index

Stage 1.

Sunshine.

The smell of the air is enough for one to close their eyes and lay in a bed of roses. The passing of fragrance through the breaking leaves. Smiles and frowns and endless breakdowns of thoughts to muse the ears.. where time can only be placed on backbones of flying horses...

Stage 2.

Thought to Thorn.

The tremors shake the ground. Visions of the past creep up to grasp the mind... When did the confusion begin and where does it end? It can only seem that the world is breaking down. The world does permit these things and these things happen now. But why so calm... the air still smelling sweet... The world ends...

Stage 3.

It can only be so clear.
Recollections of the darkness.... It is very dark. It is black... Or is this just the perception of black... The world can be white but in the mind...only this void.... What are these images... these flashes, and now fading... now a glimmer portrait of the real. Where is the sunset through the clouds? A false reality to dilute the mind of what is to come.. and where do we go? and where does this take us... to darkness or is there some light... is there a voice...

Stage 4.

Open your eyes.....

Of all the faded pictures or lost memories... all you can recall are the ones that have just passed in the night. This is your reality turned fantasy. Or should I say, the fantasy turned life. The waking moment. The moment of transition. To wake. To work. To play. To love. To lie. To forget. To start the winding down to another moment of transition....

Imagine this moment of waking like birth... from one state to another. Purity. Life. Experience. From a dream to a reality...

Now image death the same....