I'd like to say thanks to a fellow time traveler who has the vision to daily check for the next installment on "The Bridge Between the Worlds."
The challenge remains where to begin. Beings as my best stories always seem to just get pulled out of my butt, (just like my readings in general,) I think I will start this one with the ending and work backwards, or forwards, I forget. (Will anyone ever be able to make sense of my backwards pseudo biographical blogs?)
Beings as the ending for most of us is almost always death, I'll start here. I am dying. That shivering orb of sparkling mercury which is the harlequin diamond lattice of my consciousness, is replaying my life all over again backwards. All the dreams, all the memories are but a blink of my already closed eyes. I am so happy. But this time, unlike dying during birth, this metallic bubble of my being shrinks instead of grows. And although this orb of consciousness no longer reaches the infinitude of all space in time, there is another infinitesimally small universe at the other end of the scale, waiting to digest the last remaining dust scrap of my existence. Push rewind. (So far nothing very original.)
From this point of nonexistence I turn to see a branching wing of all the possible alternative universes. This tree roots into fertile ground to carry the weight of all my choices as they merged to become this one and only eventual inevitability. Luck has been a frequent player in this most unlikely of lives I have been blessed to share. Madness yes, worthiness, I would hope so. Trying to describe death from the perspective of someone who is dying is more fun than I know how to write. I need to go back and explore some of those lost opportunities. Suffice it to say that I am more content than I may deserve. Blah Blah Blah. Where's the evil? Where's the drama? Where is the pathos? I must go back and find where everything went so horribly, horribly right. Ready? (But where to turn? So many unlikely insights that have led to this grateful death.)
