What we are

At first, there was nothing but silence and darkness. There was nothing but oppression, the oppression of crushed possibilities, of rubble instead of walls, of chaos instead of order. Silence had imposed it's weighty reign and darkness had shadowed everything.

But then my eyes opened wide, they opened now, then or later; my eyes, they were white and glowing through the eternal night of cold and calm. Like a failing breath on a feathered bed of death darkness fell away and out of naught, out of the purest of necessities came light.

Light like an explosion, rushing through everything, giving to all the beauty and the divine grace of shapes and colours. The shapes, they drew around me, shaped as I could only be shaped, solidifying me and that which was around me. There were shapes around me, light years away but at the same time so close. There was no ground, there was no sky, just blinding light like a photograph that went horribly right, and our eyes and silhouettes gently protruding out.

The colours burst forth in a universal infinity of shades and shapes, writhing around our defined but yet to be outlined bodies, tickling our subtle skin, flying through the air, ripping around like ferocious lightning, lashing at us in strokes that gave us life, as if those colours were being applied to us by a painter with an unexperienced hand.

The colours were still flying around us when I saw that there were others around me. At that moment, out of highest of ethers, into the inferno and absolute chaos came a straight, inexorable booming bush of mauve sound, pounding into us, blinding us at first, and then we saw the world under a different light, we saw ourselves and that we were not the only ones; “that” truly existed. The sky and the ground appeared: rainbows of intense colours tore out of the shiny silver sea, whose blues were occupied by all the brightness of life. Shimmering shoals of fish flew into the airs and birds of an angelic purity planed above the gorgeous, solid ground. Trees of brown essence emerged out of the fresh, lush, green ground and bore fruits as numerous as the colours of light.

We were glorious; divine children of the sun, beautiful in our golden nudity, victorious in our proudest of stances, for we were guilty of nothing and innocent of everything. We looked at each other, and smiled.

Then that which threw light at our divine figures turned into a burning yellow ball of fire and lust. We roasted in splendour beneath it's golden haze, and the heat kept us snug and warm like a woman's adoring embrace. We were gently lifted down to the ground, and poised ourselves to observe the life around us.

And so the burning ball gently descended fingers above the sea and the light it spawned was mauve and glazed, illuminating our figures in a weaker light, making our pupils bigger so as to see better the ones around us. Interest came to mind, intentions formed, desire became and lust decided. Under a soft purple roof the time of loving had come.

Things happened to our bodies, our hearts beating faster as every moment came and went. Our eyes widened, our skins turned moist, and all we could see was the object of our sweet, unspoiled desire, caked in the water and sand, with eyes piercing through us like arrows.

We understood these were emotions, and that they were what we lived for. We lived for this moment, and we lived for every moment there ever was.

The globe of hazy fire then, in a moment of utmost singularity, suddenly plunged into the sea, ripping into the freezing distances and disappearing from view. Any fascination that we had for it vanished, and we were now fully aware of that which lay before us, that beautiful thing, that marvellous creation.

The ball had turned pale and we could see the reflection of it's downward fall through water in the sky, and to illuminate it's path in a little comforting light stars came in sight and fired up like miniatures of the one they were shining down on. The fire of our desire kept us hot and steamy throughout the night if having each other was not enough, which it was.

A vast radiant beach and a cool jeweled moon: the sand seeps into our senses, the wind caresses our bodies that were being held as we held the other, the perfect half. We laughed like toddlers at the delight we experienced, we knew this was right, this was meant to be.

And then it happens. The annihilating emotion that blows it's way into our life, thought, reality, dreams, whatever, burning holes, leaving it's mark and leaving us looking for more.

We are now children of the moon, and we set sail into the sea of time and space, diving into our intentions, swimming through the elements and carrying with us that mellow yellow streak of nostalgia time has eventually given us.

Here's to the Electric Feel.

Red