Yellow Orbs

By Blue_Notebook

Definitely enough I will describe to you the manner of which such devious hypnosis managed to swirl its way into my deepest recesses. And strictly I will assure you that not even I can be so sure if I can ever be released (or if you will covet a lot more truthful statement, I may say that I am not guaranteed any release by my own heart and soul) from this frivolous escapade.


Throughout the years of my obnoxious existence (only an iota of being it, I pray), never did a glimpse of this world suffice my folly-induced phantasms. Some may treat me as the inferno of Dante for asking such ineffable request from this ignoble society, but none of it mattered. Or at least none of it can ever make a slight scratch upon my diamond scorches upon them, the naive spectacles of this dreamy realm. All of it remained as is until one scream-y night, a shadow came up to my hollow bed, searching perhaps for that one carcass that should lie on it until dawn. But alas! It found but a strand of body hair mixed with the slightly odorous scent of sweat and misery.


The shadow gloomed and hovered all over the blind place and it almost retreated with a call for my name when my own beating of heart betrayed me. From outside of my grim window, the tears of heaven fell upon its mossy glass, followed by the derisive laughs of the clouds and by the caustic celerity of the heavenly sword made by crooked enlightenment. And thus it happened. The shadow turned to me with gleeful orbs of yellow tincture. I could’ve mistook them as little chrysalis that shines in the darkness of my own impediment. And with another punch of lightning, our eyes met. Only that mine was locked into its own with an immeasurable force.


Not very long after such strong connection, my soul seemed to endlessly travel toward the orbs’ oval-shaped and obscure doors. Incredulously enough I resented such impinging force. Only to find flowers— daffodils most likely — coating my odious astral manifestation. Deeper I go as these wishes penetrated my obstinate will, making me surrender in its greater power shortly after.


The waves of vivid rainbows stopped and I was then brought into a wonderful place filled with brown, black, and white soft trees and leaves. Incongruous  enough, I may say, it is. Though I seem to find all types of peace in such place. My hands endlessly perusing the waving grass— or was it grass indeed when its color is of autumn— savoring its cotton-like complexity, hugging it in between my awe and delight. This ground, this fluffy ground, surpassed all of those priced gold and golden blankets of the majesties. For if a water-bed must be applied to with some force for it to somehow move, this one is moving just fine and naturally on its own.


Most of the time,  I venture far from this fluffy mountain toward a road-like place filled with the same type of grass. But here, none must fall off or else, death is the only glory you’ll meet. And sometimes, I also venture up to its ball-like place filled with white, string-like trees. There are also mountains in this setting where not even I must climb into. Delicate it is. Almost like the wings of a bat I presume. And down to this ball-like place I saw a cave-like structure though not even I can enter through it for I value my safety over the flood it brings when provoked. I’ve tried it once and I only luckily survived its lethal surge. Further down this cave is another large opening which seldom opens or closes. Filled with stalactites and stalagmites which— most of them are already cut down by time I imagine—only four of it remains pointedly untouched. Here, in this place I’ve mentioned, lives an unknown voice which echoes every time it opens up or closes down as it vibrates. But never did I see the source of such sounds nor caught a glimpse of its shadow or anything. I suppose it is an introvert or a misanthrope who uses such technologies to communicate with me in codes.


The last place I’ve ventured is this grassy ground filled with white trees and grass combined. Fluffy too it is like the shampooed hair of a fox. And sometimes, I stumble upon places where these soft and pinkish rocks can be found rooted to the ground. They are squishy above all and I always hug them if I feel like it. Then down to its really, really tall and hairy trees I climbed or descended rather, down to its hairy roots filled with five spikey ends which shows in some occasions. I prefer to stay here as I lay comfort into its warmth and perfect softness. Almost as if the air coming from those caves purifies me the moment it comes near this place.


My eyes suddenly jolted awake and true, staring too closely at these yellow orbs of my companion Mephisto. I jerked my head back in a graceful manner as I drew him close to my chest, gripping onto his fluffy, brownish, blackish, and whitish fur with great gentleness and care. And I know that the shadow who visited me is none other than my caring best friend of a cat who chooses the company of the light-hearted ones. And I know that at the very end of my reign in this insufferable world, I will not want to be released from such innocence and kindness.


Author’s Note: Credits to the owner of the picture used.



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