Do you hear it?
No wait...
Listen.
Open your ears...
you hear the wind don't you?
Or perhaps it's the rain...
often the two sound alike,
but you can still hear...
a whispering,
words...
behind this sound,
and you realize that the voice is familiar...
and speaking things that break you out of the numb cold,
that has invaded you lately...
'An invitation...
an invite,
Sir and MadMadam...
to a Belated Christmas,
and an early new year celebration...
for this is not our Christmas,
this is a party of another kind...
For those who toil through the late hours,
and bear bonds that are not visible...
not to the naked eye at least,
For those who cannot...
and perhaps have never wanted,
For those who are tired in bone...
and heart,
For those who went without...
this is a celebration of Mayhem,
and a night of thrill and Far Away...
now,
To access that path that shall lead thee to us...
Go into the barest,
most forgotten room you know of...
It does not matter where,
and it is guaranteed...
that this day there shall be a clock there that you never before noticed,
a clock with a glass face...
Listen.
To it's deep noise...
a gong that shudders through the souls of your feet,
to your head...
Look,
inwards...
see the numbers reflected in the glass,
and reflected back and back...
and back again through your eyes,
say the words...
Magia Scura.
Let the journey begin.'
The voice ends...
and you find yourself doing as it asked,
standing solitary before times mirror...
and a clock you've never seen before,
and all at once you feel yourself travelling...
past buildings that decay at rapid speeds,
and curious lights that dance above the sea...
scattered music follows you and guides,
and you feel yourself eventually settling...
back beneath your ribs and skin,
you are Elsewhere now.
Dust...
is everywhere,
thick at your feet...
and falling through beams of light,
through the wiry shadows...
and you walk,
forward...
towards the strangest of lights,
just around the curve of the corridor...
just out of reach,
always ahead...
but then,
you come upon it...
not a light,
not a being...
but a small hallway,
Shattered mirrors cover the walls...
and torn red curtains hang from banisters,
shell lights emit a faint glow...
Then...
the whispers again,
'This floor that you walk...
be older than time,
the Red Mirror Room they called it...
and it is still known by,
careful not to gaze too closely at the mirrors...
Don't let parts of yourself be fractured away,
for the mirrors carry beating hearts....
and reaching arms to bind,
to snatch a piece of yourself into its depths...
and mark you as its own,'
You travel on...
past the fabled light of that room,
and into another spinning vortex of hues...
that whisk you away from There,
You feel the world open up beneath you...
and laughter drawing you down,
you feel a speed course through your veins...
and you begin to sprint on,
faster and faster you move...
the world becoming pulsing flashes about you,
you are not out of breath...
you are not in pain,
and your feet hardly touch the ground...
you spirit through tangled woods,
and beside rivers and caves...
through snow and blizzard you scurry on,
and through warm waters...
across open plains,
until eventually...
you arrive,
at a sight that catches your eye...
a whale dying upon a cold beach,
beside a statue made of pale white stone...
a spinning image of a peculiar bird,
just in flight...
and behind it,
a jetty that travels out way past the white break...
and to the shores of an island,
long ago...
long away,
long locked away in your memory...
You reach out to touch,
the whale upon its side...
you feel its secrets,
its stories...
its clues,
rushing into you...
and as it passes away you hear the sound,
of a thousand hounds baying...
a thousand hills breaking,
and yet...
you know,
that you too must pass on....
too,
across the jetty...
above the toiling blue,
and reach the other side...
of sea,
You sprint across the pale wood boards...
the sea cascading into your ears and mind,
and you see creatures there...
through the corners of your sight,
strange pale fish...
that glisten with diamond scales,
peculiar ones with spikes and shifting colours...
a million eyes,
and ten transparent floating bodies...
seahorses the size of pennies,
Until finally you arrive...
at the party set for you,
with all you have long dreamed of...
You are ushered into a mansion upon the beach,
you are drawn into the party...
by a pale figure,
tall and watching...
and you realize that as such,
you are fashionably late...
a hundred different faces grin and laugh back at you,
and delicacies and splendours are offered to you at every turn...
you find that although you cannot recall,
being to this place before,
you find nearly everyone familiar...
a face that made you smile,
a word someone spoke to you...
all the fragments of people you have met,
here in the mansion by the lagoon....
and they...well,
they treat you like an old friend...
