"The door is open. You might want to step in."
As I opened my mind, the rusty voice said.
"Where are you? I'm here like you asked." I cracked a whisper in reply.
"The door is always open."
"But I'm here. Show yourself!!" I was getting anxious. Every passing moment felt like and aeon and every sound brought with it a hope, accompanied by an unidentified dread. Where was I? In a dream? Or was this a delusion? Was I going insane? Or could this be grass?
"Embrace yourselfand step ahead. your way is clear. The door is open."
"But I see nothing."
"You see when you want to see."
With an enormous effort I closed my eyes and pushed my imagination, but in vain. I was getting panicky. Suffocation beheld me.With ever pulse of strength in my body I wanted to return to reality or I would explode with the uneasiness that had stung me at the back of my neck .
"Release me! from the delusion that you cast on me. With a sweet hope of unison and I could not resign, beheld by the aura of your entity." I waited in that vast nothingness, for the voice to guide me, but none came.
"Languished I ask you to speak." The sound of that voice was like a drug to me, its absence made me suffocate even more.
"Where are you?" I screamed at the top of my voice, expecting a reply, but none came.
The craving for that voice infected me like a brooding miasma, that I could bear it no more. I wanted it like water to drink, like air to breathe. I needed it desperately to survive.
My breath drew short. I felt dizzy. And my head began to swirl as I fell into the depths of another delusional dimension, where everything started to take form of its own. Or was it my brooding imagination controling the creation and destruction of this land?
And as it stuck me, the mist began to clear. And like a fundamental reality, I could see the door standing in the bright emptiness of infinite. I stepped inside, and to my utter relief, she was there. this had to be her. She needed no descriptive explanation, her voice defined her beauty.
"Welcome,Son, to the origin of thoughts." She said in her rusty voice. Her beauty defining the aura of this mystic land.
"Where am I?"
"You are at the origin of motion, of time, of everthing dynamic. You"re at the origin of your own dynamic imagination."
"Who are you?"
"I am your sanity. And this is where you belong. In a realm of sempiternal isolation, when you belong with me."
