29 December 2018
One might think of writing as a peaceful, calming act. Although that is true, sometimes, the essence of writing is not quite peaceful. It is brutal if done truthfully. Writing, in all its forms, could be a means of exploration. Any uninformed exploration could be dangerous.
However, you would like to take the risk. Thus, you sit to write in order to step into a fragment of the unknown…
The journey begins by wandering cluelessly in this bizarre forest. If you’re fortunate, you might encounter a tall waterfall you never thought could have existed. Excitement rushes in your veins to see what was promised.
And you are fortunate, indeed. Oh, she is undoubtedly marvellous! Her astonishment hooked your soul.
“Come… Come closer…” says she. “I have a present for you.”
What are you waiting for? Off you go! For no gift is better than that of given by the falling water.
You are now at the bottom of the waterfall near a lake which is blessed to be drinking from the endless flow of life. There is a big rock that offers the opportunity of standing near the flowing water. Go! Go closer! Climb on the motionless observer of the wild. It’s a breath-taking struggle to get on the rock. Finally, you’re lucky to be standing on it.
“Closer…” whispers the water.
“I’m here standing in front of you! There’s not much space to get any closer!”
An idea forms in your mind that you wish it would never have occurred to you. There might be something behind the falling water, you would think to yourself. The unknown! You can’t see what’s behind it unless you go past that.
“What are you hiding behind yourself?” you ask her.
“Perhaps what you seek.”
You can’t see. Maybe it’s just rocks. Or, maybe there is a cave.
No it can’t be. No cave can be behind her. But how do you know? You can’t see. Perhaps she is the keeper of a cave with a snake the size of a dragon in it waiting mouth wide open to greet you in the most admirably warm manner.
“Closer…” whispers she again.
“Oh, stop it for god’s sake!” you shout. She is quite mysterious. That makes her inviting. She doesn’t fancy the heavy sweat on your face. The bone-shaking anxiety of yours can be sensed from miles away. You are weak! Stop shivering, you fool! Even a rat could defeat you.
Hold your head, and breathe deeply. You can just turn and walk away, and live cowardly for the ages to come. What do you choose?
So you have chosen the courageous path of discovery. Good! Touch the water to examine her. That’s the first step to examine anything. Be grateful that she’s not far away from reach. Be grateful that she’s touchable.
You reach your hand to touch the water with your forefinger, and then you tug your hand after wetting your finger with the sharp-cold falling water. Cold is good. Now you have to be willing to freeze in order to see what she is hiding.
Wait! You don’t know what’s behind her! That dragon-like snake can devour you alive. Oh, poor you! I hope he will have mercy on you and start from your head not your feet so that the horror won’t be as significant as being sucked the hell from the feet, slowly and painfully by the piercing fangs of the beast.
Or perhaps there is no such beast in that hidden dark cave. It could be something different. Perhaps you will hear the weeping of an innocent child and his loving mother. What are they doing in that cave? You might want to know. Go see for yourself.
So loud the cry of a child rings in your ears. So loud that any moment now the cave may collapse. Why does his cry only get louder in time? Open your eyes, and see. His mother has locked him to the ground with her claws. Her elbows pressing him down from the waist while her poisonous lips keep touching the bloodless torn legs. Weeping she is, dropping tears on the powerless flesh she bites. You are filled with terror, but you have to do something! Attack her! Rescue the child! Choke her to death! So you do. She’s dead now the child-eating mother.
He is still crying the child, not for pain but the fear. The fear that squeezes his rapid-beating heart when he gazes at your eyes only to see the burning fire. And then, he loses the fear to your teeth when you rip his throat while the roaring of your nature echoes in the cave.
Wipe that mouth of yours from the sweet blood of a one year-old! You are a murderer, of a child and loving mother. Shame!
Or maybe what you will see in the cave of horror isn’t a mother chewing on her son’s leg.
Maybe you will see the most glorious thing in existence. The truest laughter will burst from the depth of your soul. Your eyes will be filled with tears, for the beauty is beyond all possibilities. Surrender to it; it has the greatest power.