You and I both had this dream. We both woke up in a room, in a city, in a house that was not our own. We looked at the sky. There was nothing except the feeling that things would fall. It is all going to fall—because the earth has the power to quake, to humanize, to humiliate our foolishness.
You and I, in this particular space, understood the power of the earth-shaking. The shift, the divide—undividing itself.
I got the feeling.
You and I both knew the earth was telling us this, like a secret. Anyone else would have put their ear to the dirt to hear it whisper.
We both saw towers.
I was in fear.
You in knowing that this was the chance to leave.
I had just arrived.
Now, don’t push this down, listen to me.
We awoke with foreign ground under our feet. To my left there was a stream. You were next to a large river. The skyline in front of me was pickled, it was shifting as the sun set. The devil was there. He arose from the stream that flowed by my left side. In the water he was droplets making a whole, he was flowing within his bounds. He bubbled up and was a lizard. He crawled onto the concrete. He was born from the ignition of flames out of air. He was a man.
He was the devil, archetypally speaking.
He was dressed in a suit, his skin was tan, his eyebrows were deep and harsh, his shirt was white. It had a collar. He spoke Turkish and I couldn’t understand the words. But his anger was directed at me. A friend was with you, this was a comfort. An assurance, an insurance.
My place and yours were both amalgamations of where we are, where we’ve been, where do we want to go? This was your jumping off point. This is where I sunk in. It was coming. The destruction was coming. It was my fault. We were on a fault line. The earth has shaking.
If a soul is freed from its bounds and placed in a new world, the space it takes up then oppresses the rest, those who were already there. They become periphery. You were in a house of kindness. I was shedding the essence of my “kind”.
The devil’s eyes were on fire and his finger pointed to the sky. A plane, two planes flew into the skyline from darkness and these two towers fell. They were twins. It was the destruction of one self from the other. These towers collapsed and all I could hold were my own hands.
This is a natural occurrence. Coincidence is not convenient. It should not be seen as a convenience. It is overlooked and I cannot overlook the shifting, encompassing.
How many earthquakes have you felt inside of you recently? They begin when you cry. Do you let those things run their course? Or do you say, this is my chance to escape before night falls again. You shouldn’t do this. You should feel the shifting, the shedding self.
It’s okay. I have come here to tell you that the night will stay away for a while. I stopped the sun from rising. It is in my pocket.