Imagine standing on the bow of a doubtful craft under full sail, through unchartered waters in the dark.
Daydream. Shift. Altered state. Split. Doorway.
When I could barely navigate the bare wooden floor, I flew. Too young to speak evidently, I couldn’t tell them. It usually happened early in the morning when she left me in the cage too long… or at nap time, when I would go into that middle place, that zone of in-between. Or at night when other things flew too.
I don’t remember ever leaving the house, or rather, the ceiling… but it was fun to be free, to swish around the place like a flash of light… I was a highly animated emotional kid. I asked a lot of questions and got few answers.
Whenever things got really bad around there, bad sadness, deep darkness would come, and there became a void. At an early age I developed the natural skill to step out, split the view, if you will. My left eye…
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