I invite you to listen to my reading of the final chapter of “The Colored Dreams” It ends with this Epilogue and I have recorded it over a beautiful moody music track that includes pieces from David Darling, Clint Mansell, and Angelo Badalamenti. I believe it will add another dimension to the story for you.
Just click on the link here:“Epilogue~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 the final pages of this tale to you out-loud.
I survived. I am the Intimate.
I speak to you now because I must. I have never been one to obey all the rules. I break one of the biggest ones to come to you tonight.
Karima met her destiny the very night she rushed out to save me from mine. Is there ever an escape from what is written on a marker and pounded into our timelines?
I remember almost nothing of the accident except that it was not totally unexpected by either of us. The shattering was around me and through me and there was no where to go in the clouds of broken glass but return to her, and seek temporary refuge once again inside the one I loved...or so I thought.
There is no time outside of Time, but for those who are left conscious and awake, we have too much empty space and so we remember. At first I was confused, and as I became more aware of my situation, which was not like before, I began to doubt I would survive this. Karima it was shown to me quickly, had not survived, at least not what I would define as survival, for she went to sleep so deeply, I could wander through her empty halls, her empty cement boring retaining walls, and not hear a thought or even an echo of one. Where was the glow? Where was her light and shine and her brave foolish trusting? How did she slip away and where? I searched every crevasse and every door was locked and every window was black- curtained in lead and barred. I had lost her and she was mine… not to lose but to love and protect.
There was more room there than I could ever imagine would be possible inside a human being. She who was so full of vibrancy and passion and artistry, but in an intersection with a truck on a stormy night, all of this had been converted into a drafty underground parking lot that echoed with my thoughts..but not hers. I cried in my own way, I lamented in waves that shook and beat upon the prison I was now locked into. In a way she was the orb I always felt present, yet she was more..and now she was less than even human. Gone, only closed walls, that I could not penetrate, and the sounds were muffled, as I could only hear what her damaged brain allowed now, in this deep trance of what they called a coma. I could move within her, but I could no longer move her, not even to make her eye twitch. This was like a burial alive and she was the secured empty coffin and I had stopped many long endless thoughts ago, and futile callings -out of her name, to try and wake and join her back together again with me. She was still alive on some level, as I was still alive, but our difference was that she did not realize she had been shut down and yet her organs cued by machinery, pumped the basic program of keeping her flesh alive. I have no flesh, but I have a soul, and I am aware and this horror began to feel endless.
Her rhythmic breathing was my clock, her heartbeats my own funeral dirge, a constant pumping… whooshing that sometimes comforted me, and sometimes drove me to the thin edges of what is bearable. I thought,”Just let it stop. I wish it to stop,” because if it did, then so would I, and what ever awaited us, be it oblivion, or something more, had to be better than what we lived now; her numbed sleep in a death- state suspended hovering between what held us both and the possibilities of what might await us. I say might, because I did not have the answers about Life and Death that you perhaps think I did. Many times I felt fear, and weakness, and it was a penance, that not even a judge of my world could have been cruel enough to invent; so close to the one I loved, and yet locked out completely from her heart, from her dreams even..locked out and banished while hearing her breathe in and out,while I am sentenced to be trapped helplessly inside of her.
Then, after what seemed like an endless count of heartbeats, when I had the least hope that anything might change..something began to change. The walls became thinner, and I felt her stir, as the first vague images were projected out from her mind, from her deep caverns of abstract impulses, I saw something, that I knew was not coming from me and also I could hear more sounds of what was happening around us.
“Color therapy” someone said outside, and all of a sudden the curtain began to absorb itself, getting thinner and thinner until it was nothing more than a wispy cloud cover, that was in movement, blowing out of the way. I held myself totally still, and waited for some sign of her to materialize in the clarity.
The colors came in bright powerful bursts and the emptiness began to fill in with vague but certain detailed imagery When she began to see, I too began to see. All of these pictures were hers, and I had to move out of the way, to find my own place now, as it was not like before. “She awakes,” I suspended myself in shock and expectant disbelief.
