Entry 32 - Rain on A Desert Planet and Other Points of Swarming Light

Blackness. A deep, inky well, so dark it seems to have become its own substance, thick and solid. Falling. Feather-soft weightlessness drawing down, down, molding, shaping, winding through that darkness like a ball in a sphere-dancer’s fingers. So slow. Heartbeat steady and calm with no fear only the endless motion down and down and down.

Shining light-pure and cold- radiates from every pore and every breath. It’s ice. My ice illuminated badum badum one heartbeat at a time. Pulsing with the contractions that bend the darkness away and then bring it close.

Water, water cradling

Water lifting

Water supporting that pulse. But black. No form, only comforting darkness. Each touch a caress of its liquid nature. It flows into me, lifting fingers one by one, sliding through mahogany dark hair, the kind with just enough red into it to remind you of wood on fire.

Shimmering over skin with tiny whorls of moon-slick touch, falling forever in that private shadow.

I had a dream about smoke. I was searching for something in a fog/smoke and had found it, but I was cut off from all the others I was with. I think one of them was R. I could hear X’s voice, but I couldn’t find them. My whole focus was on picking up the thing I had been looking for. It’s amazing how the meaning of something can be lost so easily when you attempt to share it with others. There are no words to describe feelings that go so deep. There are no names that can be given to these things in my nature. I love X because X can hear what I can’t say. X can understand what I can only show. Like with dance, as soon as you attempt to share something of yourself with an audience, the audience now has the power to control what you’ve given them. It’s not yours anymore. It’s their perception of you, what you offer that becomes reality. And that’s why I dislike sharing my feelings. That’s why I feel dishonest giving back what has been given to me. As soon as it leaves your heart, it is no longer something precious belonging to you and God. It can be tarnished, abused, or misunderstood. It is no longer perfect and pure.

X. I miss you. Where are you? Everything is changing now. I’m leaving and everything in me is looking ward the future. Toward the culmination of four years of work…I don’t feel like I’m here anymore. And you? You’re just gone. Where did you go? Why did you have to leave me so soon? Why don’t you love me anymore?