine I have missed you” He coos and the globe, vibrates, and hums, I almost hear a chorus of voices inside, singing. I reach out to touch him, to show him I too have missed him, but he pulls my arms back again and says gently, “Don’t. Do nothing. Leave your arms outstretched, you are mine and I will know you more and more. This is my pleasure. Do not resist, or it could feel very frightening to you.
“My Intimate I am afraid.”
“No, there is no reason to be. Does not your heart tell you this is love? Are you afraid of love? If you love me, give yourself to me, let me know you, all of you, every memory, every fear, every lie, every false step, not to judge you, but to love you more. Do you think I will love you less?
“Yes” I say, “I think you will love me less.”
“Well this night will let us know who is right. I am going to enter you. Be empty for me, and welcome me to come inside”
“I will heal you of that fear”
At the moment he says these words, I feel an incredible state begin to come over me, at the same time I am being emptied of my fears, my doubts, my reactions, my weakness, and my anxieties, at the very same time, all of this is leaving, like little puffs of air, that blow out of my mouth, through my barely parted lips. I now feel him filling me up with his presence, that opens, doors of past memories, so many memories, and my body trembles with the weight of him inside of me, yet the final feeling is of ecstatic peacefulness. I let my body go limp, not one muscle tenses, and I feel him opening doors, as he walks through me. I know he sees everything, and I too begin to see scenes, I don’t even remember, yet I know they are from my life.
He whispers from inside of me, his voice and mine one,”I love this life and all the mysteries”
“Ohh Ohh Ohh” It’s all I can say, and I don’t think the words have been invented yet in our poor language for the feeling that passes over me, through me, but in one moment I see the very structure of existence, the life and death, the dark and light of it, the birth and death of it, and all is reduced to spheres. From the largest gaseous sun to the smallest atom, all are in the shape of my lover. All of these spheres from the biggest to the smallest carry me, suspend me as he glides from door to door opening me, looking at me, and glowing, I laugh and tears flow. I am in awe, that state of coming up against too much to comprehend yet somehow our poor minds try for a second and then when they give up trying, before they explode, that moment of surrender is what I am feeling, the awe to know I am alive, and I am part of this creation. All those little spheres, whirling and spinning inside of me, but all that comes out of my mouth is, “Oh god…Ohh!” I wish to be held here in this moment, I wish to never ever leave it, or to feel myself without him inside of me.
He glows and I glow and we are one. My body, my mind still reverberating, shaking, and I can’t stop smiling, I can’t stop loving, it shakes my body like a true moment of rapture and I feel how satisfied he is and I feel my own body as if we were two ignited mortals, who have just finished making love in the most profound, passionate way. I know now he has seen me, in a way no one else will ever see me.
“My Intimate, how I love you.” I moan these words like a cello’s prolonged note, and I raise him and bring him back to my lips and raise him again, over and over. You have seen all of me, all of me is yours, all of me is yours.”
“Do I love you less or more now?” His voice reclines in my mind, a soft over-lay on my own.
“You love me more and I too, I too love you beyond what I thought love could do.”
He grows larger and the heat lights up my hands, then my forearms, I feel him strain against the ball, until it gives and swells,
“Now you will come into me. You will my world, and we will truly be together. It is not fair, that I know all of you, without you knowing all of me.”
“But I couldn’t stand it last time, please it was too much for me. I will die inside of you.”
His voice smiles,”Do you think death is so bad? You are not prepared to trade it to come inside of me, live in me? Is this not for you a worthy trade? If you realized death is only a door, situated on the top of a circle, you would walk through it and keep walking around it, and we would be together forever? Will you not trust me and die for me?”
“I wish to be so brave, I want to. I want to.” I begin to cry softly as his words, and my own inadequacies fill me with such turmoil, after having felt such peace.”
“Stop,” he says. “Be empty and fill me. Be empty and see me. Do not fear.”
“Don’t be afraid, submerge in me”
My hands lower him slowly over my face, and a sigh of acceptance pours from my lips. If this is to be my death, what a mystical one indeed. I will drown in him willingly.
He covers my face and I began to see everything through his eyes, and really there is no explanation, perhaps only short cries of realization that leave my lips, little one- word gasps that push out of me involuntarily. This is not death, and I know I will not die, but I also know my mind, will never be the same for seeing what he allows me to see. I look into him, I see everything as if it were a fabric made of many millions of puzzle pieces, stretched out on a grid suspended in space. Each puzzle piece has a texture, a face and there are an infinite number of fabrics. that move in synchronization. My eyes float through one and the other, and every gesture, every facial expression these pieces make, these human and non human forms, they do it the same. If one raises her hand, layer and layers above and below this piece, raise their hands too, some are female, some are male, some are inanimate, maybe a tree branch, maybe a wave, but all move together, all at the same time. I think each stretched fabric puzzle is a world, I think my world is only one in this infinite number and I see smiles, and laughter, and I see confusion and doubt, and building after building, structures all textured differently on the same spot where each piece goes, but the amazing thing I do see, that I hope to be able to put into words, is how all these fabrics are connected and woven together by only one brilliant artist and planner, who has given these textures life, breathed movement, longing, and purpose into every single one of the pieces.
