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Jul. 10th, 2009 08:36 amI sat in a trench last night looking out into the night sky. It’s always night in here. Nicholas likes it dark. He’s always complaining about how the sun hurts his eyes. He does this in both planes.
It occurred to me, some time after my vigil began, that I didn’t need to be in a damned trench. This mindscape is malleable. I’ve seen Nick do this. He creates chairs, cars to sit in. I’ve seen his private room through his eyes. So I tried my hand in it. It took great concentration, but after a while I created a bench.
The stone bench was set in tall grass, behind me the walled structure of Nick’s perimeter. I’d do better standing at the tops of it, looking at the vast empty landscape, but I wanted to touch the “earth”. I have a great need to feel solid land beneath my feet, even here where all the rules are different.
I don’t think Eve can go to the other side of the wall. I have a keen sense that there are only so many ways in and not all of them are “physical”. After a while I closed my eyes and stretched my thoughts around Nick’s structured area. I could feel everything “solid”.
Especially Nick. I felt him in the bio plane eating chili-cheese fries through Lila’s body. I could not hear his thoughts, but I felt his physical movement and his mind drifting from the topic at hand. I felt Lila squirm to the front, annoyed that Nick had left them out of the conversation and she had to answer a question she didn’t hear.
I wanted to know what they were thinking, but the air around them is dense and hard to walk through. It’s like quicksand or tar. It pulls you in a direction you don’t want to go. It’s tiring so I went back to my vigil.
I don’t believe Nick had any idea of these occurrences until now. He is right, this writing is communication between us. He told me I needed to do this. If I didn’t, he said, it would take longer “for you to be real”. The phrasing is odd, but I know what he means. He means “tangible”.
I’ve decided to relent on combative narratives with Nick. I understand his motivations now and how hard it is to be him. He has somehow learned to master the inner system. He does it with great ease. I assumed because he could do it, I could do it. I can, but not with his penchant for it.
It occurred to me, some time after my vigil began, that I didn’t need to be in a damned trench. This mindscape is malleable. I’ve seen Nick do this. He creates chairs, cars to sit in. I’ve seen his private room through his eyes. So I tried my hand in it. It took great concentration, but after a while I created a bench.
The stone bench was set in tall grass, behind me the walled structure of Nick’s perimeter. I’d do better standing at the tops of it, looking at the vast empty landscape, but I wanted to touch the “earth”. I have a great need to feel solid land beneath my feet, even here where all the rules are different.
I don’t think Eve can go to the other side of the wall. I have a keen sense that there are only so many ways in and not all of them are “physical”. After a while I closed my eyes and stretched my thoughts around Nick’s structured area. I could feel everything “solid”.
Especially Nick. I felt him in the bio plane eating chili-cheese fries through Lila’s body. I could not hear his thoughts, but I felt his physical movement and his mind drifting from the topic at hand. I felt Lila squirm to the front, annoyed that Nick had left them out of the conversation and she had to answer a question she didn’t hear.
I wanted to know what they were thinking, but the air around them is dense and hard to walk through. It’s like quicksand or tar. It pulls you in a direction you don’t want to go. It’s tiring so I went back to my vigil.
I don’t believe Nick had any idea of these occurrences until now. He is right, this writing is communication between us. He told me I needed to do this. If I didn’t, he said, it would take longer “for you to be real”. The phrasing is odd, but I know what he means. He means “tangible”.
I’ve decided to relent on combative narratives with Nick. I understand his motivations now and how hard it is to be him. He has somehow learned to master the inner system. He does it with great ease. I assumed because he could do it, I could do it. I can, but not with his penchant for it.