Lifelight was supposed to be a tool for good. we would go in and save lives and societies, maintain peace in the multiverse. Our director was Ramona. One event, we went into a river/forest society to fight big bat creatures. I was flying over a great lake and landed in a pine tree, chasing off the draghkar, when I looked behind me to see a great war machine, eating up the forest and its people. The shock woke me from lifelight and I woke to find Ramona at the controls, running the machine that was destroying the forest. In my anger, I grabbed a weapon and shot her. Guards heard the shots and chased me through the complex. Fast-forward, I'm attending a ceremony with some of my colleagues. It's twilight at a lake village. One of them is my lover. He's flirting with a former ex in the water and other women are trying to join. I raise my arm to get his attention and give him a stern look. the woman next to me slaps my arm away. We fight. A mediator from my group of colleagues drags me away and I have a minor breakdown. I'm knocked from that world and brought to the lifelight direct input center (a stepping stone between my world and the others) where my colleague sits me down and asks what's wrong. I tell him that I'm miserable and angry at Jack, and that I miss my husband with every fiber of my being. My colleague offers himself to me, I tell him that's impossible (our minds are at the input center, but I have no idea where his body is) He hugs me and brings my lover back in. My lover hugs me and we exit lifelight together. I wake up in a shock like waking from a dream and it's freezing outside. Jack wakes with me and asks why it's so cold. I say "it's because we've been spending too much damn time in lifelight." I remember that there was an apocalypse and that everyone we know is dead besides jack and the few lifelight jumpers we run into when we stream. most people are lawless bandits, at least as far as we know.
We live in a shed that we've rigged with lifelight wiring. I grab an axe to go outside and find firewood. We live in a place where trees are sparse and I have to walk far from my shed before I get to a tree. and I'm chopping, I see a person driving through the plains and I run away. I get close to the shack to warn Jack, but they have caught up with me. I find that they are peaceable, then I wake up.
Saturday, May 25, 2013
Thursday, May 9, 2013
The Rivers are Running Again
This one isn't very interesting. But I'm going to paint it :D
A city's skyline at dusk, transposed against a backdrop of winter-brown mountains. The sun is a glowing-hot orb that makes shadows of the mountains and skyline. A single white building is visible in its glare. Nobody is around.
I am travelling down an old stretch of interstate asphalt; two or three lanes. I have a companion with me, we have recently met but have developed a familiarity. We're going in the same direction and he's going to be travelling with me for a period of time. We rely on each other.
On either side of us rise grassy medians. We are in a part of the road that was once an interchange, and above us, bridges and overpasses stretch to the sky.
There is a sudden change in our awareness, something has happened. We hear water trickling, then rushing. We run to the median just as a rush of water floods the interstate, but it isn't normal water. It's luminescent, it glows with a milky white light. Within the water, iridescent rainbow abstractions flicker.
We don't really understand the water, but it moves with speed. We decide to build a boat and travel along it. It will save us the walking and make our journey easier.
A city's skyline at dusk, transposed against a backdrop of winter-brown mountains. The sun is a glowing-hot orb that makes shadows of the mountains and skyline. A single white building is visible in its glare. Nobody is around.
I am travelling down an old stretch of interstate asphalt; two or three lanes. I have a companion with me, we have recently met but have developed a familiarity. We're going in the same direction and he's going to be travelling with me for a period of time. We rely on each other.
On either side of us rise grassy medians. We are in a part of the road that was once an interchange, and above us, bridges and overpasses stretch to the sky.
There is a sudden change in our awareness, something has happened. We hear water trickling, then rushing. We run to the median just as a rush of water floods the interstate, but it isn't normal water. It's luminescent, it glows with a milky white light. Within the water, iridescent rainbow abstractions flicker.
We don't really understand the water, but it moves with speed. We decide to build a boat and travel along it. It will save us the walking and make our journey easier.
