Today's 'Muse'

There is a sense of someone around me. Someone familiar. Once known to me. Here to be a spirit companion. No threat to my crumbling demeanour. My awareness hooked into the consciousness. Here amid the material hustle and bustle of the 8 hour day. A typical day. An uneventful day. Remote viewing heralded nothing. I took to first tentative steps of a return into the reflected universe. Fortunately no disruptor came. Though I am curious as to its intention and its identity I was glad for the 30 minutes of escape. A journey out of this into somewhere unknown. But sadly I can't remember.

I sense movement to my left. Light within the daylight. Movement there in the corner of my eye. Expectations high as I await perhaps a facsimile. An image. A smell. A sense of touch with a form which is not here but there on that shared vibration. But then I muse, perhaps technology is required to produce 'facsimile'. When it is a pure thought connection, it is not the same. This does not feel the same as when a disruptor or a handler comes close.

This is how it once was. How it used to be in those days of 'demonstration' and 'physical mediumship'. A different world to here. Sadly I cannot see it ever returning. Perhaps it may. I hope that road does resume, I miss now the adrenalin surge which is there moments before I pitch my art before the expectant eyes. When the experiment puts you on the spot. Unlike the actor, no script can be rehearsed. Yes, I do miss those days. Perhaps the reluctant medium is no longer the reluctant one. Perhaps the time has come to pursue that road again?

I hear my name called now from a distant places deep within my mind. There in my consciousness. Sadly, I've already spent too much 'time' away from my task. I must return back to this dreary material role amid the Matrix Game. There where I know it isn't real but it must be treated as real; not all the folk around me are as fortunate as I to know this is a hologram ... they believe it is so very real. Therefore I must too. To keep up appearances and seem at least 'interested'.

Digits before me and around me. On screen, on paper. My role. My trade. My skill. My sadness. For this is not what is to become of me. Two decades have passed since I set my sights on the stars. A timid youth wishing for the ambitions deep within to be realised. Only one has come to pass; she is by his side and the love they share is so wondrous; so powerful; eternal. Sadly nothing else has come to pass like he wished.

Perhaps time has yet to show; has yet to unwind to that place on the Matrix disc. Maybe it will. maybe it won't as maybe a different twist or turn was taken in the maze.

Somehow it will be revealed if this is where they are meant to be; where they are not meant to be. Perhaps that which went wrong will be repaired and this venture amended. Maybe there the reluctant will be before the audience again. Perhaps the familiar spirit will be there aiding him.