Xibalba

[Lia]

I don't exactly know how to explain what I'm going to post since it's basically almost an illogical, undefined shape of thoughts in a mix of personal history and flood of dreams. The almost present shifting of narration and tense are meant to be, as well as the cuts in between the storyline since my stream of consciousness isn't too well formed.

Finish it...

I can still sketch the first of your words to have entered my poetic memory at that time when I felt as light as the air I was breathing, and even now as I’m strapped down with an ardor that weighs more than my soul I can still hear that laughter in the crisp cold of winter and see my hand help you get up from that gray tinted snow. That portal you mentioned was never created, but the link had been that night, gripping now to the beginning of the nod of links that create my very own existence. A charming, irritating, blissful vertigo blooming vertically into a tree of life as beautiful as the world underneath us and its entrance, the passage in Orion’s belt .
How everything came to be is a fuzzy process that grew unintentionally but was still well cared for by the hands of two people that wished for it. Like letting your mind be joined at your feet and travel inside to conquer everything about yourself as himself by the theory that Platon once formulated involving one itself as a whole.
Looking back at it feels like peeking from behind a door at a mammoth sized maze that seems to have started growing in lives before. Time passes quickly but even quicker things happen that change everything forever. I would like to believe that there are no such things as coincidences but in the same time I don’t want to let pass such an idea that my choices have been made by something or somebody else, even worse that they are somehow genetically inscribed.
I believe words limit and don’t do justice in a way to certain feelings like love, joy or sadness, especially when they’re not even uttered but thought, in spite of the overwhelming desire to have them uttered.
My world is a topsy-turvy image of what it used to be without you, sitting on a hill joined by that sweet company wouldn’t feel boring anymore, but peaceful in a complicated hybrid emotion like sleeping with one’s dream.

I have had my hand at solving Rubik's cube, but that stream of patience never settled its float inside of me for so long as to actually give me enough time to crack the dragon's skull; that until one day. I was walking down one night on cardiac serpentines, minding my own thoughts as I kept them locked in colorfully patterned balloons, holding them by their bright red string. Spheres of light interspersed the various pathways that spread to the hills, their orange glow warming the ground above which they floated. My barefoot feet were delighted by that flavor, gnawed at by the cold and embraced by the tingling sensation of pure light. The cherry trees were swaying in the chilly wind, and as I approached the mirror of water that led to it, their petals were blown away by a powerful gust, now settling softly around its heavily armored trunk. I noticed you kneeling next to the Ceiba tree, gazing at Xibalba, but I did not rush to embrace you, no, I fell in fascination in the blanket of petals, my hair coming down my shoulders as I closed my eyes. I kept staring at you like at a ghost of lives past, looking in those reptilian eyes I could’ve recognized in the beginning of time. That’s when Rubik’s cube opened itself to me, a small piece of universe encased in a space loop ever moving, ever shifting in its stillness. The invisible bars of confinement, the memory of its imagination.

And as I turned that way I moved logic in all my dreams, that sometimes did shift to nightmares even in full development of hanging gardens in the desert or lakes bordered by medieval walls. Around them sidewalks, on which ladies in umbrella dresses often enjoyed taking strolls, had been paved with golden bricks. Their plastic smiles stung me through my humble drop waist dress as I walked past them, advancing counterclockwise to the rest of the world. I pretended not to care how their slender bodies managed to summon the waters by performing gracious movements I was not able of and wandered through the forest, where my faithful pond awaited. I stumbled onto the root of a severed tree trunk and fell flat on my face, close enough to the margin of the water to feel the dents created by the shield. For millennia I have touched the shell of a transparent egg that hosted a translucent liquid similar to water, there was something in it that called for my recollection of its existence, of a future in the past. My fingers lightly stroked the surface and then I lay in shock. What happened that made it different this time…? For a mere few seconds the jellyfish-like exterior reacted to my fingers by creating ripples, starting from my index as the epicenter and spreading evenly in circles. It was almost as if breathing, a thin layer of muscle moving rhythmically to intake life, to experience being me in that odd moment like exchanging bodies within a single touch. I lit up a hookah and through that eerie blue smoke I stared back at the now motionless nucleus, fascinated by the prospect of what genesis would arise from that silent spinning cauldron. It grew within me, from the center in between my stomach and my liver, like an up lifting cello concerto in E minor, steadily, building up then exploding with such shear intensity that I started crying. I realized in that moment that I watched my own birth, the journey that started at the root of the tree of life. I was me, and you and all of us, and I was seeing through the eyes of millions and had a million pair of hands to grasp reality in a million breaths.

