Plunge

A odd retelling of a recent drawn out experience told in a very..well 'me' fashion.

 

Wrapped safely in a thick bundle of thorns, eyes the color of the very soil which gives everything life are hard and cold as they watch the sky. Slowly, eyes trailing down the self built walls designed to both protect and imprison the thing that is observed is the only bit of life  to determinedly break through and survive the experience…thus far. A small orchid, weak, though single-minded with the thought that there was a true source of warmth and light beyond the wall of poison and deception which kept the world from seeing what lay beyond the illusion. Leaning down, slightly warmer eyes that glimmered with an odd mix of hope and apprehension peered through the hole created by the flower—unsure of what to expect and too scared to begin to hope. The orbs widen with surprise to see ones that were akin to their own—these also sparkled with  surprise. The crack seemed to crumble a bit more and thorns with walls to match were able to be seen on the other side. Dark green eyes watched the younger, cold individual with an abnormal mix of apprehension and hope which was ultimately overwhelmed by curiosity as more orchids seemed to rise out of the ground. They reached through the bit of warmth felt through the most minuscule of cracks in the walls which the one flower had already been seeking—unbeknownst  to their keeper of course. The flowers came through slowly, the wall was difficult to break and the thorns seemed to hurt the soft petals with a searing pain that was nearly crippling. Finally the gap was large enough that the one who had been trying to break free thrust a shaking hand towards the larger dominating figure.

Several long heartbeats passed between the two before the hand was grasped and around them grew another flower; this one wrapped around them and held them together as tentative smiles were exchanged.

 

Green eyes tinged with gold become brighter as long nails travel through even longer hair, tugging lightly and dragging gently. Trained ears listen carefully for the slightest noise of protest but instead hear slight murmurings of encouragement. A pleased smile draws up the corner of dried lips as suddenly bold hands travel lower to rest upon the other's pulse point. Electricity travels through both of them as suddenly bold lips touch the side of the other's head slowly--contrasting the fire that is speeding through both their veins. Both bodies are tensed and relaxed at the same time and are torn between two familiar, yet completely uncharted paths. A fear of the past clouds both their visions as brown and green eyes close, wounds that were never quite allowed to heal ebb  painfully against their minds and hearts as they see shadows and demons down the paths that may or may not be there. The fear of the past repeating itself practically brings them to their knees it is so overwhelming...

But this does not stop the flames tearing through them at the other's mere skin to theirs--such an unusual fire compared to the sparks of other's.

 

Tentative but determined lips finally touch and they are both gone. Hands grapple insistently onto one another, though they have no real destination and no plan they are frantic and determined. As if they are caught in a tornado a whirlwind sweeps between them, taking their sanity, their control,  their very thoughts away between one breath and the next. Caught in the storm there is nothing holding them back and nothing else to feel or see around them. The world consists of them within the cyclone – but there is no eye—no calmness to be found, just the two completely lost in a world of their own, all the iron unmovable features that they usually prided themselves on so much are completely gone. Were they coherent they would be completely puzzled by this sudden unforeseeable change. There is nothing between them now, no distinction; just frantic need to have the other closer, energy, need and feelings are conveyed through breathes against the other’s skin. They are lost in pure feeling; urges, wants, but something that goes beyond pure lust. It is a deeper, more instinctual desire that both have been craving for so long that once the wind came down on them so strongly—not only could they not defend against it…They didn’t particularly want to.

In the end one reached through the wall of emotion and grasped onto a shard of reality and brought them down—but like the ending of any great storm…Their possessions, what grounded them into reality, their self preservation instincts, common sense, sanity, fears, paranoia and all other barriers settled around them   haphazardly and it would be some time before they were all reclaimed and properly put back where they belonged.

Tired, scared, and overwhelmed one yearns for the other. For any source of comfort in an even more frigid world than seemed to exist before that one terrifying moment that snuck up on a relaxed body like a predator does their prey. Gripped by the unknown and wrapped in thorns one wanders wherever they can to try and find sanctuary from an enemy that could, very well, exist only within a paranoid and imaginative mind. This knowledge made no difference and brought no light to a darkened heart as eyes and hands fought the urge to shake and wide eyes struggled to distinguish mere suspicions from reality. A warm hand reaches out and a smaller one takes it, crawling into an environment that would normally cause anxiety with an eagerness that, surprisingly enough is not alarming in the least. Curled against a warm side, one rushed heartbeat slowing as it caused the other to pick up speed the wave of fear is replaced as a wave of comfort and calmness takes over both bodies and minds. Worries and stresses from the day are forgotten as both feel a sudden content, serene feeling that sweeps them away like the most beautiful, dangerous stream which they tried to dip their toes in but the water would not let them indulge only partially.

With this, as with everything for them, it was either al l or nothing—and more often than either liked to admit—they were not really given a choice in the matter.

