Ive been writing a bit again, and dealing a bit with Psychics. Granted, I perfer, at least for my creations, the term "Mind Walkers". These are people who can actually get into your head and change things.
Depending on who they are, and whos mind they are in, they see things differently. Ive noticed that one tends to see objects, more than people. Some peoples minds are cluttered, some are clean.
Thinking about this from a realistic veiwpoint, I think a persons mind could look different from day to day. Same with the self image projection that one Mind Walker perfers to work with.
So - whats in my mind?
A large, greek/italian styled mansion, of course. Many rooms, filled with delicate articles from various locations all around the world. Behind the manse, there is a large grassy field, with a huge mountain vista. There is a stream that runs through this, fresh, living water, and to the left, there is a graveyard. Currently, there are about 5 open plots there, waiting to be filled. (Grandpa Trehearne, Grandma and Grandpa Morrison, Grandma Romeo, and one for a woman Ive never met, but my heart is breaking for.)
There are my muses, of course... They inhabit the rooms, each in their own little realms. There is a courtyard down below, with fountains and brick paths.
And there is my own little room, where Jack Sparrow like, you will find the many mental versions of myself.
The room is small, much like a bachelors apartment. There is a bedroll on the floor, rolled up during the day. There is a bible, and a laptop, an Ipod, and some candles.
The kitchen is mostly bare. Some rice, some chicken, some salad.
You dont need much to make these things.
The main image of myself is not a flattering one. She wears turquoise jeans that do not fit her well, and a white blouse. She is at least 80 pounds overweight. She has bad skin, and a horrible perm.
SHe cries, alot.
There is another. She has black bobbed hair and is pale. SHe is smaller than I am in build, and well muscled. Lean and hungry in look. SHe favors black leather trimmed in fur - not so much dramatic as functional for living mostly out of doors in the wilds. Sometimes, she has fangs, and sometimes she doesnt. Shes restless in the room, pacing like a caged animal.
Another has long grey hair and a soft expression. Usually in long dark skirts and a brightly coloured top, shes slim and graceful and quiet. She prays a great deal. She studies her scriptures and sings. She is most at home in this small space. With her is an ancient scent of incense and the feeling that - shes at peace.
Lastly, there is one that - morphs. She is - the working model? She flits between business suits and a professional look to jeans and sweatshirts with her hair a bit frizzy. She envies the two others and hates the crying girl in the corner. She is not happy wit the room, but doesnt know how to make it fit everything she has/needs now.
In one hand, she carries a living flame, in the other, a small shard of ice.
All versions, I realized this morning, wear rings.
The far left is the plain gold band. Sometimes its tarnished, sometimes its even missing, but the imprint of it is always there.
Next is a pearl ring. Two pearls, one white, one black. Sometimes, they change place, occasionally, they are both black, or both white. Sometimes, it looks like its about to just fall apart entirely.
Than is a large, platinum family ring. The stone colors change in it from day to day, pretty much. Sometimes there are two rows of stones, and sometimes, there is only one. Its very fluid.
There are two rings on the last finger. One is gold with rubies and amethysts. This ring is very often missing, and even more often, appears broken. There is the white gold and diamond ring under it. Its new, and shiny, and always there. Only the crying girl doesnt wear it.
There are seagulls, you can hear them especially in the morning. All rooms have an ocean view.
Almost every room has an elephant of some nature in it. Almost every room has some kind of theme.
There are details... a wall that has old army medals on it. An old styled court room with a high dias. It looks a great deal like a church. There is a black sombrero with silver and white trim hanging over a fern in one corner of the manse somewhere. No one likes it, but no one ever takes it down, either.
The grave yard is cold and dark, and usually rainy. The field out back is filled with firebrush and wild raspberries. There's a Saskatoon tree growing in one corner, and weeping willows by the stream.
Theres a forest at the edge of the field where dark things move. Its clear of undergrowth and has wild animals in it, but often grows silent with a menace not heard. The ground is rich brown and dark green moss - almost inviting you to sleep there.
This is my mind. these are how I see my memories.
This is how I see my world.
___________________________
Edit -
Psychologically speaking, Yes - this is a very healthy mindrealm. The Id and Super-ego both in balance, both clearly represented. A very accurate picture of my current state, and all the negative self aspects tossed back on a caricature that I recognize not so much as what I am, but what I have been.
The world surrounding myself is more or less a pleasant one with wide open bright spaces and nods to both the carnal, and the spiritual.
The only thing that I see was missing was the male counterpart. I believe that there *is* one of those in that little room. He keeps his hair cut short (but not shaved) and looks - pretty - which makes sense. As a female, my own visual appearance is stern and unforgiving, but I am aware that I would indeed make a *very* pretty boy. *smirks*.
When he is present, I believe he sits in the corner opposite the crying girl. I think he is probably crueler to her than any of the others. Which yes, I am aware speaks to how I view men in general.
He is built quite alot like the "id", which is also probably quite healthy and favors the leather/denim combos. Its in him that I think dwells my anger and rage. That is probably most symptomatic of my mental - unhealthfulness?
The female "id" is not angry, she is just - restless.
I suppose, if I was to to place a male "super-ego" counterpart, it would actually be my muse, Max. Again, with the anger and the rage, although very closely controlled. A huge, intimidating male who follows the Law to the letter. I suppose that a great deal of my perfectionism is drawn from him.
I dont relate well to that image though. I am "closer" to the id, when going down the Freudian road of self-investigation.
Over all - I would say that mentally I really am shockingly healthy and balanced. I am *very* self aware and have little trouble expressing myself. I dont like change, and resist tying myself down. Neither id nor super-ego are the kind of people to collect or even care about "things". Their worlds are very similar, although their approaches to them are miles apart.
No comments:
Post a Comment