Friday, October 31, 2014

The Three Keys Part 1

I was walking down the side of the road, crunching through goat heads and broken glass scattered on the pavement when I spotted something. It was an iron key ring with three keys hanging from it, along with a lock. The three keys were made of iron, and covered in a patina of rust, but each was a different color. The first was blue, the second was red, and the third was yellow. I glanced at them curiously, wondering if any of them fit into the lock.
I gently freed the blue key and inserted into the lock. Because of the rust it went in roughly, but it did fit, so I began to turn it to open the lock.
Next thing I knew everything had gone hazy around me. I felt like I was slowly going deep into murky water. Then my consciousness faded.
When I came to I was lying on a thick, carpeted floor, and all around me were little tiny men with full beards, wearing blue cloaks. They appeared to be more in shock than I was, because they continued to just stare and not say anything.
And my only thought was these look like dwarves. And am I dreaming?
Finally, one of the dwarves came forward. He had a very long, straggling white beard and dark, penetrating eyes: “It is the guardian,” he said solemnly. “She has come at last to reconnect us all.”
“Where am I?” I said. “What is this place? And who are you?”
“My name is Alim,” he said thoughtfully, “And you are within the blue house, Center of All Knowledge.”
“I don't understand,” I replied. “How did I get here? And where is this place?”
He puffed away at the pipe in his hands: “We are very familiar with you my dear, but only you know the path that leads into the Blue House and back out into the world.”
“So you don't know the way back out?” I stated somewhat alarmed.
“All I can tell you,” he responded cryptically, “Is that you must connect all before the twisting maze becomes clear and you can depart.”
“Surely if you know all,” I said, “You can tell me more than that.”
“The key to understanding does not derive from knowledge,” he said sagely. “It is a tool like all else. I suggest you use the tool wisely. I will show you your library if you follow me.”
I hesitantly stood up, and the dwarves around me gave way so that I could follow Alim through a blue door and down a long hallway full of doors.
“I will have to show you the way my lady,” he said. “It's a bit of a labyrinth in here I am afraid to say.”
I followed him down the twisting hall that took weird off shoots and turns in every which way. Finally he stopped in front of a door and beckoned me forward. He opened it, and stepped in.
Inside was an immense room full of shelves of books. Rows and rows upon books. In the center was a large blue couch and a coffee table, also covered with books.
“Where in the world do I start?” I murmured.
Alim replied solemnly, “On the table is what you last were pondering on. The shelves are rather disorganized I'm afraid. You were the last one to file things away, and I must say I do not understand your filing system at all.”
I walked over to the table and picked up a heavy book that was lying open. The title said The Meaning of Life. Apparently I was on page forty-five of this 500 page book.
“I guess I'd better start reading,” I faltered.
Alim nodded: “By the way, this key ring was lying beside you on the floor when you appeared. Perhaps it may help you.

