Imagine your composition, the substance you’re actually made of pouring out of you, gushing, like a turbulent waterfall. Let it all seep out, from every pour. Wrench out each drop of you, twist and contort your body. Let your liquid essence from the depths of your soul surge upwards and be free. Leave the body, the capsule behind. let your spirit be free, allow it to roam, just release it from your shackled body. Leave behind the void you’ve emerged from, you’ve left a vacuum behind. Let that spiral into darkness.
Step away from the mirror. Instead close your eyes and imagine this. Call it your alter ego if you want. Those vivid colours and vibrations that create you, that emanate from you, pile up to form a humanoid form. One that is not restricted and bound by your conscience brain. Listen to the sounds and tunes you’re composed of, that orbit around you in kaleidoscopic patterns, musical trails that give your vague figure contours and edges and curves. Look at the clouds of memories afloat in the midst of your being. Allow your emotions to ebb and flow, to wreck havoc and to be a soothing gentle breeze that ruffle your clouds and leave them feeling new.
Look at this, this element you are. A vibrant, alive jamboree of you. A hallucinatory form, where light doesn’t travel in a straight path. Colours curve off of your edges and disappear. They define parts of you, some blaze like fire, while others glow dimly, but they are firmly wrapped around you. Vibrations, radiations of different frequency that you emit travel in the air around you, they reflect and refract and absorb. You are a celestial orb of magic. Around you the atmosphere is charged up. You’re very essence lights up the surrounding. Azure, violet, crimson, whatever you represent. Your aura. Poignant memories from your past swiftly skim your surface and vanish, only to be replaced by other dreams that fly around you and dissolve into fine dust to add to your matter. You are a whole orchestra and your hearts pulsates to the beat of your rhythm.
You are a whole world, your geography, your topography. The valleys in you where the rivers flow musically, the ocean where the currents drown and dive, the mountain tops, snow covered, angels homes, and the darker caverns that are forgotten in the day. You are a map, a whole world where not much is known.
You are turmoil, with the earthquake that shakes you up once a week, the occasional draught that leaves you completely parched, or the tornados and maelstroms, the lighting and tsunamis. Calamities. Catastrophes, all frequently tainting, tarnishing your time line.
Step away from the mirror. Do not let your mind linger around your outer shell. Do not stay up nights trying to polish it, embellish it. There’s no need for any ornamentation. Any paint. The shell is just an exterior case, if its functioning its alright. What is supposed to be enthralling is whats inside.
The glow instead will come from the depths of your soul when you place it back in your body. Every night, pull it wholly out and then return it. Work on this radiance. Explore this warmth. Nurture your ancient forests and clear out all your caves. Plant some new sapling and feed them until they flourish. Time works in a distorted fashion here. You won’t grow unless you travel, dwell deeper. Tame the monsters that savages this landscape you are. Purify your content, pass it under waves of bright with light, blind all the demons. Spend your time here, you will metamorph into something beautiful.