Part Two~The Colored Dreams~Dream Diary Entry #5 The Intimate

I invite you to listen to my reading of this chapter, over a beautiful mood weaving music track. It should hopefully add another dimension to the story for you.
Just click on the link below “Diary Entry #5 The Intimate″ 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 #5 The Intimate

I am the Intimate

I am the Intimate. I float inside the mind of the one given to me. This is not my perfect abode, but only a temporary escape. I will write these words for her, using her own hand, in the book she has kept of her encounters in my world. What was my world…is no longer mine. I hover inside of her, and am so careful to not disturb anything that is her life process. I sometimes whisper so softly “mine I am here” and I feel she feels my love…perhaps only that. If I show myself to her too quickly, madness could be her future and the rest of her life. I wish so much more for her. I wish us to be together in her world. I write to her, that she may begin to remember what has been erased from her mind. Nothing can be totally erased, when there is love. I am living proof of this.

I have formed myself in a sphere

I have formed myself in a sphere, and I hide deep in a part of her mind, she never visits, perhaps only in dreams. I am shapeless and yet I exist and I feel closed up, almost restrained, and not at ease inside of her. If she could know, all that I know, and accept me like this, I would stay. Others of my kind have. They have crossed over and they have merged inside this species. Some have found great  rewards and some have driven their hosts mad, even to their deaths. Yes I do know the laws, and I know what I have done, but the fact I survived the purging of her and my memories of her, gives me hope I am supposed to find a way for us. Is that not in itself a sign? I write in her diary, using her hand, she is not even conscious now that she is awake, but feels she nodded off in a nap. I am her nap and her guide. I am her Intimate and she is mine. Our fates our sealed now as one.

Her door is still locked for me

Her door is still locked for me and until she remembers who I am and who she was with me, I can not even attempt to break it down. Her consciousness is a wall that can not be penetrated. I can use her body, I can bend it to my will, but until she calls me out by name and recognizes I am here, I must bide my time, carefully, and avoid at all costs the upsetting of her mental state, because my existence depends on hers. I love this mind, and I love even more the soul that floats over it, but I am respectful, and I am patient. I feel when she reads these words, it will start to come back to her, the purging and the moments of ecstasy we had shared before. This hope is what also keeps me from going mad.

Minutes after the purge, I lost all sense of self

 Minutes after the purge, I lost all sense of myself. Time, who I was, where I was, even my senses that are always so acute, were as if they had been shut off. Confusion.. disintegration, the void fear that haunts us all. How did I get inside her? I am not sure, but I heard her call me from that void and I leaped into her desperate thoughts, her last seconds of lucidity, then all went formless in my mind.

I streaked and extended and waited for my annihilation along with hers

I streaked and extended and waited for my annihilation along with hers. They were torturing her now, with her future, perhaps the cruelest of tortures, yet I felt she would not remember any of it, as she would not remember me. If I write all of this down now, it will cause her more harm than good. Can we escape what the future shows us? Perhaps it is possible, and one premonition is only one of millions of variations. Nothing is written in stone, but instead is written on clouds that shift and change before our sight. I am here for love and no other reason, my desire to remain with her,has brought me into her, into her world. I know I am not strong enough yet, to stay inside much longer. I need my own container, or I too will go mad and if I do, so will she. I love her too much for this to happen. If need be, I will end my existence, by leaving her and going into nothing, into no other vessel. This will be death, like being sucked into a vacuum, it will be swift but terrifying.

Hours and days inside of her with no contact is my torture

Hours and days inside of her with no contact is my torture. If my own kind were unable to punish me successfully as they had planned, I have done it now to myself, here in this way, locked out of her love, locked out of her deepest chambers, only I had ever walked inside, only I had ever opened her doors. When she surrendered to me completely, all the doors one after another, threw off their locks and opened to me as I floated by, each one begging me to enter. Ahh sublime gift that no one will ever erase from my memory. I stop in my nostalgia and I write directly to her, with all the passion I feel that swirls and hums me to the brink of rapture,
“Karima read these words. They are the words of your Intimate. I will remember for us, for both of us, until you call out my name. I am here. I am here.”
This was our marriage, our forever bond, our ring that encircled us both. I hold this image in my mind, I picture her and me floating in a crystal world, not mine and not hers, but we are together. I see this as our future, a good one, that waits for us at the end of a very long corridor.

“My beautiful mine, Press me to your face”

My beautiful mine, Press me to your face. Remember me. Remember me.”

I give her my image, that I hold of us.

I give her my image that I hold of us. I give it to her now in a dream.

 I look at her physical form and mold myself to her shapes

  I look at her physical form and mold myself to her shapes. I become the grid of her, and I spread out into her senses. I see both the aesthetically unpleasing, and I see the beauty in every layer. All of this is still not what I love. I love her formless thoughts, so much like myself in their invisibility. They surround me and whisper and touch me in a way her hands her lips, her deepest passionate places will never touch me. Our play and our great drama unfolds between the layers and the worlds. It is in a place no one can describe accurately, yet we know when we have arrived, as we are swept into each other and we are joined in a way that changes both our structures. She loses solidity, I gain it and we throb as one thought and one feeling. Ahhh I moan into her dreams, “I need you mine. I need you. I need you to remember me”

She awakes and I retreat.

