Free Falling Flower

Posted on June 19, 2011 by Karima Hoisan

Free Falling Flower

 Free Falling Flower

The beginning is a tight-wound bud of choice

The beginning is a tight- wound bud of choice,
closed up around one tiny thoughtful seed
smooth and reckless in unknown potential
an egg of some rare and unnamed species.
Anything might hatch, anything might see the light.

Then the orchestration plays its song

Then the orchestration plays its song,
starving winds, a piper’s plaintive flute and bells
suspended bloom the breeze now coaxes patiently
and dancing petals bend and beg to open.
No one can stop revealing this unraveling.

The stem revolving, slowly poised and changing

The stem revolving slowly poised and changing,
just a dot upon the afterthoughts of dreaming air
whose breezes tease, exert control and mold
those petals pushing, straining out to open,
this flower stretched and groomed, designed to fall.

Ah, the leap of faith for blossom bravely plunges

Ah, the leap of faith for blossom bravely plunges,
the world below is like a mouse unto its’ hawk and dive.
and every part unwinds to rushing gravity divine
falling with no net or guide, just falling
perfuming sky, while cloud banks raise their flags.

Grace is not essential for a flowering offering

Grace is not essential for a flowering offering,
careening down abandoning both balance and restraint,
hidden petals whistling, twisting round on opening
It’s the plummet of the trusting bloom surrendering,
To forces pulling, unbinding cloistered beauty in descent.

Freedom's sigh escapes from lips of clinging leaves

Freedom’s sigh escapes from lips of clinging leaves,
all is open wide as in slow motion now it floats.
Who would be the one to pity this free falling choice of beauty?
Every twirl on every current, brings it closer to its marker
Every second in decline, sweet perfume paints the countryside.

And just before it makes a perfect upright landing

And just before it makes a perfect upright landing,
it somehow knows that this is where it was to be.
The seed it carries finds its way to nurtured earth and mud
What will it grow is not decided by the trusting carrier
Whose pleasure was to only serve the need, free falling was its destiny.


Karima Hoisan
June 18, 2011
Locus SL
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The Fairy Stripper~ A True Story

Posted on June 16, 2011 by Karima Hoisan

a photographic re-enactment of the moment

 One day, back in August of 2008 we were sitting around a campfire on my ranch, each sharing what our most embarrassing moments were as new residents in our new world of SL. Later that night, I decided to write one out, that wasn’t about me, although believe me I had my share, but nothing as memorable as what I will now relate to you about a dear friend of mine, let’s call her S., who has authorized the re- telling of her plight and has given me final approval on this version, which I assure you is 100% true and accurate.
 I personally found this incident so funny, I could hardly tell it the first week after it happened. I kept seeing it in mind’s eye and no matter how many times I ran it through, it didn’t lose its hysteria for me, so I could never finish telling it without giggling uncontrollably.

My friend was 2 days old, which for most of us becomes a vague remembrance.
We  forget how that very noob quality even felt, especially if we have been here at least 6 months. We tend to forget how EVERYTHING was new. Well I was with her closely the first days because I had talked her into coming to SL, so I had a responsibility to help her in what I could. I assisted her in getting new skin (top of the list in importance as far as I’m concerned) and hair,  a new outfit she picked out herself and just how to sit down, teleport, grab something, use a pose ball, the basics. Her final decision was to attach wings and be a fairy. I am not so into that but I figured why not? This IS SL. If she wants to be a fairy, who am I to say she shouldn’t?

Day 2 started off promising. She looked fantastic!  Wings fluttering behind her sea- green and blue dress. She could  walk very well now with her new AO, and looked like she had been here, so much longer than a day. All visible noobie traits were now not so easily visible. I decided to present her to my friends one at a time. The friend I chose was actually a neighbor on the Sim where I myself had first landed in SL, LINC Island. He was a great guy but rather reserved, and maybe his military background in RL helped to give him a straight upright and moral quality. I invited them both to my house where I had a little Arabic seating arrangement on the floor, individual cushions and plants all around. I thought it would be a nice ambiance to serve some tea, introduce her to my neighbor and just chat for awhile.

We all sat cross legged on the pillows facing each other in a tight circle. He had no trouble sitting down, but it took her a few seconds longer to sit rather than attempt to “take” the cushion, or “more” the cushion. She finally made the correct  right click choice and sat.
I handed him his tea, one for her, and kept one for myself. To my surprise her tea seemed to be steaming more than all the others. The steam enveloped her and I could not even see the cup in her hand. It looked like that part of the living room had caught fire, and she was surrounded by smokey vapor, a cloud cover that covered her almost completely.
  “Oh wow! What did you do? I don’t think that was the tea you found in your inventory. It’s in recent called ‘cup of tea’ just wear it and detach this other thing.”
 I tried to be helpful.
 “Oh I am not sure what I put on wait,” and she took another few seconds and then voila!! Her dress came off. Behind the steam I could see a medium-tan fairy in her bra and aquamarine pants. She had definitely detached the wrong thing.
  “Ohh S. No! that  is your dress. No.. put ON the dress. Wear the dress and  take off the vapor, or the steam, I am not sure what it even is called, do you see anything like it? Detach it. Just Detach it and put on the dress!”
 “I don’t see any dress, oh wait there I see pants”
 “No NO you have your pants on…….oh too late.”
The pants came off.
If I did not know her as well as I did, I would have sworn she had worked this routine out  just to shock us all. My neighbor was wordless, staring at her from a close distance of maybe 2 meters, drinking tea.
 Thank God for the steam. She was down to bra and panties and I was trying to save the situation as best I could as she was definitely not helping it.
“S… just put it all back on. Just find the dress, it looks like a blouse or a cube and the pants, they look like pants, and put it all back on and detach the vapor cloud.”
My neighbor, silent as a sphinx, while her wings were fluttering behind her, slightly opaque in the haze,
“Ok S. last attempt to get dressed. You with me??”
Now I was starting to see how funny this was, and could hardly contain myself to write out the instructions ONE MORE TIME.
 Her avi was so cute too, like a little angel, curly blonde hair and here she was stripping for an ex-Marine, who she had met 6 minutes before, while sitting cross legged, very cross legged behind her unnamed, unfound, apparently non- detachable smoke screen.
  “Oh wait here it is I think!” S proudly exclaimed and we all held our breath.
Would her dress go on? Would her wings come off? Each of us lost in our own thoughts and fears. She didn’t fail us, and in the position she was sitting, in she was 100% certifiably pornographic!
 My neighbor was sweet but horrified. Thank God for the vapor.
 It hid the details, so now we could just imagine we were imagining we saw her cross-legged stark naked with wings incredibly still attached.
Then her famous last words, the great finale was,
“Oh I think I found it. I know now what it is called. I got it at freebie dungeon called ‘Hot Steam’ “
She had not,looked at herself, not being adept at camera use yet, and had no idea she was  bra -less and panty-less only wings clinging to her, afraid they might be next.
“No! S. No don’t detach it. Just don’t touch it  Just ……”
OMG
She detached the steam!
Ta Da it was the end of her act… a Really Big Finale as it was just so clear and in your face that it sent my neighbor to stand quickly and go home to turn off a roast he remembered he had in the oven.
S. still didn’t know what happened as she hadn’t learned to look at herself moving the camera position and when  she did. well……
We laughed about it for 23 days..I would  wake up in the middle of the night in RL and hear her say.
 “OH I think I found it” and just laugh myself back to sleep again.

