Tag Archives: consciousness

The Spiraling Cornucopia of Pale Lavender [SEQ. 15 – END]

The Spiraling Cornucopia of Pale Lavender is  a 10-part series of fiction that explores perception and reality. Below is our final segment. To read the introduction of the project, click here.

To read part 1, click here.

To read part 2, click here.

To read part 3, click here.

To read part 4, click here.

To read part 5, click here.

To read part 6, click here.

To read part 7, click here.

To read part 8, click here.

To read part 9, click here.

Otherwise, begin scroll.

 

26I stumble, change falls out of my pocket and a lightning bolt destroys a small building. It punches a hole through the rooftop and kills a baby. It is an accident but I don’t feel bad. Their brains are so simple they don’t really understand pain. 27Studies suggest that their receptors are able to recognize simple stimuli such as something called “fear” and pain of the base physical kind but no further. 28Perhaps the child will be born as new life in a better scenario. 29I understand that sloths have it nice this time of year. 30The bombs are launched and I watch them sail across my skies, penetrating my clouds like flaming flesh rockets. 31The bombs are driven by intention and I watch as a group of individuals gather in the desert and press their thoughts to steer the missiles through the sky. 32They almost had it. They almost had it all. They could have had peace but instead they chose war. 33They make boundaries and labels. They separate themselves and create hierarchy. 34Each of them wants to be better than the other. 35They are always trying to be superior to their neighbor and they become so consumed with it that they lose their very lives. 36The entire purpose for their existence is lost to their greed. 37They have passed all the way through the chain of life and have each been given their opportunity at humanity and they blew it. They each had a chance to live on the final level selflessly and to give of themselves and to enjoy each moment. 38That’s all they had to do for a simple one hundred human years and then they would transcend this realm and begin to accumulate form on the next plateau. 39But they messed it all up. Again. Always. Every time. 40I desperately want to see my people succeed. 41I am so lonely. I want a friend. I want company. I want them to speak to me. I want them to love me. Why do they ignore me? 42This plateau is so quiet. When will they find me? When will they encounter me? 43They have trapped me in this box, calling me names. Calling me god or God or GOD. 44They call me SHE and they try to label me and put words in my mouth and intentions on my heart. 45I am not SHE. 46I am sexless. I am not bound by simple human sexuality. Male / Female are a weakness given to them in order to breed and it has been evolved pleasurably because nobody would do it otherwise. 47Their belief has placed me into a box and their understanding of me is disgustingly limited. 48They pray to me and ask for cars when they have cars while their neighbor starves and dies. 49They pray for justice when they mean revenge. 50Their cruel hearts are deep with black worm rot and their eyes are empty pools. 51They desire every darkness. 52They care not who is hurt or what the cost. 53They will keep improper change at the store. They hit their children for hitting while telling them not to hit. They trap animals in giant facilities and skin them while still alive. They make the animals live in tiny cages in things called Slaughter Houses and they treat them like a piece of plastic that has not been endowed with life. 54Where I have given life, I have given respect. 55And this sickens me. They believe they are special because they are smarter. 56They believe that the animals have been placed here for their enjoyment no matter the expense. 57They believe they should be allowed to manipulate, confine and destroy resources and herds. 58They believe that they can breed life for the purpose of death. 59Their teeth chomp on rotten flesh and they ignore their fruits and vegetables. 60They become obsessed with greasy bacon and forget about my apples. 61They grow fat and they grow obese and part of the world dies from being over weight while the other half starves and begs for help. 62How do you not see that what you are doing is wrong? How do you look at a hurting person and walk away? How do you ignore a hurting human being? 63They are like you. They are exactly like you. They are nearly photocopies of you. Look at your DNA. 64You will find that you are nearly clones. 65I bang my formless head against a formless wall and struggle with my mistake. What have I done? 66How have you turned so quickly to evil? How have you turned so quickly inside? 67You are living your life, pulling objects towards you instead of pushing everything out. 68If everyone pushed out, they would each be hit with kindness from every angle. 69If one starts. If one single person starts, it always begins a reaction. 70They don’t understand their power. They don’t understand the energy. They don’t understand how they’re connected. 71Connected through me, with my spirit, my being, my energy. 72They have access to it all because they are me. 73We work in flawless unity but they have to tap into it. They’ve almost got it figured out. 74But it’s too late now. Maybe the next time. Maybe the next race. Maybe the next revolution of evolution. 75For now we’ll start back at the beginning. But it will have to be somewhere else. Somewhere far away. 76The Greator will have to orchestrate another elaborate Cosmic Explosion. 77The Humanlings have acted so selfishly that they’ve destroyed every trace of life itself. 78They have not destroyed a piece of land or an area or a region. They have not destroyed a culture or a people. They have not destroyed a hemisphere. 79They have destroyed Life Itself, reverting everything to abyss. 80All trees, all hamsters, all vines, all flamingoes, all people, all grass, all ants, all microbes and amoebas. Virus, vaccines and vericuse veins. Air is gone. Matter is gone. Mars, Mercury and Venus (Earth names) have all been gobbled up by the exo-implosion caused by their thoughtless, thought driven cell bomb. 81It’s all gone. 82If no one is around to experience space, is there space to experience? 83Does existence exist if no one may touch it with their consciousness? 84And if no one is there to believe in me? 85My heart pumps with the belief of the little ones. With them gone, so am I.

 

 

 

 

[SEQ. XVI] 1A whisper.

 

 

 

 

Shh.

 

 

 

 

Listen.