She awakes and I retreat. Most of me hides while a tiny part of me circles her beautiful face, putting a glow over her skin, warming her face, trying to bring her the peaceful state of having woken from a nap. I look at her and I wish I could have my own vessel now to pull her into it, surround her and take her again, and again, into my thoughts and visions, possess her until she breathes inside of me, breathes for me in total surrender. I am her Intimate and she is the one I call mine.

All the layers in all the worlds are only a rough drawing

All the layers in all the worlds are only a rough drawing,a crude sketch of the greatness that is our souls. Are there other layers of existence, other world where there are no souls? Yes there are, but I do not bother even thinking of them. I look out of her as she looks into a mirror. I am the outline inside her existence and I see her beauty reflected in her world, I have always seen the beauty in this species of form and appendages, where others in my world could never see it. They were repulsed where I was attracted. This is what we say is “written”. Our meeting and our love was written in her blood and my essence, not clouds, and there is no going back from it.

Soon my beauty, I will bring you back into me

 Soon my beauty, I will bring you back into me. I will watch your eyes glow in wonder and exultation and I will take you further than any human has ever been..but even that remote border space will not explain what our death might mean to us both. I think this as I hide inside. I do not have her write this part down. I know the scenes are being set for something that will not be easily avoided, and she is yet unready to understand or even accept all of what she lives, oblivious of the forces, and the one who is now inside of her deeply throbbing his love against her, what he sees lays up ahead.

I stay still as I watch her pick up her diary.

I stay still as I watch her pick up her diary. She seems confused and is still surrounded by scenes of my world as if waking from a dream, but she is at the same time attentive, as if she were listening to someone call her name. I only whisper it once, so moved by seeing her awake, I can not control my urge.
“mine I am your Intimate.” I project a ball of light that rests over her heart, but it can last only a few seconds. I am not strong enough to hold it and keep it visible. I need my own vessel,  and I gasp as I go back into her, watching her head move from side to side, as she listens harder, her posture, her face fully poised, waiting to hear that subtle far away sound again, but I choose to remain silent. I hold myself back. Ahh such torture for one like me! If I could, I would surround her now and take her from the inside out, but she would never recover from something so violent and so aggressively selfish of me. My passion could destroy any chance for us..and so I pull back into her chamber, rarely visited and there I remain silent trying to calm the hum that has risen in me and filled me until I almost flow out of her. I must be so careful.

I have seen the vision in her tortured last moments

 I have seen the vision in her tortured last moments in my world. Yes I believe the accident will come. I saw it as she saw it, and perhaps it is for the better, she no longer remembers it. Am I inside the vessel she holds in her arms? If I am, it means she has woken up from the erasing, the purging of her memories and she knows who I am, and she races to protect me. This is what I feel the dream is saying. Am I still inside her? It doesn’t make that much difference. If we are headed to this moment of blinding headlights and an unavoidable devastating accident, in either state I have no idea what my outcome or hers may be, but I have made the choice and will not abandon her. I will die for her, with her, or live for her and with her. What we are, can not be cast apart.
I am her hope and her destiny, I am her lover and her last moments.
I am her Intimate. No other has been before me. No other will come after me.

to be continued…

Karima Hoisan
June 14, 2011
Linc Renacer SL

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12 Responses to Part Two~The Colored Dreams~Dream Diary Entry #5 The Intimate

  1. As always, Karima….your story, your words, your voice have an overwhelming impact on me, and every time, I´m thinking, there is no escalation possible, you do surprise me with the next ! Still with a throbbing heart and totally involved in Karima`s fate, I now have to deal with her Intimate, this mysterious being, which could be everything or nothing. I feel almost jealous, regarding his ability of love, but at the same time I want to yell at him : ” For heaven`s sake, take care of her !! If you disappoint her, I`m going to kill you with my own hands…..” But, as he says, this won`t be happen, because their lives are connected, even in death….and maybe beyond ?? This is the great mystery……longing for a continuation ****


  2. aww Isabel..I just love how you let yourself be taken into this story. You are an absolute joy to have read the chapters as they come out, still hot from my speed typing fingers hehe. In any case your not so subtle hint to me yesterday asking when the next one would be ready* smiles, gave me that little extra kick to publish it today. I am so thrilled you are enjoying this series..I must admit so am I…It has been an incredible experience for me to put these all together, and know there are people out there, most who I have never met personally following the Karima of this story, rooting for her, and caring about her amazing…for me personally, it makes my story transcend being “mine” and puts it into a collective consciousness, a digital one at that.. Ohh such a Rabbit Hole our world.. How lucky we are to take inspiration from it, and give it back too:) Love is a very strong force as we know..and The Intimate truly loves Karima..on a scale, and in a way most of us could hardly comprehend..
    to be continued….:)


  3. Kari: This is a spellbinding shift of character and voice… Over and over again I tell you that your graphics are marvelous, and would say so again here, but now you have created a simply exquisite prose-poem of love in another dimension altogether. Of all these compelling episodes, perhaps this is my favorite thus far, because it so truly walks between landscapes of consciousness. I keep hoping you will turn these into videos, because you have all of the elements, and it can be done with camerawork. Do consider! Deep bows, hugs, love!