Karima Hoisan
Aug.27, 2008
La Fortuna Costa Rica Sims SL
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Part Two~The Colored Dreams~Dream Diary Entry #5 The Intimate

Posted on June 14, 2011 by Karima Hoisan

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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We Are What We Watch

Posted on June 11, 2011 by Karima Hoisan

I have never mentioned this in a blog post, but most friends in Second Life already know that between the hours of 6pmslt and 8pmslt I am usually unreachable, as it is my Sacred Video Time shared with my buddy Menubar Memorial. Unbelievably, and I am rolling my own eyes here, we have been doing this for more than 15 months, and rare are the nights, maybe counted on one hand, that we have missed our Video Hour. The irony is, I only watch television, and TV series in Second Life (addicted much?) but it is because TV is not interactive enough for me. There is so much more fun to be had, sitting with someone thousands of miles away, kibitzing and commenting in local chat on what we are seeing at the exact same time on his giant screen, perched up high in very tall chairs, nibbling on super-sized donuts, “The Cabin” as we call it, was Menubar’s first decorating choice because we were starting Twin Peaks way back when, and he wanted to put us in the  black-cuppa joe-donut-mood, that Twin Peaks was so famous for.

Complete with Log Lady's Log and the Owl

We have seen such an incredible number and eclectic variety of movies, and entire season’s of TV shows, that my small mind probably can’t remember them all here, but they go from everything David Lynch made(or dreamed of making) Huff, The Sopranos, Roger Water’s The Wall, Lexx, Trailer Park Boys, My Name Is Earl, Stingray Sam, Star Trek ( Deep Space Nine and The Next Generation) The Wire, lots of quirky weird movies Menubar finds from all over the world, like Big Man Japan(we invited Crap Mariner to share that one with us ) to now finally what we are totally engrossed in, thanks to my SL sister Maria Vought, owner of a really popular and fabulous Sim called “Natural Wilderness”, who suggested it.  Dr Who is a series that has lasted 49 years, but we are beginning it from 2005 to present time. I found a few random moments of Cabin Video life I will share with you below.

It all started with Twin Peaks..warming up with an Intermission video

The Cabin was designed to get into the mood for Twin Peaks. Every time we saw that robin come on the screen, and heard the music, we felt like we were coming home to heaven.
Menubar even added the Log Lady’s log, the Owl and the fish to the coffee pot for you Twin Peakers out there, who remember all those little surreal David Lynch details.

Watching a Seba Sideways-Tukso Okey video by Menubar

A favorite to warm up with, was a great music video Menubar did for Seba Sideways and Tukso Okey dual streaming, called “Sold My Soul To The Devil” I have it on a post I did about Tukso and you can see it there embedded at the end, above a poem I wrote for him.

Jeff Wayne's War Of The Worlds

A few times we did move out of our habitual north woods habitat, and go down to enjoy a concert or a special surround video in the Dome, events like Roger Water’s The Wall Live in Berlin, because a show like that is too hard to just sit in a high chair and not get up and dance all around to it

A new video set by Menubar to honor the movie Dune

For David Lynch’s Dune, Menubar put us out on the sands in such a way, we felt like we were really there with both of us nervously looking around for those tell tale signs of bulging underground Sandworm movement in our direction. Awesome! Can a living room at home ever compare to this?

Uniformed and ready to witness the end of Star Trek Deep Space Nine

For the last episode of Star Trek, which took us months and months to get through, even watching 3 at a clip, we got all dressed up in role and proudly put the final seal on the fact that we were now officially Second Life Trekkers!

Happiness Merryman joined us for a Dr.Who

Happiness Merryman of 2nd Life Stories joined us one night for Dr. Who and took this great shot for her blog  Now Menubar has added almost all the cast of the major series we have seen together (plus all the posters he has done for my poetry readings.) Our Cabin is filling up with 15 months of nostalgia and history, and we are getting more visitors too. Gracie Kendal (of the 1000 avatars project) has become a regular in the last week. This brings me to my theory, which I will try to prove in only a few short sentences and two photos submitted as evidence to support it.,

We are what we watch..and we are watching a lot of Dr.Who.