I lay next to you on our bed, half covered by the white sheets, and I stroked your cheek lightly, you opened your eyes and I gaze inside for that full blown second to look for the mechanism that made you tick. All I could see was blue smoke… The lights went out.

[Lia]

Stay with me

I was staring at the alarm clock that sat on my night stand as if at six o’clock sharp it would spring legs, arms and a tiny little head and start to dance while singing. I put my hand on the stop button before it could become the reason for the usual morning havoc. The sheets were ruffled after not so much of a good night sleep and so was my hair considering the reflection on my reading glasses. But after all, how accurate could that be, it was always all over the place. I smiled and with a good reason, my mind still drifting off at the thought of your touch on my skin… I bit my lower lip and looked to see if you were still asleep, and so you were. After nudging away the temptation of mercilessly changing that with a well positioned pillow, I changed strategies and decided it’s best you got a good rest. So I kissed the back of your neck as softly as I could, an action that triggered the butterfly effect, and walked away into the balcony hoping for a invigorating breath of cool air. It was raining but I didn’t back away, I let the lashes strip me down to my soul.

Once I compared you to a good book, one you wouldn't want to take your hands and eyes off, but on that day I realized that was because you were a never-ending story, one in which I played a big part.

I was dripping wet as I emerged from the shower and went straight for the kitchen where I grabbed a pen and a sheet of paper before I sat at the table. The message was finished shortly after that, and my plan could finally start to unravel, at least I hoped everything would go accordingly. Half an hour later and I closed the door smoothly behind me, taking with me only the umbrella.

While I was still full of wanderlust, I was no longer restful. There would be anywhere, and anywhere would be there, as long as my heart was with me.

The gallery was full of strangers lurking about, people of high interest with a pure passion of being seen rather than see. I was wearing a long, black dress for the occasion and tried to avoid having to shake hands with everybody, or explain what concepts were behind my photographs, by hiding in the dark room. It was my special place where I could be alone only with my work, and still never feel lonely, I had all their stories to get submerged into. Some of them I never exposed, my selfishness showing through that; I wouldn’t want them to be spoiled by being looked at and analyzed with unworthy eyes. I had fresh prints put up to dry, a new black and white collection, scenes representative for the human concept of trial and error. I have seen a place where death and forgetfulness thrived, but even under those ruins a spark of life was gleaming where man had abandoned all hope and left. Clothes left to dry in the timeless wind hanged onto wires in front of opened windows. The air had no taste or odor, the city’s eyelids were closed and it was weeping silently. The silence was almost deafening, a mute echo of a communist spring. Those images said more than all the words could say, it was almost unbearable to be human and part of the mistake.



Inca o mica parte a lucrarii mele, sper sa va placa mai mult decat prima. Orice critici sunt binevenite ^^.

[Me_Samy]

hi..i'm andreea..sorry but i can't leave you a comment because you speak english..and i'm romanian..meabe you are a romanian too but you like english ..ori perhaps i am wrong..but people on this forum can't understand what you write here..so ..sorry but i can say my opinion...
i don't know what to do in this moment ..but.. you will find a solution.
bye ..see you
:X:X
now i see that you are a romanian..please post in romanian ..to understand with all

[Unia]