The scenery her mind was painting tore my heart in two. It was that beautiful, but she was far from being back into her conscious state. If anything she was dreaming up, perhaps a level higher, but still only dreaming. I whispered her name “mine” but she did not respond, just showed me scene after scene of tranquil, colorful impressionistic patterns, that soothed me, and for the first time, since the accident brought me a sense of peace and hope. I pondered the wisdom of telling her who I was. I feared she might retreat into insanity, if she thought I was trapped inside of her, yet I knew she was not awake enough for that to be even a danger at this point. So little of her had returned, and my power, so diminished, that I knew we could survive together like this, maybe indefinitely.
“We will try a new color each session,” one of them said, and I strained to hear and understand what it was they were trying to do for her. It was surprisingly Karima herself who let me know one day, when they bombarded her retinas with pure red and blue, for she spoke in thoughts that I could finally hear.
“My red room now lets in the blue… like a doorman suspiciously lets in strangers…”
It was her first thought that I could make out, and I was so startled, I almost answered her right there, but then, I held myself in check and waited to see what she was thinking. She felt and believed and talked about a presence, one who called her a “good girl” but how could she know that presence she was dreaming about was really me? I did take a chance, and slowly began to speak to her.. but not that day, and it appeared no one else but myself could hear her thoughts. I held back and was treated to her sensuality rising out in swirls of smoke from the roof of her prison .
“Ahh mine..this is you returning..Dream up and up sweet mine. Return again to me…to Life”
I waited, which was so hard for me until the next treatment, then, and it was spontaneous, I answered her, one moment when she spoke to me. Although she did not know who I was, nor would I force her to remember in her precarious state, she sensed she knew me, was not afraid of me, even if she did not yet totally trust me. The trust would come slowly, but I had all the patience now in the universe, because I was believing she would return to life and to me, and to all who loved her. I truly wished for and believed this to be the miracle I waited for, just as all who loved her waited too.
Just seeing her again alive in her own mind, set my desires on fire. Like a voyeur who had been invited into her fantasies, I felt her awakening and I felt it as much or more than she was feeling.I was moved to come out from my guise and say to her “Mine I am your Intimate.We will make it through,” but my own careful intuition whispered to me, “No! Let her wake on her own to the reality of you. If she calls your name, answer her. If she does not, guide her, protect her, stay close to her. She is riding on her own pounded -out destiny..that not even you inside of her can change.”
I dried her tears with my own healing, her compassion and her sensitivity caused me to disassociate at times so profoundly, that I could not speak to her, but only observe her in astonished silence… and impotency. I realized I had never known her, not all of her, for when I entered into her before in my world, and that last night in her room, she still had small strands of resistance, that did not allow me to see into every door I wished, yet now, I was able to, and it was such a strong experience for me, I was left unable to be my own best self, which would be to serve as her patient security and her gentle guide.
I too saw and lived the colors they projected onto her, I was with her, and bound by the greatest sense of trying to keep my own balance so as not to unbalance her. She was many times fearful, unsure, confused, yet little by little she began to trust me and to trust I loved her, and in so many ways she began to show me she also loved me. I was thinking that maybe this would be our life, here with the machinery pumping the vital force into her fragile flesh, we could dream together and no one would have to wake us up. That sounded better than losing her. If the treatment did succeed and she moved up into consciousness, I would find a way once again slowly to let her know that I was her Intimate and I had been and was with her always.
Then one day, I heard them say, “This will be the last time we try. If she does not respond, we will respect the family’s wishes, and remove her life support” Did I know what that might mean to me if that eventuality occurred? It would mean the end of her physical self, and would also be the end of mine, and as I tried to prepare her for that possibility, I needed to prepare myself as well. She was so brave, and so trusting, that I became stronger too and I told her I loved her, and I begged her to trust me. I almost said,
“Mine, who dances with you here in this last waltz has loved you from the first moment he saw you…and it seems that was such a long time ago”
Instead I just gave her all my strength at the end, and when I told her to let go and fly, just fly free like a bird let out of a cage, I closed my eyes and surrendered to whatever would be my fate when her heart stopped, and her breaths ceased to fill the room.