If we are what we watch, and we are watching a lot of Dr. Who, there is a real possibility we might pull in the good Doctor, or at least some of his fellow travelers at any minute. So when a week ago, I received an IM from someone who had just been to a poetry reading I did, and I saw on his profile that he was a “Renegade Time Traveler” ( Dr. Who being the last of the Time Travelers) I did not hesitate to ask for a ride on his TARDIS. ( Time and relative dimension in space) the best space ship (disguised as a Police Box) in the whole universe. Last night I actually took that ride…

Emperor Nobilis and his TARDIS with Karima Rose

What a thrill to hear and see the TARDIS appear on my Sim

I did the quickest change into Rose (Dr. Who’s cherished traveling companion) I could pull off, before the TARDIS landed, or should I say appeared, on my island. I was digging way down deep to find my blonde wig, knowing my rather long nose was unlike her turned up one, but trying to get the feel of someone familiar, that the TARDIS and its pilot, might easily and comfortably welcome. The Renegade Time Traveler, also known in Second Life as Emperor Nobilis, was an amazing host and took me to see many lands, and many undreamed wonders of the Metaverse. It was like being in a second level virtual voyage, a virtual dream within a virtual dream. Is watching a flat screen TV on a Friday night with your cat ever this much fun?
Then today my theory was again proven when I was invited to the first Combat Card Tournament on Splintered Rock. I, who have been gorging on sci-fi characters through my eye-balls recently, now have a Combat Card, designed as my own character, one I played quite a while back, but ironically it all came home today. See Post: “Was It The Spice?” To view the entire Splintered Rock Deck of Combat Cards click the link. Combat Cards are copyrighted by Doc Boffin and Osprey Therian.
I will close with this thought I was pondering tonight. Luckily Watermoon Breeze Menubar’s fabulous Sim which has his goodies for sale, and his video dome, is PG. I thought, good thing too, because the way I am pulling into my “real virtual life” what I am watching on the big screen, I think we are so much better off that it is not rated…umm Adult. I mean who knows what I could have become?….or Menubar??!!
The mind careens on the outer edges of a black hole thinking like this.

Combat Cards Splintered Rock Deck Entrancing Moves aka Karima Hoisan

They should have called me “Dangerous Entrancing Moves” as…Entrancing is my middle name..

The End
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Sea Swell

Posted on June 9, 2011 by Karima Hoisan

“The seas can be a wandering voyager…”

 Sea Swell

for Rob Steenhorst the artist

Now,
some incline to travel o’er the lands, on hooves well shod, with saddles oiled
and girth straps tight,
those graceful riders stirrups measured, find their seat and with an easy rein outstretched, prepare to cover miles by night.

And so it was a man set out to ride under the rising light, the moon’s full glow in its ascent would be his totem skyward, providing him that needed long range sight .
But moons are not the only ones, affected by the ebbs and flows of heavens fickle stride.
The seas can be a wandering voyager, drunk and reeling dangerously upon the moonshine tides.

This night passed into history, the churning river mouth washed in a swell,
flooding brackish water over Spring- high river banks and pasture lands.
The water flowed across the road, that sudden sea swell sweeping upstream everything it chanced to meet, including live stock caught, then buried in the roiling sands.

The brave and hapless rider, mounted on his gaited bay, was pulled under the surge, knocked out by rocks, a prisoner tangled in debris, held down until he drowned.
 A town woke up to tragedy, all counting heads of loved ones in the family,
and neighbors grabbed their boats and oars, while sirens wailed their sound.

The midnight horse-backed wanderer was finally carried out to sea, where it took three days for waves to send him back, that he might be buried properly.
But all say it was a miracle how those Thompson brothers in their little boat,
found his frightened bay six miles upstream paddling in the foam afloat.
The youngest finally tied him to the stern, and to their credit and their glory,
they rowed him back to safer shores,  pure-blind-luck’s survivor of this story.

Karima Hoisan
June 9, 2011
Renacer LINC Island SL

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*please see my comment

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Part Two~The Colored Dreams~Dream Diary Entry #4

Posted on June 6, 2011 by Karima Hoisan

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 #4″ 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#4.mp3

I Wake up in a nightmare

I wake up in a nightmare dressed in an evening gown lying on top of my bed, at least I think I have just awakened. It has been almost two months now, since I entered the world of my Intimate and held him in my thoughts and heart. I am confused as a haze surrounds me, and when I focus, I see mixed into the haze, an image from the other world. The applauding hands that stay silent suspend over me and I believe I have not woken up at all, but am caught between the worlds, with no way back to either one easily. As I have learned to do, I don’t fight it, although I feel a current of fear surge through me like a fast moving surf. I see what seems to be a few little balls of light, hovering in a small group, spheres from the other side, but when I concentrate on them,  and try to take note of  details like my position, what surrounds me, they disappear, and I know it is time to close my eyes, as I am feeling drawn now to the other side. I don’t even remember going to bed tonight, and it’s almost as if I were dreaming without the benefit of going to sleep. Could this be possible? I close my eyes and count at least 30 heart-beats before I open them again.

I am at the barrier

I am at the barrier, that strange pale green wall I have come to think of as I would think of a beautifully decorated door, one that always leads me into a house of mystery, love, mystical excesses and uncertainty. I can not pass through it, and I see no sign of my Intimate, yet I think to myself, why else would I be here if he did not call me? It is obvious now to me, that the only way I can pass over, is if I am invited in. I wrap myself in the wall, and pray in my way, trying to contact him through my mind with my most fervent thoughts of wanting to see him. I close my eyes one more time, and I imagine holding the sphere that contains his amazing and beautiful life form. I allow my longing to show through my images, the longing to be reunited with him, just one more time. My whole body begins to tremble, with just the memory of what it feels like to be joined to him, in a ritual that cannot even be described, only felt and felt again and again. My obsession in these last two months, to see my Intimate and to be denied that request, has caused me suffering, and tension that has crossed over into my daily life affecting ultimately both friends and family, especially my sister Ismara.