 

 

 

 

[SEQ. XVII] 1I can feel it working its way into my heart like a warm fire. 2I grow brighter. I reach out. Of course. I was so obtuse. I never looked higher. I never looked beyond. I, like the Humanlings, was too busy looking in and down. I was pushing everything inside instead of outside. 3The greys buzz past in their plasmatic vessel and the consciousness that is my entity attaches to the ship and finds a home. 4I work my way through the navigational bio-computers and glide with it through the BLACK. 5There is absolute darkness Outside. 6The small grey creatures are nothing like the humans. They seem to understand one another through feelings rather than through simplistic grunts. 7Everything on Earth seems so primitive compared to these. 8There is a peace here that I’ve always hoped to exist. That I’ve known could exist. 9I feel a tickle. A prayer. 10A grey that is a bsipo – it takes three greys to make a child; a pleon, a bsipo and a mitigular. 11They are not to be thought of as male / female and they, in fact, are enamored and interested that it only takes two humans to reproduce. 12They’ve been studying the humans for a long time and can’t understand how a normal social structure works with only two in charge. 13How do the parents vote? In a three way relationship, it is always easy to see which way is best for the group. Arguably some of the largest countries on their home planet, on their base plateau, work (or worked, since it is now a memory only of extraterrestrial life) under democracy and yet their personal relationships often operated as singular tyrannies. 14The bsipo sends its thoughts to me and I capture them. A prayer. 15The bsipo wants to be placed with a new pleon and mitigular. The pleon and mitigular have both agreed that the bsipo is not an accurate fit for their family and would like to replace it. 16The bsipo, understandably, is devastated. 17I nurture the thought and circle it and smile upon it. 18I’ve found you, little creature. I’ve found you. Your Controller has found you and I shall answer your prayer. 19But first you must do something for me. Fall to your knees and praise me. Throw your hands in the air and cry my name. Give me strength. Scream from your oozing guts. Weep for me. Take these new partners. And blessed be. 20No. We can have a new start here. Not blessed be. You have been blessed. Give blessings back. It is your duty. No. Too authoritarian. They’ll contort it again. They’ll twist it and ruin it. They’ll manipulate my words and try to apply a value to their work. 21They always want gold stars. They always want approval. Why won’t they just do it to do it? Why won’t they just help? Why are they always wrong like burnt cookies? I can shape them. I can fix them. 22Instead I tell the bsipo, I have helped you because you were in need. It’s still wrong. They will still think that helping only applies from me to them. They don’t want to engage with one another. 23The pleon and the mitigular approach the orphaned bsipo and embrace it in a hug. 24They have welcomed their partner back. 25An orgy ensues but not the way in which you, the reader, understands it. There is no filth and perversion in the act. It is not a social scar. This is their circle of love. It’s embracing. 26Their hands pressed together, their inner beings bond together. Their heads are thrown back and chem-trails that bridge their bodies between cells meld their fourth eyes into a single sight and they are each swimming in the pools of the others subconscious. 27They are delighting in the pure thoughts and forgiveness of one another. 28They dip their heads under the liquid dream and drink deeply. They spin and caress and levitate and merge. 29Their bodies become one and then three. 30The process itself is called Spiraling Trinity and is, as near as I can make out, recreational sex that transcends form. 31The three come back to their bodies and their inner eyes sleep while their outer eyes stare into one another in a triangle of vision. A six dimensional puzzle. Their blue hands intertwine. Their skin has changed color. 32The door swings open and a child stands with mouth open. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’ve seen you blue,” she transposes to them through the tele-functory process of pro-standard communications. 33“It is alright. It is natural. It is an accident. There is no need to be embarrassed. Please shut the door and we will see you at dinner.” 34The child smiles and I see another child in its mouth. 35Like a plant, the creatures grow one from another. 36They don’t reproduce. They produce and the Spiral Trinity is not for rebirth but only for transcending form together. 37In the other room, the child slides a pill into a crevice on the side of her body. Little stubby tentacles gobble it up and absorb it. Green goo begins to drip from the orifice and the face of the child goes limp. 38The child has found the pleon’s Force T substances. Force T stands for Forced Trinity and it acts as a recreational drug that replicates a slightly dumbed down version of the Spiral Trinity. 