I would not possibly be still alive if it wasn't for my imagination. Whenever I have been depressed, angry or overwhelmed by reality I run in its arms the same way a scared child runs back to their mother's embrace. In a sense, my imagination has been my mother in a lot more ways than my mother ever has.
However, every gift comes with a an equal price: my imagination runs wild. It's natural for me. I never had younger siblings, so I spent long hours on my own. I tend to project my inner world to the outside just like people do. I literally live in there and consequently get very annoyed that I have to drag around my humble mortal body as well. However my inner world overwhelms, overruns and exceeds other people's worlds the way an ocean outweighs a spoonful. Things are so much more interesting, grotesque, humorous, violent, wonderful and versatile in my own world.
One downside of this is I often imagine what people are like and fill in the gaps with my inner
palette of feelings, colours, ideas. I give them my characteristics and
my intentions. I create them anew in my head, dressing them with characteristics they don't possess or imagining that they can't be that bad.
They can.
And now we come to you.
We don't really know each other.
I have never heard you laugh. Never seen you cry. I have not held you in my arms. Never kissed you or sniffed you (as I am so intent on doing whenever we visit each other in dreams.)
Are you sure you know me?
You see, I often think I know others but it turns out I know my fantasy of them. Not the real people. And then I get hurt. And the one thing I do not want to do is hurt you in any way.
I know things about you.
I feel things about you.
Yet the picture of you I have in my head is my creation.
Let me tell you what I think I know.
You're giving. Giving to a fault sometimes if someone gets past your defenses. You're also giving because you're not interested in material things. You're not stupid or gullible, just indifferent to the concept of possession. You like items for what they give you, not for the item per se.
You're loyal for life. Unless something changes in the relationship, you'll be the last person to leave the boat. Even if it sinks and there are sharks around it, you'll stay. You're in for the long haul.
You're extremely intelligent, both emotionally and mentally. Your mind is restless and always quick to jump from one thing to the next. If you get bored of something or someone, you'll get rid of them, even if you change your mind afterwards. But the way you have grown up has left you very little space for long-lasting regrets.
You're headstrong and volatile. If something annoys you, you won't suffer it for a second longer than you have to. And it takes you a lot of time to admit to yourself that you need to make or embrace changes, because that same characteristic that makes you headstrong is what has kept you alive and sane. Your adamant core refuses to break and also makes you respond more slowly to change. However, once you are certain that it is for good, you're one of the people that will let go immediately and jump to the next phase. From that aspect, you're one of the most kamikaze and rush forward individuals I know. You don't rush because you're foolhardy but because you're certain.
You are one of the most talented people I have come across. You have a unique sense of colour and texture and know how to combine elements in a way that is ingenious, balanced, elegant and beautiful. Your hands make music out of anything they touch, whether it's paper, colour, cloth or a musical instrument. Your 'melodies' are at the same time deep like ancient waters and delicate like lace. And I have seen you creating music with so many different items that most people view as surfaces.
You make reality sing songs of haunting beauty and feelings so intense the majority can't even suspect they exist.
You make others laugh. Your friends me tell how playful you are and I believe them. You're like a little teasing bee. I can see you sometimes, always restless, busy with something or other. You need to drop dead with exhaustion to stop.
You're beautiful. I do not refer to your good looks only. You're beautiful as a bird or an animal is beautiful. Natural and not self apologetic.
Your kindness springs from the well of pain. It is not sugar coated with ignorance but has a coppery taste instead. Like blood and water coming from the deepest core of the earth. Coming out to bless this world, reality, the whole of existence. You make flowers grow in people's hearts and gardens.
You hide under a million guises and half-spoken phrases. You hide behind cautious glances, you hide behind thoughts, silences, words, smoke screens, doubts, and the secret pleasure that it's a game played at your own time. And you're safe. If you choose the timing and the amount of information you'll disclose you're safe.