The green eyes held a capricious spirit behind them and it was hard for the grounded one to grasp the other’s hand firmly though not with a crippling strength. It was thought, because one had a stronger grasp on reality than the other, whom all assumed to be lost, logically the one who was earth personified was meant to be the grounding force behind the other, whimsical, flighty half. The warmer of the two held no shape for long, and was constantly curious, circling this new anchor—testing and prodding to see if it would change, if it would adapt as it’s own spirit did. However the earthen one refused to change.  Even as the willful spirit circled the other, trying to lure it into changing shape—stepping away from it’s self-built prison or even simply extending the self-built chain which bonded it so—as the ever changing one had done. It was the incessant tugging upon the walls that the earth found so comforting and permanent which caused the thorns to slowly interweave themselves between the soft petals and the callous skin of the earth. The flowers tried to push through, but the burning was too strong and there seemed to be none of the comforting warmth that emanated before. The petals asked to be redeemed for the relentless tugging but none was given. Slowly the flowers withered, along with the fissure in which they had fought so hard to create that was a semi-safe passage for them through the thorns. As the petals slowly began to dry and recede back into the spirit from whence they came, both parties continued to withdraw their attempts to save the other. All too much, too fast, not meant to happen: these things were murmured as the brown eyes watched the barbed net repair itself while the acidic air around the spirit close by continued to lash out as a defense before the attack against those that were not enemies. As the soil watched the other from a safe distance words wrapped themselves around the cold warmth that was their body heat…

“There are five. Five elements that bind us all to one another, from the smallest animal to the largest oak tree and one person to another; there are some who fear their full connection to what we are—for they have been scorned by one or more of them. If we meet another who has the ability to shred the obstacles which keep us from truly experiencing what is ours, that sometimes we keep from ourselves or we have not been given the option; that is a great, and terrifying gift. If one does not choose to truly experience themselves and kindred spirit they will be ‘fine’ for the rest of their being; but the question is, if you do not experience all that you, yourself have to offer, does everything else not simply fail in comparison? If you can’t have yourself, what do you deserve to have, and is everything else still worth it? Humans are given such a short span to experience life—the biggest shame is that they waste so much on fear and worry of what could go wrong. As they prepare for both the best and the worst their chances pass them by. You may walk away from the cliff unscathed—but won’t you always wonder what it would have been like to jump into the water with gusto? Not the middle cliff, the one for those wanting to try but not truly risk it—experiences are not about security—but won’t you envy those unafraid to take the plunge?”

 

 

Wrapped safely in a thick bundle of thorns, eyes the color of the very soil which gives everything life are hard and cold as they watch the sky. Slowly, eyes trailing down the self built walls built to both protect and imprison the eyes see the only thing to determinedly break through and survive the experience…thus far. A small orchid, weak, though single-minded  with the thought that there was a true source of warmth and light beyond the wall of poison and deception which kept the world from seeing what lay beyond the illusion. Leaning down, slightly warmer eyes that glimmered with a odd mix of hope and apprehension peered through the hole created the hold—unsure of what to expect and too scared to begin to hope. The eyes widen with surprise to see ones that matched their own watching—these also widened in surprise. The hole seemed to crumble a bit more and thorns and walls to match were able to be seen on the other side. Dark green eyes watched the younger, cold individual with a abnormal mix of apprehension and hope which was ultimately overwhelmed by curiosity as more orchids seemed to rise out of the ground. They reached through the bit of warmth felt through the most minute of cracks in the walls which the one flower had already been seeking—unbeknownst  to their keeper of course. The flowers came through slowly, the wall was difficult to break and the thorns seemed to hurt the soft petals with a searing pain that was nearly crippling. Finally the hole was large enough that the one who had been trying to break free thrust a shaking hand towards the larger dominating figure.

Several long heartbeats passed between the two before the hand was grasped and around them grew another flower; this one wrapped around them and held them together as tentative smiles were exchanged.

 

Green eyes tinged with gold become brighter as long nails travel through even longer hair, tugging lightly and dragging gently. Trained ears listen carefully for the slightest noise of protest but instead hears slight murmurings of encouragement. A pleased smile draws up the corner of dried lips as suddenly bold hands travel lower to rest upon the other's pulse point. Electricity travels through both of them as suddenly bold lips touch the side of the other's head slowly--contrasting the fire that is speeding through both their veins. Both bodies are tensed and relaxed at the same time and are torn between two  familiar, yet completely uncharted paths. A fear of the past clouds both their visions as brown and green eyes close, wounds that were never quite allowed to heal ebb ebb painfully against their minds and hearts as they see shadows and demons down the paths that may or may not be there. The fear of the past repeating itself practically brings them to their knees it is so overwhelming...

But this does not stop the flames tearing through them at the other's mere skin to theirs--such an unusual fire compared to the sparks of other's.

