Sanctuary sanctorum...

They’ve been part of the human legend for a long time now, and if they’ve been part of so many different people’s legends then it’s fairly likely some elements of those legends are truly part of the human condition.  I’m talking about those with the strange abilities... the psychics, the prescient, the empowered and the aware.  All the things of the mind that defy a full explanation in trial by causal logic, and yet equally defy a full acquital and dismissal by the same court.  The mysteries as they’re called.  My thought today has to do with the life experience of those who are the source of those legends, they who superlatively sane or shattered soul crazy must live with such  perceptions as part of their life.   A couple of posts back I was speaking of my favorite character in the Matrix movies, The Oracle.  I suppose I’m still wandering a bit in that thought, trying to fit my version of reality into some perspective to allow me, limited to five senses and an imagination, to actually have some idea of what it would be like to live with six senses, or seven, or perhaps so many they just blend beyond counting. 

What would it be like to try and grow up with such things part of your world? To be all of two and a half the first time you perceived your parents having sex, not with your eyes or your ears, but with some sense that echoed both momma and daddies’ physical responses through your body?  It didn’t really hurt, but, then maybe it did?  There ya’ go Siggy, why don’t you and L. Ron  work out the dynamic on that one.  Come on Jung, step up to the plate, don’t let them sex maniac perverts beat your time, why don’t you tell us how far back you’re supposed to pull after the time when you were almost four and riding in the grocery cart hoping for lots of tasty little fruity things in the big colorful box when you looked across at the momma type looking the other way and her fear of what the daddy type does to her at night hits so hard you piss your pants for the first time in two months? Try and imagine being a little child the first time you’d perceive such things.  Try and imagine how hard it would be to deal with such things when you’d have such a small amount of understanding compared to such a huge amount of raw data.  It’s totally intimidating, really.

But at least you got an early start on understanding, that might be easier in some regards than say getting to be twelve like any other twelve year old kid and then finding out that hey, not only is there this brand new thing called the hornies, but every time they show up the whole fucking sky might as well be paisley pop tarts because dammit, you saw it there and then just three days later there it was on the ground for real and it’s happening more and more and it’s always three days, never two, never four, always three... soon enough you’d be going no, I don’t want to know that, or that either, and would you stupid fuckers please be careful before... nope, to late.  Likely enough soon enough you’re hiding in anything and everything you can find that has half a chance of shutting down the damn ticker tape in your head because when the ticker tape has been running for to long then really strange shit starts happening and the other folks are starting to notice it only happens like that when you’re around?   How long before you’re literally blowing in the wind rather than be in any one place long enough to cause someone harm?

No, I don’t think being one of those whose life crosses up with the mysteries would be all that enjoyable, not after ten, twenty, forty years blowing in the wind before you feel yourself being called into some odd place and she has such strange eyes and fuck, you can’t feel her at all, not even a smidgeon, hell, while she’s looking at you everything goes silent, and she smiles at you so soft and tender and that smile is suddenly the most terrifying thing of them all because it’s then you hear the winds of limbo in your soul ripping at what’s left of your sanity and you know, you know that of all the people you’ve ever met she’s the one who knows what she’s looking at.  Then she holds out her hand and that’s the most terrible moment of your life while you’re looking at the warm comfort she’s offering and trying to decide if you’re brave enough to follow her in or strong enough to walk away.