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When I close my eyes and fall into my mind I start out with a white room. The walls in the white room give off a sort of white light. It has two white sofas in it. The sofas are capable of holding the versions of "me" and "guests". This place isn't always a white room ~ it can be a field on the edge of a small forest like the one where I live. The field has green-brown grass and tall yellow flowers. It's peaceful and warm. It can also be a home with worn out furnishings that have been given loving care for many years. A comforting place full of old, comfortable memories.

If I let myself fall deeper I come to a lake. The lake goes on and on, into eternity. I can't see the edge. The lake simply reaches into the white-gray mists of distance. I stand on the surface, my feet are the only things making ripples on the lake's glassy smooth surface. Sometimes I'm not alone. I am always with me. There can be hundreds of "me" standing silently. There's always two who speak to me. One stands with her back to mine and tells unequivocal, painful, and emotionless truths. The other stands her hands and forearms braced against mine leaning into me. She speaks from the heart and from emotions. She is gentler and softer than I am. She does not fly into rages or hate for small reasons. I stand between these two seeing the world from my perspective... both judging it coldly and letting the fire of emotion twist my judgment. They are my rocks. They allow me to make clear and good choices. Our feet are the only things that make the small ripples on this still lake.

Even deeper down there is another room. This room is dark and warmed by the decayed thoughts and emotions that have filtered down from above. Feelings of doubt, self hatred, and resentment. These feelings decay but they do not die. They wait for a weakness to appear so that they can swallow me up. This room is sometimes full of sealed boxes, sometimes filled with a dark liquid that is at the same time like water and like thick honey. When the feelings find a weakness they rush out of the darkness and drown me in the white room and stain the beautiful lake the color of old blood and darkness. Then everything falls inward around me and the dark feelings take on an almost physical feeling. Misery. I don't visit this room if I can help it. I am already too used to drowning.

Yet, there is another me who lives in that darkness. She has presence but no form. She is always there for me but she is not a comforting being. "When you have lost everything come to me. I will wrap you in the darkness and protect you from the world and your self. You won't have to feel anything anymore. Just like it used to be." I can feel her smiling it isn't a kind smile or an evil one. It's almost bitter, knowing, cold.

Japanese for the day:
Mugen
Infinity

Kao
Face