"Cigarette Before..."

 

This is the best representation of what I felt the other night, along side what I've already put in ink. Again, I might regret writing this, but again, how can I not when it's about healing?

I must.

This time, no soundtrack, just a verbal painting.

With a heavy heart...I present to you 'Cigarette Before...'.

I felt every step in my calves, my legs moving through the feeling of collapse and ache. I can't explain the landscape to you because there isn't one. I've been walking in a void, a place of nothingness, like something out of a horror movie. Like those scenes where it looks like there's an inch depth of water and just enough overhead light to let you know that...now take away the water and the light.

Pitch black nothing.

My legs are still moving and sometimes I forget because there is no reference point to show movement. No foot steps...no sound of foot steps. That just hit me. I stand still. I jump.

Nothing.

Now I'm starting to panic...now it's setting in that the world isn't here. We aren't on the same plane. Mental erection. Mind fucked. Mentally horny.

It's at this point that my chest becomes illuminated. From inside. I'm glowing and it's coming from my lungs...I finally knew it...cancer. The light flickers and my eye twitches. Okay, not cancer. Where am I? Nothing. Why am I here?

Rapid flickering.

Okay. Getting somewhere...Can you show me why I'm here?

...good question...painful, but good...

My spine is on fire. It feels like sweating into an open wound. Instant, nerve shattering pain. Then it stops. No pain, like that didn't just happen...I know what I felt. The light spreads to every part of me. It starts like specks, illumination going from cell to cell. Then into speeding arteries and veins. Subways. I had to laugh because they looked like glowing subways. Now the sheets, the lays of skin, each layering over the others like watching your genetic code scroll across the screen of existence.

The warmth came next. It didn't come from me, it floated in from what I guess is above and cascaded down from behind and wrapped itself around me like a comforter. It felt like the purple blanket, just thick enough, so elegantly soft and it made your eyes heavy when it went across your cheek. I felt tears stream down my face. Happy, fantastically bio-luminescent tears.

I felt weightless. I was weightless. My legs relaxed and began to lift off of the pressure of my body, as if I was being cradled. The warmth passed through my body, taking part of the light from inside me with it. It spread itself wide in front of me and kept growing. It seems endless now. It's enveloped me in a bubble. I like it here. It's comfortable like I can't describe. It's everything.

Gravity, oxygen, light, comfort...it's all here. No hunger. No pain. No worry. My mind is in awe at the simplicity of this place. I ask another question...What is this? Before the words crossed my teeth my ears began to buzz ever so lightly. Okay. I'm listening. The buzz is slow and low, like a turbine whirring off in the distance.

BANG!

The buzz winds up to a gunshot instantly. It feels like my ear is bleeding. I reach to touch it and nothing. I don't have arms. Now my nose feels like it's bleeding. I'm crying again. No happy tears this time. Now I'm paralyzed with fear and terror and sheer want to not be here. It's pitch black again. Where it all go? Where is this? Why here again?

The warmth is gone. The light is gone. I scream but I can't even hear my own voice. My body isn't here. No matter how hard I try to look in any direction this is absolute nothingness.

I'm just eyes.

I'm scared.

Where's my blanket?

Where's everything?

My eyes get heavy. I think I'm asleep. If that's the case, then what was before? I try to keep my mind together and rest...sleep...whatever it is that I'm doing in what or where ever this is.

Eyes open. With blurry vision I try to capture anything at this point. A speck of dust. A glimmer of light. As my sight settles I can see my body again, lit up like before. All directions, turning and turning and turning...no bubble.

There's less light than before. That's what catches my eye. My light is dim and quivering, like an open flame near a cracked window, wavering sorrowfully.

More sad tears.

The little light flickers. Wavers. Dances weakly inside me. I look up, or forward, or where ever and I watch as the little light slowly dances up and out in front of me. It lingers and dances for a few moments then slowly moves closer to me. My eyes squint as it gets closer and closer, until it grazes my nose. An eskimo kiss.

The light is gone.

It's pitch black again.

I feel empty but calm.

I wake up soaked in sweat, cold and shivering, alone.

I feel calm, empty yet fulfilled, sad but okay.