Really! I'm not mad, the ones who know me know it; I don't even abuse of psychotropics or dangerous substances, like the LSD or the laudanum, mother and father of so many quiet storms.
My case is just a "variation of the logical perspicacy", or what -for some authorities- was called "lucid dreams with objective appreciation of the taxative reality by specifically multi-dimensional access".
Our mind can not, I mean, should not be limited to the simple state of vigil; nothing is really coincidence, but many times do happen strange concatenations of chances that appear like fortuitous in front of our eyes; most of the times, though, these unexpected facts lie already -like subliminal and previous material- inside our minds.
The structure of our mind owns this information, filed like non-classified sequences: maybe these unconscious subjects are related to that sort of blurred sensations and thoughts that many times keep us uneasily thoughtful, without finding the real source of our preoccupation, to rationalize it...but such data lie there, in our mind, latent, evanescent and extraneous; but absolutely powerful and, for sure: real.
Our perception is gyved to a little measurement of possiblities, we are manacled to our scarce mental development, while the most of our psychic potential remains inactive. But the potencies of our mind are incalculable.
These essential notions are manifested many times in the universe of the dreams, ad related to every datum filed into our mental "archives".
Futurition, strange coincidences that -actually- are unconsciously provoked, sensations and fears strongly rooted inside us since the obscure origin of ourselves as beings...
Seldom I remember my dreams, but when I do, they are usually long situations (escaping from the "different" perception that we have about the time in our dreams, this probably related, somehow, to the REM, and with the privative nature of the dreams' logic, and its diffuse limits about time an even space. This logic includes a depth and a flexibility that seems illogical to our mind when we are awake; but it's absolutely normal and logical for its own terms, nature and circumstance).
One of the most mysterious characteristics of our dreams is the impossiblity to react: to react freely, even logically as we do during our hours of vigil, being awake. In our dreams, the situations just run (sometimes, even, without a logical chronological order), they run hauling us, taking us with its "flow": like in a strange, pre-arranged situation, we are just witness of ourselves, impotent witness (in our dreams the "free will" is neutralized, and I think this is at least matter of profuse discussion yet).
...Sometimes we don't appear in the scene, but we're always near, there...and the weirdest situations don't surprise us...
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II: Syllabus/a descent into a reverie
...I know I was walking into an obscure place that seemed to be a cavern, the illumination -indistinct and vague- threw fantastic shadows all along the walls and the ceiling, rugose and relucent as the irregular ground.
During a moment I thought I saw pieces of onyx encrusted into the texture...the redness of the light and its mysterious source kept me pensative during a good while, beholding my own shadow against the walls, trembling diffusely...
The place was such an ample sepulchre, the smell of humidity and the contrast of the dimness with the brilliant corners of the place, gave that chamber a duskily nervous atmosphere. Huge drops of limpid water draining from some gaps in the walls and ceiling made me figure something that made my heartbeats go slightly faster...the idea of being into a subterranean cave, which was under water, under a river, or lake...or the ocean..? (If the place was many kilometers under the ocean the water would lose its salt, running by its meandering subterranean courses)...this sudden idea kept me paralyzed for long minutes, maybe one hour, or more; my mind was visited by strange thinkings...
Suddenly the capricious shape of some mushrooms was revealed by certain source of light that seemed being changing furtively, on particular spots of the walls and ceiling, like pappy colonies of green, murky carpets. I started feeling myself ill, and the nausea, and the vomit!
I fell on my knees on the humid ground.
While I was in that position with my mind in blank, I could feel something walking on my thigh's skin (I was absolutely naked, and the place was strangely warm)...it was a spider, her body was like a black-huge grape, and her paws were thin, long and hairy, moving with nervous spasms...I saw during one second her shadow reflected on my leg. With a mechanical slap I made her fly away, listening the dry ricochet of her body hitting on a wall: automatically I did stand up with repugnance...now the cavern was cold and I felt an intense chill descending all along my spine; the silence there was profound, but not absolute...
Decided to get out of that place I started walking again into those semi-shades, my bare feet trampling the -now- almost frozen ground, soft but uneven; walking on unknown things with prudent repugnance: I walked for...hours? Days? Minutes?
At every new step that sad place seemed to be larger, longer, invariable...it could be interminable that labyrinth?
The cavern had corners, tortuous, every sinuous angle of that frouzy homestall excited more and more my extravagant speculations about a condition and nature that, in that moment, I deemed unfathomable.
A deep sadness invaded me. Did invade my spirit into that cavern...
...While into obscure lucubrations I was sunk, I started listening a murmur; like the sond of the waters of a cascade; or at least that was what I thought.
My superstitious and mutable spirit was invaded by 1.000 presages...while the sound; that sound...became more intense, closer, closer!
The place started geting more brilliant and warm, lit by a growing blue light now; a blue radiance as I never had seen before, and as I won't see anymore.
Instinctively I stopped walking: I closed my eyes...
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III: In the profound of a dawn
...When the glitter became unbearable, I decided to open my eyes; in a second which was like a century (or maybe was actually a century), suddenly I did it, furtive, slowly: what I saw appearing in front my eyes congealed my blood in a jerk of umbrageous horror: a scream escaped from my throat...
...Surrounded by a foggy luminousness, two ultramundane, blue, septangular creatures; two azured, uncreated spectres were standing there, looking at me with their pink eyes: an effigy and a sphinx of imposing contexture, both looked like cast in blue stone; floating both in the air...
They came closer to me, though in spite of my immense panic I could not run...I didn't want perhaps...then I realized about an incredible fact, beholding minutely the effigy: the face of my sweet Madam C.......?
Did that effigy have her face?
Trying to suffocate my incommesurable horror I stayed quiet, with a rare calm, at the same time, the sphinx, opening her lips, started talking to me.
When her powerful and metallic voice started sounding, I fell down on my knees with my palms on the ground. All of her words, imperative and enigmatic, were pronounced in an unknown tongue that I understood perfectly, though.
The sphinx was the source of the effigy, and the effigy was the essence and origin of the sphinx: they were two, and one.
And they shared their wings and their wheels, and their arms. Arms like the beryl they had, and thighs like bluesteel; and double sex; and breast of woman they had. Breast distilling yellow milk; and the effigy was beautiful, and the sphinx was horrible.
And their hair was horrent, long and blue, their hair was pure haze, and light. And vipers of the water...vipers was their hair, vipers of the waters.
...Scared to death I was, scared but not confused I was.
And the effigy started speaking.
Her voice was like a melody of love, sweet and sincere.
She taught me things, with her amorous voïce she did it.
Because her voice was like an ozone's lute hanging from the skies.
And I cried, I cried much; as I never had cried before.
Because her voïce was like a lute played by cherubs with opium's wings.
And an ardent love, a warm desire was aroused in my chest because of the effigy, like unbearable flame.
And I cried, and laughed in euphoria; and my body burned in ardour because of the effigy, and I loved her.
And the effigy caressed my head while I sucked and licked her sex, in a transcendental union; with a feverish robustness I took her to a climax of joy and fullness...
And in an orgasm of light, more blinding than the lightning of the skies in the summer nights of the German jungles; in a multiangular, complex, multiform, diverse flash of delight, both entities, the cavern an my dream disappeared; unveiling the delicate thread of the awakening.