Wednesday, May 8, 2013
Infinity
Come with me, child,
And i'll shoot you into infinity
Come with me, child,
And i'll shoot you into the boundless void
Where your soul will fire a thousand and one suns
And your body will birth their thousand and one earths
Come with me, child
And we'll swim in a sea of stars
You'll lose your body and the confines of your mind
And your soul will finally run free
Come with me, child
And i'll shoot you into infinity
And i'll shoot you into infinity
Come with me, child,
And i'll shoot you into the boundless void
Where your soul will fire a thousand and one suns
And your body will birth their thousand and one earths
Come with me, child
And we'll swim in a sea of stars
You'll lose your body and the confines of your mind
And your soul will finally run free
Come with me, child
And i'll shoot you into infinity
Sunday, May 5, 2013
Into the Mountains
A long road, barren, unknown to most, shown to me by a stranger.
I follow its path as it winds away from civilization, even the farm houses with their sheep and goats.
The road leads into he mountains. Mountains that few people, if any, have explored. it's said that people who go to the mountains never return, but it is considered to be a happy ending, full of mystery and wonder.
I seek the mountains. For solitude, for understanding, perhaps even enlightenment. When the stranger tells me of the road, I am not frightened. I am not even "intrigued." I find in myself a deep longing to go there, to lose myself in the mists. The others could only approach on foot, doomed to lose themselves in the trees before ever passing over. They lacked the will or means. They lacked the proper understanding.
Me? I was born for this. It is one of my reasons for being; a task that I must accomplish. I do not intend on returning. I do not want to die, I do not want to be gone. But I know deep inside, so deep that it resonates in my bones, that I, or this world, will be inexorably changed. I do not fear this. It is a compulsion, and instinct that I must follow.
What do I seek? I do not seek. There is an Answer in the mountains. An answer to which I do not know the question. I only know that it is there, and that I must find it and allow it to do its work.
The road is long. I do not walk it, for those that walk to the mountain never find their way. I follow the road. It is white sand in tall, emerald grass, through plains and over rolling hills. There are no people. There are no buildings. There is no life other than the grass, and all is silent except the wind in my ears and the rustling of the grass below. As I journey, I only see the White Road and the green grass plains, stretching along in misty nothingness, perhaps stretching to infinity.
I rise higher and break through the mist to find myself drifting above the foothills of the Mountain. They are a rich, lush green. The White Road is not visible as it passes between the final two foothills. From between them rises a mist that climbs up the face of the mountain.
The Mountain itself is mystery incarnate. It is wondrous and beautiful, covered in pristine trees that have never been touched by man. They create an ambient mist that wafts off of the mountain in tendrils before dissipating into the air. The Mountain is ridged and wrinkled, as if water flows freely down its sides, and from those ridges drift lazy sheets of mist.
I feel a crushing sense of mystery and awe. She is a pillar of grace, of absolution. She is not anything, she does nothing, she simply... is. She does not speak, yet all the words in the world could never describe what she says. Words falter before her. They fail utterly.
She does not watch, she sees. She does not do, she withstands. She is the great I Am, the answer to the question I didn't even know I had been asking.
I had prayed, even pleaded, my soul torn asunder from the pain of it, from the desperation. One does not know their own wretched state until seen in the eyes of the Mountain. But pleads and prayers do not reach the mountain. Only questions reach her ears.
She withstood me while I railed against all that she is, but when I asked, she answered. Total absolution, and utter certainty. I am changed. I have been answered.
I follow its path as it winds away from civilization, even the farm houses with their sheep and goats.
The road leads into he mountains. Mountains that few people, if any, have explored. it's said that people who go to the mountains never return, but it is considered to be a happy ending, full of mystery and wonder.
I seek the mountains. For solitude, for understanding, perhaps even enlightenment. When the stranger tells me of the road, I am not frightened. I am not even "intrigued." I find in myself a deep longing to go there, to lose myself in the mists. The others could only approach on foot, doomed to lose themselves in the trees before ever passing over. They lacked the will or means. They lacked the proper understanding.
