South of Sin.

dallasclayton:

LIFE INSTRUCTIONS

Child 1: This game doesn’t have directions.

Child 2: So?

Child 1: So how do you know if you are playing it right?

Child 2: It’s fun. When a game is fun you’re playing it right.

            Incessantly I heard the magical yet completely irritating sound of the leak from my bathroom sink. There used to be a glass window between the bedroom and the loo that used to subdue the sound to a bearable co-efficient. The window is long-gone now.

All that remains of it now are the broken shards of glass that lie above my cupboard. I wonder why this is making me feel uncomfortable all of a sudden. Why is it that even though I have lived in this environment for some time now it’s very being plagues my thoughts now. She is gone and I refuse to believe it.

There was a time when I was happy; a few hours ago if you want the specifics. Life was bright; a vivid cornucopia of colors, it was harmonious, an accelerating cacophony of cheesy love songs, it was enlightening, a silent conundrum of meditative brilliance.

All this: in a primeval, yet holistic way was exchanged by us through the mixing of our saliva when we kissed, the way her tongue gently peeked in to my mouth before darting back in to its cave and my tongue feeling up to the challenge and softly treading along the tiny bumps on her lips looking for the mate that would make this cycle of pleasure complete.

Drip. Drip. Drip. The emotions all come crashing down on me again as the leak flushes out these highly romanticized thoughts away from my mind. I think I know what it would feel like to land on the sidewalk if I decided to jump off my 18^th story ledge. That makes me smile. The little spark of positivity that is the smile teleports me through the hours without her to the hours in which we were together and I begin to get lost in the bottomless world of Memory.

The Chinese say that our power comes from our qi. That store of spiritual energy at our mind and hearts core. It is the original fire starter. I believe that the spark from the qi is what makes new born babies cry; but I digress. She saw it. She felt it. We shared it. There weren’t 2 beings, just a synergy of qi that gave us a sum greater than either of us had imagined, and I know that it surprised her, too. We entered each other through the eyes. Those eyes. The led me down a passage where there were no hidden doors, no hidden dungeons of hate and jealousy, just large expanses of puritan settlements of thoughts that had somehow returned unpolluted in the craziness of both our lives. But she took a journey, too, bravely, courageously down my dim lit alleys, cobbled streets with imposing gothic monuments, a place where gargoyles were the thought police and people with diseased skin were to be found in the dark corners. And I kept asking her to turn back but she held my hand and guided me through it all, I think she was able to give my darkness a conscience, to an extent that it would be afraid to touch her.. .. BLINDING LIGHT.

I had seen this before; in her. We had reached her brilliance and at once I felt safe, but her eyes were staring back at me, inquiringly, questioningly and I followed lead and questioned and was at once shocked and thrilled, loved and hated. I felt the tear in my being. I saw the duality and then I saw where I was. I was in the world of My Innocence. Something I had long forgotten. Something you forget to see as an adult. She led me straight to it, like she knew where to find it.