fantastic Revelation ( uneditade )

     The rain starts raining over the forest... and the dwelling of fantasy starts spreading thoughts allover the world giving the place a concentration of its' own. It looks as if the rain brings a verse to the tearful face of the one who decides to wonder and it also loooks like the opening of a different era, a road to innitiation of primordial stages taking one's mind to another more advanced level.
  As the beings emerge from behind the branches, magical wolves start chanting a song in the old forgotten language and call the  living to a secret gathering. In the middle of the woods there are figures painted on mist, winged ghosts made of antimaterial peaces and the * thinking thinkers*. They have a humanlike look only that they can use their brain upto full capacity. While they're talking they can think about the next thing they will say two days from now. Their friends, the weatherers control the rain judging by their feelings. Sky wars were created because of their different factions. Some were sad and called upon a short heavy torrent to wash their tears away while the others in a more stronger emotion summoned a fast emerging sun that would dry the rain away and clear up every pattern.
  The strongest by far are the Starriers. Warriors of the stars, they  are so marvelous for they are half human and half pegasus with the most amazing wings. Embroidery made of stardust make them establish the order of the night and fly over a darkened sky bringing dreams to ordinary people and controling their wishes not to mention the greatest desires through shooting stories cast into the simplest human mind....
  The starriers are preparing to close down the weatherers' rain and set out to the big cities where souls have to drown in an intense poetry.  The forest is so deep and the harmonious wings cover everything with a soft light of dust spreading a nice jasmine fragrance over the beings that dive into the world of subliminal sleep. If something goes wrong the starriers will bring disorder to the constelations so they are obliged to live in an objective peaceful state. A rebel starrier however falls from the sky and a concentrated human under the influence of lucide dreaming makes a wish at the window. He wants to find eternal love. The  fallen starrier recepting that superficial wish makes a last attempt to live eternaly and transfers his wings over to the human who awakes in a wild rage in the forest where the weatherers set up a thoughtful burst of rain for the fallen one. Human Starrier turns into a set of thoughts and his partially winged pegasus body brings up his desolation. Will he now fly with the others? No. He has no wish of doing so . He tears up his wings and because of his artistic feelings he starts decorating the trees with star fragments until he makes small drawings of magical signs. Then he creates a musical instrument from his tail using wood and his strong hairs as strings thus paying a tribute to the rainmaking weatherers who will now chant a variety of phenomena and then he pais tribute to the ghosty creatures and the thinking thinkers giving his soul to the first ones and his mind to the latter. His body is tribute to the ground along with the former rebel starrier and thus he is thankful for allover the place where his presence is felt there is a strong feeling of eternal and universal love....
  The forest has long since been forgotten by humans.... thus the storyteller  finished his bedtime story while keeping me all the time at high concentration power.
 But can the forest still be found?
Everyone can find it as long as something is given for the sake of joy and love.
  Today as years went by I have learned the meaning of tribute but I have also learned that giving and taking are both the same for nothing is unpayed by laws of nature be it good or ill... The one who gives will always receive and the one who gets will give unknowingly if not by free will. I always got what I gave however I am wondering of the concepts I must give in order to optain a truthful meaning... Another essential thing is that I should also give my patience for an answer and when a soul is in its' right state  the perfect symbol will appear out of nowhere and then with only two or three simple words I might learn the identifying of inner ballance so as to turn myself into a starrier and reset my world for the right recipe of sweet nightly dreams.

Purple Eyes

Holding me captive... holding a gun to my head allowing me to drift away into liberty before dawn, asking more of me than I could master, making me write his book so fast and  obviously.... for him it was too slow.
   The Great Head of the Congregation struck me with his stunning purple eyes into which I could dive and drown a lake of poetry. Touching my cold hand as still as marbel he started painting a new line to the scrypt of links and I accepted... I could not refuse those purple eyes so I cut my hair for them, I painted my face in non-colours for them and I denied my name for that of devotion.....
   Early morning.... Clock Strikes the hour... I awake.... My innocent son is expecting me to cover him with affection.... I do so and then send him to the place where his mind has to be  reforged for the course of morning to afternoon... He leaves  asking why my eyes so disturbed and sad mutter a song of the Ocean and why does the raindrop not make a miracle of bringing sparks of seven colours to form a perfect spectral wave... I smile and give him yet another kiss... what an  unexplicable feeling... I let him believe it's just the weather ... My son is dislexic and I don't think he can get the notion of purple but maybe I'm too superficial... Had my eyes been purple I would have made him the growing image of the same colour's metaphore for me and for others....
   The street is beautiful just as special as those eyes that stunned me stealing everything out of my mind... I charge my telephone by sunlight and I feel it's growing hot... The man and his gun pick my soul up from the next stop and as I myself climb on top of the flying cart I can see my soul reflected in my review mirror... I cannot work as I'm sleepy and my judgement has left me but the gun is coldly touching my head ... or is it a shard of the review mirror.... All makes sense now... I pull out my phone and take a picture of those behind me... No reflection... The ghosts fall into unmaterialism and non-existing theories as I go to school with a bagfull of food and sweets for my son's lunch... I cannot believe I have forgotten those in the morning... Yet he is smart enough and lightyears ahead of me so he playfully pushes me aside :
  * Hello there , dear mama! No need to have worried I went to the Fast Food with my mates and  it was no need for me to read for I matched my imagination with the pictures on display and by only one touch I could figure out the money so no need for reading... You don't have to say ( I've brought you....) I knew you would come but I was too hungry to wait for you so I managed on my own... You may leave the stuff here I'll eat later with the others and... by the way ... I made a change... I asked my mind to paint my eyes in purple! Thought it's nicer! Everyone says I'm the school's most special kid now and... somehow I knew you would like me better like this...!*
  He runs away with his friends and I stare at him in deep admiration and bewilderment... All I can now think of is *purple eyes...* nothing but those misterious and powerful * purple eyes..... *