Sunday 16 November 2014

The Girl In the Clouds



It seems that I have been born this way for I can not remember anything else, with hands bound behind my back, afloat in a land to which I see no beginning from end. It is the only one I have ever known, my home in the clouds.

Alone, in the blinding blue of the horizon, with my neck curled over my concave chest, knees hugged close to my body, hands restrained and wings unleashed so fully and yet so idle, a binding oath to a sky I never signed up to be a part of, that's where you can find me.

The cloud is an endless mist, whenever my eyes rise to meet it I feel like I am losing my sight ever so slowly, for whenever any color tries to fight its way through the dense particles, it dissipates, getting strung along the distance until it reaches my eyes a diluted weaker version of itself. I wonder what it’s like to experience those waves of magic in their full strength, but, I’m merely a creature of gray who’s in love with the hues.

Sometimes, I battle the mist with my nose, try to dive down as far as the cloud would allow me, to get a clearer vision of the desert beneath me. I long for nothing more than the dirt, to bathe in the brown of the mountains and the beige of the dunes, to sneeze out the earth from my nostrils and then delve into even deeper realms, in a crystal sea under a clear morning sky, I imagine it would not spare a current or a wave to caress every layer of my onion heart.

However, I still live in a cage of white, a curse so desirable by so many, I've heard them in their sleep, in their dreams of flight and freedom. All they can perceive is the vertical horizon, they do not know, that the horizon they wish for, while wide, is too wide to sustain the truth.

So I spin, around and around, curled in this fetal position without hope for deliverance, cycle after the next, hello, farewell, then hello again. I turn and fold over myself in the air until the movement makes me so dizzy that all my consciousness starts to beam out of me. Promises seeping one by one, and dream after another leaves my body as I try to hold on to the most basic of human needs, the need for a peaceful calm, a stillness that allows for a foundation to build from.

But in this land, I’m a drifter without direction. The wind decides all.

The sun rises, I can see a hint of purple coming from the darkness, it sets and I can see a faint string of orange that thins into perfect black, nothing passes through except the extraordinarily strong light, and even that dies under the feet of my cage, but not without seducing my mind with possibilities first. What will happen if I could control my own wings, I wonder.

I try to summon my knowledge, my faith and all my might, hoping that it would be powerful enough to redeem me, but the horizon is too spacious and cruel enough to scatter all what keeps me alive over the distance. 

Hope is a form of vanity that girls like me simply can not afford. It’s sinful to wish for the wind to alter its will for you, the wind always stirs forward and upward, it whirls once or twice commanded by its own whims and at its own time, so why would it change direction for me? Why would it suddenly dart downward with me leeching its back?

It can not be. This cloud will be my grave. There can be nothing akin to freedom when Will becomes a force barely strong enough to tease, but never to induce action. Without a plan to carry on, or a scheme grounded in intellect, my dreams are merely delusions. 

If there is indeed a higher power, then he is doing a great job at dancing on the sinews of my heart. For whenever I do my very best to descend an inch from the dreamless cave of smoke, with a flick of his masterful finger he sends another storm my way to send me twirling around anew, to trap me in another cloud for maybe a century or two. To what purpose does he keep me, I can not understand. 

I bet, from the ground, that I would look like some kind of celestial being, a winged phoenix that appears on clearer days or an angel envied for how far away from the roots of the earth she is. Little do they know, that the roots of the earth is what I yearn for, for years and years without a bit of rest.

If only they knew how I wait so eagerly for a bird that could soar high enough to be within the reaches of my voice, or close enough so that I might gaze upon their complete and capable form and beg them to teach me how to control my wings, “I want to be an acrobat on the invisible ropes of sunshine, like you are.” I would say.

I would love nothing more that to dance and play on the specks of dust, like a bird on its landing, I would carry the seeds of the earth in my soles and between my lips then take off once more, so that it might dig new roots somewhere into the earth. 

Needless to say, the birds never do so much as to offer me a single glance.

Monday 17 March 2014

The Ghost of the Prophet



They sat down by the creek. Jeremy did not know what she truly possesses or better said, what possesses her, nobody ever did.

