Neverland

I felt heaven in her heartbeat as I laid my head against her chest, racing on a higher plane than it should have been. She was on fire. She was burning alive in the most tragically beautiful way one could imagine. As she did her mating dance, embers rushed off the ends of her auburn hair. She began to whisper of this reoccurring dream where she could make time stop. She had a button that she pressed, and everybody froze around her. She gazed at their statuesque nature. A penumbra skewed my gaze of her as she glided through this unearthly scene, so I cocked my head to the side. She kept dancing, chaotically so. Why was she dancing? She heard my thoughts, and she looked straight though me. Telepathically she asked me, can you not hear the music? I responded. She began to levitate and circle around me until she came to a halt behind me. She hovered over me and covered my eyes. "Can you see?" I laughed. "No, I cannot see." She emerged in front of me and sat down on my lap, covering my ears. "Can you hear me?" I began to grow tired of her senseless game. But there was something in the way the sun was kissing her face. Something I knew that I would never get over. She reached into her clutch and grabbed a small diamond and string. "I will be back in one moment." She retreated into her hiding place. We lived in homes made of tree branches and leaves at a high altitude. What music? She must be insane. There was only silence. Alongside my inner dialogue. She resurfaced. She got close to my face and scanned me. No, memorized me. She sat back on my lap. She draped her creation on top of my head, the diamond resting on the middle of my forehead. She covered my eyes. Only darkness. She stood, granting me vision. It began to flood my system. I was in a trance. The most divine music permeated my world. She spun on a continuum so that her field of vision was panoramic. She held her hands up like a frame, as if each millisecond that she moved was its own individual occurrence. World, stop, she thought. The wind stopped caressing the trees. The clouds froze. My eyes found her and questioned why they ever left. "Your foundation." I noted, pointing at her skin. "It's breaking." She looked at me with life infused eyes. "I know." She shattered. I began to put her back together in all the right order. 

Everything was panoramic. The pain, the happiness, the memories. A light would shine on my heart from every possible angle. And it felt like heaven. It felt like pure light to be in one piece. To look in the mirror and feel like enough. To have the external world reflect that energy towards me. Because only God can judge me. Only God can see the subconscious torture and know why the grand scheme of things left me tainted and haunted. And I didn’t regret a thing. I didn’t regret all of the times that I should have been smarter because everything is relative. How could I have known then what I know now? I am my own hero. I see myself and I see a vision of exotic ecstasy. When nobody else understood me, I validated myself. Through the crying in cafeteria bathrooms and writing poetry in high school because I had no friends. Through the seeking home somewhere. Seeking love somewhere. Seeking my destiny. And my feelings are like clockwork. Does that make them any more or less valid? Thoughts don’t accompany them the way they used to. But tears do. And I don’t even know why I’m crying anymore. Or maybe why I’m not crying. What reason in the world do I have not to cry? But with pain comes pleasure. I know now that it’s probably a result of my poor self care habits. I think I must have my whole operating system unconsciously making random decisions for me. Which makes me human. Feeling emotions on a spectrum this way is becoming my new normal. But regulating my emotions and understanding the source of my ailments has allowed a metamorphosis process to begin to unfold. And after the dark, the light comes. And God, is it incredible. I see undying metaphors. Gilded butterflies. What was real? What was her imagination? Life imitated art in the way that you would die for. She felt very close to her heartbeat. She felt alive. She realized how rare that was. That alone was a tragedy. And a sparkle gleamed in eyes that did not deserve to be there. The world did not deaden her stare. She was a child at heart, genuinely. It was the happiest, scariest most contradictory life one could imagine. A walking oxymoron. She drew her sword toward everybody. On guard! But tickles made her melt. And when she melted everything felt so divine and the pain made sense. For a few minutes. When she melted she gave her whole heart. Her pure spirit. She felt it in the air, in the ground, in the trees. Conduits. Opulence became her. There were certain fears that scared her straight. Maybe that was what was saving her. Making her walk around just so. And if the shoe fits, wear it.