“Please let me in…”

“Please let me in,” I say it with my voice, although when I am with my Intimate, I never use it to speak, only to gasp, and moan, and be overwhelmed. Then these sounds come out of me not as communication, but more as involuntary signals, that I am being taken so deep and so far away from what I call reality, that my mind, reverts to something more basic, than the intelligent woman I always believed I was. I am like a dumbstruck animal, who can’t help or stop the strange sounds that flow out of her. As I sit back at the wall, and try several times the method of closing my eyes and releasing all expectations, even releasing the hope that I might find myself on the other side, a glowing sphere drifts slowly towards me coming from the farthest point I can make out. It floats in silence, no humming, none of those odd singing sounds that sometimes accompany them and it pushes through the fibrous framework until it rests directly in front of me.

This is not my Intimate…

This is not my Intimate… oh I know it before it even reaches me. Why has he not come? I ask it directly  in my thoughts, I do not wait for it to enter in mine,
“Where is my Intimate? Why have you come for me instead of him?”
The sphere answers me, in strange tones, so unfamiliar, very thin and strident,
“He will not come. The one of us you call yours, that you call my Intimate, does not belong to you. You will cease to call him this name in my presence, or in the presence of the others. This is unacceptable.”
“Why? Why will he not come? Please, I beg of you, allow me to see him and to talk to him, even if it be only a few minutes.”
“No. Do not ask again.”
“Then let me go. This world holds nothing for me if I am denied seeing him.”
“That is correct,” its dissonant tone so harsh,” Our world holds nothing for you, and you are not welcome into it. But it is not so easy as you think , to just go. No, you will come with me.”

…landing on moving floors surrounded by tipping walls

 I don’t even have time to protest or blink my eyes, when all of a sudden I find myself landing on moving floors surrounded by tipping walls, it is so dizzying, I almost fall. This room, this place on their side has never been viewed by me before, not in my other journeys here. Even though everything in their world is constructed in ways I am not used to seeing, somehow all seems in order, and balance, maybe not the order I am accustomed to, but not molded in moving chaos, as I now feel I am seeing and standing upon. Something seems so wrong. I can not get any hint my Intimate is even present here, no feeling of him at all, as I stand dazed and reflecting what all this, the bringing of me here by force is all about. I’m scared. I am so scared, and worse yet, I am totally alone.

Then the sounds begin

 Then the sounds begin to shoot into my head, and I choose the word carefully, it is as if I am being shot in sound vibrations, not music, and not voice, but pitches and tones that clash as if they were fighting among themselves. It is so painful and disorienting, and even if I put my hands over my ears, there is no stopping it, as it is being bombarded at me from the inside, and not coming at me from out there. The doors and the windows are in constant motion, they seem as if they are disassembling themselves before my very eyes. The moldings lift off the floors, separate into sharp pieces and fly at me passing through me, releasing currents of pain on impact, that although last but a second, are very sharp and unpleasant. My mouth begins to protest, by wincing and gritting my teeth, and the fear of the unknown rises up into my throat and begins to choke. Whatever is going on, I say to myself, I will not give them the pleasure of showing them how terrified I now am.

thrown to the ground by an unnatural disaster

Then I am violently thrown to the ground by an unnatural disaster, as if a tornado and an earthquake joined forces and shrieked a howling moaning duet over the entire room. Then small balls, small orbs begin to buzz around my fallen frame, and each time I make an attempt to stand up, to try and find some balance, on this moving floor, that is like being on a ship on rough turbulent seas, I feel them send me back down to my knees again, and there is no way I can right myself. The adrenaline breaks the dam, and floods my entire system, heart pounding, panting breaths, sweating profusely, and the most icy fingers of fear grab hold of my courage and dig in, making it melt away, until all that is left inside of me is pure unfiltered terror.

they overpowered me

More and more begin to circle me, and they overpower me, throwing me onto my back, paralyzing me, my arms and hands and legs useless to move or defend myself, to kick or fight them off. I cry out in a desperate terrified scream
“My Intimate help me. Help me Help me.”
“Shut up. You were warned.” The chorus of orbs, devious dark feeling orbs, answer as if they were spitting the words over me, “There is no ‘my Intimate’. Nothing here belongs to you, and you do not belong here or in the thought of anyone who lives in our world. You are an intruder and you will be exorcised from us.”
“I will be what? I scream at them in my thoughts, I will be exorcised??” You all of you are the devils that need to leave me alone. I will you out of my sight. I will you all to be gone.”
There is a long silence and then in unison I feel them close to me pressing into me even into my most intimate places. One pushes into my chest, right over my heart and I feel the intention of this choice is to perhaps stop it from beating. They all begin to vibrate, humming in tones that ascend and grow louder and louder and the sound I hear them all make at once is a mocking, coarse, sneering sound of unearthly laughter.

I am raised up to my knees

I am raised up to my knees, and they continue to overpower me in disharmonious chords of laughter and chittering like the sounds electronic monkeys might make if they are attacking. The walls and floors continue to change colors, nothing is in harmony, the sounds, the sights that surround me and now the accusations that I am some kind of evil spirit that must be exorcised from them. “Oh God!.” I call out, “Save me! Please save me!” I keep trying to wake myself up, but I feel I am down so deep, there is no doing that, and a chill makes all my skin raise up as I begin to imagine what they mean by exorcising.  I try to stand again, and this time it seems I am allowed to. They seem to want me to stand.