The ghost was floating over the water in the form of a swan, she recognized the light under his wings and she knew that Jeremy did not recognize what they were in the presence of. She tried to tell the swan to go away, but it insisted on nothing less than the truth, she laughed at the concept so deeply inside her. Her way to reality had long been distorted like colors that fade away into the ugliness of the distance.

“Grace be to the Lord who made the creek flow after all this time.”

She stuck to her silence when she truly wanted to tell him how much she wishes it was the work of the lord. I made it flow, it’s my work, she wanted to come out and say it, but it would only ruin the joy of being reunited with him again.

“I've never treated you like I've treated all the others. I guess I've always known something about you was different. Is... different." he smiled, "You’re the only woman I've ever seen who never wants anything at all.”

He’s always been insightful especially when it comes to her, she wondered if he had known how he’s so right about her and yet so wrong.

“You don’t explode with fire like other women, Danielle, even when we were children you were the more contained of both of us.”

The sound of the shot echoed through her mind, the anger of that night has never left her alone. She was only a girl of fourteen when she was visited, she was only fourteen years and two days old when she could no longer stand another beating. 

Her father knelt and kissed her bruises, petrified and trembling under his skin, his eyes wide with terror, she never stopped wondering what might have went through his mind, or the minds of all those who’s fallen victim to her ways, she only wished it would be blank, an emptiness in which only her will echoes. Her mother stood above his head with the gun, and at Danielle’s signal the bullet dislodged and marked her little white dress with blood, her lips were smeared with the metallic taste of blood as well, and then, she stirred her index towards her mother, and the gun obediently followed the movement.

“Now you’ll never say anything, ever again.” that was the last thing she said to her crying mother, and she forever remained glad that such a pity of a woman never got to utter another word.

That anger so defining in the middle of the night was the cornerstone she placed in that hidden room deep inside her dungeons, she buried it in the darkness and locked the ghost and his gifts inside, on the surface she displays but the consequences of bearing the burden of her own soul, and that was what Jeremy saw as often contained and well-controlled.
“You’re a blind fool, Jeremy.” She finally told him.


Getting up to head back to her house, the ghost screamed so loudly that her ears were about to explode by the sirens, she stood up, and shook the dust off her jeans as he followed. She wanted to turn and yell at the ghost so that he’d shut up, or her brain might start exuding through her congested skull.


“Let me take my time” She muttered under her breath.


They entered the house and she threw away her phone and her coat on the old worn out couch, taking her seat beside the dimly lit fireplace she always adored. He has preserved the place quite beautifully. As soon as they came in, his cat came running through the rooms, a racing ball of white and hazel with yellow eyes, only slowing down at her feet. Danielle did not bother moving, the cat was content enough rubbing its body against her legs and relishing in the warmth. Jeremy stood in the kitchen, with a drink of water halfway to his lips, his eyes fixed in a gaze at his cat and the girl relaxing back in her reclining seat , the flickering of the orange fire seemed to disturb the serene effect the flowing creek has left inside him, it stirred up what he was so strongly struggling to suppress for years, he could not break the gaze as the play of light hypnotized him, soon enough, he felt himself disappearing further within a trance, all the universe gravitated towards this simple-looking woman who can’t be melted by the fire of a thousand suns, he on the other hand was weak and his melting point was well above zero when it came to her.


“And Daniel did not frown,
Daniel did not cry,
He kept looking at the sky.
And the Lord said to Gabriel.

Go chain the lions down-
Go chain the lions down-
Go chain the lions down.”


She sang to herself with her eyes closed.


He managed to put the glass of water back on the counter, right on the edge. He walked slowly towards her, every step taken carefully as to not disturb the scene ahead, his breath ceased to flow but heavily. And as he reached the rug, only the cat was starting to be aware of his presence, while her eyes remained lightly shut. He knelt on the rug and gently he drove the cat away with his hands, that hideous object of his jealousy was the last thing to clear away from his way before he was completely lost.


“You’re the only woman worthy of worship.” He pressed his lips against her muddy white sneakers in long kisses, again and again unaware of anything in the world but her feet in his hands, the warmth on his back and  the roughness of the woolen maroon rug against his knees.