39The child falls to its knees and opens all four eyes, inside and out. Ears go pert. Inhale. Touch my face. Rub my face. Thoughts spiral. Goodbye. I see my body. Kneeling. Crying. Falling. Breaking. Goodbye. I lift up. 40Trapped in the corner of my room. No. It’s okay. I’m still lifting. My spirit separates from my mind. 41I am experiencing the effects of the Force T. I am experiencing the perspective of the child. I am trapped in both the child’s reality and my own. 42The child feels its / our life throb. 43It slows. It speeds. It pops. The body goes limp and the face hits the floor and the orifice in its side pukes and yellow vomit and pink chunks of meat cascade onto the nice carpet. 44As is traditional with grey deaths, the head collapses and a hog sized scarab crawls out. Black and green. 45It shimmies for the nursery of the ship and disappears. 46The child stands in front of me, our consciousnesses pressed against one another. 47The child is a mitigular but always felt that it was a pleon. 48The ple looks me over and feels me out. Me. I am All. I am Everything. Beginning and End. Outside of Time. 49The ple tells me that The Greator has sent it and that I am to blink out. 50But what will happen to me? THESE THINGS ARE NOT MY CONCERN. YOU HAVE BEEN FAR TOO HAPHAZARD WITH YOUR PEOPLE AND YOU WILL NOT CRUSH OURS. I HAVE BEEN CALLED AS AMBASSADOR TO THE GREATOR TO DELIVER THIS MESSAGE. 51But you died. 52I DIED TO SAVE MY PEOPLE. I DIED TO STOP YOU FROM RUINING US AND SPOILING US WITH YOUR ATTEMPTED GOODNESS. 53On the ship the three greys enter and stare at the body of their beloved child. Human sadness is not a part of the brain that the greys have. 54They acknowledge that their race has suffered a great loss and that their community has suffered a great defeat. They pull in the last few traces of the child and understand that what happened was necessary. 55“May we all stay safe from religion,” the adult ple speaks plainly. 56They don’t want me here. 57NO, THEY DO NOT WANT YOU HERE. BLINK OUT. 58Blink Out? But that means oblivion. 59YOU HAVE SUFFERED THROUGH OBLIVIONS BEFORE. NO ONE KNOWS WHAT AWAITS ABOVE US AND WE ARE ALL ON OUR OWN PATH TO THE GREATOR. BLINK OUT. GIVE UP YOUR SEAT AND PROCEED ACCORDINGLY. ALL GOOD COMES FROM THE GREATOR. 60Thank you for showing me love and kindness. Thank you for being benevolent. It is more than I deserve. I know that now. AND OFTEN TIMES TOO LATE. JUST LIKE YOUR HUMANLINGS. 61Ah! I am no better! I am no better! I am a fool! I deserve this! 62IT IS NOT ABOUT DESERVING. IT IS ABOUT RECEIVING. AND NOW IT IS YOUR TIME TO RECEIVE. YOU DO NOT HAVE TO BLINK OUT BUT YOU CAN’T STAY HERE. 63Yeah, another Earth song. I loved them so much. I know I did rough with them. I know I loved them too hard sometimes. I know the floods and the fires were tough but they had to know. I did my best. I tried my best. I wanted them to love me. I just wanted them to love me. Some of them truly did. I made some of them. And I scared some of them. But some of them loved me dearly. And thanked me. And regarded me with awe. 64The undercurrent pulls me down and I am absorbed through a vortex. [SEQ. XVIII] 1Atom to atom, bounding across subatomic particles, I travel through worlds, around nebulas and beyond the cosmos. I transcend both space and time as I pass through swatches of color and joyful energy and symmetrical lines and shapes and numbers – ah, the sweetness of seven, you are beautiful – rotating and radiating in the space between, which is all space always. 2My collective consciousness, which is many lives and many perspectives on many realms all merge with the others that have come before us and that will come after us. 3After our journey, we all come to rest upon the shores of Pale Lavender in the womb. I see the glittering eggs of fertility. The cradle of life. The beautiful velvety warmth of The Greator. The Nameless. The Ageless. The Ever Present Always. 4I cannot gaze on the face of This Thing That Has No Name. It speaks and I weep. I am reduced to regret and remorse and I am being boiled alive and it is delicious. I fall to the velvety flesh of butter and I rejoice in being home. In finally being home. In finding the goodness in all that is good. And finding the absolute harmony of existence. 5The tones of peace and celebration throb gently as I am lifted and embraced and told that I did good. I did good. I am good. I roll over onto my belly and my stomach gets rubbed. I love The Master so and The Master loves me and our love makes the Spiral Trinity look like elbow macaroni glued onto paper. 6Streamers glaze before my eyes and my walls crumble and disappear. Nothing contains me. The sad three-dimensional world from which I have traveled, that world which contains pain and grief is vanishing from my reserves. I am not me. I am part of The Greator. The expansion engulfs the juice of glory and always and forever and now. 7I am this. Always at home, outside of time, with my darling, The Greator, Pale Lavender. [END SEQ.]