My will is being broken and I feel them like sharks in a deep sea

 My will is being broken and I feel them like sharks in a deep sea, coming up from the bottom to tear me apart. God, where is he? Why does he allow this to happen to me? Then as I stand, my arms are pulled tightly behind my back, and I am frozen in fear and a dread, a sense of sheer agitation takes over me and I begin to sob and sob. I am at the mercy of these hostile beings, not a one feels any sympathy towards me. They act as one big bully, and synchronized mob and I feel they represent so much more than themselves, I know now the persecution is coming from the very highest level, and I have been judged and sentenced to be purged and cleansed from contaminating them or him or their world anymore.

“You Will be punished as he has already been.”

“You will be punished as he has already been.”
I hear their words as a final sentence being handed out, and now I am like a cuffed prisoner who is waiting for the decision to be declared but she is made to walk to her own execution. Even in my panic and confusion, I am not oblivious to what they just told me, “…as he has already been.” Oh my poor….”, and I don’t even think it as I know they will hear me.” Oh this is why he doesn’t come. Maybe he has been executed.” The thought stings my eyes and tears roll freely down my face.
“Oh he doesn’t come, because he doesn’t care, not because he is unable to you silly life-form, ugly thing with appendages that grab and trample everything you find.” Their thoughts are powerful and with no mercy, as they throw these words into my face.
You will be exorcised. You will no longer remember us, or him, or anything. We will mean nothing to you, as you will leave not one memory to us, and we will see you gone in our world and also soon in yours too.”
“Gone. Be Gone”
“Noooo please….” I cry out for mercy begging them to just let me go, “I promise I will never return. I will go and I will never attempt to come back.”
“LIAR!!” They hurl the bitter word at me, “It is not so easy for you who have dared to cross over to us and who have seen what is forbidden. He has erred even more than you and his punishment has been swift and just. You have been erased from any memory he ever held of you. Now we will do the same to you, as your future will be revealed.” They push me hovering above and below my bound body to a dark room and when we are all inside, they make me ascend higher and higher until my head is pressed up hard against the ceiling. I cry out,
“Stop. Stop.”
They don’t stop, but push me up even harder until, I feel the ceiling give way slightly, and my head is thrust through to the other side, which is like a floor right above this one. I am now just another orb, a round structure with hair and eyes and mouth and ears, and nose, but now I see what they have done. They have reduced me to being a sphere, limbless, with no appendages, as they say to “grab and trample everything in my path”

I am in shock

 I am in shock, and maybe they have already started to do something to me, as I feel totally immobile. My eyes can not blink and my body below the floor feels to me as if it is no longer attached, like I am decapitated here, conscious, but without benefit of the rest of me. I am numb, totally numb, and all I can do is stare out in front of me, with unblinking eyes. Then two orbs appear. Their design is so different than the others, they roll, they do not glide, and they roll within several inches of my face and then speak.
“Helmet her,” they order. “Prepare her for the sentence.” Their voices are like a booming bass duet of cold commands.
“Mute that ugly voice exit” “Helmet her now.” I feel an orb very cold and gelatinous being placed over my face, for a minute I think I will suffocate as it presses over my nose, but I still take in air, although I can not know if it goes down into my lungs or even if I still possess lungs. I feel nothing at all from below the floor.

My head is now just another orb in the floor

My head is just another orb in the floor, and the two, what I feel to be executioners, now glow and grow in size, becoming pale yellow guards one on each side of my head.
“You will be punished, purged of all memory and banished from our land.What happens to you after this, is no importance to us, but you will also suffer the consequences, for breaking the most basic rules of Creation. Solid beings and beings of airy fire, must never join together. Our worlds were meant for kinds, and you are the wrong kind.” What that one did to bring and keep you and re-bring you over and over is wrong. If you would have touched no one here, entered no one, we would look upon your infringement with more compassion, even allow you in as a sensitive observer, which is why you were let in, in the first place. However you entered into one of us, and saw what you are not allowed to see. There is no other way to right this wrong.”
I stare, eyes pinned open, watching the haze grow brighter and brighter.There are no tears, no cries, no protests, now not even any thoughts. I try to hold the sensation of him in my mind, not scenes, not memories, the feeling of love that he allowed me to feel. Will I die now for this sin? I surrender and think only these words, “So be it”

All begins to grow fainter and lighter

 All begins to grow fainter and lighter and I feel I am dying or being put under an anesthetic, and soon will lose the little bit of consciousness that I cling to. I know now they have already done the same thing to him, and this thought makes it all easier somehow, because now I feel I don’t care. There is only one regret I have and that is that I never had a chance to say goodbye properly to Ismara. I never told her of this, because I was so afraid that she might be sucked in too. I know they are monitoring each thought and I now let them see my concern about my sweet twin sister, who has shared my love with me, and who no one in my world, ever came closer, or knew me better and more honestly than her. They answer me. They answer me with their thoughts,
“We do not injure those who respect the barrier.” If she stays on her side, she has nothing to fear.”
“Be purged and be gone.” They all repeat this over and over until I slip away.

I find I am not dead but waking up in the driver’s seat of my car

I find I am not dead, but waking up in the drivers seat of my car, the music plays on my radio, a tune I am familiar with, one I play over and over. All is still so hazy, and I am not sure how long I have been dreaming. This dream seems very unclear, as most dreams do, but I decide to see where it is taking me. I am not afraid.

Small little  colorful balls are hovering

Small little colorful balls are hovering and I think, “these balls remind me of something, something else, something more than a game.” They seem to be harmless, but for some reason float in my car, and my car is not on any highway I remember, but rather on planes of shifting scenery, and so many sounds of life as I know it, from  dogs barking to rain falling, even claps of thunder overhead. I see myself as if I have a camera that revolves and zooms in and out, but I am not really watching the road, and for a minute I try to concentrate and do that.

