My feet lifted and then my legs then my torso. My shoulders and head stayed on the bed. I was terrified, I didnt feel afraid in the emotional sense, but I had the knowledge that I was afraid. I felt a firm, painless tugging toward the figure in the doorway. I saw my body rising upward and realized the tugging was not on my body, but was on my consciousness, my awareness. The silhouette began to release waves of deep soft blue evaporating fear and all resistance; I knew immediately who she was. My consciousness slid down my skull, out my nose - plopping onto my chest. It continued down my stomach, juked my cock and crawled down my leg toward her.
Grass grew up and over me, sheet rock turned to a sunless sky. Golden ambient light filled this squintless, shadowless new world; drawing deep somber green from the reeds. I stood. She was unimaginably beautiful. Her skin glowed softly, her eyes were humongous, any larger and they would have been freakish. Her irises were ever-changing, cycling through the color spectrum. I shook in her presence, overwhelmed by her beauty. I desperately wished shed manifest herself on my cock, rather than in dreams.
It has been a long time, Ive missed you dearly. My voice trembled. Have you brought me news from the Antipodes?
She looked at me; her head tilted dramatically to its side, and then repositioned itself in the more traditional positionwhere one would expect to see a head. She moistened her lips, with her pussy pink tongue. She blew me a string of symbols, their intricate delicate shapes emanated what can only be described as incandescent light. I had never seen such colors, nothing like it in any way. No way to describe no way to explain. The symbols hovered over to about four feet in front of me, at about the height of my stomach. Each individual symbol began its own slow gyroscopic motion, while collectively forming a ring, which orbited some imagined sun.
I knelt down; fascinated, enraptured, I began to slowly circle the ring of symbols. I was confused; I was uncertain what to do with these symbols, if anything at all! I had the sudden impulse to touch my tongue against one. I tasted all of their shapes, so delicate and fragile. Their intricacy was a wonderful sensation of awe and a nectar-like sweetness. I began to lightly, considerately grope the symbols, I followed them as I fondled, so as not to disturb their orbit. I felt their flavors, so smooth and polished as to give the illusion of softness.
Contemplating this curiosity, I removed my grasp from these floating forms and set back in the grass. Reason, suddenly and violently leaped from me. It formed a black box around the symbol system so as to study this queer phenomenon in a controlled environment. For only a moment or two, I felt disconnected from the symbols. The black box had shut out all somatic sensation. Just as I was beginning to miss them the black box turned transparent. I noticed I could feel their warmth and hear their song, as intense and intricate as their shapes. In an odd way, the box began to look very silly to me and I laughed. My emotions shot from my chest. Frantically, manically they pinballed around inside the box like electrons, they disappeared and reappeared. They were everywhere inside the box and nowhere all at once. They burned intense and bright and then hung gray and lifeless as ash. I sat in the grass witnessing, lovingly attentive to this flighty, whimsical awareness.
Grass grew up and over me, sheet rock turned to a sunless sky. Golden ambient light filled this squintless, shadowless new world; drawing deep somber green from the reeds. I stood. She was unimaginably beautiful. Her skin glowed softly, her eyes were humongous, any larger and they would have been freakish. Her irises were ever-changing, cycling through the color spectrum. I shook in her presence, overwhelmed by her beauty. I desperately wished shed manifest herself on my cock, rather than in dreams.
It has been a long time, Ive missed you dearly. My voice trembled. Have you brought me news from the Antipodes?
She looked at me; her head tilted dramatically to its side, and then repositioned itself in the more traditional positionwhere one would expect to see a head. She moistened her lips, with her pussy pink tongue. She blew me a string of symbols, their intricate delicate shapes emanated what can only be described as incandescent light. I had never seen such colors, nothing like it in any way. No way to describe no way to explain. The symbols hovered over to about four feet in front of me, at about the height of my stomach. Each individual symbol began its own slow gyroscopic motion, while collectively forming a ring, which orbited some imagined sun.
I knelt down; fascinated, enraptured, I began to slowly circle the ring of symbols. I was confused; I was uncertain what to do with these symbols, if anything at all! I had the sudden impulse to touch my tongue against one. I tasted all of their shapes, so delicate and fragile. Their intricacy was a wonderful sensation of awe and a nectar-like sweetness. I began to lightly, considerately grope the symbols, I followed them as I fondled, so as not to disturb their orbit. I felt their flavors, so smooth and polished as to give the illusion of softness.
Contemplating this curiosity, I removed my grasp from these floating forms and set back in the grass. Reason, suddenly and violently leaped from me. It formed a black box around the symbol system so as to study this queer phenomenon in a controlled environment. For only a moment or two, I felt disconnected from the symbols. The black box had shut out all somatic sensation. Just as I was beginning to miss them the black box turned transparent. I noticed I could feel their warmth and hear their song, as intense and intricate as their shapes. In an odd way, the box began to look very silly to me and I laughed. My emotions shot from my chest. Frantically, manically they pinballed around inside the box like electrons, they disappeared and reappeared. They were everywhere inside the box and nowhere all at once. They burned intense and bright and then hung gray and lifeless as ash. I sat in the grass witnessing, lovingly attentive to this flighty, whimsical awareness.
a big fan of Neitzsche I see. Good reading.