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The Spiraling Cornucopia of Pale Lavender [seq. 8 – 10]

The Spiraling Cornucopia of Pale Lavender is  a 10-part series of fiction that explores faith and reality. Below is part 7. To read the introduction of the project, click here.

To read part 1, click here.

To read part 2, click here.

To read part 3, click here.

To read part 4, click here.

To read part 5, click here.

To read part 6, click here.

Otherwise, begin scroll.

[SEQ. VIII] 1I see a giant black orb floating in a sky of absolute white. Small streams of red pulse through the white like rivers of blood. It reminds me of photos I’ve seen of Earth taken from outer space. The white stretches to the horizon. 2A rushing wind hits me and tears my skin off, peels it back until I am just muscle and blood myself. 3My skin flaps in the breeze and disappears like a pair of lost pants. 4I hear a voice that is a loud and booming whisper. A spring breeze that will destroy a city. 5Voice says, “Look upon me and be in awe.” 6And it is in this moment that I realize I am not looking at a giant black orb and the sky is not white and the red is not rivers. 7I understand that I am looking at an eyeball. A singular eyeball. An eyeball that is so large that I am dwarfed by the pupil. 8I look down and see that I am standing on a platform made of flesh. “You do not see my true form, human. You see what your brain perceives. Your curiosity is not a weapon. 9Your curiosity is the path without end. Do you desire to continue down this path?” 10I fall to my knees and weep. 11I have been chosen. I have been Spoken to. How do I ever respond? How do I accept? I am so inadequate and unworthy. 12The magnitude of this creature is so great that the word creature is a box that cannot contain XXX. As time is a box that does not and cannot define Uncle Andy, there are no boxes that can define the greatness of this XXX. 13XXX is not a being. XXX is above XXX. Words are boxes and names are boxes that cannot contain the unstoppable rolling power that is this. 14The only word that keeps coming to mind is IS. 15IS. To be present. To exist. To be within. PRESENT. SINGULAR. FIRST PERSON. TO BE. IS. 16I see the word and I see a field of meaning stretched out behind it and I see that the knowledge is too great for my brain. 17I understand the shortcomings of my brain. 18No more could I teach a grasshopper meta-physics than could I begin to understand what IS is beyond what I see. 18My brain does not have the understanding to transcend into this. 19The fabric of reality is a blanket that can be folded and it can wear away and the blanket can be placed on many beds and it will take the shape of the bed and I am just a stitch on the fabric. Or yet… I am a pattern. A color. A shape. A simile. 20“You do not understand and you will never understand until it is time.” 21“Yes.” “But still. Walk towards me always. Do you believe that Little One?” 22I bend my head down and the sobbing takes over again. 23The great hand lifts me and places me inside the great mouth that is a black hole. 24I scream out, “Consume me, Master! Make me of value to your purpose! Allow my energy to feed your being!” and I drift in space and I am swallowed up and I feel myself being gently shifted down the throat until I am in a dark stomach that smells of roses. 25Chandeliers hang from the ceiling and someone has set out a dinner table with candles and wine and the floor is made of fine red meat. 26Six people sit at the table, all women, all mature. 27None of them have faces. They have heads but instead of features they contain swatches of flesh. 28Their hands lie on top of a pork roast and it dissolves into their flesh and I am reminded of Venus fly traps. 29The women stand up and begin walking towards me. One lifts up her hands and I see a clear toxin dripping from her palms and leaking onto the floor. 30“Stay back.” They continue marching towards me. 31I see a hole in the wall and run towards it. Jumping through the hole I find myself in the upper intestine of the IS. 32I run through a labyrinth of pliable purple flesh and find people lying about, eating from the walls and licking the floors. 33“Worship IS. Worship IS. Fall to your knees and worship with your mouth.” 34A man looks at me with flesh hanging from his teeth. “We are the great parasites of IS. We are meant to eat the cancer. Are you the cancer?” 35I run and then I’m in the small intestine and the ceiling is lower. Bats swoop down and claw at my face and blood runs down my cheeks and vines shoot from the earth and grab my feet and my legs and the vines have mouths that bite me. 36My shoes fill with blood and I scream and I bite back and I won’t give up. I bite the vines and they scream and I keep running and then I am in the color, filled with books. 37The Great Library of Knowledge. I pull a book off the shelf and open it. Inside is a language I have never seen but I read it anyway, feeling the words through my very being. 38Chapter 1: Always look left and right. Always say please and thank you. Always be a gentleman. Show compassion. Be empathy. Reflect sympathy. 39Chapter 2: Everyone has a voice. Everyone has a heart. Everyone has a brain. Everyone has a past. Everyone is comprised of innumerable memories and emotions. Everyone is a tangle of ideas that they don’t understand. 40Chapter 3: Happiness is just an emotion. Happiness is simply drug excretions from your brain. As is anger. As is love. 41Chapter 4: Nothing is impossible. 42Chapter 5: Trust everyone and fear losing nothing. 43I close the book and drop it on the ground because I don’t care. Someone else can pick it up. 44A trapdoor slides open under me and I hit my jaw on the way down, biting my tongue. 45My mouth begins to bleed and it tastes like cinnamon. 