^ Mai, aici poti posta orice creatie, indiferent in ce limba. Sunt foarte multi useri care inteleg foarte bine engleza si carora poate le-a placut ce a scris mittwoch aici. Nu poti sa spui tu ciuva in ce limba sa posteze, isi da si singur seama daca are cititori sau nu. Ea a scris asta in engleza si vrea sa o impartaseasca cu noi, nu o poate traduce ca se pierde intelesul. (nu-mi vine sa cred ca ai scris in engleza crezand ca mittwoch nu-i romanaca o_O)

Si daca tot sunt aici, sa spun cate ceva si despre creatia asta. N-am inteles titlul, dar banuiesc ca are legatura cu restul operei. Mi imi place foarte mult ce ai scris tu aici. N-am apucat sa citesc tot pentru ca pe langa faptul ca e destul de abstract mai e si in engleza si asta imi ingreuneaza cititul, mai ales la ora 22. Oricum e genul meu de lucrare, mereu mi-au placut povestile astea care nu pun accentul pe story-line, ci mai mult pe descriere, ganduri si sentimente. Te descuci foarte bine in engleza, mi-ar placea sa pot scrie asa ca tine. Desi inteleg toate cuvintele, eu n-as fi putut sa scriu asa de fain. Promit ca o sa citesc tot si o sa ma intorc.

[Lia]

Andreea sau cum te-o chema, sunt romanca.

Unia, multumesc mult, sper ca vei mai trece pe aici.

Together we will live forever

As soon as our fingers connected our bodies disintegrated in a myriad of tiny, bright red and orange marbles that stood floating in the air, some darker or lighter than others, resembling the way shadows and highlights played to form our shapes. The marbles hovered as I extended my hand to touch your chest, hesitating for a second before coming in contact again. There was a noise like bees swarming and I felt my entire being yearning to be bonded with yours, like two rivers being brought together into a waterfall. We collided and the sparks that rose from the impact were colored like fireworks. We swayed into the wind, golden silhouettes of glowing warmth with no earthly roots, living an astral life of avatars. We travelled the Universe playing with the forces of creation, decorating it accordingly with giant clouds of dust and stars, so that we may gaze at them as we floated down the Milky Way. Where corners seemed to be dull and dark we weaved nebulas like webs and hanged them in the empty space. We molded clay, painted it green, gave it a hearth and named it our home planet…

Both of us lay awake on the floor, our hands holding tight, as the sound of the city buzzing brought us back to reality. The magic was still there encircling us as we spoke in the secret language of dreams, more real than real, more alive than anything else. And then just like a flash the room sunk into vertigo, falling in the silver and scarlet depths of sleep.

The smell of the ocean and the waves crashing down on the beach, wetting my toes, woke me up in a beat. You were still unconscious but breathing regularly, drawn in your own dream. I got up and looked around but all I could see were the murky gray shades of the sky, the ocean and the dunes. My long white robe was fluttering in the breeze while I walked along the shore, thin ribbons of sand following my feet in snake like movements. I commanded them with my fingers and they danced as if I was playing the flute, stirring them in a game with the wind. The strips started forming a cylinder as I walked back to you, and with their use I lifted you up in the air, bringing you close to me. Your hair and skin smelled like cinnamon and honey, like you’ve been bathed in nectar which belonged to the gods of Olympus. I kissed you tenderly and felt the taste of berries on your lips, the scent of forests of the midnight, somewhere south of Wonderland and west of Shangri-La. I bent my knees and prompted them in the sand, resting your head on my lap with care, trying not to awake you. The ocean was getting agitated, and with each wave that broke on the shore it seemed to be getting furious, it was just like an army of marine centaurs galloping towards what I believed was us. I heard a long wailing from the distance tearing the sky at great speed then dying down completely. The clouds had cumulated and their shades had changed towards a black-blue that looked enraged and menacing, swirling now like a maelstrom. We were trapped like birds in a storm, and as soon as I realized that the cry came again, but it was highly pitched compared to the first… It was the song of the sirens, for I was taking their prince. I planted a seed carefully and placed two of my fingers on your forehead, chanting a few verses, while circles of white light formed around my hand. Nothing happened for a second, but then you slowly opened your eyes, making sense of my face through the haze. I shot a quick look at the waters that were receding towards the deep, and realized almost instantly what was about to happen. With a finger I motioned you to keep quiet, told you to trust me and then our lips were sealed in a kiss that had the passion of a first. Both of us rose to our feet, our clothes moving frantically in the violent winds, ready to confront the strong tsunami wave that was advancing towards us. I let my eyelids close as I held your hand firmly and started to sing a melody I had learned from an ancient doll; after the first few notes the sand shifted and started covering our bodies from our toes, going up our legs, forming a thick crust like the trunk of a tree, spiraling until we drew our last breath, embraced until the end. From then on it formed branches that looked as if they were reaching for that blue, blue sky behind the clouds. Then out of nowhere lightning shot down on the now still formation of sand, and the tree turned to crystal, glowing indigo or azure, and with that the storm died away, like it had never formed. The sun was now once again a blaze rising up from horizon, after being hidden in the depths of the sea; orange strips of light now papered the sky setting in a beautiful dawn.

