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Rejection I

April 22, 2013

“You must claim your gift, sweetling. Stars and moons and over the hill.”

I sleep, and I dream.

I remember the damp, cold air clinging to my skin and the howling wind whining through unseen crevices. Inside me there is a humming, a buzzing – I am filled with the crawling honey-makers. They make up my eyes and ears, my memories and needs. I close my mouth as tight as I can to keep them inside.

“Stars and moons and over the hill.”

I walk. I crawl. I am naked and then I am clothed again. Whirling around me, ever present, a shield of buzzing brown and yellow and black.  I am thirteen again; young and fragile, away from home and scared of falling. There is ice around me. I remember losing my grip and I hear my father’s anguished howl as I plunge into the deathly cold blackness. Everything in here is wrong. Everything in here is not where I am supposed to be.

“Over the hill, sweetling.”

I remember seeing scenes from my childhood in terrible clarity, visions flashing past me, making my eyes hurt and my head hum. The Hive, I remember thinking, never sleeps. And neither do I.

“Come, sweetling. Close now. Much closer.”

I can remember falling through sheets of icy winds, screaming and not making any sound. I can still see the box in front of me and I remember thinking of Hanako. She would want me to have this, would she not? Yes, sweetling, she would. You could change the world, you know. You could make it in your image and claim the throne of gods. It is within your grasp, sweetling. You can have it. We want you to have it.

I see myself putting my hand on top of the thing and recoiling in horror. It is warm; it beats (pulsates) like a living (heart) thing and my (honeycomb) soul shudders as it realizes that it must have it you must take it sweetling you must grab your destiny and become the stars and the moons and the hills and the innermost sanctum YOU MUST YOU MUST INITIATE THE DEUS FREQUENCY BEGIN THE

I remember crying. The tears freeze. I pull my hand away from the pulsating horror.

There is a precipice in front of me.

I jump.



From → Dreams

  1. Alex Land permalink


  2. Reblogged this on Letters from Agartha and commented:
    The leaves speak…

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