I smile and I smile, “Yes I understand, oh I do now.” Tears wash my eyes, and each tear helps me to see deeper, “Thank you…. thank you.”
I see my face enclosed as if I were a painting or an icon, or an etching on glass and it could be from any time, and I am inertly at peace. Trust radiates from my eyes. Then I go through this image to the layers so many layers beneath me.
I see the past and the future and all these layers hold up their hands. He speaks in my mind,
“Go deep with me mine,” and I do, I go deeper, and deeper, until I no longer know which face is now, my world, my place, but truly not any of this matters. I am inside of him where there is no insecurity, and I feel protected to drop down further and further. This movement inside of him, is timeless and forever bonding, as if we had just committed to our love in a very formal way,a way that nothing can destroy or change, not even us, or anything in either of our worlds.
Then I close my eyes and when I open them, I feel he is leading me back. I am in a room with coiled serpents hanging as wall decorations,and he is lifting my foot, I feel the heat rise up into my body, from this foot. He and the sensation climb slowly up me, up my thigh, and into my lower belly. I do not see the snakes as something to fear, I feel them as something to touch, to admire their sinuous forms, so different from own. Are they not just another texture on some of the puzzle pieces, that make up our floating changing fabric? The heat of my Intimate makes me swoon again, as he crawls slowly up to my chest and there he glows and blands his shape until I reach around him and pull his form into me. Half of him enters my chest, in a feeling of electricity that jolts my heart until I can barely stand it, so pleasurable, beyond my pale description. I shake and my breathing is heavily full of him.
“I am growing stronger in you, every time I feel you I grow stronger,” he says to me.
“I think I could almost pass over to your side, but instead of you, inside of you, not in my sphere, that is not compatible to your world. It will not survive the crossing of the barrier, but I have hope, I’m filled with it now actually, that you could serve as my vessel.” He glows now half inside my chest heating it in waves, “You are my vessel. I am not strong enough yet, but I think I will be soon. Mine, will you serve me in this way? When we have crossed over, I will need another vessel to hold me. You will have to have that ready. Will you do this for me, for us? As we are now, we will not be able to continue. There are forces and laws here, that will begin to try to impede us. I did not want to worry you. If you sense that all in your world would not understand what you do with me, believe me, it is very similar here too. Our Creator created us separate, not to be joined. This is something we both must know. There could and most likely will be hard consequences to our being together, but tonight I feel hope that you will be strong enough to do what will be needed to be done.”
I pull him inside of me, “I will do whatever I must do. I fear losing you more than I fear death.”
“We will part here mine. Wait for me to call you and do not despair if it is not immediately. I will choose the moment, that will be safe for both of us. Hold me inside of you. Press me all the way in. At the barrier, I will leave you, but every minute, know that you live in me as I believe I also live in you. Never doubt the reality of what we have done. This is our reality we create with each second we are together.”
I begin my climb back, filled still with his warmth, and I hold myself back from any doubts or thinking too much about the details of what we are planning on doing, as I know he hears every thought as if it were his own, and it seems he decides to do the same, for now we climb up the wall, both in wordless silence.
“I will leave you here,” he whispers from inside my chest, making my breasts heave with the vibration of his thought, “Close your eyes, and count to three then open them.
Goodbye beautiful mine.”
One… two… three…
I am awake and back in my room. I sit up quickly and reach for my diary, but I am not ready to even write this down. My head reels, and it aches, and there is no way of reconciling the joy and the fear I feel all at the same time. I decide to lie back down, and try to remember only the joy. He filled me with love, with hope and with fear, all in one night with him. I hear Ismara stirring in her room. Oh Ismara, I must protect her at all costs, from anything that could go wrong, because of my decision to break the very laws of Nature and the Universe, to love the one who loves me. May the One who created it all, forgive us if we are wrong, and protect the innocent who are too close to us.
to be continued…
May 29, 2011
Renacer Linc Island Sl
This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License.
*Please see my comment for a complete list of all the posts in order of “The Colored Dreams.” If you enjoyed this one, it is the fifth post of Part Two. There is Part One that Contains six posts and it will all make a lot more sense if read from the beginning of the story.