The storm

“You need to remember who you are” he trailed off into “whoever you are, that is you”. It was a little awkward as they rarely spoke. He was popular, a people person. He on the other hand was a recluse. He could have simply disappeared. Maybe he had. Since hearing voices he had become somewhat disjointed. Even disinterested. The voices were so real. Though they had a reality like a radio playing. The radio that couldn’t be turned off. “People want you to feel better” he paused “they want you to return”.

Somewhere over an immense sea he resided. There was a storm. It was a wild storm and he clung to the side of the raft. He clung there. The whole planet was a mind. It was alive. His mind was a whole planet, no, no it was an Ocean. There he was clinging to the raft. Who was in the driver’s seat? Who was controlling him? Who had wrested control? Was it a virus? Was it a spirit? Was it simply the fire that had travelled from his heart into his mind? Yet there he was out of control.

Then it seemed as though he was buried in a deep pit. He could only stand. Up above was a pinpoint of sky. It was dark in here he thought. I would like to see the sky again. The sky is where the stars reside. The place where spirits inhabit. The Earth is our mother and the sky is our spirit. Our mother welcomes us and keeps us safe. You are safe in the ground. They can’t bury you alive. You can see the spirit world above. At least you know it is still there. Some forget. Some forget who they are. They get lost in the storm and can no longer be found.

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