Member-only story
The Author
Once Follower, reader of sorts, taking Quill in hand
Sitting on the mountaintop, contemplating existence, observing the storylines, told, and untold. With every breath, a new scene, clearing palette given the same, the Author witnesses an unfolding of realities from past to future sense.
A gust of wind, more like a horizontal cyclone, tornadic proportions sweeping through valley’s gorge, all the while conversing with Smokey Joe, the Author remains observant. Witnessing townships, planets, creative existence birthed and reborn, breathing in familial traumatic treasures collective embrace, breathing out universal love cleansing palate, expatiate painful feeling of sorts.
Wetting quill’s tip salivary kiss, sharpening gaze over life’s basin, preparatory involvement, prior re-writing story retracing creative tale, through the thick and thin, darkened shadow of death, recounting and recanting thus before.
Firstly a great fear enters a trade of thought, consuming our narrative, telling false tales of comets, cupids, and big dippers taught to us by dictatorships and dogmatic control. The Prince spelling out as Machiavelli retorts, creating illusions, gaining control, binding subjects into submission, and servitude to mass consumption, sickness prevails exponentially.
Cyclone called from valley’s gorge entering thoracic walls, dantian and crown aiding force, melting mountainside, feeling hands of the many. Frozen in time, fear-ridden, what if I die miserably? Heart pounding, fear of heart attack commence, irresponsible father forth tracing steps, sent to the island of misfit toys.
Battle in the mind commencing at highest of magnitude, the brink of psychosis at hand, yes, yes, let us lose our mind! Great Spirit passing wind external auditory, whispering conversation, “What are you afraid of? What is the worst that could happen?”
I could die!
“Do you think you die? While yes the body will eventually decay, passing like a living compost pile, merely returning to the void, fertilizing and awaiting a rebirth of sorts, it remains eternal. Here let me show you…”
Traveling past existence, feeling pain and suffering of all generations, specifically and precisely seven generations as…
