Amsterdam: Journey into a NetherWorld

Leaving the known world and entering the unknown part of the journey.

I walked a (very old wise man), in the streets of Amsterdam. His hunched back, smart winter attire, walking him back home, his life in my hands. He was composed and dying. He held my hand and I thought his trust in me is a cosmic test, that I tried to play along with, but couldn’t. I didn’t want to. I failed. I felt like a child. He was my mentor from the universe. I disappointed him. I didn’t care. I was too depressed, in shock.

On the couch, his traumatic moment of madness begins to boil out. Kneeling down in front of him, his absent-minded soulmate sees the horror of his pureness killed, he is utterly betrayed. She watches as his life unfolds right in front of her eyes, but she’s hovering silently outside her insides.

Until suddenly the hologram eyes appear. He piercingly stares, immediately, and deeply into her soul. But it’s not enough to bring her out. He then surrenders and displays vengeful regret, utter rejection; and then the look of total, painful disbelief of her unexpected failure to connect.

Lying on the bed, his hands reverently, feverently search for his necklace. He prays to the cosmos between sobs of shock. But he clearly sees her trying to transform into his soulmate.

She absentmindedly notices him grabbing the necklace and accepts the challenge without further thought. Awkwardly she dismounts him and goes to fetch her earings. She sits back on top of him and clumsily tries to force the earings on as he interjects: “No, don’t! Anything but the earrings..” his voice chokes into painful terrors, as if he’s saying enough is enough. But it was she who have had enough. Fine! And she stops trying to put the silly earrings on and toss them like a spoilt child to the wall.

I left him in his nightmarish sleep, and did an unusual thing. I walked in the new city alone. And smoked.