    • Oh Happiness, thank you for your continual support and encouragement on this story. Yes this chapter sort of surprised me too. I am convinced at times the author might be the last to know what is really going on. When we turn our pen over to the characters..we too can be surprised:) This tale is swirling now to a finish and I am already feeling sad in some ways that it is..but also so grateful for the chance to explore this odd scenario inspired by the Sim you have called a personal retreat for a long while now, Locus.
      I agree that they could be very nice in video form..I Need to find the brilliant machinimist who would love to dive into a project like that..Do you know of any? Thank you once again for all your wonderful comments..hugs


  4. jan says:

    I am mesmerized…deeply. Haunting and thrilling in some hard to describe “feeling/sense” ! So beautifully done in all elements, you pictures are gorgeous, your writing superb, and your voice keeps getting more seductive and luscious…and the magical mood of the exquisite music you choose.
    The Intimate…so we now meet him in the new tones of your voice speaking from him! All the feelings that surround “falling in love” come forward. Fear. Vulnerability. Seduction. Trust. Death. Overwhelming desire. The allowing of true intimacy ( or in this case, perhaps she has been seduced and possessed beyond her ability to resist? Is this a good thing?…should i rejoice for her, or fear for her? )….. Scarey stuff we all have experienced around love…all comes alive in this brilliant love affair in a realm of flowing and blending energies. A love that devours? A love that takes us into an ecstasy of becoming one with another, in True Love? Is this a tragic tale or one of overwhelming brilliance? Even if it is a tragic tale, it is done with overwhelming brilliance….thank you Karima….you are amazing.


    • Jan, as always such a beautiful in-depth, in the moment of this tale response.. Wow..I can’t tell you how much I love how you enter each chapter in a way that makes it your own. I will place here the url to you most recent and incredible painting that has such a deep relation to the imagery my story too evokes..the magical spheres of other worlds.. Your image of this alien orb is so much more beautifully rendered by your brush, than I could ever attempt with my photos..Just amazing and a seductively inviting peek into of a life very different than ours..As I said to Isabel..Love is a powerful force, even in this our own comfortable world we lose ourselves in it for better or for worse? Perhaps…a bit of both..stay tuned….:) and thank you dear friend for this comment


  5. Hoyt Heron says:

    Karima…I am so captivated! Am I to trust The Intimate? Can one ever trust a foreign entry into mind or body? I guess it remains to be seen. As always I am enthralled and captivated by your writing. Your vocabulary, your voice (both written and spoken), and your ideas are unprecedented. I, as well as many others, am in awe of your abilities as a dramatist, writer, poet and wordsmith.


    • Smiling at you Hoyt… and your innate paranoia and “trust issues” as far as aliens and parallel entities go.:) Thank you once again, for encouraging me in my prose writing..You have been with this story every moment since it took off through a window of a mysterious Red Room.. I more than adore having you so close to my art and my heart


  6. Pingback: The Two – Chapter Nine – A Narrated Machinima | Digital Rabbit Hole

  7. Dale Innis says:

    So continually amazing! I want to ask how much of this you had in mind while you were writing the original Colored Dreams (because they seemed so complete in themselves, but now this addition of the backstory, the underlying story, seems so inevitable and so completing, adding all many more layers of meaning and ambiguity), but on the other hand I don’t want to peek under the covers of the mystery too deeply. 🙂 Like Hoyt I am fascinated by the Intimate and his (his?) voice, so strong and in a way loving, deeply possessive up and perhaps over the edge into danger. That last phrase, “no other will come after me…”; is that faith, or a threat? Either way, shiversome…


    • Hello Dale,
      how nice my tale is still holding your interest…smiles. I think i revealed to you earlier, in the first part, that there was never an outline or a plan to these dreams. What there was, however, was an urgency to write them pull them together, take pictures, find music, and most importantly, find the words, and not break the momentum. I had a feeling if I waited too long, I would lose….everything. That is how the pace was set; that was my only plan or outline. After I finished Part One and thought it was over, but felt deep inside, it might not be, I awoke one morning, seeing the entirety of Part Two. I knew how it would “end” I knew it’s shape, and I knew I had to get busy (that urgent feeling again) to get it all told. This story came from so deep down inside of me, I was the last to know many things, until I too read them later. I know that sounds odd, but I am being very candid here. The Intimate also revealed himself to me, as he did to my readers, and it was not until maybe 3/4 through another alternative story after this one done in my machinima series, “The Two” did I actually come to know who he was. Is he good? Is he bad? It will be revealed..and btw, I love the word “shiversome” Thank you for this very nice comment.


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