I opened my eyes and for the very
first time, I truly understood the essence of magic. For the very first time, I
felt bewildered, swept off to a land far, far away. I felt submerged in rivers
of honey. My hair soaked with heavy drops of sweet cocoa and my nostrils
widened to the smell of exotic flowers, of raw nature and of weightless air.
Golden shades flickered all
around and bright glittering sparkles surrounded me. I swam effortlessly in the
thin air and flew between tall flamboyant trees in search of nothing.
I encountered many faces I never
knew and few that have forever been encrusted in my memory, since the beginning
of time, since the shaping of nothing, since the molding of emptiness, of
frugality, of thoughtlessness.
In the light of shimmering, void
stars, I instinctively drew my way. I used imaginary silky brushes and satiny
wonderful palettes of colors never discovered.
Unripe, beautiful fruits fell off
barren trees and gathered around me, pinning me down to rest with their ever so
soft stems. Beds of feathery flowers welcomed me in the comfort of their illusion
and the sweet breeze whispered lies of no language into my ears.
My eyes thrived to open up, to succumb
to the magic, to see the wonders all around, to swallow the sweetness of dreams
and the end of what was never there, what was never here, what will never be.
Tremendous was the word that kept
occurring to the safety of what was left of my shaky, shady consciousness. Ts
and Rs and S's kept rolling on my heavy tongue until the vowels left me and
joined the shiny birds chirping over me.
I heard a sound so peculiar, so
sincere. I strove to retain it, but the birdlike creatures kept hovering over
it, collecting the vowels and stealing the truth.
I closed my eyes again and
concentrated on the only glimpse of the already thrifty image I had of you. I
concentrated, I focused so hard, but that ferociously friendly wolf that brought
me here kept draining you away. It kept digging into my soul, into the roots of
my evil, into the very branches of my existence. He dug sweetly, yet fully. He
enchanted me with more glitter, with more tall trees, with more honey, until I
felt one with the flowing stream, until I took the rising trunks as my shelter
and collected sparkles in the hems of my imaginary dress.
My hands surrendered and stopped
chasing volatile vowels as Bs and Rs and Ls voluntarily left me while my heavy
breath tried to say bring me back, leave me alone.
My unconscious now belongs to a
beautiful wolf, living against all odds in the driest of deserts, only drinking
honey from the rivers of my imagination. This is how it tastes to succumb to
the sweetest yielding, to the magic of the best charlatans and to the will of
the way, leading to nothing.
