Abyss
Cold sweat
Racing thoughts
Drowsiness
Void
Night terrors
A song of an angel
Weakened body
Melting wax
Circular downwards
Gliding movements
Sinking
Ocean depths
Numbness
Voiceless
Cold
Unspoken
Thoughts
Abyss
Japan Day 1 – Shinkansen from Osaka to Tokyo
My fondest memory of Japan is visiting Disneyland with my parents when I was nine years old. On the space mountain ride, I discovered my subspace. The weightless feeling of being suspended in midair by motion. The helplessness of being unable to control my fate.
The roller coaster is moving faster than the speed of light in pitch black darkness only lighted by stars. I felt empowered after the ride. I had been through the depths of sub space and back, what else is there to fear? Since then I was a thrill seeker for that adrenaline rush to free my body into that state of nothingness. In the Shinkansen writing this, I am reminded of the motion of being in a fast speed vehicle. The sounds are deafening on both sides as the landscapes are waving past in blurry vision.
Still, the Shinkansen isn’t my space mountain. My sub space now belongs to the realm of total power transfer to the master that I trust. Only he can lift me into those heights that defies gravity in his usage of suspension of ropes and control over my mind. This has been the state that I used to over come my fears to transcend from my ego to self. I still had not fully comprehend the usage of this complicated ritual of power transfer synergy in my relationships with men. But I believe it is possible, even for a brief moment of bliss. Everything else in the journey towards that sub bliss space is worth it.
The freedom that comes with weightlessness is like being suspended in two states – the state of gravity and anti gravity. In this state, there is zero pain. The usual body aches melts into liquid wax. The fears and doubts in the mind dissipate into emptiness. My spirit is united with the heavens again. I hear my name even more clearly now. My purpose grows stronger with revelation in the suspended state.
I recalled sweating all over in cold sweat after the space mountain ride. I had never experienced something like this before. How can I recreate it when I leave Disneyland forever? I found my answer with trusting my mind to men who could overpower my will. That backfired, and I lost my will for many years after an abuse on trust. Instead, I imposed my will on others and made them my submissive so I can relish in my control of their minds and bodies.
The more addicted I grew to the sensation of control, the colder I became and the more numb I felt. There was the other part of me that desired to be controlled as well but it wasn’t fulfilled. My revelations unfolded very slowly. Failed relationships after failed relationships. No one can figure out what I needed or wanted. Neither could I. I am but a vast void that no matter how much love was showered upon me, I could never feel loved.
The duality of my conflicting needs began to set into a rift and constant struggle for me to dominate or be dominated. I found every opportunity to enact these secret desires by going for gym classes that I wasn’t good in to be verbally abused by ex army sergeants, or by simply killing all my opponents mercilessly in a good game of left for dead and getting the highest scores.
I did all these subconscious things before I was even aware of doing them. I had no clue what was wrong. I just wanted my subspace, and no one seemed to be able to understand that desire of my void lies with my problem with control.
I still have not found my answers and I am still seeking for them as I transverse from Osaka to Tokyo on this high speed bullet train. The endless travels around the world this year had given me no answers to this fundamental need that is still left unfulfilled. I am on the quest on my next adventure to find that sub space once again.
Bittersweet Skies
Lost In Transition
Another day in this highly densely populated vertical city. My life revolves around shopping malls alternating with my co working office and gym. A triangle lifestyle of going to three different points on weekdays. If this is the urbanised mode of living, going from one building to the next, then I am living indoors almost the whole day. Probably as compared to trekking a hill or climbing up some cliffs, the death rate is low except for car accidents. But why do I feel so discomforted in such a safe haven?
I have a compelling urge to travel and explore the unknown territories. To drive down the roads leading up hills and right to the edge of the ocean cliffs. I want to feel uncomfortable. I want to feel challenged by my environment. But there is no mountain to climb nor ocean to see here. It’s just buildings after buildings. Food is served fast in convenience chains and franchises.
I miss my old life in Melbourne where food is served slowly, and there are endless of parks and nature to explore down trails and paths that lead to no where. I miss visiting the large pond in the university campus. It takes about half an hour to walk there but it’s worth the walk down the windy path to feed the ducks before sunset. I would meet a friend there, and she would pack extra home cooked food to share. I miss that slowness of and enjoyment of life.
Now, time is measured as money, and people are scrambling and rushing everywhere in this city. By 6pm, the lights go out and the office closes to save on electricity. The soap is automatically dispensed so that germ contamination is minimal. The public areas is cleaned multiple times a day by a throng of cleaners. It’s an OCD paradise. You probably never have to touch another human in this sterile and cold environment. The clinical aspect of this city makes me miss the warm and friendly nature of Melbournians.