I look down and I am holding a large soft green ball

I look down and I am holding a large soft green ball in my outstretched hands. I don’t even have them on the wheel but seem to hold in my grasp almost desperately this sphere that looks a bit like a sealed fish bowl with no way to put in a fish. Then all of a sudden I am overcome with the deepest feelings of sadness, and of trying desperately to remember something I have forgotten. I get so close… I almost grasp it, but then it is robbed from me, snatched away just when I think I have it. I feel so utterly alone, and the tears flow out of my eyes in a stinging river of desolation and despair. I drive, sobbing, the rain hitting the windshield blocking my view, the hum of the engine, the wipers beating their rhythm, I drive on blindly, knowing that I can not stop this dream.

“I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry”

 “I’m so sorry. I am so sorry.” I don’t even know why, but I suddenly feel it…so sorry.

truck in my lane..in the rain

The tears run down my face, the downpour washes away the visibility on my windshield, and with all of this, there is suddenly looming up ahead, quickly , silently,
a truck in my lane…in the rain heading right into me.
“Oh God please no!”

heading into the headlights

I try to grab the wheel, but the sphere I hold seems some how attached to me, and I can’t let it go. I am heading into the headlights of the oncoming truck, and I see there is no way to escape it.

At almost the last minute I try to duck down

At almost the last minute, I try to duck down, maybe a last -second desperate attempt to not go through the windshield, but it seems I am glued into this upright position. My arms and legs are not responding to my terrified pleading to get down..”Get down, get down, get down” I hear my voice, but also too I hear another over it. Oh whose voice can that be? It is like an angel inside of me and it begs me to “get down.” I am powerless to move, powerless to stop this accident and I face it head on.

This is my death, so be it…

This is my death, so be it… and at the last moment I am finally able to shut my eyes.

I am thrown out of the car

I am thrown out of the car, and all I hear is the sound of wrenching metal, broken glass, and my own screaming, as the car falls on top of me. The class bowl in my hands breaks into a million pieces, and the pieces pierce me and I feel a heat enter me and hide deep down inside of me.

 Is this my dream within a dream and I am dying?

Is this my dream within a dream and I am dying?

No , I am hanging in mid-air

I am hanging in mid-air and the accident is now a fading memory. I know I am still dreaming as this is no place in reality I have ever seen before. I feel no pain, and I feel no fear, just being carried from one dream to the next, semi-lucid, semi -detached, but now with a new sense that I am not alone, even though I seem to be completely on my own

I have been marked by a red hand

I have been marked by a red hand, that looks as it it were dipped in paint and pressed upon me as some sort of sign, or message. I struggle with the control of my arms, and legs,  and they feel like they don’t even belong to my body. Sometimes they move in spite of me, and sometimes simply do not obey me.

I am in the strangest landscape

I am in the strangest landscape, with that odd feeling, I have seen this before in another dream, but I am tied somehow and not free to move around, or just get up and leave. I wait patiently numb, enjoying the peace and silence of this scene, so different from the one I just  dreamed before..the accident on a rainy night- time highway

I want to end it now. Let me end it

“I want to end it now, let me end it.” I say it aloud, my head hanging upside down.
“I want to wake. I will wake up now. Please let me wake up now.”

A wall of hands

 A wall of hands blocks my way, as I stand. I can not move in this direction, so I slowly sit down and try to understand what I am supposed to do, to get out of this dream.

I close my eyes

I close my eyes and I count many heart-beats. I feel so exhausted, and the dream of the accident,  with the truck on the rainy highway, seems like something I dreamed before a long time ago, but there is the most nagging thought, that I am forgetting something very important, perhaps leaving it behind me, something I must try to remember.

I am back  in my bed still covered in the dream

I am back in my bed, still covered in the dream, and I am looking at myself from the ceiling, seeing that this is how my dream began, the first part very hard to remember, and when I think about writing it down, I know I should wait until morning. I must remember what I have forgotten. This was a nightmare, a very confusing nightmare, maybe because I had stayed out too late and fallen asleep on top of the bed in my clothes after they brought me home from the party. I must have gotten that hand stain there. I don’t remember seeing it until now when I was waking up. “Wow what a wild party it turned out to be after all” I say confused and smiling weakly.

I know that I am keeping a dream diary

 I know that I am keeping a dream diary, or at least I was a few months back. This dream sure seems like it might be a good one to write down. I make a promise to myself  to do that in the morning. I will read all my dreams over and try to make some sort of sense out of what I just lived through in this night of dreams that began by waking into other dreams and then into others…how many layers are there in reality?  As I lie on my bed, the dream slowly fading above me, I have this strange memory or vision that there are infinite beds, with infinite girls like myself, arms stretched out wide, that we are only changing textures. We are only changing textures… on puzzle pieces that click into place, forming the fabric of the entire picture. As many as can be imagined above and as many as can be imagined below and somehow these all have to do with the deepest way of loving. I am feeling the most profound love well up from inside of me, and I hold it in my heart where I am sure if I let myself continue to feel it, my heart just might swell until it bursts.

to be continued…

Karima Hoisan
June 5, 2011
Renacer Linc Island SL

Creative Commons License
This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License

*Please see my comment on the whole series “The Colored Dreams”

 

Posted in Prose Vignettes, The Colored Dreams | Tagged , , , , , | 15 Comments

The little World Of DOUGIE Flossberg

Posted on June 1, 2011 by Karima Hoisan

Come One Come All The SLmRR is now open

Last week my railway buddy and favorite ghoul DOUGIE Flossberg sent me this poster announcing the opening of his miniature city on Thyris, complete with railway and airport, traffic, and bombs. I met DOUGIE not very long ago, March of this year, and have written several blog posts on him, because he is a very interesting Mainland character and creative avatar. See: Private Guided Rally On  The SLRR,
 Come Josephine in My Flying Machine and in this post, he is one of the Wizards.