 

Tenative but determined lips finally touch and they are both gone. Hands grapple insistently onto one another, though they have no real destination and no plan they are frantic and determined. As if they are caught in a tornado a whirlwind sweeps between them, taking their sanity, their control,  their very thoughts away between one breath and the next. Caught in the storm there is nothing holding them back and nothing else to feel or see around them. The world consists of them within the cyclone – but there is no eye—no calmness to be found, just the two completely lost in a world of their own, all the iron unmovable features that they usually prided themselves on so much are completely gone. Were they coherent they would be completely dumbfounded. There is nothing between them now, no distinction; just frantic need to have the other closer, energy, need and feelings are conveyed through breathes against the other’s skin. They are lost in pure feeling; urges, wants, but something that goes beyond pure lust. It is a deeper, more instinctual desire that both have been craving for so long that once the wind came down on them so strongly—not only could they not defend against it…They didn’t particularly want to.

In the end one reached through the wall of emotion and grasped onto a shard of reality and brought them down—but like the ending of any great storm…Their possessions, what grounded them into reality, their self preservation instincts, common sense, sanity, fears, paranoia and all other barriers settled around them haphazardly and it would be some time before they were all reclaimed and properly put back where they belonged.

Tired, scared, and overwhelmed one yearns for the other. For any source of comfort in an even more frigid world than seemed to exist before that one terrifying moment. Gripped by the unknown and wrapped in thorns one wanders wherever they can to try and find sanctuary from an enemy that could, very well, exist only within a paranoid and imaginative mind. This knowledge made no difference and brought no light to a darkened heart as eyes and hands fought the urge to shake and wide eyes struggled to distinguish mere suspicions from reality. A warm hand reaches out and a smaller one takes it, crawling into a environment that would normally cause anxiety with an eagerness that, surprisingly enough is not alarming in the least. Curled against a warm side, one rushed heartbeat slowing as it caused the other to pick up speed the wave of fear is replaced as a wave of comfort and calmness takes over both bodies and minds. Worries and stresses from the day are forgotten as both feel a sudden content, serene feeling that sweeps them away like the most beautiful, dangerous stream which they tried to dip their toes in but the water would not let them indulge only partially.

With this, as with everything for them, it was either al l or nothing—and more often than either liked to admit—they were not really given a choice in the matter.

The green eyes held a capricious spirit behind them and it was hard for the grounded one to grasp the other’s hand firmly though not too strong. It was thought, one had a stronger grasp on reality than the other, whom all assumed to be lost, so logically the one who was earth personified was meant to be the grounding force behind the other, whimsical, flighty half. The warmer of the two held no shape for long, and was constantly curious, circling this new anchor—testing and prodding to see if it would change, if it would adapt as it’s own spirit did. However the earthen one refused to change.  Even as the willful spirit circled the other, trying to lure it into changing shape—stepping away from it’s self-built prison or even simply extending the self-built change which bonded it so—as the ever changing one had done. It was the incessant tugging upon the walls that the earth found so comforting and permanent which caused the thorns to slowly interweave themselves between the soft petals and the callous skin of the earth. The flowers tried to push through, but the burning was too strong and there seemed to be none of the comforting warmth that emanated before. The petals asked to be redeemed for the relentless tugging but none was given. Slowly the flowers withered, along with the fissure in which they had fought so hard to create that was a semi-safe passage for them through the thorns. As the petals slowly began to dry and recede back into the spirit from whence they came, both parties continued to withdraw their attempts to save the other. All too much, too fast, not meant to happen: these things were murmured as the brown eyes watched the barbed net repair itself while the acidic air around the spirit close by continued to lash out as a defense before the attack. As the soil watched the other from a safe distance words wrapped themselves around the cold warmth that was their body heat…

“There are five. Five elements that bind us all to one another, from the smallest animal to the largest oak tree and one person to another; there are some who fear their full connection to what we are—for they have been scorned by one or more of them. If we meet another who has the ability to shred the obstacles which keep us from truly experiencing what is ours, that sometimes we keep from ourselves or we have not been given the option; that is a great, and terrifying gift. If one does not choose to truly experience themselves and kindred spirit they will be ‘fine’ for the rest of their being; but the question is, if you do not experience all that you, yourself have to offer, does everything else not simply fail in comparison? If you can’t have yourself, what do you deserve to have, and is everything else still worth it? Humans are given such a short span to experience life—the biggest shame is that they waste so much on fear and worry of what could go wrong. As they prepare for both the best and the worst their chances pass them by. You may walk away from the cliff unscathed—but won’t you always wonder what it would have been like to jump into the water with gusto? Not the middle cliff, the one for those wanting to try but not truly risk it—experiences are not about security—but won’t you envy those unafraid to take the plunge?”

 

Reviews

[deeps]

Wow! This is a very impressive write here. It holds truth in it as well. I like this alot. I like how you have it broke down as well. This is a very well written write here. I liked this alot.