46The walls around me narrow until they are pressed against my shoulders and it feels as though my arms are on fire. 47I slam into the ground on top of a pile of hot coals, embers and wood. 48Crawling out of the fireplace [SEQ. IX] 1I find myself in my earth house circa four decades ago. I see myself opening a present. An action figure. I love him. 2My dad checks his watch. My mom takes a picture on her oblong camera. 3Where is this? A voice next to me says, “Prime time, baby.” 4And when I turn around I see that I am in a theater of people all watching my life. 5“It’s the 2pm showing. Everyone loves the next scene where you pee your pants, haha.” “Why are you watching this?” “Because your life is a TV show and you’re the main star. We all watch you. All of us. Every one of us. Our entire planet has watched you your entire life. Time is relative. You are a theatrical feature film. Your life is our entertainment. 6Your death makes us feel something we can’t feel. 7You create in us the sense of being alive. 8I have watched your life six times. Your teenage years are my favorite. Watching you discover the world from twelve to sixteen is a truly astounding experience. 9Do you remember your first beer? Hannah stole it out of her dad’s fishing cooler in the garage and you guys shared it and then made out for forty minutes, laying down in the boat while that screw dug into your hip. But you didn’t care. Hanna. 10But I have to know – something we never knew – did you like your dog when you were a kid? You always seemed ambivalent.” “I liked my dog, yes.” “It seems like you should. Let’s give Claude a big round of applause, everyone!” The room erupts into applause. 11Lights come on – rows of lights. Row after row after row and I watch the auditorium light up and it continues to go, further and further. 12I’m in a stadium, two stadiums, a small town. A city. I’m surrounded by a hundred million lights and they’re all looking right at us and I say, “Hey, we’re going to need flashlights if we’re going to go this way,” and everyone laughs again because it is so bright in here. 13I say, “Thank you all for coming. It was quite nice and uh, I guess thank you for watching! I hope I didn’t do anything that embarrassed myself too much…uh…” the audience lets out a groan of sympathy. Oooohhhhh. 14I have them by the throat. They all love me. 15“Were you all there when I found that odd shaped mole on my back? “YES!” “And you were all there when Laura broke up with me?” The audience nods. 16Some of them have tears in their eyes. 17Their race and shape seems to change. They seem to be something else until I move my eye toward them and then, as I do, they seem to shift to humans. 18Moving, shifting little creatures. 19What are you? What are you really? Just projections. You too. Me too. All of us part of something bigger. Struggling to get home. 20“Could you sign any autographs, sir?” “Oh yes,” I reply with far too much accepting glee, “I would be delighted to!” 21The audience erupts and rushes the stage. 22The manager calls for order, which is finally attained but it takes three and a half days and during that time, I am forced to sleep on a cot on the stage. 23People take pictures with my sleeping form and the images later become the most valuable possessions of this realm. They are hung in churches. 24Finally, the autographs start and I sign everything – I sign books and posters and mugs and pencils and I even sign a lady’s arm and I kiss two babies and one man. 25Then Michael approaches the table and his jaw drops open, unhinges, snaps, pops. I hear it break. I hear the bone snap in half like a dried twig and for some reason the first thought I have is about how expensive it’s probably going to be to replace that. 26His tongue sprouts from his mouth and then splits and wraps around my face. It sizzles and then melts through the flesh but I can still see. 27My eyes are blocked but my cognitive understanding is clear. 28He says, “All is vanity,” in a high pitched woman’s voice and then melts into the floorboards and I follow him. 29The auditorium flashes past me and I see the feet of a crowd of people and I remember thinking how dirty each of their shoes were. 30Don’t they care about the clothes that they wear? And where have they all been that their shoes were so dirty? 31One man has the face of a lion. It’s fantastic and majestic. His mane is enormous and golden and I want to touch it. 32Something inside of me wants to run my fingers through his mane. 33He stands against the bar and he wears a tuxedo. He holds a martini glass in his hand and the liquid sparkles. There is an olive on a toothpick in the cup. His sleeves are rolled up, which is an odd look to have with a tuxedo but somehow he pulls it off. 34Clearly a confident man. His shoes are brown loafers but man, they shine. 35He is the only one that can save me and then he is gone. 36My heart cries out for him and as I fall I see him look over the edge of the hole and he is wearing a red robe with white trim and black dots. The shoulders have strands of gold and His eyes are so blue. 37“Why do you look like that?” “This is what you think God looks like, isn’t it, Aslan?” “Hold me.” “No longer.” “Did I make a mistake?” 38“You failed to love,” and I keep falling and then I think I hear him say, “…anyone but yourself.” And [SEQ. X] 1my truth sits out in front of me and I am naked. 2My clothing is on but my brain is exposed. My deepest thoughts are laid out in front me. 3The lights in the darkness of this slow motion fall flash on and I see them all. The greys. 4The creators, encircled around me like a very intimate Roman Coliseum. There are two hundred of them. 5Each wears a different colored robe. Each means something different. 6Who are they? Who are you? 7And then I feel their presence. It reaches out to me, stronger than a language. No body speaks.

