Ice

There I stand. I can see the world go by, interact with it through the magic of thought, but I am not there. I can not be hurt by those things for which I have no control or those things which I do or do not or or or.... I am alone! I am not there, I am here... in the middle of the plain of my creation which one bloomed of wildflowers and now is cold and empty, heavy with Ice. But I know the Ice and I build it thick. I pour the world tears on its walls to freeze it thicker and higher and colder and deeper. Nothing hurts me here where all is cold and emptiness.

I can see things in the world that look like people but they are not people because they are not here and so they can be moved and molded and led and deceived and used and cheated because they are not people like me.... They are only there to amuse the cerebralness of my thought in the ice and emptiness...

~~~

Do not think you are alone.

Do not think I have not been where you are.

Do not.

~~~

Gone from here and somewhere new... this place, confusing and warm with light and music that comes from nowhere and laughter that swirls around me. I whirl but only rainbows and mist and the warmth from nowhere beat down and I'm afraid. I want to go back to the snow and the cold and the emptiness of ice that I know, that is safe. I'm exposed and it hurts. The ice is all jagged and broken and here in the warmth and the light and the music from nowhere I cry and I run and I fall and it's warm... and it's safe... and I sob... and I sob...