Me? I was born for this. It is one of my reasons for being; a task that I must accomplish. I do not intend on returning. I do not want to die, I do not want to be gone. But I know deep inside, so deep that it resonates in my bones, that I, or this world, will be inexorably changed. I do not fear this. It is a compulsion, and instinct that I must follow.
What do I seek? I do not seek. There is an Answer in the mountains. An answer to which I do not know the question. I only know that it is there, and that I must find it and allow it to do its work.
The road is long. I do not walk it, for those that walk to the mountain never find their way. I follow the road. It is white sand in tall, emerald grass, through plains and over rolling hills. There are no people. There are no buildings. There is no life other than the grass, and all is silent except the wind in my ears and the rustling of the grass below. As I journey, I only see the White Road and the green grass plains, stretching along in misty nothingness, perhaps stretching to infinity.
I rise higher and break through the mist to find myself drifting above the foothills of the Mountain. They are a rich, lush green. The White Road is not visible as it passes between the final two foothills. From between them rises a mist that climbs up the face of the mountain.
The Mountain itself is mystery incarnate. It is wondrous and beautiful, covered in pristine trees that have never been touched by man. They create an ambient mist that wafts off of the mountain in tendrils before dissipating into the air. The Mountain is ridged and wrinkled, as if water flows freely down its sides, and from those ridges drift lazy sheets of mist.
I feel a crushing sense of mystery and awe. She is a pillar of grace, of absolution. She is not anything, she does nothing, she simply... is. She does not speak, yet all the words in the world could never describe what she says. Words falter before her. They fail utterly.
She does not watch, she sees. She does not do, she withstands. She is the great I Am, the answer to the question I didn't even know I had been asking.
I had prayed, even pleaded, my soul torn asunder from the pain of it, from the desperation. One does not know their own wretched state until seen in the eyes of the Mountain. But pleads and prayers do not reach the mountain. Only questions reach her ears.
She withstood me while I railed against all that she is, but when I asked, she answered. Total absolution, and utter certainty. I am changed. I have been answered.
Wednesday, May 1, 2013
Wolf Demons and Flying Again
When I was young, I lived on a farm with my family. We were plagued by demons and hauntings. After several exorcisms, we were able to live in peace while I grew up
One of the demons we exorcised was an aggressive wolf demon. He was one of the few whom we feared would return. One day, like any other normal day, we found puppies playing in the house. We tried to shoo them out, but any time we got close, they ran away. Well, the puppy barks became deeper, louder, more dog-like. At first I was confused, but then I remembered the wolf demon. I ran to the side door and saw two wolves sitting there, staring me down. I said to my younger brothers and sisters: "quick, get to the back door. don't let them in!" the back door was how they had gotten in last time.
Before I could get to there to repel them, 6-7 wolves had managed to get into my house. They were lined up and ready to fight. My brothers and sisters appeared ready to fight too, but we had no weapons. I said "no, don't fight them." and we surrendered.
The leader was a black wolf who could shape change to a human, but he always looked wolf-like. dark, dirty face, bright eyes. we were walking in my backyard on a path above a dry streambed. he was talking about his plans. "wolves have been oppressed for a long time. Hated, feared, killed. That stops now."
"So you're staging a campaign? Will you leave when it's finished?
"No."
"I can help you. We can all help you. All you have to do is ask."
"No."
"Then will you subjugate us?" He smiles. Yes.
I am fed up. Anger rises within me and I walk silently. We get to the end of the deck and he turns his back on me. I know he's a demon, I know that faith and willpower can weaken him, so I attempt to tear him apart with my mind. It works, he is torn in two. He falls over the railing into the stream bed. I lean over to watch him and make sure he stays dead, but the parts start trembling. I know that he will put himself back together and seek revenge.
Having known this wolf demon as a child, I thought I understood his nature. I knew that he was ruthless with his enemies, but I took a gamble on whether he would hurt a cub. "Tell him where I went. Don't tell him where I'm going." I take off at a run.