I never see happy faces or smiles. Only fake polite smiles from service staff. It’s cold and distant. It’s part of city life. I don’t really like it. I feel quite foreign here. There is no realness or aliveness to anything. It’s close to being robotic. The motions are constant, the schedules do not change. It’s the same process everyday. Everything is delivered on time, precisely without any errors. It’s voted one of the best cities in the world, one of the most expensive even. But there are no humans here, only robots.
I feel a need to go into the jungle and get lost in the unknown. That is probably a more natural state of being human, is to go on a constant adventure and not know what you are in for. Not sterile robotic utopia. I believe in the organic development of creativity, not government imposed rules and regulations to meet requirements to be “innovative”. That, stifles creations. Creativity should grow naturally like plants in a forest, and not in an artificial greenhouse with added fertilizer. Being in a greenhouse kills the plants state to evolve. In the wild however, they can mutate, they can cross propagate, they can become hybrids.
I feel I am an exception to the norm of this city, I am a wild plant in this greenhouse. But it’s stifling and I feel breathless at times. It is true that it is as safe as a haven it can get with such sterile standards, but the lack of the unknown makes me dull and dream about my next road trip although I had barely landed. I don’t seem to take root in this city. I am like a drifter in the clouds, in the cloud virtual space, floating, floating. I can’t seem to settle or germinate. It’s an endless state of being lost in transition.
Discordance and Resonance
The discordance of our music jars my thoughts. I am unable to focus
on my day, on my plans, on my dreams. So untypical for a overachiever to
watch the world go by, and do nothing. The discord starts from the first note
and rings like sirens screaming like emergency bells. The noise doesn’t stop as it
goes on and on and on. Even when you talk, the sirens are ringing behind your voice
like a false prophecy, untrue promises, unresolved pain.
The resonance starts when I fantasise about a dreamscape where everything goes according to
my plans. For such a control freak I am, no stone is left upturned.
There are devas, fairies, unicorns and rainbows. There are knights and thousands of minions
at my disposal for my every whim. There is nothing I couldn’t have, as the world is below my feet.
The difference between my two worlds is such a rift that they cannot be reconciled.
It’s a choice of two paths of endless pain or endless happiness.
They are on extremes and cannot meet in the middle.
For this, I had given up on life and I had chose to live in my fantasy.
It keeps me alive to know I can change my thoughts, and slowly, I will change the world around me.
Before that day, I will continue being in the other world.
Binding Red Ropes
I breathe your soft lips
My thoughts wander
Back to the moments
You replied to every message
You never failed to respond
No matter the situation
Now the inbox is full, it is full of messages but not yours which I need to hear. Those sweet words that rolled off your tongue like the soft lips I breathe to sleep each night as your words caress me like blanketed ropes on my skin.
The ropes bind my flesh but it’s not the ropes I feel but your moving hands, they caress every inch as they embed me deeply with your marks. The marks of love that run deep into my blood as the red rope bled into my skin as it grows tighter and tighter like a coiling red snake. How I wish these ropes are your hands as I blind my flesh in this act of self mutilation while screaming your name.
No one knows or sees this part of me. It’s so deep inside me that the ropes are starting to suffocate my neck. Usually before that happens, you will respond with a word or two. But this time, there is no response. You had left me there tied in those coiled ropes.
I can’t struggle free. I can only beg for you to come back. I start to call out your name, over and over. Please, master, let me go. I will be a good girl. Please.
Please respond.
Don’t leave me here.
I love you.
Secret Agent Co-Working at Wilmar
Writing a novel is like doing a full exercise of every section of my brain with no muscles being left unused. My brain juices are squeezed dry and it’s fueled by caffeine at the moment. I am trying out a formula which is to switch a cup of coffee, followed by a cup of tea to keep going and not stop. I am at the 3 hour mark now and I had stopped. I had written the full flap copy and I have to admit the race I ran today is pretty hardcore and I have to learn how to hold back more and not push too hard or I won’t be able to do my next run tomorrow.
The office that I co-work in could be classified as a class A office building. I look really under dressed here as I do not have a need to meet anyone in a business suit, I am usually in jeans and shoes – how untypical. I got a really weird stare by this smartly dressed middle aged white man in the lift yesterday. He must be wondering how this hacker girl got into the office building. I felt he was staring at me like I was the girl with a dragon tattoo with piercings and a funky mohawk. But no! I was just in my yoga gym clothes. Erm, or maybe that is why?
