Capricious

16 - Experimental Party Pleasure

"By believing passionately in something that still does not exist, we create it. The nonexistent is whatever we have not sufficiently desired."
- Franz Kafka

But the window is black, and all I see through it is me staring right back.

Still my mind and body get turned on by different things. Such that I do not know what my body likes and cannot feel what my mind wants.

Collecting things to say, inquiring into lives, for want to say more, for want to seem more.

Settling sideways, a ship without sails. Shading times. Too lost to connect the pathways set still, set planes away.

Thrusting tongues, treading water under the bridge. Laughing kisses so palpably sweet.

A sexually sweet combination, humorous altitudes, happy tears. Everything up close so much more refined, so much more marvellous. That took its time. Warm flames cushion detensing muscles. Floating in the air so giggly.

It's alright to be weird here, it's encouraged. Such a place where madness is revered, to be the craziest your imagination can let rip. Free skydiving through living, living every second in a thunderous rush of trippy bliss. Smoke that is not coming out my mouth, I see it anyway, like a frosty breath of snowy air.

So clearly up so close, creaming pink on lavishing blue. Parties blink round the stereo. Creative drives dragging me through states of mind several at a time.

Concrete crisps starring scars against my skin. Prepping solitary strategies, surging snow filled sex. Beautiful bright flashing light flicks fright loving up to me. Attractions I shouldn't be visiting. Never capturing what everyone else is thinking, small spells upon gratuitous fade.

Marshmallow caking of my abundant limbs, dazzling all over the floor. Super ceilings, tender gruff faces, and I'm just sexying up right now. Obscene elation expressed through laughter and pride. Delivering tastes of excellence and fragrant herb to the respiration of my inner mind.

What I can't understand is why I exercise these delights in such madder ways. Shivering yawns and mass-marketed unicorns. Shapes unseen before jellying, edges melting away, odd tear-stroking canisters plucking toys from prams.

Dribbling juices of flavour and flows of air, toxic plumes of wonder, of sonorous old magic and bubbling thunder. Dare I escape, for however longer I'm sure. Bleeding surrogates reading through blended scripts with euphoric satiation, empire's sacred ambrosia felt vibrating under the pant of my breath. Nuclear excitement. Tokens retained and soon lost, because even here there is no one extreme enough with which to share.

Dimensions refracted off expressions of ultra-violet light, planing between cracks in nature, through others bubbling in cauldrons still.

The drive for conservation becomes prime directive after survival has been assured. Infinite miniature steps of evolution. We're breaking off and no one has a clue. Starry skies of ceiling, the edge remains, I'm still slushed, tingling random. Dashing gales inside, threatening to hijack my mind. Spun off to experience more. I may not be human, but I'm getting better at drawing the line with the distinct differences that lie within. My eyes tire, don't wish to see anymore, memory full. Something massages my soul meanwhile.

All the magic. I know I lived it. Though little how. Exploits as fragile in my mind as a deep sleeping dream. I remember flying, gliding through mountains, spinning and the world carrying me with it. Above fields and forests, snows and streams. Pure rock and living both. The adrenaline wipes away the fear, I become invincible. I just have to keep bending to the fall and the wind. Then the path breaks clean, dimension cut through like cheese. Sudden I've broken through, without quite thinking what it is I will do. Now I'm gliding through planes of the world. Matter does not matter. I fly through earth and water, through metal and rock. Through trees and waterfalls, lakes and rivers. I breathe in their terms, the slow erosion of stone and the pure photosynthesis of leaves. The solid crust of planets. Then I am through, I have fallen below it all. It all shrinks above me. Nothing but empty space. I'm not breathing, I can't. Just further from the setting of everything than ever. The light collapses in on itself, and there is only darkness.

It got trapped somewhere between I don't have the memories and I don't have the words.

Raw atmosphere, almost pure living, judgement crumbling away and a stir below fear that wants me to stay. Intrigue into this mode of living, absorbing hows, learning whats, answering whys. Other worlds are too far away to consider. It is a mind cleaning thing, to take a break from forced living, that escape is a freedom, a chance to breathe deep. Possibilities of living pure return, happiness that might arise from a purgatorial sleep beneath layers of family, work, responsibility. Accumulating pleasures taken from wisdom, still building from old and new to create fusions wicked and tempting and true.

Disintegrating anxiety, fears of the past melted away. Desire to join in certain strangeness where I never considered stepping before. The constant uneasiness fades to the background. Emotions here for me to play with. These people, connected by a shared sin, we all are in this. To have such a thing in common, that is derided or frowned upon by most. Other pathways open from this, however simple, there is always some beauty to see. Other paths hence perhaps, even if they are not ready to ride alongside me just yet. But still there lies distance, grown from the uncommon, the difference in culture, in person. I'll never live anywhere. Cursed to sample everything, but never to engage completely, never to live with others forever more. Worlds come to walls, for I have no one truly that will take me further through any one.

How hazy reality has become. A slow, almost horizontal slide. You tell yourself it matters, but your muscles dare not agree. Focus remains on pain and vice. Your mind dissimilates your lives, breaks them up, each return becomes a struggle. A difficulty adapting, when every little thing is changed, you lose track. You begin to wonder if you are the same person still.

By visit's end, lying in the dark, to faded music's cushion, uncontrollable flakes tearing down my cheeks, pure living joy setting fires, melting eyes and a perfect sleep.