Entering a new phase is difficult. I am starting to lose faith again in this dream of mine.
I am tentatively working on a larger work that seems to be taking a few years, at this point I am on the verge of giving up. I thought posting this excerpt would do some small motivation to continue with my writing. I guess we'll see if that works at all.
His hands, the same that excited me in their individuality, moving together in the end like a choreographed chorus, reached right inside me, drawing out on their tips my voice stringing there, dangling there in his power. His eyes pierced mine again while I tried to cry, to explain, retching with regret.
There would be no understanding in this darkness, seeing only the white of his eyes cataract covered, white as his grin and always, always the darkness, within the darkness, the hole where his heart should be. I reached my hands to him cautiously, unsure of his reasoning, whether friend or foe. Still without the irises his eyes had not left mine. I was sure he could see well beyond this fleshy mask. Olabokun moved out of reach.
Forgetting my voicelessness then I tried to scream out to him, and was forced because of pain to grab at my middle. It was crippling, catching my breath in my throat, imploding in flames in my stomach, washing down my legs, into my feet, into my toes grabbing at the wooden floors as I doubled, if I could only take root. Olabokun laughed at this attempt, the hearty, heavy haunting laugh that seemed to flood into the room from all walls. I crouched to the floor, sat without choice feeling the tear roll slowly down my cheek.
Olabokun raised me up against him gently, his mouth found mine in the embrace and as they touched he blew his breath into me, his last effort of a rebirth. It was with the last of my faith that I hoped he would fail.
Just reminding you, because you already know, KumblaChild, that you have the power to slay every dragon guarding every threshold between you and your dream.
ReplyDeleteYour reality is your dream and your dream your reality, so you can soar. Talk to your God.
Cast off the chains, the moments of self-doubt, misgivings, feelings of despondency and vulnerability; sleep, dream again, wake up refreshed and march towards your destiny, step by indomitable step.
Believe it, visualize it, will it and it will manifest. There is nothing to fear but fear itself.
By the way, you are an intriguing writer. Keep writing; you can only get better.
ReplyDeleteThank you for the encouragement Newton. I really appreciate it. Unfortunately it's not as simple as closing my eyes. I'm willing to put in the work. I'm finding it hard to put in the heart.
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ReplyDeleteI had forgotten to put in 'want'. It is really, "Want it, believe it, visualize it, will it, keep wanting it, and it will manifest."
ReplyDeleteIt's the desire, the wanting, that breeds the love, devotion and dedication in the heart that transforms the work to pleasure, no longer chore. It's the desire, the wanting, that will keep the heart-fire aflame to boil the water to provide the steam to turn the tyres, to carry you, as on angel wings, when you tire, to sustain the indomitable will, in your inexorable march forward.
Of course, the 'march' is the 'putting in of the work' of which you speak as you gain your triumphs along the way.
Sleep is the time of healing, rejuvenation and new vision, the necessary letting go, to allow the unconscious or subconscious to work its faithful magic with your faith.
I will tell you about the enigma of water another time. Stay strong, 'little sister'.