I had been digesting so much books and research that my Goodreads is unable to keep up with it as my ereader is not usually connected to the internet at all times and I also do read books on my desktop and iPhone as well. That makes about three devices that I am continuously hooked up to. Boy, I do need more human contact or I will become autistic at the rate I am going. Thank god I am meeting a friend soon. Working alone has it’s disadvantage. Or maybe we are all truly alone and all else are distractions to our loneliness in this metropolis.
I had been speaking to the cleaner lady who screamed “hallelujah!” along the office corridor while she pushed her cleaning supplies cart. I learnt of her name, and like the secret agent I am, I also discovered the multiple office plans I could undertake to increase and maximise my desk usage at the lowest hourly rate possible by speaking in local slang to the receptionists and digging out more information on how much others are paying for their desks. I am such a spy in disguise! I wonder why am I not in undercover work, or maybe I AM an agent indeed!
This is my update for the day. I have to turn off my central agent database system now. My new victim is looking at my direction. Back to work.
Masochistic Pain of Love
The long nights are those nights I descend into my nightmares.
It’s a recurring scene that turns on repeat like a song on a loop.
The same sounds and sensations fill up up the darkened room
I am transported into the depths of the murky brown waters
I am descending lower and lower, deeper and deeper
I cannot feel my hands or legs nor my breathing
It seems to cease in this fleeting moment of time
As I descend into the ocean depths, pulled downwards by gravity
I jolt awake and I almost fall off the bed, like a child who woke up from a nightmare
I had fallen off the bed many times, or hit my limbs on the edges
I see bruises on parts of my body I did not know how they got there.
My pillow is soaked with tears that I did not have awareness of even crying
It has became so natural, that tears and pillow are what I sleep to and wake up to
On the long nights like this, it is hard to fall asleep.
The nightmares jolt me up every few hours.
I start to count the clock. 2am. 3am. 4am. 6am. 9am.
Are my usual waking up moments throughout the night. I sleep past the alarm and wake up at noon time, and my mornings are over.
I hate that when it happens, as my work becomes backlogged.
I am unable to accomplish half of my tasks for the day.
I try to sleep early the next day starting at 10pm. 12am. 2am. I wake up repeatedly
This loop repeats itself like a song that never ends.
This song sings a sad tune behind a blue jazz beat in a foreign language that no one seems to understand. This song wakes me up and calms me back to sleep. This is my soul song, of an unrequited masochistic pain of love.
Spinning Top
I am a spinning top, but when I fall there are no safety nets.
Just pure darkness, into the deep black hole, pulled inwards by gravity.
I am darkness and light, pain and pleasure.
I can’t tell the difference and I don’t want to.
In my twisted visions there is no reprieve from the falling,
no savoir at the end of the tunnel.
No light in the dark caverns.
There is nothing left except an empty hole.
I used to believe in happy ever afters, in love, in marriage… in kids. I used to. Now I don’t. I am a tired spent mess. In this messy maze, I cannot get out of… I can only believe in fairy tales. Why? Because I gave up on real life, and live in fantasy. In my fantasy world, I can be the Queen.. I can be supernova, I can be the light. I can save myself from the dark caverns and be that knight, instead of waiting for one. I have to find that rainbow wings to emerge out of the cocoon shell.
Sometimes I ask, if sacrificing my sanity for my art is all worth it, sometimes I say yes, sometimes I say no. But eventually I realised that it is a resonating yes. The meaning of life is the act of creation itself. There is no need for anything else. Even love suffocates you.
But creations?
They are forever.
They live on in the milky galaxy.
They never disappear.
This is my sadness and joy.
Memories
Our memories are like water in a plastic bottle. Once triggered, or poked, the water will flow out from the holes. Poke it too much and memories will drain out. Once the memories drain out, there isn’t anything left in the bottle. Till, it is repaired and refilled with fresh memories again. The beautiful thing is that this process can repeat itself till the bottle becomes thicker and thicker and no more needles can go through. But that’s the danger zone too – the only needles that can penetrate our memories are the needles directed to us by people whom we trust and love. The moment we start blocking those needles, is also the day that we lose the trust and ability to love them. The only way to overcome this is to fill the bottle up everyday with fresh loving memories full of positiveness and never ever poke the bottle.
About AVER LIM
AVERRAL - The assertion of the truth. The creator behind The Scarlet Queen YouTube and Red Hourglass Novel Series.
She does experimental flash fiction on this blog, along with song, movies and character analysis using historical and literature references.
