Recycled Thoughts

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One Dancing Entity


He took her by the waist and they began to sway together, moving back and forth. There was no music; there was no need. The silence was their music. Raising his hand, she twirled around beneath it. Spinning around, that old happiness she hadn’t felt in a long time was returning like a flower blossoming in a field long untouched by rain. Back in his arms, they stepped in rhythm with one another. They were one construction, one dancing entity. She remembered it all. The duet she had always wanted to dance; the feeling she had always wanted to know. She knew it now. This blissful union in dance, this voiceless expression. Her true voice.

Art: Princess Royale Irakon


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What is consciousness? I really don’t know, but I’ve come to enjoy this feeling. Bodiless, the static has gone and I’m bathed in light all around. Waiting in this formless realm, I start to think about who I am, and what I am going to become. I always used to think of myself as my body. I saw it every day, touched it, smelt it and enjoyed the sensations it gave me.

I never considered that one day someone would tell me, “Sorry, but who you thought was yourself was actually just a computer generated image.” My real body is probably dead somewhere. But for some reason that defies everything I’ve ever known, I’m still here. Of course, I’m not complaining about that, it just doesn’t make any sense. When a person’s body dies, well, their mind is supposed to vanish too, right? But mine hasn’t. I’m here in this void sensory deprivation tank, waiting.

Art: Wallpaper of Shoose Doujinshi


Beating, Pounding, Resounding


She closed her eyes. In her mind’s eye she imagined herself growing roots down into mother earth. She pictured tapping into this eternally giving source. She pushed down with her mind. She was a root that wasn’t searching for water, but for something else. She pushed past colossal things. Huge beings comprised of rock. Creatures that were tiny and large. Water also trickled over her and mingled with her. It wasn’t separate at all. The water; it wasn’t apart from the earth, it was one. She pushed past fiery ponds of fundamental earth, raging heat searing her body. She didn’t care; she wanted to embalm herself in it. It wasn’t separate from her at all. Then she felt it. A beating, pounding, resounding heartbeat. It was the heartbeat that pounded in all living things. It resounded in her, the soil, the magma, the insects, the beasts and the world. It would never leave her.

Art by Miyama Fugin

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The Black Silk Road


This is not a dream. Everything is vivid and clear. The scent of blooms as they sacrifice their innermost secrets to the air, the fading pale light that makes the leaves become resting butterflies on tree branches. Even the cool wind that escapes past me, as if wishing it could flee. The sky darkens and the first stars are born on the black silk road above. Soon more and more stars appear, like jewels poking out their heads. They flicker a code amongst themselves, a code that I cannot yet understand. Yes, this is not a dream.

Art: Aonuma Shun Wallpaper

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The Rootless Seed


Sunlight caresses the heads of rice fields, colors reminiscent of bleached boys’ hair, cropped and erect, a blaze of flame sweeping over.

I watch the seeds of this land, the ones who’ve sunk their roots in domestic soil, spreading out a network of generations. His eyes have dropped roots, her hands and life have dug into the earth.

And I am a rootless seed. Blown to this place by the blast of a seemingly meaningless wind. My roots won’t sink down here, as they did not there. Perhaps they will grow upon the air’s skin, clinging as it shifts from place to place.

Or perhaps, we’re all rootless seeds, souls that pretend to root ourselves in the earth’s loving breast, forming a home, a hearth. But eventually, this soil cannot hold us, cannot keep us, and we must move on like an insistent guest. A hermit crab in the dimensions.

Art by Amemura