I'm terrified. I know that wolves are faster than me. I hope the time he takes to get himself back together is enough time for me to come up with a decent plan.
I hear my name called and I turn around. My creepy neighbor is chasing me down. I despair. I know now how the wolves got in. He continues to call my name. He is gaining ground. He will overtake me soon.
I despair, but then he says "You have a tool that they don't have!"
I am confused. He's a crazy old man, but something about what he said rang a bell. Then I remembered. I have wings. Large, strong, proud wings. I had flown before but forgotten how, and in forgetting that I forgot that I ever had them.
I remember the joy of flight, how free I could be. I imagine that I have wings again, imagine the feel of their strength and power. I start to pick up speed and altitude and am able to fly several more blocks before I tire. I land on a shed to rest.
But now the Wolf Demon is coming. I can hear his howls and the baying of his pack. I can sense him as he speeds toward me and my shed. He knows exactly where I am. I am terrified, and already I can feel my wings weaken.
I try desperately to hold on to the feelings of flight, but they are quelled by the abject terror in my soul. In my despair, I think of my brothers and sisters, how much they still need me, and what the Wolf Demon might do to them if I can't draw him off. I need to protect them. Their need gives me the surge of willpower I necessary to summon my full wingspan and take off. It has begun to rain.
I tire again quickly, but I am a few hundred yards further and higher when I do. I alight in a willow tree with hope in my heart.
I am tired, but I am high in a willow tree, too high for them to get me. And I've remembered my wings, so I pull out my umbrella and wait for the scary wolves to come.
One of the demons we exorcised was an aggressive wolf demon. He was one of the few whom we feared would return. One day, like any other normal day, we found puppies playing in the house. We tried to shoo them out, but any time we got close, they ran away. Well, the puppy barks became deeper, louder, more dog-like. At first I was confused, but then I remembered the wolf demon. I ran to the side door and saw two wolves sitting there, staring me down. I said to my younger brothers and sisters: "quick, get to the back door. don't let them in!" the back door was how they had gotten in last time.
Before I could get to there to repel them, 6-7 wolves had managed to get into my house. They were lined up and ready to fight. My brothers and sisters appeared ready to fight too, but we had no weapons. I said "no, don't fight them." and we surrendered.
The leader was a black wolf who could shape change to a human, but he always looked wolf-like. dark, dirty face, bright eyes. we were walking in my backyard on a path above a dry streambed. he was talking about his plans. "wolves have been oppressed for a long time. Hated, feared, killed. That stops now."
"So you're staging a campaign? Will you leave when it's finished?
"No."
"I can help you. We can all help you. All you have to do is ask."
"No."
"Then will you subjugate us?" He smiles. Yes.
I am fed up. Anger rises within me and I walk silently. We get to the end of the deck and he turns his back on me. I know he's a demon, I know that faith and willpower can weaken him, so I attempt to tear him apart with my mind. It works, he is torn in two. He falls over the railing into the stream bed. I lean over to watch him and make sure he stays dead, but the parts start trembling. I know that he will put himself back together and seek revenge.
Having known this wolf demon as a child, I thought I understood his nature. I knew that he was ruthless with his enemies, but I took a gamble on whether he would hurt a cub. "Tell him where I went. Don't tell him where I'm going." I take off at a run.
I'm terrified. I know that wolves are faster than me. I hope the time he takes to get himself back together is enough time for me to come up with a decent plan.
I hear my name called and I turn around. My creepy neighbor is chasing me down. I despair. I know now how the wolves got in. He continues to call my name. He is gaining ground. He will overtake me soon.
I despair, but then he says "You have a tool that they don't have!"
I am confused. He's a crazy old man, but something about what he said rang a bell. Then I remembered. I have wings. Large, strong, proud wings. I had flown before but forgotten how, and in forgetting that I forgot that I ever had them.
I remember the joy of flight, how free I could be. I imagine that I have wings again, imagine the feel of their strength and power. I start to pick up speed and altitude and am able to fly several more blocks before I tire. I land on a shed to rest.
