I find you in the finest of spirits.
The finest of earth-made spirits is floating around the room. You claim you do not yet know but it is all predetermined and deep down you know much better than you are letting on. That is why you cannot stop smiling.
When did this happen? Was it surprising? Was it beautiful? That question hardly needs to be asked. There was a symphony and later on everyone was lighting candles. Sinful feelings come out but they do not last long. This is a good and unexpected thing and shows genuine growth. Underneath there is sadness but sadness is not a sin.
They were quiet at first and everything somehow felt new again. They were their original selves. I am having false memories but they are wonderful. I am an observer and a participant. I see this truth unfold and I grow with it and experience every moment for the first time. They are in the rain and her shirt is wet and he can see the color of her skin through the sleeves. There is water in her hair and she is smiling.
There is hot coffee later on but before that is a chance encounter whose charms have never relented. They embrace with genuine feeling and the end result is predictable only to one. It is so delightful to see happiness.
What color are they? I will never have the answer to that question but it seems more appropriate that way. These neon lights keep swirling and passing us bye. They are quite magical in a sense.
Does she know that when they hug it is by far the greatest thing he has ever felt? A flash of jealousy again; ugly and mean. What does he have to do to…? But this time he is able to take hold of it and strangle it and stab its corpse. There is nothing beautiful down the path he was taking.
At the same time there is a traveler on a journey imparting wisdom of sorts. And we find that grace is always available to us regardless. We can be taken back. Sometimes he imagines himself being hanged and his body eventually crashing to the ground where his stomach explodes and his putrid insides spill everywhere. This is a horrid dream. Even he can be taken back.
But despite this vision, everything is happy here. He accomplished what he wished. He was never recording music but only water. The number was actually around 10,000 (probably a bit more) and this was the price begging to be paid. So many strange and wonderful symbols were manipulated to come to this point. Fantasies dance with new life of strangulation and mocking and sweet caresses and tender words. Purification has rather appropriately not erased this. Even this morning there was another, new and glorious. I think we are in a cage.
This never dies. It is always born again. But perhaps it is born into something kinder and something more pure. What is the best thing one can do for another? We are always going to be surrounded by people wearing masks. When you look at me you tell me how tired my eyes seem. He will wish for that song to never end and already there is a new plane of existence forming where his wish will be granted.
Don’t address me that way please, not me. I have thought about this too. Haven’t you noticed just the slightest touch? The way language consistently fails us is something worth noting. There is sweetness to this. I have opened myself up, just a bit, but more than with almost anyone else. Things do not always become gift wrapped. But this will never be too far from my thoughts.
I don’t think you knew of anything that was happening and it is very possible you have no desire to know. It is easy to conclude this as the most appropriate outcome. The only thing could happen really. And now luck is no longer on his side, it stays with her. That is a sweet and dizzying failure. Things are now so deliciously full. He can watch her riding off and dancing from various spiritual planes, coming into contact with ancient and mystical forces before reverting back to this human form. Black and blue are the colors inside his eyes.
Those words he said and the sentiments he expressed were refreshingly true. And he is quite aware he owes that newfound genuineness to someone other than and infinitely greater than himself. Thank You so very much. His mind is so limited. It would be lovely to retrace her steps and to absorb every word she already used up, to add those texts to the ones already lining the shelves and know they would always be there.
I suspect it is too late to be reborn. He watches her having a unique vision and making contact with someone who once birthed the universe. Is everyone becoming one at this very moment?
There was trial and error like always. There was the desire to come in out of the rain and the need to satisfy more than one bad impulse. And then it was impossible to leave. His thoughts were invaded and he was changed and things could never go back to the way they were. But he is spent now. His fingers are broken and his insides damaged and he can no longer think about fields of oranges or blood flowing like wine.
But yes, they were real. And that touch was real and now forever part of this time stream. Maybe there is a place things can go on from there and the story continues and ends up beautiful for everyone. Everyone is allowed to be happy in that one and there is not so much grey covering everything. But this is quite enough for now.
Leave no doubts. When he said he was happy for you. He felt it. That made everything better.
New year, new life.
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