I wish, I wish, I wish I could have kept us both safe back then. I wish I could have opened a door and guided you the center of my heart, inside my secret garden. You and your brother and your two sisters. But I could not. I cannot. No matter how much I wish, no matter how much I try. Even if I knock my fists against the wall of reality till my knuckles are reduced to bloody shreds I can't. We only have today and tomorrow and the next day.
But we can build a garden together.
I promise you it will be safe. I promise that even the roses in there will have no thorns.
"I've seen things you people wouldn't believe. Attack ships on fire off the shoulder of Orion. I watched C-beams glitter in the dark near the Tannhauser gate. All those moments will be lost in time... like tears in rain... Time to die. "
Quote borrowed from the movie Bladerunner, musical inspiration by Virve.
You had to go and do it again, didn't you?
These two bits pretty much express my feelings yesterday...
Sometimes days pass in a hurry, like the fluttering wings of a bird.
Sometimes the hands of the clock get stuck and go nowhere and the day drags on like punishment.
And sometimes feeling and understanding are bridged in a single moment. The experience itself illuminates with nothing more needed. Feeling is understanding and time does not exist. Everything is one.
Books, volumes cannot express that magic speck of time. Philosophy is inane prattle compared to the alchemical moment when something -and everything- makes perfect sense.
How many such moments have you had in your life?
And why do these moments illuminate those who have lived in darkness for years, with their hearts as their only source of light?
How can music make me cry so much when so many things don’t touch me anymore?
For a moment you danced in front of my eyes, and you were just like the snowflakes you so much love. Flawless. Perfect. Celestial. Beautiful enough to make someone’s heart break.
Still waters run deep. Ancient water married to ancient fire.
How do you hide so well?
How do you hide so well? Answer me. How do you manage to hide under all those shadows and poisonous thorns when you are so white a single glimpse of you can illuminate my entire sky? The pearl hidden in the abyss. The proverbial pearl.
That the wind blows like a gale, like a curse, like a threnody.
It is time.
For me to spread my wings. Ebony black, darker than the heart of darkness.
To take flight.
To roam the skies between the blind screams of the elements.
I shall land on those rooftops that despair has proclaimed her own, and her ragged flag, invisible to all eyes but my own, is dancing to each hellish gust.
I shall enter from locked windows and darkened mirrors, unseen and unheard. I shall answer your prayers. Tonight.
Feed on you.
Feed on your hearts.
Feed on the reek of your sins.
Feed.
Tonight.
Till all that is left will be something so mutilated, so torn, that won’t pass for human remains.
Till your true nature is revealed. Rotting sacks of meat. Nothing that could be called a soul residing in you.
There.
Do you see me on the floor, wiping my mouth?
Between the dark blood, and entrails, and the broken bones sticking out from torn limbs?
Do you see my knowing smile?
Do you know my name?
No?
It is time.
To enter in places where there is no hope.
To touch the brows of those dying alone.
To kiss the cheeks of children crying even in their sleep.
I’ll wipe the blood from my lips before kissing them goodnight. I shall leave no trace.
And if I cannot save them anymore I‘ll steal them from you.
I’ll whisper in their ear.
Suicide. What a tragedy.
Surely not as bad as the so-called life they had.
And my sister, the shepherd of the lost, will pick their souls from the crossroads, and embrace them like you never did.
I’ll mix poisons in boiling cauldrons and feed them to you secretly.
I’ll feed you when you think yourselves invincible. The purest milk from my breasts.
The source of feelings becoming the source of death.
Vagina transformed into a grave.
You will pay.
By the blood from your veins you will pay.
For the blood of your children that you shed with such ease you will pay.
No-one can stop me.
No-one can make me spare you.
Tonight that the wind knows no rest, I come on wings as black as the negative of matter.
Bare like the moon.
Black like my Sun.
Because you called me back.
You raised me from the river of Lethe and named me.
You gave me my wings.
You armed my hand.
You sharpened my sword with your outrageous crimes.
No land will hide you.
No god will save you.
You are mine.
“And her name was like a blackbird, like a night bird crying out in the most desolate of all deserts; the human heart.”