But now the Wolf Demon is coming. I can hear his howls and the baying of his pack. I can sense him as he speeds toward me and my shed. He knows exactly where I am. I am terrified, and already I can feel my wings weaken.
I try desperately to hold on to the feelings of flight, but they are quelled by the abject terror in my soul. In my despair, I think of my brothers and sisters, how much they still need me, and what the Wolf Demon might do to them if I can't draw him off. I need to protect them. Their need gives me the surge of willpower I necessary to summon my full wingspan and take off. It has begun to rain.
I tire again quickly, but I am a few hundred yards further and higher when I do. I alight in a willow tree with hope in my heart.
I am tired, but I am high in a willow tree, too high for them to get me. And I've remembered my wings, so I pull out my umbrella and wait for the scary wolves to come.
The Dragon
This is a dream I had a couple of weeks ago that I never got a chance to publish
I write these upon waking, so a lot are free-flowing.
There is a breaking, an event. An industrialized society. People are disappearing, there is a strange, luminescent fog everywhere. There is an epicenter, the event grows every day. The event has a driver, a villian. like a tyrannical king. He is offering amnesty to anyone who joins him, but those who do lose their souls. We are on the edge of the epicenter, a huge colony. men, workers, women, children. There are regular attacks, we are generally well-prepared. Then there is an attack where the Dragon himself haunts the skies. He destroys many people. His luminescent fog spreads, people vanish within it. A friend or a leader is killed, I go to negotiate. Closer within the epicenter, the fog is like soup. There are objects floating, each appearing as pearly glass, unique in its structure. They look something like molecular diagram structures (circles joined by lines) They are the souls of those taken by the Dragon. As I gain ground within, I see the Dragon take flight. He is like one with the fog, more an apparition, a bending of the light, rather than great and terrible lizard. I am accelerated through space (sucked in?) toward him. I black out, and wake in a basement somewhere. I am lying on a pallet, I am alone. I sit up, I am terrified. He is across the room, cooking, reading, I don't know what, but he is a man. A beautiful one; long, fair hair, loose white shirt, regular workman's clothes. I disturb him when I wake. He comes over, he wants to have a conversation, make nice. I do not. I am stubbornly quiet. He wants me to swear over to him. I refuse. He tells me something like "you're meant for greatness" and he pulls out a brand. I fight him on it. There is another person there; his assistant? she doesn't matter. He tells me that "veronica has sworn, and she is not broken" But she is broken, she is meek and brainless. I tell him this. He banishes her. He sits me down and tells me that he's going to destroy my colony if I don't swear, that he WILL have me one way or another. I make him promise that, if I swear, he won't hurt them. He promises. He pulls out a circle that has different brands attached. He goes through to pick one, I notice they look like the souls. He tells me "you know, you've done this before. Every time I've ever come, you have sworn to me. Remember last time?" He shows me a story book, one that is old. "Back in 2011, you swore. That was only the last time, you've sworn many other times too. It's really not that bad. Remember?" And I do remember. I have a vague premonition, and then I remember "swearing" every other time. I was not swearing an oath of servitude to a tyrant, I was swearing an oath to righteousness, whatever its instrument. I remember the prescence I felt, and I realize that he is the embodiment of masculine righteousness. I choose which brand, I've found the one I want. It's not on the ring, nobody else has this brand. And it's not just a brand, it's a means to communicate with the Dragon directly(All of them are). He smiles, and fetches it. It hurts, and I know it's going to hurt. I'm crying with the pain of it, but he promises me that it will be over soon. It's not a one-and-done brand, it's like a tattoo. He brands the skin just slightly to get an outline, then scratches the tattoo in. He inscribes it differently for its function. He is debating whether to write in a means for mutual communication. He decides he doesn't want to, and I ask him why. He say something innocent. I told him that I would not accept the brand if he didn't inscribe it that way. He refused, and I asked him why, really why, and his face falls. Then I notice a storybook on the chair. It has a picture of him inscribing me, then the next page shows him in a white knight's garb, but he is crying, in grief. I realize that one of us is going to be lost. I also realize that I love him, and have all these years, every time I have ever sworn, every righteous life I've ever lived (reincarnation undertones) has been by his side, this pillar or righteousness. I tell him to finish the inscription, and come what may, but it was what needed to be done. I also realize that he is going to die, and I must carry the banner from here on out.
