#Honest

My Dear,

I love this room we’re making here. This lettr room is where thoughts can lay to rest. (see: Harry Potter – Pensive).
& As for the words spoken on phone, i wished that today’s was recorded.
Because it was ‘important talk’.

I felt it was prologue for the next chapter. And so,
what brings us here today, back together, and what links me to you when we are apart, is mysterious. A bigger picture that we both relish in thinking about. We talk and write about it, and utilize art and music to create it.

And what is artistic creation if not an affect of utter lack of descriptive words for formless ideas. Only, there is a problem here somewhere. What we have at hand here is that our deepest, darkest and brightest INTER-monologues and dialogues; and our separate, enchanting INNER-monologues, suffer time dilation and the unforgettable curse of forgetfulness. & in my case inspirations and experiences, thoughts and words fade completely and now momentarily so. The lost inspirations are but dreams forgotten. The conscious mind is barred from the house of subconscious by decree, because our records are no longer in Akasha.

#Book 

“Adm, I will capture these energies, masquerading as thoughts! But I need you. Show me the way to a secret place. We’re going to create.
– Atlantean me

So what I wants is :
for all our thoughts and feelings to synergies, and imprint on the fabrics of space. Codes we will leave for future reference. Anchors to memories and experiences we can tap into when need arrise. Because we are cursed with amnesia, and i know it can be fixed.
From then on, it will be interesting to look at the form we will see emerging after our book is updated and we align the times.
This want imposes on me. It ‘s posing, patiently, for both you and I to do it. To go ahead and start watching the real show.
When we experienced the love room, 9/2013-7/2014, I was shy, embarrassed- to speak my truth. What I felt Atlantis meant to me, and why did space feel like home when no home ever did was the only topics that were hard on me to express to another being. But in my defense, back then I called these thoughts crazy. And then I would dare the universe to prove me wrong by way of you uncovering what I kept covered, in fear of being ridiculed by destiny. And as we both danced around the stories of an ocean of sunken ground, we were afraid to possess the crazy we both felt should be real. We never talked comfortably about it. And it shall not be like this- this time around.
You saw how deliberately
I today start anew with you
with my truth as my only defense. And as you know, I never doubt that the inner you would misinterpret the inner me. …
We write down what is difficult to say, and send a letter to eachother.

We go through records of inner broken emotions and pain to unfurl the secret and the hidden. We should save it. Literally pressing the save button. And that’s the mission statement.
Because all we ever write down or think about create music or art for is a gift of labour
of a sum of experience to our higher plans, and our higher selves. To our predecessor selves and our future selves. I never doubted you. But I sometimes doubt the cosmos.

oh moon you’re big and bright won’t you stay with me tonight.

L

/the sum of me.…