aesmael: (tricicat)
Now is time - with desire - to write of a place which has been with me as long as I can remember.

I call it the Wasteland. In appearance difficult to describe as it is unfixed. Most generally a wide expanse. Though it may (does) end in a void in every direction, it is generally sufficient in size to walk without end.

It is a place of uninterrupted flatness, unless there are mountains in the distance. There may be long grass or cracked parched earth. There may be no sun in the sky and no stars at night, though there may be, rarely. The sky might contain racing clouds, striated, colours. There is normally no wind.

Details.

The Wasteland is the last place. The place beyond which there is nothing. Though others might be reached from here, though it may serve as a sort of junction, it is nonetheless the end of the line. Depending on the manner of arrival and if one can leave - if one knows how - it might contain loneliness or solitude.

It is sufficient in size to walk without end because there is no destination but realisation. The edge is fickle to reach. My first perception of the Wasteland was of a place that is eternal desolation, hence the name, but it has grown more comforting over time.

Right now I sit here writing these words in grass and yellow flowers, wind blowing my hair. It was an hour or two ago when the previous paragraph was written a place of solitude. Now, a refuge. My only company the cat by my side. Except the cat is me too. The cat is new. Ish. Maybe. Complicated.

It might be refuge and it might be torment but that depends on state of mind and intent. Right now there is a storm outside and this is affecting what gets written.

Jayde lives in a version of the Wasteland [=>]. At first I thought it somewhere else. When my writing falters I ask her to show me the way forward, what is blocking me. [=>] What is there is there and her configuration is particular.

It would be a place to consort with my ravens, my crows although I am tired now and should perhaps stop writing.

Date: 2008-01-18 19:32 (UTC)From: [identity profile] mantic-angel.livejournal.com
*swishes and hugs you quietly* Well written. It reminds me somewhat of my own Wasteland, but mostly it is it's own place. I seem to be odd, but the Throne of Mind is my last stop, and my own wasteland is far removed from any path that would take one there.

Date: 2008-01-18 21:06 (UTC)From: [identity profile] lost-angelwings.livejournal.com
It is a place of uninterrupted flatness

I'm tempted to ask if it's Sasketchewan XDD

*hugs*
It is a good place to be tho? :D Yay cats! :)

I'm glad you have a place tho? :D

Date: 2008-01-19 15:40 (UTC)From: [identity profile] aesmael.livejournal.com
*tilts* Throne of mind?

Thank you. It felt a jumble to write. *shrugs*

Date: 2008-01-19 19:59 (UTC)From: [identity profile] mantic-angel.livejournal.com
I tried a few times to write about it after reading this, then gave up. Loosely, though, the "Throne of Mind" is the ... place / mode of thinking which represents raw logical sequencing, usually of a horribly binary sort. Numbers and logic are my last resort, my last escape.

The wasteland, the empty place, is lorded over by Yinrei, the one nightmare / demon of my mind that I'm still truly fearful of.

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aesmael

May 2022

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