I felt her separate from me as I felt myself separate from all that was her world and our level of reality. I did not protest but truly surrendered for the love of her, and the desire to witness her release. It was a thinning and a tearing, but painless, almost an aching joy, and there was no remorse. The wind and my love was what I felt, and no fear existed. I will not tell you more than you would understand, as it is not why I have called you here. In a timeless place much time can pass unnoticed and I only hope I come at the right time for you.
Filled with all that I had never seen..I realized there was still an essence of me, something was who I remembered I was, and with that tiny remembrance, there came a longing to join with something part of me, that had yet to lock into me. I saw all the pieces, of all the puzzles, with all the textures, and my piece, waited to have its perfect complement fitted tightly to it. There was no desperation, more an anticipation that it would happen, and releasing into that blind certainty, my vision began to see and take in the wonders of where I was now.
Worlds within worlds all on a circle,
Everything perfectly in order and formed,
Never was there a separation, except in our minds..
and death was mislabeled as an ending,
at most was but a hard crossing,
but then the love came surrounding,
and we were re- joined.
She is with me now as much as I am with her and we stand on this hill with you tonight. I did try once before to come to you, but I was not strong enough to hold it still and you awoke too soon. Tonight you will remember everything I tell you, and you will be filled with peace in this knowing, that souls who learn to love and surrender, after this life has been lived, have somewhere even better to go, and love goes with them.
Live yours fully Ismara.
Love your life Ismara, and love deeply without fear those who are given to you.
Know this indelibly and tell your family, that your sister is at peace and not alone.
I come to you only once in your dreams, that she may close an open door, and she asks that only you, her sister who is her other half, be the messenger that conveys to them that she loves and thanks you all… for letting her go.
San Isidro, Costa Rica
This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License.
I want to thank all of you, my readers, who have followed this story, and for those who would like to catch up, I have made a category on my home page entitled The Colored Dreams. You will find all the chapters in descending order, first post, “The Red Dream” being on the bottom and this final one “Epilogue”on top.
I hope you enjoyed reading as much as I have enjoyed the experience of writing what amounts to my first prose piece published here. What started as a short story has turned into a small graphic novel.
I am a poet and don’t usually think in complex sentences or paragraphs, so this was a challenge and a learning experience, that has given me the confidence to perhaps do another some time.
Once again my heart-felt thanks to DB Bailey(David Denton Architect) whose Sim Locus, was the visual inspiration and the photographic backdrop for the illustrations of my chapters.
I have special music choices that I used to accompany the readings and if my soul could play an instrument, it would be the cello. I want to give recognition to three incredible composers who have supplied the majority of the music on these recordings. David Darling, Clint Mansell,, and from David Lynch’s own favorite Angelo Badalamenti.
I want to thank all my friends and family in both Sl and Rl and my Sl partner, for inspiring me to attempt and see this idea to completion.
Respectfully, the ‘ending’ received moments of silence…I apparently needed that time to let it all sink in, to accept the in-finality of her fate transitioning from one world to another, the Intimate with her every step of the way. As always, while I have followed this beautiful story, my emotional strings are stretched so much, that I forced myself to stop fighting the sadness to look at the whole picture. And that eventually brought forth a tender smile of satisfaction mixed with pride. Poetic justice… an epic tale… told so well that the readers have to sort out their feelings. For me it was like closing that crack in the door that is a voyeur’s secret entryway, giving those looked upon cherished privacy. Extremely well done, Sissy and the music was a brilliant choice… Bravo!!
Thank you Sissy for your wonderful comment. I felt you truly inspired and was like a small vignette, a hidden scene perhaps, from the story:) So glad you followed and enjoyed the ride. Now…with your help. let’s make it a real pretty book:) Rolls up her sleeves and begins to look for the photos to send to you.
