Connections (TBC)

Connections (TBC)

        The Gypsy wagonwas adorned in vibrant velvet throws, each invoking a different feeling, fearhad set in, almost freezing my mind from going any further. This is what I washere to do, a set of bells warmed my mind and I entered her world. I was leadthrough the door by a laced hand, a magnet to my truth, she said, an uncoveredmap spanning my whole unconsciousness. I took her chalice; ribbons of herlanguage filled the air around me, whilst I was motioned to sip. I was alreadyunder, the gypsy wine infiltrating my blood stream and mind; I felt anawareness of something which was not there before.

An instinctive fragment of emotion wastrying to dominate my thoughts, although paranoia was the stronger set of atomsbreaking courage into a glittering mess. As I tried to gather the tinyfragments to restore my sanity and courage, the energy multiplied, pulsatingthrough my mind, rippling past synapses and bringing me to a deeper level thanis the organic brain. This new found energy engineered my thoughts, laced withenthusiasm my unconsciousness began to open, stirring up memories of obsessivedelusion. I couldn’t understand the patterns emerging before me, but I knew Iwould. I delved deeper into this journey, vast oceans of nothingness contrastedwith dark intricate doorways. These doorways each held their own challenges,original obstacles, all of which I have faced before but this time with agreater sense of self perhaps they would uncover new truths? The choice had tobe made, which path would I break free from, perhaps all before I found the oneI needed to overcome in order to end this journey. A sudden fear collapsed meas I panicked I would never return from this barren mind, the serenity of theoceans enticed me, although I knew this would ultimately lead to boredom andinsanity. My soul would remain a mystery, a burden, a constant battle of worldslived, and new worlds chosen.

As I moved closer each doorway was a mazeof engrained lines, all interconnecting this was my thought process, a map ofall thoughts and memory concreted immortally in my unconsciousness. The planwas to unlock each door by reliving the memories; if it did not open, I neededto understand it more fully. I focussed on the first door, the lines began tochange, sliding up and down to resemble a face, I concentrated on the movingspines and found it to be my mother. I braced myself prepared for attack, butthe door simply opened, turning into a golden eagle of memory and flyingtowards the ocean.

I moved onto the second door, wondering if there was someform of trickery involved at a deeper level. Was I trapped regardless of effortin this potential nightmare… perhaps I needed the doorways to open into a memory;I was confused but held my ground. The second doorway seemed exactly the sameat first glance, dark grained wood, with a silver handle. I peered into themaze on the door waiting for it to resemble something I recognised, it simplyturned into a shadow of a hand waiting for me to shake it. I held out my handexpecting to be pulled into some memory I was not even able to recognise, letalone understand. But a voice echoed over the ocean the words turned into awhisper “Your Free”. Stumbling over my thoughts which lay scattered around meat this time, long scripts of words written out as I thought them, this was astrange dimension to be invited into.

The third door began to shake, the noise erupted into athunderstorm around me, soaking me with anger and pain, I ran towards it but itkept getting further and further away. Eventually through exhaustion I fell tothe ground in frustration. The door paused, a sense of ‘finally’ overcame me,and the door simply dissolved into the storm which immediately calmed. Whywould this world not open up to me? Did my own mind not trust me inside it,were the memories so painful that I would not be able to recover fromthem?  It seemed I had to get past thebarriers of protection, I was here for a reason, some twisted poetic sense of myselfhad encouraged me to take this journey and I wouldn’t give up.

The fourth door came into view and I sat in front of it, Idecided I would not even look at it, until I was sure it trusted me enough toshow me what I was looking for. I sat eyes closed, for what seemed liked hours,my hands tracing down the spines in order to gain its trust. The spines movedinto what would be my journey and I opened my eyes slowly and trustingly, I hadcome to an agreement with the door, that whatever it showed me I would trust. Ilooked up and it was another face, so familiar. I gazed at the eyes; it seemedalmost to be a perfect reflection. It dawned on me, that I was peering into anintricately designed wooden me. What did it mean; the ocean began to stir upfor the first time making me fearful of it. I realised the ocean was an abyssof feelings dealt with and that would consume me if I allowed myself to beswallowed into the false tranquillity. My thoughts were piling up around me andI couldn’t make sense of them in here. I concentrated on myself and found it toopen. It didn’t disappear or turn into a different form but invited me in. Wasthis my journey beginning? Did I just have to build that initial relationship oftrust?

As I walked through midnight skies, under acanopy of stars, I found myself being encouraged to accept myself. I enabled myinner child and present self to connect, filling in the blanks. It was thisacceptance I needed to feel secure, there were no nightmares around the cornerto trick me or bring me back to a helpless state, I was who I was for a reason.Trusting my true self, knowing I had moved on, knowing I had learnt all therewas to learn from each experience. This was the key to waking up, there were nohorrors to relive, my mind had already dealt with each experience,  turning it into something with great potentialfor my future self, all I had to do was believe that and be grateful.

A laced hand welcomed me into my new senseof enlightenment; I thanked her and walked off into the map of my own destiny,chosen by myself and my past.


By Roxy Ribbons

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writing Roxanna
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A Journey through my mind
A Word from the Writer
A first draft, my first attempt at a short story, theres a few things that will probably need changing and punctuation moved around as its a first draft straight from my mind.. but im too excited ad want to know what you think...