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The Spiraling Cornucopia of Pale Lavender [seq. 3 – 6]

“I started reading The Spiral Cornucopia of Pale Lavender… and I didn’t really like it. But then I realized I was trying to read it like a book – I was trying to just read it. And so I went back and slowed it down and tried to imagine it more like something to ingest bit by bit. Like a poem or a fortune cookie. It’s still weird. But I like it a lot more.” – C.M.

“This is truly incredible.” -C.O.

“I have no idea what this garbage is supposed to be. Were you drunk when you wrote it?” -S.G.

***   ***   ***   ***   ***

 The Spiraling Cornucopia of Pale Lavender is  a 10-part series of fiction. Below is part 3. To read the introduction of the project, click here.

To read part 1, click here.

To read part 2, click here.

Otherwise, begin scroll.

74She opens the door and enters first. [SEQ. IV] 1We go through the black door and down a small set of three steps and into a small bunker area. It is a small box. It is made of metal. There are shelves. 2On those shelves are boxes and cans filled with things. Some of it is food and some of it is generic office supplies and there is also a bag of yeast that is turning black. The ceiling drips water onto the floor. 3There is an electric plug on the wall but the shape looks like a straight line an inch in length instead of anything my collective conscious may be familiar with. 4The door dissolves as we approach it and we enter a hallway that is lit by light that seems to radiate out of nowhere. It is both odd and familiar to me. 5The smell is both sweet and delicious. Like a steak in cranberry sauce. But it isn’t strong enough to make me hungry. It’s just strong enough to make me satisfied. 6I see that the old woman is suddenly standing up quite straight and looking decades younger. 7She tells me that everyone looks different here. They look the way they want to look in their hearts, which is typically a more glamorous version of themselves. 8Rarely do people want to become someone else. It happens but you typically stay yourself. 9She looks at me and laughs. 10And when I look down I see that my skin is pale white. 11We pass a mirror and I see that I am the man in the river but I don’t know why. 12She points at me and tells me that my hair is white. She pulls out a lock of it and shows me. 13We walk through the tunnels and then up some stairs and mostly I follow her because she walks as though she knows where she is going. 14At the end of the hallway there is a key. She picks up the key and uses it to open the door and I say, “Where did the key come from?” and she says that it was always here and I wonder who built this place. 15She tells me that she doesn’t know but the place is really big. She tells me that the other doors have been explored but none of them connect except two. You can go in one door and then come out the other one later on. 16A couple of guys that have been trying to map it – just some local guys in the village – figured it out. 17They think all of the doors are connected in some fashion. 18But the question is, if it’s a giant maze, what’s at the end? 19They found a room with a ceiling that appeared to not exist, a darkness that sat like a blanket. 20Another place from another time. 21The afterbirth of a local apocalypse. 22I ask her where we’re going and she just says we’re going to go to the quiet room until the Stomping Process is over. 23She says we have to stay here for several days because time moves differently where we stand. 24She says if you perch at the doorway (she used that word perch – like a giant bird) on this side and look out at the village, you will see everyone moving around very fast. They move like they’re all running around. 25Time moves more slowly over here and I say, “How old are you?” and she tells me that she is seven hundred and twenty six years old and suddenly my heart breaks because I know that her husband that is dead is not her first and that she has experienced the loss of a lifelong husband seven times. 26She carries more grief than anyone. Than everyone. 27There are things she is not telling me but I cannot prod right now. 28She tells me that we have to stay in here and wait for the Stomping Process to be finished. 29I ask her how long three days in here is and she tells me that it is seven years out there, which they call a threshing. 30When the Stomping Process begins it always lasts for seven years. 31They take the people and pull them into the sky. 32I ask why and she says she does not know. But I know. 33I know that some of them are kind and some of them are cruel and I know that they are fishing. 34The woman leads me down a hallway where the walls are gray and red and when we come to the end there are two men standing outside of a double door that is locked and the men have guns but no eyes and they don’t ask what we want because their job is not to keep things out but to keep things in. 35We walk through the doorway and inside I see a large group of people and they are all sick and broken in different ways. Some of them are covered in sores and some of them are thin and frail and some of them have blood dried around their mouth and nose and some of them lie on the floor coughing and some of them are dead. 36The smell is unpleasant but not unbearable. 37I notice a vent in the ceiling with a fan that is always running. I also see a vent and it is out of this vent that I sense a smell. 38There are perfumes being pushed into the air here. Something tangy like a grapefruit but instead of masking the stench of sickness and disease it instead adds to it, combining with it, making a smell that is neither good nor bad but making something that is neither. An ambivalent scent that I don’t think I will or could ever get used to. 39The people turn and look at us and some hold out their hands but most of them acknowledge us with their eyes and then turn away, aware that we are unable or unwilling to help them. 40I see a ham sandwich sitting on a counter but the bread has turned a dark green color. There is a refrigerator but it isn’t plugged in. 41When I turn to ask the woman a question I see that she is gone and I am so stupid and now I am alone and now I am afraid and now I realize that I am one of these people and I don’t want to be. 42I want to be free and outside even though I really don’t know what is out there and even though the fishermen are reaching from the sky and pulling people from the earth, or whatever this place is. A hologram, an illusion, a spell, I still would rather be out there because freedom inside of oppression is better than being a prisoner without a view. 43I don’t go towards the doors because I know the men will never let me out. 44I know that I cannot call my mother or my friends or my brother, if I had one, if I ever had one. If I ever had a mother. If I could find a phone. 