I once invoked pain to someone.
Now, when I mean by “invoking“ pain, I don’t mean by that petty-oh-I-just-hurt-you-physically type of pain. No, this type of pain was different. Different because NOTHING happened-but yet- I CALL it pain. I was strolling down the Galleria mall downtown when I noticed something very peculiar. A stray black, scruffy dog was roaming ‘round the intersection (to the right) near the Macy’s and passing between JcPenny and Bath and Body works.
Of course, this isn’t one of those cliche moments where I, the main character, can literally hear the freaking thoughts of a mere dog and say that it was fucking legit! I am a dog whisperer! No.
It was so much more: than that.
The dog continued to roam around the mall, and I continued to tail it’s tail (uh) behind it without anyone (anyone!) finding this either strange no peculiar.
What ended up to be a clash between dimensions unfolded before ME.
Me whom (like a cat) was super-darn curious. So curious as to call myself a legitimate stalker of random-stray-dogs that I still (being a narcissist) don’t call myself “weird”. Rather, I call myself an amateur adventurist. So! Alas, as the time sped its way down (down, as in passing down on me, weighing down on me), I quickly began to realize something. Huh? Where was I?
People no longer roamed the mall.
In fact, there was no such mall.
The room was a cramped closet. A closet stuffed with random stuff: stuff that ranged from old textbooks to fine jewelry. ( In fact, if I was really up for it, I‘s would‘ve stole some of them jewelry to sell to the local pawn shop) There were three wooden brooms. Broom one had a red-painted handle with a checkered ribbon. Broom two had thick, bushy bristles at its edges. And, broom three was covered in dust. A hell lot of dust.
But where did the dog go? And, why DID it lead me here?
Lead me to a place that was more of a recreational closet rather than a room. But....
My eye caught to the small door on the left of the bookshelf holding the stuff (random stuff, like I said) in the center.
ENTER NOW. This was what was painted in black charcoal on the outside of the small, wooden door. And, because I didn’t think twice, I did as it said.
Laying on top of a fresh patch of red-chalky-dirt was what ended up happening to me. Happening as I started to break into a cold, sudden sweat. Sweat dripped down the side of my cheek. Licking off the sweat off the side of my lip, the salty aftertaste cling to me. Clung like how my t-shirt was clung to me, suddenly drenched in sweat too. Other than the patch of dirt I was laying on, there was nothing but bright, booming blips of light that shattered across the sky.
Was there even such a sky?
I really have NO-Idea.
No idea how, all of my greatest desires, fears, emotions and sadness feels numb. Numb like some imaginary person stuck an ice cube into my brain eliminating all emotion, and storing all logic.... For later?
Later was no more here. Here, I have found an oasis of calm, and oasis where all I have to do is close my eyes: and float. Floating helps me to realize what I’ve hated and what I’ve wanted gone.
And make it dis-Appear.
Remember why they chose me. The invisible, invincible, imaginary spirits calmed me. They made me forget the reasons. How the #1 reason, (my priority) for even being here and choosing to choose this-even just for a moment- helps me. Helps me realize that I am neither boy nor girl. Neither white nor black. Neither straight or gay. I’m just....
This oasis of good hopes is a refuge that I‘ve come to. From that incident with the dog that led me here, I realize that the reason why I’m able to enter that door, see the dog, and able to walk miles and miles into nowhere: makes me realize that I’m just:
A spirit too.
In fact, this world I’ve discovered, the oasis of calm, was the reason why I stopped.
Stoped trying to be someone I’m not. Someone whom is forced to go on dates and ruin parties. (Because I’m as they call it, a party-pooper) Someone whom had a name and now is called A-692 by the spirits.
“ There was a story about the oasis spirits. These spirits are kind of like sirens to the mind. They lure people (usually young women) to their death by showing them the pathway to the oasis. And, when they enter such a wonderful place, these spirits soon make them believe that this is their true reality. The reality where they sustain all nothingness and forget their memories and emotions. These women who are lured are invited to lay on a patch of dirt. And this dirt soon sinks, like quicksand. And they die a slow happy death.”
This was the story of the imaginary beyond reality. A story in which a secret passageway can lead.... To an ultimate death.
How I wished I understood!
This is how you invoke pain to someone.
As the rest of my life as a spirit rolls past me in the motions, I remember the reasons why I was lured:
- I was unhappy: Instead of submitting to others‘ will and desires, I wanted someone who’d understand my yearn for authentic relationships. Why? Because of fake people who’ve betrayed me.
- Deep inside, I did not love myself: in fact, i hated myself about 90% of the time during suppertime. Especially supper time. (Because I always debated -in my mind-as to whether or which I should eat or not. I mean by saying that eating results in living. And not eating... Well, it resulted in dying)
- My past livers are unrequited: in fact, they didn’t even know I existed. In life and in general.
Sure, these were petty reasons for my luring-as-a-spirit. And, sometime today...
“ Are you coming?”
“Are you coming?”
“ARE YOU COMING?!”
Who is calling me?
And, within the light, I see someone.
And I’m back at the mall intersection.
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