Dreamscape, Imagination, Mindgames And The World Within


Everybody has a secret world inside of them. 

All of the people of the world, I mean everybody. No matter how dull and boring they are on the outside, inside them they’ve all got unimaginable  magnificent wonderful   stupid   amazing  worlds.

Not just one world.

 Hundreds of them.

 Thousands maybe.

Quote copyright-Neil Gaiman

Dreams make me endure the reality. Imagination lets me stay sane. The world inside my mind is where I retreat at times when the world becomes too much to bear. That is the world I live in most of  the time.  A private dreamscape, a virtual reality world where time has no meaning. Where the five senses work magically unrestrained. It is a world where dreams get realized, even the wildest of them, where passion are fed, love blossoms, fears take shapes and walk around. Where there are deep crevices full of secrets, dark alleys where thoughts stumble upon each other, strange voice glide past each other, there are ditches that reek of pain. A world where ghosts from the yesteryear wander freely rising from the graveyard of memories buried over the time.  It is a world where I am invented and reinvented driven by uncontrolled fantasy, a world where stories are born.

 A world with constellations of wants and needs, hopes and dreams, laments and longings,  a surreal universe of uninhabited stars yearning for life. No emotion is superfluous there, everything is an all engulfing whirlpool. Everything is larger than life. Raw, naked, stripped off all inhibitions,  everything free of boundaries reality imposes. I live here, in my enchantment. protected by own fairy tale, by love. Here time is different, unmeasured. It’s sunsets and sunrises painted in celestial colors. It is a world where I can smell, touch , hear, see everything that can not be smelled, heard,seen or touched in real life. I can give each object, each person, each place any dimension, any form, any kind of existence that I desire. The boundary between the animate and inanimate is in itself animate ( says KS) and it holds true here. Here I am the master weaver, craftsman, a dreamer, a storyteller, a lover with a raw sort of vulnerability, a woman I try hard to be in reality and manage only a fraction of it and sometimes I am just me, a form, unchained by sexuality. A shape shifter.

Here love is an exploding cigar we willingly smoke. Bodies are chiseled and carved in shape of desire. They feed on each other passionately, ravenously, sensually in the midst of all the silent noise that surrounds them, unaffected.Here love is not flowery, poetic, measured and hesitant. It is fierce, pulsating, graphic, full of fluidity and madness. Nothing comes close to the love we make inside our head. Ethereal, adventurous and wildly stimulating all at the same time.

The mind also has a dark world lurking to suck you in. It is devious. It can rage passionate fires and it can also drown you in the deepest of oceans full of pain. Shred you into tiny pieces, cut your veins and bleed you to a slow death. It can ravage your heart, nibble on it or tear it like a carnivore, it can throw you off-balance and hurl you down a narrow, gaping hole. It can strip you naked and whiplash you till your skin burns crimson, black and blue. The wounds it gives don’t heal, they come alive and spit lava. It cuts you down to your size more effectively than reality does.

Then there are dreams, you won’t understand if you aren’t a dreamer, lucid dreams filled with pieces of super reality which ooze out as revelations, a world within a world. A gobbling kaleidoscopic. It is amazing how we are tricked into believing reality of these world within by our mind. It is the creator. I think my mind has highly optimized memory channels which store data for later review. Vivid, lucid dreams where one is in control of that which in fact is just imagination, is something not everyone possess.

It is here that  the reality’s image is mirrored in absurdity & strange connections, I try to link them till I the find the pattern I seek. The process is continuous.

There are callings, revelations, symbols, voices and spirits. leading to inner deeper layers of this world which is a merger of dreamscape and imagination. One lives and dies and lives again here. Time travel becomes a reality. past, present and future merge. Mind becomes a canvas where every micro second the patterns change. The fine line between imagination and dreams becomes even finer with people like me.

And if you thought that is the end of it, you are wrong.

There are those demonic depths of mind where world as sensitive as a lunatic’s mind form and dissolve. Where revenge is plotted, throats are slit, where occult resides in its most primal form. Sometimes one is sucked by it at others it remains quietly breathing under the more calmer serene layer. The paradoxical existence of both and our ability to create a balance is what life is about, in real world or in the mindscape.

These are not the only world within, every moment new worlds are conceived in the mind womb ready to launch forth at any given time and take control. Everything emerges from three base emotions – Love, Hate and Fear.

Everything one runs from is in the head lurking in one of the worlds inside.

If I could just stand one night alone in my mind…. The thought itself is orgasmic.

You and Me – Sound


~Speak to me in those warm tones of elegance that only you possess

Wilfred Mellers

Today I am thinking of a million things that would take years to write. Things about love, about longing, about dreams. Things about you and me.

Your voice, even from such distance, holds me captive. It makes me tremble with bitter-sweet longings. Like a fawn feather it gently churns the milk of my heart and creates deeper play than the words can create. Behind my ear the temperature rises. The warm flush slowly spreads through me. A musky tickle along the spine.  It’s the fuel that feeds me, nourishes me, gives me life. It’s not just a sound, it has a soul, a body, unadorned, deep, rich, sensuasly splendid. Sultry, like a summer breeze. From across the miles it reaches out, touches me, sweeps me off my feet, lifts me to the heights unknown as I lose myself to it and surrender to those brief periods of orgasmic bliss.

There is a comfort in sadness, quietness in tumult, rest in weariness, hope in despair each time you speak. You occupy everything and when the conversation ends I can feel that something has shifted in the air. There is a strange stillness… Vulnerable turbulent stillness and a deep ,bone buzzing, heart pounding feeling envelopes me.

We have nothing but words. Written and spoken. All the senses revolve around these. Even with this distance your voice is your presence in my life , within me. It takes shape making your presence more poignant in your absence. I see , feel , touch you through your voice. Strange as it may seem, human voice can either move you or leave you cold. Yours is a voice I carry with me. It is like the water from  deep forests , a life spring to a scorched rock, that’s me.

I tremble like stroked violin as it makes love to me until the most beautiful music wafts from us, seizing my imagination, affecting everything.  I crave for the touch of your fingers and your voice is substance in  times of hunger like these.

I hunger for your sleek laugh, the words soaked in whiskey. They intoxicate and make me swoon even though we don’t talk love. There is a lot I listen to in between the spaces of our conversation.  When you talk fast I know there are millions of things unsaid swirling in a whirlpool inside your heart. Trying hard to get past the mundane trivialities of daily struggle to live, yearning to come out.  I know many times you do not really say what you are saying and can’t say what you did not. When you stop, I know you curse for messing it up and I smile even though it leaves me burning with want of you. I wonder if I will ever touch you ,but with these words.

So, talk to me

all that have in your head

as long as you can

as much as you can

Talk to me of your success, your failures

share all moments of joy and pain

of turbulence and stability

of loneliness and wants

of untold desires, of unsaid secrets

Let me be the sponge and

absorb it all and

unburden your heart

empty it of  things

gathered over the years

and make new spaces

for love to bloom

talk to me as insanely

as passionately as you can

as often as time permits

reveal yourself to me

shed all inhibitions

let there be nothing between our voices , our words

let your delicious breath tenderly stroke my the skin behind my ears

unravel me, unfurl me, bit by bit

till I am nothing but you

and you

nothing but me

say my name

let it swim inside me

so that one by one

all my pieces fall into place

let your voice bring me closer

There will be beautiful silences to share

when we will be face to face

but till then

let all my senses merge in one

let me breathe the sound of your love

and live

Read all the YOU AND ME  posts here