It is love that transforms us in the deepest of ways, being the purest shape of metamorphosis.

[BloodyInnocence]

so...what can I say? what should I say?
Nu stiu...din punctul meu de vedere a fi considerata o englezoaica nu este un lucru rau...bine avand in vedere modul in care s-a exprimat andreea sau cum s-o numi ea in engleza...nu stiu daca poti considera asta un compliment.Anyway...sa revin la minunata ta poveste. imi place ca nu descrii din prima personajul ci arunci anumite indicii pe parcursul povesti care nu fac altceva decat sa captiveze si mai mult cititorul. modul in care povestesti, in care descrii imi aducea aminte de o persoana high, not necessarly on drugs but on life itself that begins to describe its life but because of the state in which he/she is the story takes a fantastic form, something full of magic and emotion. dar persoana aceasta este trezita brusc la realitate si nu stiu de ce, dar am impresia ca aceasta euforie din primele capitole se va transforma in dezamagire si disperare. cat despre nume, am impresia ca este o constelatie creata de tine. un fel de loc de refugiu pentru personajul tau? corect me if i`m wrong.
imi place cum scrii in engleza, sper sa reusesc si eu sa ajung la nivelul tau intr-o zi.
De abia astept urmatorul capitol si te rog, du povestea pana la sfarsit ar fi pacat sa te impotmolesti la jumatatea drumului:P

[Lia]

Thank you, Fallen Angel. Xibalba este o stea din constelatia Orion. As for the story itself, it ain't your particular one, you'll see.

The last man
Didyouevergethighonadream?

A swarm of whispers assaulted me as I regained consciousness, awoken to the feel of damp soil and sight of blinding lights that swiveled madly around my head. The inner workings of my mind seemed to step out of control and I couldn’t lift myself from the ground without some major effort to concentrate on what I was about to do. Halfway through I fell back again, unable to keep my balance; from the outside I probably looked like a retarded, third rate clown trying to set up some sort of scheme. Just that I didn’t find it hilarious, yet I was still laughing uncontrollably for some very odd reason. It seemed that I was acting contrary to how I felt, as if my own body told me I was doing it wrong.

The world started to fade in and I could make out the shape of a merry-go-round that was spinning slowly in reverse, its ponies grinning backwards at me eerily. The darkness covered everything else but my silhouette and the carousel, whose sinister rewinding melody was giving me the willies. I approached the rotating circular platform, drawn in by some bizarre attraction that made my legs move without actually being ordered by the brain to do so. A feeling of anxiousness mixed in with happiness was crawling under my skin, setting my heart into its right place, before I went for a ride. For a mere moment the looping circus music stopped and so did the flying horses, and I found myself staring at the peculiar design of the whole machinery. It reminded me terribly of a circular tin box whose walls were painted to look like a carrousel.

Cap ou pas cap?

