The dust is falling on the diamonds. The flawless rubies are now tainted. Lyrical and whimsical, the screams shoot through the open space between the maddening stones. The screams for come from that of the children, lost in space and time. Space children, whose location is of knowledge but who has never known time as obtainable. Time children, aware of every second, every minute, every hour, every moment. They, masters of time are clueless to that of location, let alone their own.

The children of time clasp each a diamond the size of their head. They clasp it tightly against their chest, they clasp it so tightly an indentation in themselves has formed and now the diamond is halfway sunken into their tiny bodies.

The children of space, the same as the children of time all clasp a stone of their own though for the children of space it is a ruby in which they hold. Though unlike the children of time the children of space are not scared of losing their stone and are free to hold it at will. With the knowledge of all of space on their side, their stones location is always known to them. Though even so they always keep them close, as the children’s stones are the children’s life source.

When the world ended and all space and time with it, the dust settled and as the stones lost their shine, the children lost their lives.

phrenesis:

» (by platonov_pavel)

I awoke surrounded by florescent silhouettes dancing on the black walls, which surrounded me. I lay on the floor head tilted up slightly from a turtle wedged under my head. I sat up, legs still flat in front of me. Balanced by my arms behind me creating an archway beneath me for the turtle, now free from the weight of my mind to walk through.

As the turtle reached the wall of blackness and the dancing silhouettes upon, it slowly became that of the wall; Then apparent as any forming bright light in a dark room to a naked eye. Its shadow brighter than rainbows joined the others of the same immaculate vision.

I watched the figures that now danced with that of the turtle’s. Ascertaining between which of all were, whom and what. I sought out three small birds, which I assumed to be Doves flying around the room in loops and dives, a Giraffe, dancing in a way that was almost completely robotic, a pair of brides dancing together like the closest of lovers, 2 young girls holding, shape and size shifting balloons, running with 3 young boys, chasing each other from wall to wall, three thick antique books which flew like synthetic bats, out of a badly designed haunted house, an oversized scorpion that swung it’s stinger around it’s surprisingly swift moving body, like a Chinese ribbon dancer and a sun which although hardly moved at all was the most memorizing as it’s colour was but far more brighter, vivid and diverse.

I sat there for hours…

Days…

Weeks…

Years…

Time is unknown to one in a room where in does not exist…

Eventually though, I realised that all these figures whose happiness memorize me. Me who is found trapped in this black room. Were once with me in this room, though they woke before me.

If it wasn’t the kindness of the turtle holding my head off the hard cold ground the way he did and him showing me the way I would never have realised that the door to happiness was right in front of me all along. I stood up for the first time in no body could ever know how long and took the first few steps from the center of the room and towards the black walls. I faced them focusing not on the prison the walls represented but the possibility of freedom the silhouettes filled me with. As I approached them I felt their happiness. Lyric and laughter filled my ears and colour filed my vision, as every spec of black was overtaken and every piece of darkness from the prison-like room evaporated. Just as time did when I found myself in there to begin with.

The Astral Dream Plane.

Okay (currently) non-existent followers. Here’s the deal. If some of my words are assumed spelt wrong it’s because my spell check is that of the U.S at the moment so any fellow Aussies out there (if there are any) might get a little frustrated with me for the time being. Though my spelling and grammar will (hopefully) soon be reflective of my origin, just as soon as my laptop is up and running again. I want my identity to remain a mystery for the moment not that any of you Tumblr’s are likely to know who I am. I’m no celebrity. I just want full freedom to do this however I want without being restrained by fear or expectation of any kind, for any reason. I hope you enjoy what ever becomes of this blog… Sincerely, Factandmostlyfiction.