Wednesday, October 8, 2014

A Strange Friendship

“Ugh, the internet is so slow over here,” I complained.
I was sitting at one of the computers in the lounge over at the Bosque Del Apache.
My sister was sitting at the out-of-tune piano in the corner, picking out the melody to the song Resistance, and my friend Gwen was writing out a new role play thread, on our Elvish role-playing site, on her ipad.
She started laughing: “This new user is so ridiculous. I can't believe he just suggested making up a religion for the elves, and he also messaged me to ask if he could add some of his elvish words to our lexicon.”
“He hasn't even done any role-playing yet,” I added, “And he already wants to make all these changes. He already asked me to make a band of human warriors in Senium, which I made.”
I clicked on the page I had made, and then let out a groan. He had added a whole bunch of script to the page I had made without asking. And not only that, he hadn't color coded it to match the rest of the text on the page, and it was full of run-on sentences. I breathed in and out, seething.
“Look at what he did, Gwen,” I exclaimed. “He can't just change pages any old way he wants to.”
“He's so irritating,” she agreed. “We need to change our settings, so that only moderators can make changes to pages. And give him a warning. He can't get away with that.”
Several seconds later I heard her start raging: “He just said the banner we made is fucking awful. The rules very clearly state that curse words are prohibited!”
I couldn't help myself. Even though I was seething over him adding to the page I had made, I started giggling. It was too hilarious. He was so stupid. I could not understand how anyone could be so oblivious.
“I'm sending him a message right now,” I said.
Gwen was still too busy raging and shouting out insults over him to pay attention.
I slowly typed, “Please do not change my pages again without permission. It is against the rules. It is also against the rules to use curse words on this site.”
I looked at what I had written, and then added a smiley face for good measure: “Please do not change my pages again without permission. :) It is against the rules. It is also against the rules to use curse words on this site.”
Then I hit send. A few minutes later I received a response from him: “Oh I didn't bother reading the rules. Sorry about that.”
I groaned into my hands. He intrigued me. I wanted to understand him, so I started writing him messages asking about himself, and then I sent him an enneagram test. He tested at type eight, the challenger. Surely all made sense now. Eights wanted control and didn't like following rules.
A few days later, a compliment popped up onto my profile page from him: “Hey, I think you're super!
no idea why they don't just have a type your own option on this but, hey, doesn't make much difference so basically; you rock, and i wish you luck in your endeavors.”
Gwen laughed and laughed until she almost died. But secretly I was pleased. Everything about him was intriguing. Not that I could admit to liking him. Everyone would laugh at me.
And then he went on vacation for two weeks, and I spent the entire time moping around, thinking he would never come back. I shouldn't care I told myself sternly. He's just some random person on the internet. Why should you care? But he had already taken a hold of my brain. I missed him, and I never missed anybody.
When he came back, I took the first chance I had and said, “I think I'm falling for you.”
He responded with, “I think that is the nicest thing anyone has ever typed to me. I'm sure you'll be glad to know I just got out of a relationship.”
And so began a long friendship with a guy that I only fell deeper in love with over time. 


Nothing makes the earth seem so spacious as to have friends at a distance; they make the latitudes and longitudes. ~ Henry David Thoreau

Wednesday, October 1, 2014

Symbols of the Unconscious Mind

"My hands slipped and down, down I went to the very bottom. The watery world surrounded me, cutting of my air supply. Desperation filled me. Would I die unnoticed at the bottom of a pool? I struggled up, but it was like working through a viscous substance. The water pulled at me, trying to keep me under. I would never reach the surface again, caught and trapped in a silent dungeon of unknowns. My chest felt squeezed. Oh how I hated water. Who knew what mysteries lay lurking beneath. Finally I broke the surface and grabbed hold of the ledge of the pool for dear life. All around me, the other kids splashed and yelled. The swim teacher glanced at me briefly and went back to instructing a child. I felt like I had been gone a long time in another world, only to come up and find the world still at the same place."
My brother was having a panic attack.
“My girl friend disappeared,” he said. “She's not answering her phone or anything, David.”
I have had a telepathic connection with his girl friend since I've met her, so I reached out to her with my mind.
“Where are you?” I called out.
There was no response. I tried again and worry began to creep up on me. It was like our connection had been severed somehow. I was beginning to wonder what I should do when our mother appeared, very angry at my brother over something. She yelled at him and grounded him to the house, and he started to cry.
“I'm stuck here,” he said. “I can't even look for her.”
“I'll go look,” I automatically volunteered.
I ran out of the house, towards her home. At her house, I hopped over the low stone wall into the yard. As I passed the swimming pool, I glanced in. Dread filled me. There she was floating at the bottom of the pool, her pale blonde hair floating out like sea weed. I automatically jumped in to pull her up.
I woke up, breathing heavily, a normal blonde-haired girl, no longer a guy and also not floating at the bottom of a pool. Water to me represented the fear of the unknown. The dark. The mysterious. And also a symbol for going down into the subconscious where repressed dangers lurked. Even now that I can swim, the uneasiness of being underneath water never leaves me. It is a vague horror that I have never been able to explain. Even beneath a swimming pool, I feel dangers lurking me, clawing at my mind.