I have been a mostly silent observer of this epic tale sis and now it is ended (or rather your telling of it has ended for Karima and the Intimate are entering another private chapter of their own which we can imagine for ourselves) I wanted to tell you how profoundly moving it has been. I sat and listened to the last chapter with tears in my closed eyes and surrendered to the telling. I saw the colours and felt the release and shared every feeling the Intimate described.
Anyone who has loved will I think, recognise elements of your tale; the joy and exhiliration of surrendering and letting someone in or the comfort and balm complete trust in another can bring. There are lessons for us all and I am in awe of your ability to paint pictures with your words – you have surpassed yourself sis and have told a love story of astonishing depth, sensuality and passion and I thank you for sharing it with us.
Thank you Sis for your words, and exactly because I know you have been silently reading the chapters as they were posted, your beautiful comment at the end, means so very much to me. In some ways, almost all ways, I feel this story was not even mine, but was”out there” and I was lucky enough to reel it in and put it into words..Thank you for taking the whole journey with me from the very first room,, and for your loving support of me in all ways..
What a gorgeous, tearing, fabric of amazing richness! Karima’s characters move thru the journey entertwined….frightened,fierce, and ultimately do and dance of transition as all must. She has it right-it is always about love, caring, dedication transcending the terrors of moving from a physical life to one beyond. The most important part of it is being of service to those we love and support and hold dear. Her description of this private, yet powerful experience resonates at just the right pitch, the most loving way to protect our loved ones. And that is simply to love them any way we are able. Always imperfect.and yet….always perfect.
All good stories are love stories. What our essence is who we are and how we love. The colored dreams are all our lives and our hopes and dreams and frailties and bonds which all transcend physical death. Karima paints a moving tale of connection. Those all leave with us when we depart from this brief drama of a too-fleeting role as Karima or Ismara or Tube….or all that came before. Life is magic. Tears are also part of life. So is love. So is anger and regret. But, if we learned something…..we leave here unbroken carrying all our friendships and bonds with us. Karima carries the torch high enough so we can see the pathway. Thank you, Kari, for your intense, profound words of love.
Beautiful words from a unique soul, who has lived, himself, in more than one world. Thank you for your loyalty, your continual support and your guiding friendship. I only hope I may live up to who you think I can be..and this is a beautiful goal to strive for..
My deepest thanks for all your comments, your feedback and your unfailing solidarity with me Tube…
What a journey! Karima is both a friend and an inspiration, her poetry brings richness and texture to our everyday lives. Me? I’m just a “buoy in the night…” :-)))
Best regards to you, Karima, and thank you so much!
Thank you so much Jer, for following this series all the way through and for also being a friend an inspiration as your SLRR line The Jers, has inspired more than a couple of train track poem sagas! Your mind never stops inventing either, and we in SL get to be the lucky participators in all your crazy and wonderful ideas! Every time I feel a bit tense, I go to “Boomtown” to break something:) I even shot one of the chapters in this series there at the airport.
Thank you for this great comment…and best regards to you too:)
You are so … relentless.
Just when we all think, “OK, now I have my bearings, I see what’s going on here”, with a twinkle of mischief you lick your lips, and push the button, again …
The floor vanishes beneath our feet (not unlike the mechanics of HIS world) and down we all go, plummeting deeper and deeper, free-falling down the rabbit hole of your relentless creativity. Endlessly proving and reproving that when the subject is love there IS no bottom, no final door, no impenetrable wall, no limit to dimensions. The only absolute is love itself. When HE says “Just drink it like a good girl.” We all swallow. Hard.
With every curtain you pull aside, heedlessly revealing some next heart-thumping intimacy of a character, you must know that you are recklessly giving up your own shimmering intimacies to all of us. But do you have any idea how … ummm … ENGAGING … that is?
OH! — And so sorry to burden you with THIS, but none of us believe this is the end of the story (your fault). So get busy. Please.
Hmm Part lll? Who knows? I wasn’t considering that, but I said that too after I finished part one:)
I love the energy of your comment Snick, and thank you for your positive and beautiful words..I know you submerged in the story, and that is the biggest compliment I could have. I find it so wonderful, as this is the first time I have done this, to see how many people let themselves enter and go into The Colored Dreams in a really open and total way. I find that so amazing, and yes the author always does show a bit more than she planned for. The inside becomes visible to the outside.
