(no subject)

[synapticjava]

I dreamt. Not an unusual occurrence, I’m sure. But it was different this time. This was the one. This was what I’ve been building up to for so long. This was my heaven. Never before have my dreaming hours offered more to me than my waking. How I long to return. To close my eyes and be transformed to this place. For surely it is I that change, not my surroundings.

In my wondrous imagination, I know peace. I know hope. But I need not these props. It is secure here. And throughout, I know love. I have love. I open my hand and it sits in my open palm. Dripping softness and fury like honey and vinegar. Because no love has ever existed without its darkness. Yet here in this landscape of unfamiliar towers and valleys, I know no bitterness. I know not the fears that cripple me. I know not the doubts that blind me from what might once have been. I cannot even fathom the pain that I have trudged through for so very long. Here I am complete. I am whole and know myself to be true. I can taste every breath of life and I tremble with its very power. I can forgive myself every unshed tear. I can slice away the many layers of my own shell. I can lose myself completely because I am never truly lost. Only hidden. I am my own treasure and in this place I am the seeker of this grail, and I conquer all.

Yet as always before, I must return. And it is as if these wounds have been shred again. The pain is unbearable and I must hide myself again. Naked without these crutches. And so it is as with anything else I hold dear; I must push this away. I must not acknowledge it. I must press against it with my very flesh, while behind these layers I scream and claw at myself to allow myself to embrace it, as everything else. I must not let it penetrate me. I must retreat to these old magicians simple tricks. For simple is always least conspicuous. And always easier to hide from myself.