... gently down the stream. Merrily, merrily, merrily, merrily. Life is but a dream. Mirror mirror on the wall... who is the fairest of them all? Do the thoughts stop? They stopped for me today. I don’t know what constructed ball of energy I can put that in. Subspace? Heaven? Now I am feeling the equal and opposite reaction. I am guessing that is what I deserve. What goes up must come down. And I’ve made a home in the gutters and the clouds. I have an inclination I’ll be spending a significant amount of time in each with the concept of duality and all. Yin and yang. Breathe easy. Watch a good movie and cuddle with teddy. The light will come and you will feel the ecstasy again. Here is a bedtime story. One evening an old Cherokee told his grandson about a battle that goes on inside people. He said, "My son, the battle is between two "wolves" inside us all. One is Evil. It is anger, envy, jealousy, sorrow, regret, greed, arrogance, self-pity, guilt, resentment, inferiority, lies, false pride, superiority, and ego. The other is good. It is joy, peace, love, hope, serenity, humility, kindness, benevolence, empathy, generosity, truth, compassion and faith." The grandson thought about it for a minute and then asked his grandfather: "Which wolf wins?" The old Cherokee simply replied, "The one you feed."

God did not want humans to fly so he made submissives. You fly in this ineffable way, with your state of mind. When the pain and thoughts get so bad, but then you get catapulted into subspace and you feel all warm and fuzzy inside. You are not your emotions, my love. Detatch yourself, please. You are not a "happy" being you are not a "sad" being, you are a spectrum. Notice the pattern and be your autentic self. Listen to the pain, the light is always moments away. Raise your vibrational frequency. You do not have conform to society. You are an angel with wings that need to be repaired when you go too fast or reach an altitude too high for you. You are valid in everything that you feel and Dominants are a Godsend. And the relationship between a dominant and a submissive is nothing short of magical. So be an effervescent mermaid scaling the bottom of the sea floor waiting for the boat of your lover. And when you are a bird soaring through the clouds, do not apoligize for your ascension. Become it. You are giving your dominant the most potent gift. Pure love and vulnerabilty. And it frees you, doesn't it? Also, I currently do not have many friends at all. If you ever need somebody to talk to, I am here to actively listen to understand anything that you might be going through. Sometimes it helps to not be alone with what you feel as a submissive. Sending love.

The light shone down on you creating a prism effect on your face, piercing through the veil. The color spectrum danced around your face, never once distracting me from your beauty. And all that I could think was, "How did I get so lucky? How did I find my hero?". You could turn a tragedy into a comedy. You are the arraignment of stars in my otherwise pitch-black galaxy. You are my ikigai, or reason for being. In that moment I knew that nothing would ever compare, and that scared me. An angel that cascaded from heaven to alleviate the broken things. You collided with my universe in this surreal kind of way. I felt like I was dreaming. It made my heart implode into a million fragmented pieces. And then you picked up all the shards and kissed each individual crevice and layer. You love all of the broken pieces of my soul. The pieces that I do not even love. How brave is that? To capture my soul, and to call it home. I love this so much it perplexes me. This exists? How ethereal. My perfect mirror, and God do you radiate. It was not her vessel, it was the light inside. It was dizzying, in the best kind of way. The world spins and is overly saturated when you are around. My miracle.

It saddened her the way she got ignored. The kind of sad that she had learned to just stuff down into the deepest chamber of her heart. The universe inside of her screamed. The galaxies and constellations and black holes. She stopped blaming herself which was half of the battle. She had to love herself. But she craved the man who understood her train of thought. Who got her pattern. Who encapsulated her strong emotions and nurtured every word that ran across her lips. But she didn’t need completing, only a universe to collide and implode with. Somebody who could bring her soul to life and appreciate her saturated view. Because in her world, everything was by design. Her life was her art, her mind was her paradise. It had to be. The alternatives were disenchanting.

Rainbows are circular. She was a lot like a rainbow. Half of her was. Missing? Or hidden. She became a mystery. There was sadness in that. She didn’t seek to be understood, but to understand herself and express that through a version of art that spoke for her. She didn’t mind losing herself because she knew what it was to feel complete within herself. She knew she had the capacity to do that. She chased that feeling but not desperately. Deliberately. Serving was her purpose but not in the traditional sense of the word. She existed to add value to the lives of others. Every person along her path. Her wounds showed but wounds heal. Healing mended her inner workings.