I landed here and surveyed my surroundings

I landed on The SLmRR on Thyris and surveyed the surroundings. At first it takes a little while to get a perspective of size, and not until I walked around did I begin to feel the scale. I am going to let the pictures do the talking as I really think it’s worth going there and seeing it for yourself.

I was captivated by all the little details

I was captivated by all the little details, and transport was hopping on land, on sea and in the air

King Kong is an obvious presence

King Kong is a presence that is hard to over- look, and brings you back down quickly if you were starting to feel big and powerful in this miniature city. I crossed the tarmac and took a closer look at the canal he seemed to be protecting quite doggedly.

Hanging around on the hangar

Hanging around on the hangar in a cloud burst I suddenly got the feeling that I wished I could hitch a ride on one of the numerous take-offs that were making the runway buzz and shake. The sounds everywhere are just great by the way, and add to the feeling of being in a city.

Sometime wishes do come true

Sometimes wishes do come true and I successfully hitched a ride on a small commercial liner, which took me as far as the sim crossing. I felt the roar of the engines, and the blast of air made my curls fly on lift-off. What a rush!!

I had to slap my hand to not pull my own Kong Kong impersonation

I had to slap my hand to not pull my own King Kong impersonation, and take that little police car off the highway and swing it around a few times and toss it. I bet that would surprise the men inside no end, but honestly being bigger than most anything, can put some crazy ideas in your head.

Then I went to sit on the Big Guy's shoulder

Then I went to sit on the Big Guy’s shoulder. I know he prefers blondes, but I told him a little story that kept his interest high and his desire to eat me or maim me quite low. We bonded in our own special way, two entities too big for their habitat, and in this little city I felt he and I had more in common than anything else here. It was an experience I will always remember.

Yikes!

Yikes! When I jumped off of King Kong, I landed badly on top of a busy overpass and was about to get my knees burnt on the vertical pipes of a sixteen-wheeler.. The traffic was so heavy I wasn’t sure how to get off without getting my shins skinned. With planes taking off, and ships heading out to sea, there was a lot to look at while I figured how to remove myself from the freeway a bit more gracefully than I landed.

They were coming at me right and left

They were coming right and left at me, and finally a police car passed under me and blew his loud speaker which to me sounded like a loud squeaker and said “Get off the road lady.” He sounded like a hoarse mouse on a megaphone, but I got the message and jumped.

It was a good thing too...

It was a good thing too because the special effects truck from Flossberg Studios was weaving back and forth, a driver under the influence no doubt, and might have stubbed both my big toes at once. The skyline glowed and the rain clouds poured. Quite a little world here indeed.

"Oh Oh", I thought,"Better take cover King Kong."

“Oh Oh,” I thought,”Better take cover King Kong.” I had a funny feeling those fighter jets were about to make a big loop back over to his direction. After all… I had seen the movie.

Who might that be coming down the track?

Who might that be coming down the track? Well at first glimpse from far away I thought it was an escaped prisoner, in a retro prison outfit, riding on top of the coach car, making his get-away on the urban railway line.

DOUGIE FLossberg Creator of The SLmRR

Well to my surprise,*smiles, it was the one and only DOUGIE Flossberg, creator of this fabulous city in miniature and the SLmRR. I told him how much I loved his city and was even hoping to move my company here and hire a bunch of mini-workers to run it. He generously offered me a building and now I can proudly claim residency here on Thyris. Moments like this are why I suggest all you region dwellers, take a chance and get off your islands and re-discover the Mainlnd! Wonderful sites and wonderful people to explore. It’s a small world too….

Hoisan Publications

Hoisan Publications on Thyris… I take a deep sigh and feel pride rise as I lovingly caress the roof. Come see it Soon!!  Here is your taxi to take you to

The SLmRR

Posted in Slices of Second Life | Tagged , , , , , , | 3 Comments

Part Two~The Colored Dreams~Dream Diary Entry # 3

Posted on May 29, 2011 by Karima Hoisan

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

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

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 in seems so different at first

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 glass beetles

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?

“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.”

“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.

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

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”

 “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.”

 “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”

 “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”

 “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

  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

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”

 “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 begin to see everything through his eyes

 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.
“Ohhhhh”

I smile and I smile “Yes I understand, oh I do now”

 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

 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

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

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…”

“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 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

 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

 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…

Karima Hoisan
May 29, 2011
Renacer Linc Island Sl
Creative Commons License
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.

 

 

 

 

Posted in Prose Vignettes, The Colored Dreams | Tagged , , , , | 14 Comments

Breezes of Change Blow In Gently

Posted on May 26, 2011 by Karima Hoisan

Well, here is a somewhat different post from me today, a change from the poetry, and colorful parallel worlds and mystical love in a diary, that I have been dedicating this blog to recently.
As my friend Chrome Underwood says, “It’s always good to take a little break.”
I have lived on LINC Island (LINC stands for Life Is Not Complicated) in SL from the first day I entered Second Life at the end of 2007 and fell from Avatar Island into the world below. I have also lived on other sims too, but this was always my home base, and a little over a year ago, the owner just gave it to me one day and left SL for good. It has always been a public place, for romance, and beauty, sculptures, and art, and just a pretty nice little sim to visit with a friend. The main landing point was built in 2009 and was called “Misty Shores Memorial to Love and Beauty” That is what it was too, slow dances, fog, a dark Gothic gazebo to steal a kiss in, waves crashing and moaning against a rocky coastline. The sim was almost virtually unchanged since then.

