Those who creep through keyholes and open doors that should remain closedawaken the most primordial of emotions and fearsI slept, cold and alonei was startled awake from an ominous voice in my dream.the voice was from a proud man that raved on and on about the secrets the moon had told himsecrets that shouldnt have been shared. Maybe it was the spiritual surgery they preformed..maybe she was tired of just hanging aroundbut she told the proud man the secrets of old..forgotten thingsbut how could u expect her not to spill her secrets like the clouds spill rainshe is but a child of the night.
He tried to bestow upon me these surreptitious rites..but I wanted no parti knew somehow that I shouldnt hear these thingsa raging man spewing words violently from his mouth, yet no sound was emittedi half believed Id fallen deaf.until I heard the birds in the trees nearby..the proud man continued on..his face growing as red as the early morning bloom of a roseI was sure he would pass out soonyet he kept on.i was standing but a yard or two away from him. Certainly unsure of getting any closer..what if he found his voice and could share his ill secrets.? Pushing caution aside..i stepped towards him. He was breathing hard.his chest cavity growing and shrinking in an excited manner.i noticed a bead of sweat just above his overly bushy eyebrow.i could almost see inside the the teardrop shape.i thought I saw the face of an angel trapped inside, but dismissed the notion.
Suddenly the birds stopped..but I could still hear wind..i was pulled to the left where I saw the gates of horn and ivory.and quickly looked away.its just a story I saidand my voice carried away on the windbut as time passed I could still hear myself mumbling.its just a story..
Without warning the proud man rushed meknocking me to the ground.it was hard and cold. It felt like glass but looked like the young skin of a newborn child..a burning pain stung my ribs.the proud man was kicking me. Im almost sure his unprovoked attacks were from my unwillingness to allow him a voice.he had to know that it was my dream.my world.and I couldnt allow him to tell me the secrets of old..what would happen if I did? I struggled to my feet to avoid another blunt kick and pleaded with him to cease.but he wouldnt listen.he just kept coming from all directions.it reminded me off a torrential downpour.no escapeI tasted metal and felt a sharp pain as his attack continued..there was the most sickening sound as my ribs began to break under the stress of this mans fury..three loud cracks and I could no longer breathe as deeply as I had a few moments ago.with every breath, the agonizing pain made my entire being lash out in a fiery red haze.as I stared up at him the scenery shimmered and waved the way it does when u look through fumes.and I began to feel a strength well up in my body..the pain dissipated.i felt like fire.all consumingall destroying.the realization that I was in control flooded my head..breathing came easier until it was finally effortless. The proud man saw this realization come over me and began screaming again.still no sound.ive yet to give him his voice.
these things are not meant for me I said.but he would have none of it.still struggling for words..he gazed at me with a hatred Ive never seen before.not in the eyes of soldier after losing his best friend to the enemy.not in the eyes of a serial killer just before indulging his blood lust.nothing Ive ever witnessed could match the containment of such hatred..i could almost feel the dark heat emanating from his stare..i was at a loss for what action to take. I stood there for what felt like an eternity locked in the proud mans gaze..he never blinked..he didnt move.i could hear the ticking of a grandfather clock in the distance..the seconds seemed endless.and fear was gripping me ever so tightly..i felt like I was losing control.this is your head, this is your dream I silently thought to myself.i tried to appear stern and unmovable.i remembered a mantra I read some time ago and spoke it to myself. I must not fear. Fear is the mind-killer. Fear is the little death that brings total obliteration. I will face my fear. I will permit it to pass over me and through me. And when it has gone past, I will turn the inner eye to see it's path. Where the fear has gone there will be nothing. Only I will remain. As I finished the mantra..i felt refreshed and void of that which caused my fearthe proud man now looked sullen.full of grief.this was his point of realization that even though he possessed the knowledge of forgotten things..he would never share themthey were his and he would be the sole bearer of these things....
He tried to bestow upon me these surreptitious rites..but I wanted no parti knew somehow that I shouldnt hear these thingsa raging man spewing words violently from his mouth, yet no sound was emittedi half believed Id fallen deaf.until I heard the birds in the trees nearby..the proud man continued on..his face growing as red as the early morning bloom of a roseI was sure he would pass out soonyet he kept on.i was standing but a yard or two away from him. Certainly unsure of getting any closer..what if he found his voice and could share his ill secrets.? Pushing caution aside..i stepped towards him. He was breathing hard.his chest cavity growing and shrinking in an excited manner.i noticed a bead of sweat just above his overly bushy eyebrow.i could almost see inside the the teardrop shape.i thought I saw the face of an angel trapped inside, but dismissed the notion.
Suddenly the birds stopped..but I could still hear wind..i was pulled to the left where I saw the gates of horn and ivory.and quickly looked away.its just a story I saidand my voice carried away on the windbut as time passed I could still hear myself mumbling.its just a story..
Without warning the proud man rushed meknocking me to the ground.it was hard and cold. It felt like glass but looked like the young skin of a newborn child..a burning pain stung my ribs.the proud man was kicking me. Im almost sure his unprovoked attacks were from my unwillingness to allow him a voice.he had to know that it was my dream.my world.and I couldnt allow him to tell me the secrets of old..what would happen if I did? I struggled to my feet to avoid another blunt kick and pleaded with him to cease.but he wouldnt listen.he just kept coming from all directions.it reminded me off a torrential downpour.no escapeI tasted metal and felt a sharp pain as his attack continued..there was the most sickening sound as my ribs began to break under the stress of this mans fury..three loud cracks and I could no longer breathe as deeply as I had a few moments ago.with every breath, the agonizing pain made my entire being lash out in a fiery red haze.as I stared up at him the scenery shimmered and waved the way it does when u look through fumes.and I began to feel a strength well up in my body..the pain dissipated.i felt like fire.all consumingall destroying.the realization that I was in control flooded my head..breathing came easier until it was finally effortless. The proud man saw this realization come over me and began screaming again.still no sound.ive yet to give him his voice.
these things are not meant for me I said.but he would have none of it.still struggling for words..he gazed at me with a hatred Ive never seen before.not in the eyes of soldier after losing his best friend to the enemy.not in the eyes of a serial killer just before indulging his blood lust.nothing Ive ever witnessed could match the containment of such hatred..i could almost feel the dark heat emanating from his stare..i was at a loss for what action to take. I stood there for what felt like an eternity locked in the proud mans gaze..he never blinked..he didnt move.i could hear the ticking of a grandfather clock in the distance..the seconds seemed endless.and fear was gripping me ever so tightly..i felt like I was losing control.this is your head, this is your dream I silently thought to myself.i tried to appear stern and unmovable.i remembered a mantra I read some time ago and spoke it to myself. I must not fear. Fear is the mind-killer. Fear is the little death that brings total obliteration. I will face my fear. I will permit it to pass over me and through me. And when it has gone past, I will turn the inner eye to see it's path. Where the fear has gone there will be nothing. Only I will remain. As I finished the mantra..i felt refreshed and void of that which caused my fearthe proud man now looked sullen.full of grief.this was his point of realization that even though he possessed the knowledge of forgotten things..he would never share themthey were his and he would be the sole bearer of these things....
frankalina:
you need to tell me a story everynite ~ loved that
hael:
Happy new year fucker i miss and love you