I mounted one of the animals, one that resembled a crossbreed between a zebra and a unicorn, and waited for the curtain to rise so I could enjoy the show. Nothing seemed to happen, but before I could finish that thought, I felt moving counterclockwise on the rhythm of the same song that made my skin crease. The lights created a path and as the speed of the carrousel increased, the horse began to expand, its wooden legs cracking like ice revealing two pairs of real hooves ready to gallop as if the horse’s life depended on it. I raised my head a bit, only to find my face buried into a soft silvery mane, which under the winds of time looked like a flowing winter. I moved about in the saddle trying to get a glimpse of the Universe around me.

A gray smoke gave shape to video-like sceneries, which looked like three dimensional memories sprawled from one’s subconscious in a very random way, some better contoured than others. I took control of the harness and heaved the horse to stop so I could take a better look, but it only slowed the pace, enough though for me to make sense of the ethereal appearances. It dawned on me that they were oddly familiar, somewhere deep inside I had already made the connection, yet it still had to surface for me to realize what they actually were. I caught the sight of a smile with the corner of my eye and turned in its direction to see the scene unfold. Somebody was getting inside a taxi with a regret and sadness that sunk in my soul like an echo, oscillating in the rhythm of a clock in pendulant motions. She put her palm on the window looking at him through the cold glass as the sound of the engine came roaring. The focus shifted to a close up on him and he smiled, using his fingers to form the shape of a heart. Without any warning her heart went thumping and I put a palm to my chest feeling mine beat in the same exhilarating way, pumping enough endorphins to make me feel like I was floating heavily on a sea of sand. Just like that the wind blew away the smoke, the flimsy image disappearing without a trace in the night sky. Whatever it had been I was sure I wanted to know more since it had something to do with me.

Continuing to ride through the vast pace that was filled at every pace with shifting grayness, I kept absorbing various emotions with each vapor that dissipated, emotions that filled me to the point where they were streaming down my face like fused rivers. I couldn’t make sense of what I was feeling anymore. But by then I knew well that those were partly my memories and the rest, imaginative scenes of what I wished would become things that I would cross over later in life.

There was me, then I met you and then it became us; with all the good times and the hardship, the sorrows and joys and everything else that merged into our love story. The white nights when I felt like only seeing you would make me fall asleep into a very sweet slumber; the sleepless nights when I would lie awake to watch you drift into dreamland; the feverous nights when we’d make love and then fall asleep together. The long stories of days and distance and words and breaths, dreams and desires, grins and deviousness.

The link.

There was one last vision waiting for me right ahead so I nudged the horse gently to keep walking calmly in that direction. It snorted and I could not help but smile, anxious to feel my own legs again. It stopped a few inches away and letting go off the hinges I got off, setting my feet on the infinite blackness that felt so light and deep.

You were standing there, smile on your face, your lips moving even though I could not hear what you were saying. My eyes were wavering, yet I came even closer to shadowy form that was you, one hand already reaching towards your face, fingers about to touch your skin. It felt so real, yet it wasn’t, it couldn’t be, you were so far away…

I couldn’t resist and jumped to embrace you as tightly as I could, knowing that you would disappear like all the other mists have. Your arms came closing me in, and I looked up in the kind of wonderful shock and buried my head in your chest.

Blue and orange flames entangled us and the entire world faded away again.
The surroundings transformed into something that looked like the Arrivals part of the airport. We were holding each other for real.
That single moment was perfect.

Slept so long without you…

[BloodyInnocence]

Oh My God! This is wonderful! I really love how you describe the scenes and the feelings and the metaphors that you create. Imi cer mii de scuze ca mi-au trebuit 6 luni sa dau peste continuarea la aceasta poveste atat de emotionanta si de fascinanta. Ma frapeaza stilul tau de a povesti anumite scene si de abia astept sa vad ce se va intampla in continuare. Sper ca nu te-ai lasat de aceasta poveste ca as fi extraordinar de dezamagita daca te-ai lasat de ea, chiar daca mi-au trebuit 6 luni sa dau de ea din nou.
Astept cu nerabdarea continuarea.