I rise through the ceiling. It is impossible, yet I do it.
There is no feeling, but I can see my hands in front of me , solid as ever.
The night sky has no temperature, very little light.
Above me I see only the distant stars.
Then I am in a corridor.
I float face up, yet I can see ahead and behind as well.
A curious smell saturates the air, yet the odor reminds me of music.
Emotions course through me without cause or effect, like paint on a canvas.
I am wholly alone, yet we are all together.
I am he as you are me and we are altogether. Simolena Pilchard, climbing up the Eiffel Tower…
I am wholly alone, yet we are all together – what a comforting line.
It seems to calm and ordered to be drug induced. I like the way you used paint and canvas
great story of inter-dimensional travel
Nice. I too was struck by the line “Emotions course through me without cause or effect, like paint on a canvas.” It really made me think,
Namaste
It is impossible yet I do it. Part of you remained aware that it was a dream – I know the feeling well.
This is a compliment. It reminded me of a poetic Trainspotting. I was seriously moved by your words.
No idea what’s going on here, but it felt a bit iek peotry to read it. At least until the last line when I got distracted by the Beatles! Was that a deliberate twist?