Thursday, September 17, 2015

my return to the water is pure and blissful, like the global womb  i am embraced and nurtured. every cell and atom in my body knows itself in the ocean, the waves are gentle and inviting and carry me a few meters in a slow acclimatising velocity. i float around, get under, follow the currents, feel their temperature, embrace it's latent energy, let it enter my body, let it fill my thumping wild heart. clearing damage, healing some residue, fixing up my shit.
i can't explain this sensation, my relationship with the sea is powerful and necessary for survival on the land, i don't think about it to much, just let my process happen. 
later i travel to a small town, it's  strange place where an ice epidemic is apparently ravaging through, fifty percent of the population are the walking dead, my god their eyes are deranged, faces haunted by some chemical weirdness. the other half of the town is brilliantly alive and breaking through, and i'm pulled into one specific place, the apocrathy. the woman inside is quite beautiful, she wants to look into my eyes but i'm very self conscious, i've been awake all night, looking haggard and crazed, like a fugative, 'have you any acacia tea?' i suggest hoping my english accent will disarm her, looking at the rows of herbals and desperately avoiding eye contact should she notice my anomalies.
trying to be normal and cool i blow it by asking her, 'are you a witch?'
for a moment she will not answer but then says, 'yes, but i'm a good one, not a black one. i'm a green witch.'
'oh i'm fine about all witches, i love them all, black blue, purple, pink, green, i'm very witch friendly.'
she smiles.
i smile.
we laugh. 
'i think i'm going to have to return.'
'you need to give me the latin name of the acacia you want, there are so many thousands of variations.'
'okay thank you, i will find out.' 
she steps out from behind the counter and my perception kicks in, very attractive, vital intelligent energy within her eyes, hair picking up all sorts of transmissions and her voice is a labyrinth of wisdom. 
suddenly i don't want to leave that apocrathy but circumstance is closing in, outside a friend waits in his van. what can i do but leave. but before i do we both laugh at the way there's all this unsaid energy between us that we ride nowhere. i know she felt it. i have to let it go, chances are she's married or engaged with some athletic heroic type, me, i'm just a quiet bookworm who dislikes crowds and society. 
on the drive home i ponder the green witch and wonder if i will ever see her again. i wonder if she has already cast her spell upon me or is that my own flight of fancy. i look out at the car dealers and big chemist shop, i look across at the commerce and industry, i close my heavy eyelids and sink back into my chair. 
one day that witch is going to look into my eyes and i will be seeing her.




speedsexy69 said...

My name means the "White Wave Messenger"...

captain mission said...

now why don't that surprise me.
i sometimes watch those white waves, frothing up a lot of foam and get a sense of the way the wind interfaces with the ocean and then i find myself drifting into some quantum realm of m theory. after all it's all information. all part of a message, the universe is just filled with it, in every thing, each moment, each movement, we are part of it no matter how much our identities separate us.
white being a frequency that encompasses a high range of wavelengths, waves being a form of trajectory, messenger being carrier of information. makes perfect sense to me. let there be light!

speedsexy69 said...

I enjoy our interface.