I knew it for so long, don`t know why, but I always felt sure about it ……and you , Karima, now put it in the most beautiful and precious words : Love survives death……it grows even stronger and the so-called death is nothing else than a transition……
Besides , your portrayal of a love beyond all borders and possibilities reveals your own wide soul, capable of all these feelings, you described. I cried out of happiness, when I reached the last lines and when voice and music had faded away…I still didn`t move, listening to the echo in my heart. And a feeling of deep peace surrounded me…
I don`t need to repeat, what a masterpiece you created ..it`s more than evident ! Including the choice of pictures ( incredibly awesome ) and the music ( can`t imagine, that there would exist a better one ).
I feel blessed and privileged for having had the chance to read and live in your story.
…and I am blessed for having a reader and a friend such as yourself! You went on the whole journey with me, in such a palpable way//You spurred me on when I was letting a bit too much time go between chapters..You would say “Hmm when will you post the next?” and you always entered so deeply, in a truly free emotional wide-eyed way. Oh Isabel thank you for loving this story..Thank you for all your comments, and extra comments we shared after each one. It really inspired me to see it through to completion, and you know with readers like you, it makes me want to open myself to the next one..whatever and wherever that might be.. Un abrazo fuerte amiga del alma….
Thank you for sharing not only your immense creativity with us, but also your passion, deep introspection and philosophy which you skillfully have inserted into your prose. You have been blessed with the story telling gift. Your narrative is beautifully written. It is mesmerizing, gripping, and compelling. It has a Poe-like essence that kept my emotions reeling. I certainly hope you continue pouring forth your heart and soul to us with your powerful sagas and poems. I speak for everyone that knows and has known you. You are a gem! As I said to you before, “I don’t know how you do it.” Again, thank you.
Thank you Hoyt for your sincere words that make me feel like soaring. To be compared to Poe is more than a dream, it is one of the highest compliments ever for me, as when I was a child, going through the loss of a parent, I read him voraciously, with the still unformed mind of a 12 year old. I have not read him since, but I would not be surprised if some echos of his writings have not stuck in so deep, they can today still influence me.. In any case, thank you for all your loving support of everything I write(it seems). You are my faithful and loyal fellow traveler, in and through all of it.
OH!!! Karima…what can i say? This series is absolutely brilliant on ALL levels….from the astonishing colors and settings ( which included your discovery and use of the genius of D.B. Baily’s master works ) …. the beautiful images you captured…. the carefully chosen music which always enchants us as we enter into the realms of the non physical into which your inspiring story transports us, reaching deep into the heart… into profoundly feeling every nuance of this amazing story. So often i was transported truly out of “this world”, often bringing up tears from being so deeply moved. I happen to know that you do not partake of consciousness enhancing drugs….this is all YOU….and you are to be congratulated for this astonishing epic and sensual journey . And i have the feeling that the best is yet to come for this Love of Karima and her Intimate. Now they are free of dense matter…inspired by a love that makes it through this transition. I wonder what is next. I want
more!! But i accept the story as complete. Thank you so much for sharing your genius with those of us who are fortunate enough to know you.
Thank you my dear friend of all worlds both virtual and physical for this final comment.
Over the progression of my Colored Dreams, your feedback and words have come from a deep mystical and totally connected place to my story and they have been ones I cherished and was inspired by them, to agree to make a Part Two, after my small series of six posts. When we mutually inspire each other as creative people, it forms the deepest of bonds, and this has been our case for many years. Thank you for allowing yourself to fall into my swirl of a tale, and to identify, and love my characters, hoping for the best for all of them in the end. Ending this series was a mixed blessing for me, part of me so happy to see it completed, and another part really sad to let them go on into their own new chapters, while I am left behind. I want to point out as far as your comments go, your brilliant painting of “Alien Chrysalis” partially inspired by my story and also the fact that orbs and spheres have been continual symbols in your own art, was one of the most beautiful tangible comments I had received in this series, and for anyone reading this comment, it’s well-worth a peek to see Jan’s vision of a live sensual, throbbing orb on her blog http://www.janbettsart.com/wp/?p=114 Finally, thank you too for serving as my RL witness to the fact that vision inducing drugs were not used by me to create this story *smiles.