I write these upon waking, so a lot are free-flowing.
There is a breaking, an event. An industrialized society. People are disappearing, there is a strange, luminescent fog everywhere. There is an epicenter, the event grows every day. The event has a driver, a villian. like a tyrannical king. He is offering amnesty to anyone who joins him, but those who do lose their souls. We are on the edge of the epicenter, a huge colony. men, workers, women, children. There are regular attacks, we are generally well-prepared. Then there is an attack where the Dragon himself haunts the skies. He destroys many people. His luminescent fog spreads, people vanish within it. A friend or a leader is killed, I go to negotiate. Closer within the epicenter, the fog is like soup. There are objects floating, each appearing as pearly glass, unique in its structure. They look something like molecular diagram structures (circles joined by lines) They are the souls of those taken by the Dragon. As I gain ground within, I see the Dragon take flight. He is like one with the fog, more an apparition, a bending of the light, rather than great and terrible lizard. I am accelerated through space (sucked in?) toward him. I black out, and wake in a basement somewhere. I am lying on a pallet, I am alone. I sit up, I am terrified. He is across the room, cooking, reading, I don't know what, but he is a man. A beautiful one; long, fair hair, loose white shirt, regular workman's clothes. I disturb him when I wake. He comes over, he wants to have a conversation, make nice. I do not. I am stubbornly quiet. He wants me to swear over to him. I refuse. He tells me something like "you're meant for greatness" and he pulls out a brand. I fight him on it. There is another person there; his assistant? she doesn't matter. He tells me that "veronica has sworn, and she is not broken" But she is broken, she is meek and brainless. I tell him this. He banishes her. He sits me down and tells me that he's going to destroy my colony if I don't swear, that he WILL have me one way or another. I make him promise that, if I swear, he won't hurt them. He promises. He pulls out a circle that has different brands attached. He goes through to pick one, I notice they look like the souls. He tells me "you know, you've done this before. Every time I've ever come, you have sworn to me. Remember last time?" He shows me a story book, one that is old. "Back in 2011, you swore. That was only the last time, you've sworn many other times too. It's really not that bad. Remember?" And I do remember. I have a vague premonition, and then I remember "swearing" every other time. I was not swearing an oath of servitude to a tyrant, I was swearing an oath to righteousness, whatever its instrument. I remember the prescence I felt, and I realize that he is the embodiment of masculine righteousness. I choose which brand, I've found the one I want. It's not on the ring, nobody else has this brand. And it's not just a brand, it's a means to communicate with the Dragon directly(All of them are). He smiles, and fetches it. It hurts, and I know it's going to hurt. I'm crying with the pain of it, but he promises me that it will be over soon. It's not a one-and-done brand, it's like a tattoo. He brands the skin just slightly to get an outline, then scratches the tattoo in. He inscribes it differently for its function. He is debating whether to write in a means for mutual communication. He decides he doesn't want to, and I ask him why. He say something innocent. I told him that I would not accept the brand if he didn't inscribe it that way. He refused, and I asked him why, really why, and his face falls. Then I notice a storybook on the chair. It has a picture of him inscribing me, then the next page shows him in a white knight's garb, but he is crying, in grief. I realize that one of us is going to be lost. I also realize that I love him, and have all these years, every time I have ever sworn, every righteous life I've ever lived (reincarnation undertones) has been by his side, this pillar or righteousness. I tell him to finish the inscription, and come what may, but it was what needed to be done. I also realize that he is going to die, and I must carry the banner from here on out.
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