Today I’m going to write a story using whatever pops into my mind. My objective is to encourage my mind to trust my subconscious to strengthen the link between them. My ultimate purpose is to merge my conscious mind with my subconscious so that there is no veil.
There is a boy running in the hill. A butterfly dances with the wind as it flies past his face. The wind is caressing the trees and the trees are singing with joy. A huge molten meteorite comes from outerspace and destroys this oasis. Life is short but the moment is eternal.
A young lad is standing on top of a hill. His fists resting on his waist. He feels like he owns the world. A typical working man. Full of zest for life… for this dimension. He is soo absorbed by the avalanche of sensation and thought. He could do anything but for the moment he just stands in awe, pride and future thoughts. Then he sees a fleeting shooting star in the sky. It’s a sign, he’s sure of it. The fleeting star resembling the sparkle in his eyes. He wont be here for too long, perhaps 70 or 90 years. He has forgotten who he is. But his subconscious never forgets. His gut instinct never betrays him. His whole life perfectly orchestrated to absorb the maximum amount of wisdom. Even down to the seemingly most random coincidence.
There is something coming his way… mentally. He has a premonition. He knows something is different now. It’s not like before. He feels someone is watching him. In another time period, someone is meditating… letting their mind wander… and somehow, this person thinks of, perhaps remembers, perhaps creates this exact young lad. And then, in another time period and space… someone is writing this story. I am writing about everybody. One can say that everybody exists independently of each other. They all have their own lives. Yet somehow, in this nexus, in this moment, their lives are seamlessly blended together. Why? Why??
They all have something in common… they’re all looking for something… they don’t quite know what it is. It’s like something stuck on the tip of the tongue of a fourth independent persona. They can feel the wind of fate flowing through them. They can tell it’s coming. It’s here.
It’s a clear bubble. This clear bubble is everywhere! It’s in their mind. It’s around them. It’s in front of them. They’ve never seen anything like it. The surface starts to show all sorts of transparent rainbow colors. It’s growing, it’s shrinking, it’s so intangible… it’s grand intelligence is palpable.
It shines more and more. It enters them… every part of them. Everything is changing. Everything is swirling… fading away and getting brighter at the same time… ripping apart and saturating. It’s an ecstasy unlike anything else. It’s an eye and it’s… blinking.
The sleeping giant is anxious. His eye is tired. An infinite amount of energy locked in an infinite realm. The perfect prison. The perfect feat. A desperation so abstract. An irritation soo deep. He creates and absorbs, creates and absorbs in an endless, mindless cycle. What started it all? Why did it… how did it originate in the first place? He looks for peace. He looks for calm.
He senses it. It’s female. Instantly a universe of thoughts, desires and wills hone into this female energy and results in an explosion unlike any other. It is amazing how complementary and perfectly balancing this energy is. The melding, obliterating, disappearing... anihilating each other. Until all is consumed. All is destroyed. Where does the lingering memory remain? Is there even a trace of the monumental stress? How void is the void?
image: "High on Grass" by Photocapy