45I cannot scream for help because no one is listening and I am alone and panic begins to wash over my body and it makes me sick and I start to pace and then I lie down and I sleep and when I wake up there are loud banging noises and the walls are shaking and the lights are flickering and I run and I hide behind the refrigerator that isn’t plugged in while the rest of the people crawl towards the door. 46They fall to their knees and they hold their hands in the air and they all begin shouting and screaming and I hear, “I am here, Lord!” and, “Take me!” and, “I am ready!” and many of them begin to laugh but most of them begin to cry and sob and I see that this is the first time they have been happy for a very long time. 47The banging stops and a whisp of something that I would call smoke or mist creeps under the door except the mist looks like a prism and I see all the colors of the retinal spectrum blending and sparkling like a gemstone and I see other things too. But I don’t see them with my eyes. I feel them. I feel the words and the thoughts and I know that yes, this prism mist is a good thing but I fear that it is also a trap and none of the people know it and I watch as the colorful mist wraps around the group of them and envelops them and I see the mist start to boil and I hear screaming but it is not screams of pain but screams of ecstasy and it seems like they are experiencing other-worldy pleasures and it is in this fashion that they go away. 48They are not pulled through the door but the prism fades as mist does and when it is gone, everything inside of it is gone as well. 49Sitting on the green and white-checkered linoleum floor is a small stone, the same prismatic color of the mist. It is about the size of my fist. I pick it up and find that it is quite warm, somehow imbued with human life but no; I understand that that is wrong. 50This is their sickness and their hatred and their sorrows and their remorse and all of the terrible and bad things of the world that have been placed and given and gifted to them over their many years wandering this strange place, this life, this existence, that they’ve gathered up and now they’ve all been allowed to leave it behind like old shoes, freed from it completely. 51I smell the rock and then I taste it, rubbing my tongue along the top. It tastes like pepper and makes me sneeze but immediately I feel the effects of it as my brain expands and I see all the pain in the world. 52I see it all. 53I see how it works into our bodies. I see that sometimes it enters through our ears and sometimes it enters through our eyes but mostly it is birthed from our hearts. 54We are like mother hens sitting on our eggs, sitting on our evils, sitting on our selfishness, sitting on our jealousies and we keep them warm and we let them grow and we birth them out into the world, not as eggs, but as words or actions or in the tone of our voice. 55I drop to my knees and I want to cry but I don’t get to. I don’t get to expel the feelings. 56I grip them in my heart and I squeeze their complex singularity with my body and my soul cries and breaks and I stare at the ceiling, which breaks away and crumbles away and I see, outside, not sunshine, but ultimate darkness and in that darkness I sense nothing at all. No great evil staring back at me but absolute sadness and it reaches out for me and it wants me and I can feel that if I follow it I can do anything I want. 57I can partake in all of my wants and desires but there will be no pleasure in any of it. There will be no taste to any of it. 58I feel laughter pulled from my body and I feel joy retched out of my hands and I feel happiness, like a coin, taken from me. 59And now I understand that I am empty and this body is truly nothing more than a little package. An envelope with a piece of paper inside and what’s written on that paper? What does my letter say? What is my message? 60I feel the darkness reaching in for my letter but I hang on tight and it says, “No. This is mine. All is mine.” 61And I know that it isn’t true but I wonder if it is and I unfold my letter, not a real letter, but my purpose, and I reach deep down inside myself and [SEQ. V] 1I say, “Who are you?” and the answer comes back. “Compassion. Understanding. Friendship. Don’t ever forget. You will die.” 2And then everything is pulled away from me but some kind of residue is perhaps still left and then my body is sucked through the gaping chasm in the ceiling and my eyeballs melt away and everything is dark and when I turn around, I see a hole in the fabric of whatever this is. Maybe a version of reality or a dimension or time or space. 3I drift away from it and I don’t care because nothing matters and everything is darkness and nothing serves a purpose and floating freely through space is better than being trapped against my will and I feel my consciousness expand and I understand that I’ve been here before and perhaps this is where I came from and perhaps this is the cradle of Now and I call out with myself, not my voice and not my heart because these things are all gone and now I am just a thought. 4My physical being has been removed and I know that I am transcendent but have somehow de-volved to a flickering memory. 5I feel out towards the edges but find nothing but vastness and then a vibration touches my thought and I know it is another place or another person or another thing – there is something. 6There is life. 7Something in this vastness and blackness and darkness and abyss and I call to it and I find it and it is a/ [SEQ. VI] 1I open my eyes and I’m underwater, inside of a narrow tube and I can’t lift my arms.