She was suddenly aware of those kisses she had long struggled to let go from memory, her body was unexpectedly swept away by the wave of pleasure starting from her toes to the center of her mind, she gasped, “Did I do this?”. It has been a lifetime since god had graced her with the gift of being surprised. He did not seem to hear her, as he removed one sneaker then the other, he did the same thing to her socks afterwards as he looked at her soft smiling face, revealing her clenched toes and holding them within his big callus fists, relaxing them open, relaxing all of her senses open. It was important to her that she stays within the boundaries of her own skin, but with his bare hands and their access to her, the wave starting small was surging into a tsunami. And so she had to ask again, “Did I do this to you, Jeremy?”

“What do you mean?” he replied, his voice was deep and as clear as ever. She closed her eyes tightly and prayed, “May the lord stop this blasphemy.” but Jeremy only caressed her soles with his tongue and whispered repeatedly how she's so perfectly possessed him, how he never wants any other Goddess. That's how she knew that she can let the surprise be pleasurable, that she can let her darkness roam a little bit closer to her skin.


Jeremy has always been immune to her will, with exception to the ghost, he was the only one on whom prayer did not work. For a lifetime she’s tried to pray that he returns to her, she tried to summon him, the yearning was unquenchable. It was pretty conspicuous as she sat in the yard of the mental-health institute, after she was falsely diagnosed with post-traumatic stress disorder and admitted, surrounded by the scattered trees and ending only in high fences to keep her inside, satisfied with her bed next to the peculiarly and remarkably weak, who could not withstand the world as it is. 

She did not belong, she was more sane than the world could ever understand, she knew it very early on. It was time to make peace with her fate, it was time for acceptance to take its seat inside her heart and to let despair lead her to her destined homelessness. But her enemy was hope and her hope had a name, Jeremy. The boy who ran with her through the woods and jumped across the dry water stream with her, teasing the soil at play, she kept a prayer going on day and night for him, but he never came.


After the morning newspaper read “Murder/Suicide Couple With Daughter In The Splash Zone!”, she was treated so mechanically, the religion of her examining specialists was protocol and god forbid they would become sinners.


A woman in a suit came into her house on the day of the incident. She took her to a foster home and bathed her, discovering the family history in the bruises that covered her tiny pale thighs, so naively missing how they were so sweetly avenged by the girl, as Danielle very silently celebrated the decay of her parents. From there on, Danielle vowed silence, festering inside her the wishes that were never answered. 

She woke up when everyone else slept and stood at the window, where only the night lamps attracted life, and she looked out for the ghost of the prophet but she never found anything except silence and the wind that made her spine shiver. She thought that God must have been enraged by what she’s done, she thought his wrath had descended upon her soul and that she will never be able to reach in for her gift again. When Danielle thought that the ghost might have been gone forever, that Gabriel had forbidden him from visiting her window ever again, she felt afraid for the first time since her father’s last beating, she feared that she would be stuck in that prison away from her home, and that slowly she would be no better than the odd ones lying in the adjacent beds.


She was starting to neglect her own hopes, she listened to her nurse and stood in line like all the others, she took her medicine and she tried as hard as she can to talk to her nosy therapist, obsessively concerned about her emotions. It was ridiculous, even to her, how those “professionals” could make a science out of her condition, she found it very arrogant of them that they were trying to decipher her equation into separate terms of brain and mind. However, it wasn't too long until Danielle could no longer neglect that voice from deep within her, whispering impatience as the wish swelled and pressed against her nerves, she tapped her feet, she must see him, once again, she could no longer stand it. 

The nurse, who was handing out pills, walked calmly to the kitchen, retrieved a matchbox and started setting fire to the curtains of the ward, one by one, unhindered by the lunatics raving. She then walked straight towards Danielle, took her by the hand and led her through the beds and out the door, down the stairs and out the gates altogether, as smoke and screams started to form a cloud around the institute.


Danielle went back home, to the woods, and the nurse was executed. Everyone assumed the little girl had met her demise in that horrible place, not much worse than the tragedy of her dead parents. She was exceptionally pleased to know that she still possessed her gift, and that she was back in her house, and whenever anyone came looking for her, she would simply tell them to go away, and strip away their memories, that way only Jeremy found out about her return.