You find yourself losing track,
of everything that has been within your mind...
all the terror fades away to nothing,
and you lose track of time...
how long have we all been here,
a year?
A century...
we do not care.
Let it continue on and on...
until we are as light and high as the air,
you solemnly agree...
and as the stars burst into all their brilliance outside,
you see the many different lanterns...
flickering on and on,
lighting our warm dusk and then evening...
we race through corridors,
that lead through other corridors...
laughing so hard it's painful,
we are free from it all...
as we play our ridiculous games,
come run with us...
put on the leering masks we give to you,
and do whatsoever thy will...
throw plates,
engage in mock fighting...
throw cream pies in each others faces,
a good old game of hide and seek...
the night sky spins on,
as you drink cocktails in the breaking waves...
and you know that it will never end,
As first light creaks its way in...
we remember watching the galaxies,
creating names for the stars...
and stars of our own,
some lay entwined in the arms of others...
in the many nooks and crannies,
that scatter this place...
some have simply faded away,
while others float off with the tide...
in broken rafts and upended umbrellas,
You make your way to the grand table...
and remember the millions of coloured bottles,
that the night before we drank...
the way we shrieked and danced,
high above the floor...
pounding our feet against its' wooden surface,
but now it is set out with an early morning feast...
cinnamon scrolls that melt into caramel in your mouth,
whiting on toast...
hot chocolate and thousands of berries,
pancakes stacked ten feet high...
dripping with maple radiance and cream,
Anything you could imagine...
and then once you've eaten,
you see the pale figure approach you...
and smile gently at you,
they place a hand upon your shoulder...
and guide you away from the still-remaining people,
You hear them speak...
and their presence surrounds you,
'Away now dear...
from the mansion by the sea,
a century you have been gone...
and everything is new,
you have a clean slate to start again...
for all of that is forgotten,
and now you start once more...
Open your eyes.'
You do...
not realizing that you had them closed,
and gone is the ocean...
gone is the island,
and there you kneel...
hand pressed against your clock,
it is dark now...
so ever dark,
yet an island shining gold rests in your heart...
you take the clock into your arms,
feel it beating against your frame...
and with the smallest of grins,
and no fear no fear...
you walk out into the night,
and back towards home.
and stars of our own,
some lay entwined in the arms of others...
in the many nooks and crannies,
that scatter this place...
some have simply faded away,
while others float off with the tide...
in broken rafts and upended umbrellas,
You make your way to the grand table...
and remember the millions of coloured bottles,
that the night before we drank...
the way we shrieked and danced,
high above the floor...
pounding our feet against its' wooden surface,
but now it is set out with an early morning feast...
cinnamon scrolls that melt into caramel in your mouth,
whiting on toast...
hot chocolate and thousands of berries,
pancakes stacked ten feet high...
dripping with maple radiance and cream,
Anything you could imagine...
and then once you've eaten,
you see the pale figure approach you...
and smile gently at you,
they place a hand upon your shoulder...
and guide you away from the still-remaining people,
You hear them speak...
and their presence surrounds you,
'Away now dear...
from the mansion by the sea,
a century you have been gone...
and everything is new,
you have a clean slate to start again...
for all of that is forgotten,
and now you start once more...
Open your eyes.'
You do...
not realizing that you had them closed,
and gone is the ocean...
gone is the island,
and there you kneel...
hand pressed against your clock,
it is dark now...
so ever dark,
yet an island shining gold rests in your heart...
you take the clock into your arms,
feel it beating against your frame...
and with the smallest of grins,
and no fear no fear...
you walk out into the night,
and back towards home.
Happy 2014 lovely ones...
I'm sorry for the lack of Blogs lately, my computer's been horrid and so has Fate, hmmm but in other ways he's been very generous lately. [Don't tempt Fate too much, he has a wicked habit of proving me and others wrong].
I wish you all a fearless Christmas and New Year...that you survive to see something better than what you've known. Keep forward: No Fear.
A New Year's Resolution?
Have my book receive a contract by this time next year...or at least have been submitted to every publisher on my list.
What is the weirdest resolution you've ever made?
Much Love,
Miss CLScarlett xx
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