Misty Shores Memorial To Love and Beauty

But in this virtual world, as in the big real one too, things change, and when they do we always hope that at least it will be for the better. I was struggling with keeping my island all on my own, as my other SL family members who were here with me,  from the beginning,began to leave, until I was the only one left. Many times we must swallow our aesthetic tastes, and for the sake of paying the rent watch a parking lot or a gaudy Mall go up next door on an adjoining parcel we just rented out, and I was already prepared psychologically for that event too.  I was spared this disaster by the greatest of good luck, in the form of a new friend, Happiness Merryman, who offered to take over half of it and do a joint project together with me. How much fun it is when two people have the same basic vision, yet each puts in their own seasoning to a delicious stew, that while still on the fire cooking (still under construction) is smelling very tasty indeed. The original Misty Shores has gone from darkly romantic to gloriously colorfully romantic, and at Midnight setting, it is ethereal and beautiful. We renamed it “Campo de Colores” “field or countryside of colors”.

Campo de Colores

We still have a lot to do, but it’s very much open to the public, while we keep working on it. There is a teleport system at the landing point that will take you to many of the older and unchanged original parcels on Linc Island like Kari’s Kantina del Mar( a seaside Bolero Bar) Renacer Sculpture Garden, The Cloud Forest, The Octopus Garden( a romantic undersea spot), Kari’s Pond of Peace,(a frog filled crickety night at the pond) and now Happiness is putting out drum circles, lots of cozy fire spots, and opening the sim up to light and color, romance, peace and meditation. I will include a few pictures below of different points of interest.

Renacer Sculpture Garden

You can still find some of the favorite sculptures of Scottius Polke too at the Renacer Sculpture Gardens and on the path leading there stop and play at the Drum Circle, or enjoy the Peacocks, great sounds of Nature and cuddles or meditate awhile at “Virtual Environments”

Virtual Environments

The Cloud Forest, has cozy spots to lay and enjoy, tables on a foggy bridge to drink coffee, a dance ball and the original Gothic Gazebo is now up here, so there is still that kiss to be robbed if you are so inclined  *smiles

The Cloud Forest

Take a chance and throw yourself off the Flying platform by jumping on  the Omega Star Dance ball, which holds 5 at a time and gives an amazing feeling of soaring and flying. It will dip you down under the water too, so keep your eyes open for the humpback whale.

Omega Flying Ball

The Octopus Garden, so named because it has several of them floating peacefully, at times aggressively, around the garden. It is the home of the humpback whale and my submarine abode which is open to the public as well. Blankets and places to explore, and cuddle, and of course the dance ball is fully water proof too.

The Octopus Garden

Kari’s Pond of Peace, where you can sit cozily and be serenaded by more than 15 types of toads and frogs and when you least expect it, you might be caught in a frog shower.(compliments of Menubar Memorial)

Kari's Pond of Peace

Below is the Bolero Bar where I hold a poetry reading on stream once a month, and the rest of the time, it has the greatest Spanish Bolero Stream, and a very well equipped bar and romantic Dance Ball, with little tables seaside.

Kari's Kantina del Mar

I will include a few more spots still being worked on, but all open for you to come and spend a relaxing time. SL for me and for Happiness, is about creating and collaborating and of course sharing the final product with anyone who lands on our island. So you are all most welcome to visit anywhere on the sim, and enjoy the fruits of this creative cooperation.

Happiness's Spot of Tranquility

Happiness's Spots of Tranquility

I will conclude this post, which by the way, is the first I have ever written specifically about the island I have called home for going on 4 years, with an invitation to visit us. The winds of change came in like a gentle breeze off the ocean, and transformed an island of romance, beauty, and art into another very beautiful version of itself. When you land at Campo de Colores Please pick up a free”Flower Float” which is an ingenious little vehicle, where you sit in a lotus position, and just hover over the ground, a fun and smooth way to explore the whole island. A special thanks to Nikita Weymann of Grimalkin Workshop for inventing this very elegant form of travel. Visit her shop and you will see you absolutely “need” to buy something. She has made things, no one has even imagined yet.

Please click a flower float as a gift, wear it and take off to explore

Float hovering through fields of Color

A special thanks to DB Bailey for the gift of a whole flock of his very colorful and oddly beautiful glass birds that now roam and decorate the fields.
Finally, I include one last picture, that Happiness took in one of the beautiful Glyph Graves Particle Sculptures. She is demonstrating the kiss balls in the center, which I find work much nicer if you have someone on the blue ball too, someone you really care about *winks at Happiness.

Campo de Colores with Happiness

Come Visit Us Soon. Campo de Colores LINC Island

Posted in Announcements, General Discussion, Slices of Second Life | Tagged , , , | 6 Comments

Sand Pit

Posted on May 23, 2011 by Karima Hoisan

A hazy morning, wood smoke, blooming flowers in the summer air..."

 Sand Pit

for Rob Steenhorst the artist
~*~
A hazy morning, wood smoke with blooming flowers in the summer air,
The village wakes to breakfast, and warm chatter about local gossip and the news.
Two loyal subjects, dressed for work, prepare themselves to toil and to bear,
The Royal King of Swine is to be escorted for a walk that he can not refuse.

The Porcine Monarch’s litter is well suited for the ride that he will take,
A large metal tub, which when he sits upon it, feels just like a regal throne,
To be be carried and escorted through the woods, by professionals, make no mistake,
 His steadfast constant helpers, who underneath his weight now weave and groan.

His reign has been a long one, and his growth both swift and quick,
Pampered with the best that for his kind and bloodline money could buy.
All adored and waited on him hand and foot to keep him well, and never sick,
Until this day was chosen for his grand final parade, under a watchful sky.

Is it not the way of Heads of State and Royalty to finally fall into decline,
When all their power wanes, and all their faithful hoards begin to tire?
Then off they’re carried to a sand pit, the ending of their lineage and their line,
At dawn,”Long Live The King!” at sunset just some loins, and chops to crackle on the village fire.

Karima Hoisan
May 22, 2011
Costa Rica
©2011 all rights reserved

*please see my comment below

Posted in Poems | Tagged , , , | 5 Comments