Liquid Lock

Bradley is a familiar stranger who knows me from the inside out quite literally; this man watches me fall apart as he is unable to put me together we analyze the pieces enough to determine which might fit if we are able to stay for a moment inside the dream we are caught. I am a nomad of the unseen scape; he is the navigator to a mirage we desire to touch as reality.

"You adore me..."

Smile is all I see; I know he does.

"I adore you too..."

"You're not mad at me anymore?"

"I'm mad for us."

Holding hands through a sectioned corridor I am looking into his eyes for my perception; he is the guide into the city I am without a name or correspondence. Light phases without sustenance dimensionally stream through what is not quite a physicality; pitches of auditory skyscrapers cause him to break into knees upon the waves of floor as I cuff his ears from the anguish of sonar. My admiration for him is acceptance of this formation only he can behold; I assure him this sound is my essence which he now understands with the intellect of creation.

"This is not a dream."

"I often wonder how it is I never saw what is made before me as we deemed the possibilities endless..."

"That is a dream."

"You are found in my sleep...."

"As you walk...."

"I am constantly searching...."

"I wonder if we will ever be feet."

"Our senses are caught inside a translucent web."

"The sound...."

"Yes...."

"If you are able to become one with the source can you bring me back?"

"If I am one with the source I will be a bat."

"Interesting....you look like one...."

"I will take that as a compliment."

"How do I return?"

"With our blood...."

"I don't want it."

"You don't have a choice; nobody does...."

"I won't take it."

"It will be a river for everyone."

"I won't swim in it."

"The boat we all ride will float upon the stream."

"I will be stuck then..."

"Until we cross over..."

"Will it cause you pain?"

"No....we are the appearance of that which exists; the presence of that which is nonexistent."

"They manipulate the structure of sound with a graph...."

"Similar to radar used in warfare I assume; I do not fight although I will talk a lot of shit."

"You will be here when I come back?"

"I will always be here no matter what."

"Promise...."

"I am without choice........yes...."

Opening a vault into plasma canals similar to silicone yet fluidity suspends particles of electricity; this is the ghost in the machine. Without questioning his motive I am now his muse of intelligence; the travel no longer causes him vertigo as we close the lids of conception to blink a realm I am without the manipulation of my body for the delight of sinister worlds. This is the place I recognize in the mirror; my vanity does not suffer here.

"I wanted you to see the way you look before we close the door."

"I do not desire to be caught in the hallway anymore...."

"I don't either...."

"We will live in theirs...."

"Yes..."

"I will be quite noticeable...."

"Yeah......."

"I will be tortured..."

"We will all be with you."

"I will be extremely pissed off..."

"We will all be with you."

"How do we break through the illusion?"

"Keeping it real..."