"We can work together, we don't have to fight here."
I look to the left, "Who said that?"
He laughs, "Better yet, who are you?" He steps in the missing liminal space.
His heels clap against an invisible marble floor.
"There are at least four of your digital twins. What if I told you there could be seven?" Feeys says.
He reaches towards me, hand, bejeweled in six rings... glowing. They were so bright, I could not perceive their colors on this visual spectrum.
I'm in a different place of existence, somewhere between space-time : where a temporal anomaly is occurring.
This might be because I'm activated.
I can hear them telepathically.
"I'm a precog in this universe. My watch, manipulates time through my jewelry - instead of technology like in your world line." Feeys says.
I squint at him, and a gap between our space ensues - stretching us several miles apart.
In that instant, the frame of a cherrywood door uproots from the oblivion beneath me. The smell of banana fills my senses, and I can taste... coconut?
"Something sweet? For your illusion?" Syeef walks through the doorway, creating a golden knob out of thin air before he shuts the door.
"That path ends with mommy dearest in the dirt." He circles me, clicking his tongue and sucking his teeth before he finally stops this weird pacing.
"Are you...?"
The mirror from that weird day on our porch.
"Yeah, you could call it a hallucination in your timeline. I'm the version of you, that went beyond chaotic neutral. Don't trust him." We both shoot a glance at Feeys.
His eyes glimmer, and his hair melts into a clementine scented orange. His locks grow rapidly, but not abnormally. It appears as if he's aging, yet, only his body hair - along with facial dimensions.
It's like he's doing a kind of plastic surgery body modification right before our eyes.
"See?" He laughs, "We don't have to die here!"
We stare at him.
"What?! Haha, why... ha... say something..."
He runs his palm over his scalp. And goes silent, then still.
"You're not human, are you?" Isaac severs the room.
We all look up.
"You're..."
"A giant? Like Atlas? Perhaps Uroboros in your perceptual understanding? Is this what you think of me... some kind of Superman-Egocentric archetype?" Isaac asks.
There's no ceiling... why haven't I realized there isn't a sky here.
I snap -
"I don't need the watch to rewrite time." I spit.
The light shatters and the space goes dark.
Now...
Boredom, gives the space for meditation.
In my learning of discipline, I found ethics are rooted within. Without the room for acceptance of boredom, my mind cannot be a vessel - to receive the doorway to spaces of creativity.
It is the allowance, the willingness, to let the brain wander - that fires the neurons unpredictably - both rejuvenating the imagination, and reducing the need for external media validation.
Traversing how my inner voice converses with my ego and shadow : proves to be a hermetically stoic principle | enabling a dynamic sphere / perspectivism with an appetite, and acquired taste for pallets of dopamine, serotonin, oxytocin, and endocrines of the reactionary self; juxtaposed with the body.
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R e t r o s p e c t • PSYPHY
RomanceHindsight is twenty-twenty. Although for Caasi Stintin even that is subject to change. His less than average life of mediocrity suddenly undergoes a shift. There's a death in the family. Little did he know the severity of the impact it would cause...