…one said: “Epic”…and I agree. I’m in awe of this outburst of creative energy, how it generates images in ones mind. Epic, yes….and big….broad, great words in a time where everybody is thinking narrow and small. The illustrations also contributes to this feeling of grandeur, space. Gives air to breathe….all the best and blessings from Sig….
Hello Sig!.. and thank you so much for you words..What a surprise to find them. I saw that you clicked on the .mp3 recording and got an error..I have since fixed it and also the .mp3 for the one about Noor which I recited live at the Criss reading.. I hope you will try to listen to them both when you can again..So sorry for that inconvenience. The Colored Dreams was a pretty amazing series for me too, a self-writer almost.. it just kept coming, and it was hard even for me the author, to keep up with the pace. But I am so glad you enjoyed my tale and I hope when you have time you will watch my Parallel Video-spin-off of it called “The Two” It’s a different story but has much of the Dreams intertwined through out .. sort of a variation on the theme… My best wishes to you, and please point me in the direction of any new art of yours..I always enjoy that..
Wow… Web pages hardly ever make me cry… 🙂
Worlds within worlds all on a circle,
Everything perfectly in order and formed,
Never was there a separation, except in our minds..
That is so perfect… So utterly… spiritual. And the story closes the circle back onto itself.
What an ending.
What a joy for me personally, that after two years, you came to my Dreams and were captivated enough, to see them through to this last chapter. The fact that the chapter moved you in such a way, makes me very happy indeed. Without trying to sound too semi-profound, I admit this chapter and the Orange Dream (also the Candy-Apple one) were the chapters, where I felt the least ownership of them, self -writers, spilling onto the page, they too moved me to tears..so strange, as I still find it hard to believe that I wrote them..I guess we hide so well even parts of ourselves from our very selves..Dale, thank you for taking this journey of faith, and mystery..
Dear Kari, as you know I read Colored Dreams Part I last year (in the summertime), and now here I am having found my way through Colored Dreams Part II at the onset of 2015. Having done a re-skim of Part 1, then slowly tiptoeing into Part II, needing the time to venture where I knew ardent emotions would be lain before me via your story as it unfolded. It’s been exciting to know that the machinima for Colored Dreams has begun to be formulated while I was reading Part II, and I found myself wondering and imagining how you and Nat and Dale and DB will bring it all together and to fruition. For now, I am rather mind blown from having spent the past three days reading through (and listening to you reading). This one segment in Entry 5 struck me vividly to return to and note, where you say, or rather The Intimate says: “I streaked and extended and waited for my annihilation along with hers… Can we escape what the future shows us?… Nothing is written in stone, but instead is written on clouds that shift and change before our sight….” I found it lovely and charming to follow the coming together of the two entities, of the reflection on Ismara’s needs and feelings, and on how the Beloved ones would remain together no matter what in the end. A love story like no other, sensuous, moving and beautiful, and between sisters also connected over time. A lovely tribute and reflection for your loved ones, and for all who love. Inshallah, Beautiful~
Luna, I want to express my very sincere delight and also gratefulness for your taking on this series and taking it into you, allowing it to sometimes even cause you turmoil, but always returning until you finished it. I think those who have experienced death, open doors, things left unsaid or unfinished, and even even those who had the luxury to say goodbye in the best of circumstance to those that left us behind….I think these will appreciate the story on a much more personal and deeper level. I know you are one of these, and I thank you for reading it, talking to me for hours one night and also leaving your comments. I hope that we will be able to film this series as I think it asks us to, and the logistics are not simple..and we are already seeing that..but we all believe in the project and it might, as this story itself did, take on a life an a path of its own. Thank you dear friend..so happy you will be part of our production..Can’t wait.. Big hugs and very sincere gratitude for reading my Colored Dreams.