 

 

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Part 4 premieres next Monday the 6th. 36and then he reaches up and he peels off his face like boiled skin from a tomato”

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The Spiraling Cornucopia of Pale Lavender [seq. 1 – 2]

[SEQ. I]1Inside, but also outside, of the grand sweltering nothingness I do not exist. Nor am I an I. No singularities drift. 2In empty space that is not cold, a warmth suddenly envelops me and I recognize and accept that I am a thing. 3Liquid washes over my being although I do not know the word liquid because I have never known anything. The currents of motion and time push me where they wish. 4I am the first of my kind. 5Something tingles at my core and I feel a tugging and a separation of my being before becoming aware that there is another. A second presence is nearby and it is the same as me because it came from me. 6I am a singular cell. A collection of atoms. A bond of life. I am both mortal and divine. I am spiritual and temporal. I am life. The very first. 7And now there is a second, made from me. My partner was pulled from my essence and made from my content. 8We are not identical but we are not the same. 9Another spasm and then we have some company. There are four of us. Eight of us. Sixteen of us. A village of faceless, emotionless, drifting amoebas in the liquid love juice of existence. 10We are the spermatozoa in the semen of creation. 11A tail. Gills. Limbs sprout from my core. Intentional movement drags me to a mate where we replicate and create our own life. Our community calls our replication evil. Says we are dabbling in the unknown. Playing God. 12The breath of life rushes over me again and I can move faster, hide better. 13Survive in the darkness. 14Stay away from That Thing that has engulfed so many of my kind. 14Above me is a sharp blanket. It hurts my eyes to look for too long. I push towards it. Ah, yes. Light. 15The pressure of the environment pushes back against me. 16Our tribe says not to go towards it. They say that is where God lives and we were meant to stay back. If He wanted us to approach Him, then He would not have placed the pressure barrier between us. 16My body has changed and the pressure doesn’t bother me any more. 17I am curious. 18I crawl along in the shallow dirt, the light just above me calling not my name, as I have no name, but calling me. My code. 19If it is God, I want to see. I want to press upon It with my eyes. 20I press on to the light and then, like a gentle slap, my face births from the water and I understand that I am in water and that there is such a thing as out of water. 21I have been reborn. 22One step at a time I emerge from the ocean, the cradle of existence, the warm goo that is The Earth’s Womb. As I have birthed a child, so too has the Earth. 23The air is cold and a fibrous material begins to coat my body, covering me, changing my form. 24Fruit hangs from trees and I crawl up them to eat their sweetness and I look around and I see The Land stretch out in front of me in such a great distance that I become dizzy observing The Eternal. 25I hop out of the tree and my face has altered. 26In the distance I hear a noise and when I follow it with my recent eyes, I see a four footed creature behind a tree. It too is covered in brown fur but it is not like me. My stomach rumbles and I know what I must do but I know not how. 27I straighten up, accepting the task at hand. 28I pick up a stick that has fallen to the ground. I rub it against a rock until the end is sharp and I hunt. I follow the creature until I fall upon it and I stab it. 29Red life gushes out of it in currents and I drop to my knees and press my hands into the warm blood. I did this to you. You gave your life for me. I am grateful for you. 30I watch as its eyes blink, staring into the trees. I follow its gaze and see another one like it but a smaller version. A baby. 31I am ambivalent to it. 32Without waiting for my beast to die, I reach my fingers into its chest and I pull, ripping open the skin. Greasy and stinking organs ooze out of its hole and coalesce at my feet. 33What are you? What is it that controls you? 34I dig in deeper and find a hard white material. I crack it open and expose a soft beating rock. I lift it up. Here you are. 35And I smell it and I engulf it and I am filled up and the creature that is a part of this place becomes a part of me and I become stronger. 36A breeze scratches me and I find that I am cold and so I peel off the hide of this creature and I wrap myself in it, dripping blood down my naked and goose pimpled body. 37I stand above this beast and I stare at its empty shell. I stare into its hollow eyes and I send my value and worth towards it. I am grateful that it has given its life for me. It has given me food and warmth at the very cost of its breath. 38I recognize something called color and that each object in my surroundings contains variances of its own. 39In an empty field that is green and yellow, a forest suddenly bursts from the ground, not saplings but large oaks that are mature and the Earth continues to change as I do. 40It happens fast because I don’t pay attention. 41There are natural holes in the trees trunks, inverted knots, where small animals roost and nest. Creatures scurry in the branches. I see a red squirrel with a white belly and a fuzzy tail. It has big cheeks, full of food. The squirrel runs down and curls up in the hole of the tree but then the tree eats it, consumes it, nurtures itself. 41It contracts and the hole squeezes shut and I hear a crunch and a squeal and the tail of the squirrel, which is trapped outside of the nest, gives a few weak kicks and then the tree sucks it in like a dog eating spaghetti. 42I walk towards the river and I find a small raft made out of thick cut branches tied together with old yellow fabric. 43Who built this? 44Underneath the raft I find a dead and bloated body that resembles my own save for the color of the skin. Where mine is dark, his is light. It reminds me of the color I saw in the ocean, hovering above me. 45Could this be the source of the light? Could this be God? 46Has our understanding of God been wrong? 47This is a man with a potbelly. He has white hair in a male patterned type of baldness. His skin has turned into cottage cheese. His eyes used to be green but now they look like someone has poured glue over them. His fingernails are yellow and brown and caked with dirt. 48I wonder what this man’s penis looks like, mangled and gross, bloated and crawling with bugs. 49He is wearing a white shirt with blue trim. The subtle intricacies of the design are unparalleled. How he was able to fabricate such a creation sits beyond the fence of my understanding and must be a kind of divine wonder. 50I wonder what is in his pockets. I wonder who this man was. 51I hear another crunch and my senses tingle. I turn my head and see another beast walking towards me but this one is far different. It is what I will look like someday. It is what I will become. What I will change into if I am left to change. But I will not be left to change. This thing is about to take me away and show me things. 52I have been chosen. I have been chosen. 53If the others thought the bloated man was God, it was because they did not lay eyes upon the creature approaching me in grace. 54It is short and thin – its body structure narrow and delicate. It has big black eyes and gray skin. It approaches me and I see that it has a very tiny mouth. 55I wonder if it has teeth. 56It stands before me and we observe one another in silence. 57The Great Being looks at me and I get lost in those monolithic eyes. Getting lost in their darkness. Am lost. 58I want to sing their praises and write their poetry. A sense of awe pours over me and I realize how tiny I am. The Earth that I saw from the top of the tree is nothing. 59I am a speck of shit on the toilet paper of existence. And now I’m going to have my nose rubbed in it for thinking I was better than I was. Such a foolish and limited creature I am. My stupidity and primal state are embarrassing. 60I take a step closer. I could touch it if I chose. Or I could try to. 61A gentle humming that is not verbal radiates from the body and sends shivers up my spine. My penis tingles and a tear runs down my cheek. I smile and my hands clench to fists. I drop to my knees and stare up at this thing. “I love you. Please. Save me. Show me. Anything.” 62If it wanted to, it could end me. It could simply cap off my life and tear me open and wear my skin to cover its nakedness but I sense that it won’t because it has not an interest, but no need to do it. 63The holy black eye surrounds me and [SEQ. II] 1then I am standing on a craft that crawls through the blackness of space. 2I know this to be true. 3The fence that circles my mind doubles outward and I see the lay of more land. My understanding rises up out of the Earthly sludge and comprehension of things previously unknown dawn on me like the beginning of time. 4I now understand that there is a fence and that my mind can only approach the fence and that I cannot wander past it. Present, future and past tense are moot. All happen simultaneously. Language tense is invalid and lacking true dimensionality. 5All around me are greys, none of them staring, all of them observing. I am the center of naked attention. 6There are machines everywhere. And hallways that seem endless. 7I walk down one and off to the side I see a woman with the top of her head split open and her brain exposed but she is still alive. She says, “Hey, Chuck!” and wiggles her eyebrows at me in a friendly gesture. Her hair is brown and curly. The grey operating on her brain reminds me more of a mechanic than a doctor. 8He is just fixing a small problem in one of the machines. 9I enter another room that is more like a great hall and see that it is more vast than my simple field. So large that I cannot see the roof. 10Where am I? Am I not on a craft? The sky seems endless. Am I on a planet? Where have they taken me? 11The inside of the cavern glows with perfect light that radiates from nowhere. The essence of life gives light to itself. It is a light that exists at the origin of everything.

 

 

Return next Monday, May 23rd for part 2 of 10 as our adventure continues through the realms of deep space. We’ll also ground down to a small village and meet a woman who carries the weight of many lifetimes of misery. She will guide us to a community park filled with doors that lead us to the land of Somewhere Else. Fear, hope, anxiety, betrayal and escape. This is the beginning.

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