Tuesday, April 03, 2007

We meet in the forest

We meet in the forest, not far from the hill cleansed of trees. The forest is shrinking. It’s shrinking everywhere, except at humanity’s core.

We meet in the forest, a bunch of strangers joining the circle around the fire. The flames reach into the darkness and burn naked skin. We feel it, all of us, an uninterrupted flow, a sense of belonging, undeniable.

I entered the forest at dusk, leaving the emptiness behind, forever. The sight of the destruction faded in my inner eye. I imagined the mighty fire in my mind, and suddenly I was there. The other strangers appeared in the open clearing as I did, as if we had planned it all… and we had. I joined the other strangers, joined the circle around the fire.

We stare at each other across the fire, through the dancing fire at the eight other shadow creatures in the circle. Strands of night and fire reach for us and penetrate us. The nine live and do magick in the land of the moon. We are The Nine, and we live, in a world of the living dead. Five and four of each sex meet in the forest, far from civilization’s destructive, horrible reality. This is ours. We sing and speak meaningless words not words, doorways, wide-open portals to the unknown known, and we travel Time and Space, and limitation is only a word. We open ourselves, and thereby the world. A rift opens at the edge of existence. There is no border. The other, larger Other World is here, with us. We open ourselves to the world, and the world opens itself to us.

A mist flows from the fire and surround The Nine. We feel it, feel how the shimmering air grabs us. Ancient, meaningless words rise from quivering throats. We give them meaning, and thereby ourselves.

The Journey begins, free of the body and even thought. It is the «soul», the Shadow, our eternal Self, rising from the body, fading in the darkness. But we are not fading, not fading at all. We’re growing and are more than we were. Suddenly we are a completely different place, one I have visited before, a room not a room, but a place Travelers meet. The walls are not walls, but windows, displays of the eternity and infinity in our eyes. In countless flashes we experience entire lives, experiences we will never be able to describe, even with a million years at out disposal. This is Hyperreality, the true reality. The other we have left behind is the illusion, not in the sense that it doesn’t exist, but in its importance.

How long is the Journey? How far have we traveled? I can never quite decide and I don’t care. Both questions are meaningless. Those we ask ourselves in the thousand eternities we leave behind are of a far greater significance.

We are back in the forest and the trees and the growth and everything around us is alive, even more so than we remember a long, long time ago. We breathe hard, but every breath makes us glow with life. How long is the night? The reply is no reply, but a long row of questions, of loud howls resounding in the air. Countless mornings have come and gone, and it is still night.

The Nine live in the land of the moon.

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