Beyond The Looking Glass - Words of the Unseen - Chapter 47

in Scholar and Scribe2 months ago

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𝓦𝓸𝓻𝓭 𝓫𝔂 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓪𝓾𝓽𝓱𝓸𝓻

Beyond The Looking Glass is the second book in the Unseen series, a story that came to me from the other side. A story where I thought I was just the narrator until I heard the Words of the Unseen.

This second story goes beyond time and place and mixes the long ago with the here and now. Because history keeps repeating, until we learn and do something about it.

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Beyond The Looking Glass - Words of the Unseen - Chapter 47

Dear Reader, I am picking up the pace.

I have somewhere I need to be..

For a little while I might not make sense to you, but it´s a combined clusterfuck of my mindset and your shortcomings.

I can only advise you not to worry. To simply get a taste of my mind, to swallow and digest.

There are many more sides to me than you have witnessed so far, growing up I was unhatched going in all directions. Thinking I know best. Let me be, I will figure out I know nothing when I am good and ready. But I will only get there if nobody blocks the road that I must travel

I will only get there if nobody blocks the road that I must travel. I travel light, carrying my memories and my ideas. And an unseen backpack with traumas I am not yet aware off.

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Oh, that way too white room.
My head hurts just thinking about it.
And it does not help that the words "I can't reach him," echo through my mind as I try to get rid of all that white.

And then out of nowhere, there's ´the hand of God´, not that I believe in God but sometimes someone suddenly turns on the light in the dusty attic of my brain room.

And all was good and clear, well, as far as I ever see anything clearly. I see the images again.

This wasn't a burst blood vessel, this was what I saw before I woke up in that damn hospital.

That beautiful girl with those slim shoulders and somewhat wide hips, it is all coming back, as if a can of memories has been opened.

I often have this experience that I think am reliving in real life something I once dreamed of. But never does a dream come back so vividly that it makes the vague memory I had of it reappear.

This is really crazy, but fun crazy even though I have no idea what to do with it. This time it does come back, this time I do remember everything I saw in that dream.

Nancy moves restlessly next to me, "let's go," she groans half asleep.

Gentleman as I am, I bring her home first, and when two dark eyes look at me invitingly or questioningly as we call it, I say no.

Tired and with my own bed as an excuse, I leave and go my way home.

It's good to end things like this, having sex now is asking for more drama. Actually, I'm much too young to think about sex like that, I should be chasing my dick without any eye for consequences.

At least that's what I see in the popular American films for people my age.

For me the drama would not have been worth the ejaculation, I'll play with my balls myself it´s more efficient and will save a lot of time because the added value of having a girlfriend was in other things than having a sperm container.

Finally, I arrive home and even though it´s morning already I crawl into my bed in the room that I hadn't outgrown yet, going to Tilburg plays in my head.

Away from here, away from everything and everyone, finally away. It was getting closer every day, that moment of doing everything myself.

That moment I had been looking forward to for so many years. Last night was the eve of this morning´s approaching end. The end that starts a new beginning.

The lack of sleep and the residues of non-natural substances made it epic. I was cutting ties, leaving everything behind. My life was finally starting, "But what is your life, what is your purpose?"

Who the what, I get up, walk to the door, and pull it open "Did you call?" I shout downstairs but it remains silent.

While it was as if that voice was next to me or otherwise directly behind my door. I blamed my schizo skull but the question kept haunting me.

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If everything is only temporary, if we are molecules, that return to dust, dust that eventually turns to molecules again, then what is my life? What does it matter? Why do I want to live my life so much, go my way? A path that leads nowhere, what was the point?

The point is there is no point, that is the only thing I can conclude from what life has shown me so far. Therefore I will accept that this series of moments has no other meaning than to be lived through.

To be enjoyed, to be experienced, and to enable one for more future experiences. My eye, on my future. I wanted to live my life by my rules for as long as I can remember.

This studying thing on the other side of the country is the best thing that could have happened, I close my eyes and picture my life where I am in charge.


Next Chapter Coming in Two Days


Click Back Button to Start with Book One

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