She embraced him tightly and the swift smell of her hair tainted his soul with passion, it was a love so easy as young love always is, with a girl who was not as young as she appeared to be. In time, the dungeons inside her were too convoluted, she sat for hours by the old dead creek and sailed deeper into the will of the divine, residing inside her like a volcano beneath the surface of the earth. She put her hands on the dry yellow lawn and swept it away to her sides and within her she prayed to the Lord that he might make it green again, and so it did, that’s when she realized that all earthly creations have a will, and where there’s a will, there’s a way to be controlled.


Her obsession with developing the breath of god in her lungs became her leading force, her will suddenly became the most lucid force in her life. And so, Danielle, was set on a path of discoveries that needed to start with her and only her, with full control over her own will, so as to control others. Therefore, it was time to pray that God removes Jeremy from her life. But no matter how hard she tried, she could not sway him if her life depended on it, he was closer and dearer than ever. And that smile he induced involuntarily on her, that blush on her cheeks she had no say in, were dangerous threats and so she was the one to get up and leave.


And so Danielle went on to have the stars in her pocket and the moon on a string. She enslaved the entire universe, with the will of god and the ghost of his elect, there was nothing to stand in her way. She drank the finest wines, enjoyed the company of kings and queens without being questioned, and had the most handsome boys and girls in her bedroom, waiting on her desire and decorating her room like ornaments with their submission. She stopped a volcano from erupting and burning an entire village, and shifted the path of a meteor mysteriously. She slowed time, she quickened time, and she had time to explore her place thoroughly, and when she was done, she was met with one simple truth. The concept of reality was only created to keep humans secure in their existence, and that truth was only a result of absolute power independent of all reflections. That is why, the divine does not reflect, but he leaves it to humans to reflect on him in the manifestations of his will, thus, becomes the truth.


What came next for Danielle was an emptiness, a hollowness often met after one finds the answer to one’s thirst. It was as if all those accumulated experiences, all those nights of happiness and misery were all a moorland of nothingness, and finally that long-sought despair was settling in, she had reached her deserved fate and had no way of finding home for the entire world seemed had become as alien and boring as it was years and years before. She did not wished to undo everything, for she knew that if it weren't for the ghost then she would have ended up as one of those feeble minds, never finding the darkness which became her All-Wise mirror on the wall. What she wished for was pain, that suffering humans endured on her hands everyday, how they writhed underneath their skins restlessly trying to reach whatever is higher above. All what she wanted was for Jeremy to come back and tear her skin apart without asking to let her soul free. For the will of everyone in the world was only a reflection of hers and so he must be the one, for anything else would only be suicide. She wanted him to know her, and to take his revenge from the thick blood spewing through her arteries.


And so she went back, sat down by the creek, it was unfair that it remains dry after all those years, and so she prayed for the water to flood it anew and rejuvenate the woods. Then she waited for him to came by and sit beside her. On his own time, he did.


When she was lying beside him in bed, sweeping away a drop of sweat rolling down his flushed forehead she said, “On the night of my fourteenth birthday, the Ghost of the Prophet Daniel visited my window and kissed me. In his breath was the will of God that he concealed inside me, I have been to the end of the world and back searching for my purpose ever since. I've never treated you like the others, my love, there was always something different about you, your will is beyond my reach. I've never asked you for anything before, for I've rarely desired anything that I could not obtain up until now, except pain. I no longer wish to be immune to the chaos of my humanity, I've caused the world to suffer and fell deeply in love with suffering. My darling man, don’t worship me, don't place your will unto me but rather free me from my will entirely. My darling man, would you please kill me?”

“This is the most strange of situations” Jeremy said, “I remember now, how one night as I walked through the woods a lion interjected my path, and with a stamp of his paw he blinded me with the dust of the earth. And then he told me, that when the day comes, I must find within me the courage to murder my beloved if I'm to save her soul, just like he was ready to devour Daniel whom he so dearly loved, if God had willed it.”