Dark Side of the Moon in Darxination

Dark Side of the Moon in Darxination

Breathe the Dark

Ah, this music… Carola thought fantastic, but no, the sounds filled the room with sublimated matter. A plasmatic dark medium, dark euphoria.

Such dark euphoria in an ocean of music connected skies and earth. Carola walked in it, dived, swam, her spirit bathed and dreamed. Her charmed psyche received the power to travel dark spaces, so much the ground under her feet, as empty indefinite campuses.

She found herself at the hub of a metaphysical vortex, in a pivotal motion, a connector—the human connector turned powerful god. Meekness faded away.

Why on earth had she imposed on herself not listening to that music when it made her powerful? Why suppress her insightful dark side when it took her on ether’s fantastic ride?

She feared handling that power? Or rather, found painting more at hand. Perhaps so, as simple as that. Colors, as illusory as they were, eased the eye with their deceptive, but barefaced mundanity.

Breathe music

Ah, this music…

Carola breathed empty spaces. Her senses sent light particles on a cosmic ride. Tellurian meadows, meadows of cosmic silence, and endless meadows of her dark self.

Dark became dazzling light, a supernova expanding.

This is your piece,” Paul said with firm conviction.

“Oh, Paul, I love you for that. Yes, aren’t you breathing the universe?”

“I am, dear woman. But I want to breathe the universe with you.”

Was Paul half-joking and half-speaking in affable earnest?

In a light embrace, they span in the room’s middle, a twinned human flesh pivot, lazy, languorous. Carola was weeping. Life was happening so close.

Why was that closeness beyond her touch? Beyond words, and beyond screams. That music’s beauty overpowered her psyche, its supreme splendor weighed on her consciousness, heavy with bliss.

Deep down, Carola understood she would paint nothing, ever, as true.

Paul saw her weeping, her confusing anguish, but did not ask, let her have her cry. Carola penetrated his muteness, though—music was above human means of expression.


That call brought Carola to earth. The song’s brisk energy and close mundanity rehabilitated her damaged senses.

But the rhythm was too passionate, devastating, beyond-her-bearing powerful. She pushed herself out of Paul’s embrace, mad again.

Dark side of the moon

Hypnos’s wings drizzled felt particles, embracing Carola and Paul in their tenebrous net. A blinding darkness where the music’s electric sounds were the sole source of light.

Carola was bathing in a dark lake on the moon. A saxophone was playing to her cold ears from earth, a sweet male voice.

“Us, us, us, us, us…” It sounded a lullaby chanted to her occult egos.

“Them, them, them, them, them…”

They hid on the dark side of the moon, her anti-egos. How despicably maddening.

But then, a dark entity killed the muses and hushed the dance of Carola’s lunar sisters.

“Why did you stop the music?”

“Enough. This isn’t doing you any good.”

Paul hugged her, and Carola complied, defeated. He kissed her. She complied. Tiny red lights were flickering on the music console. At the back of her mind, music was sighing away.

She sent a ripple of love to the silenced music center on the opposite wall. Her loving wave multiplied and rolled worldwide to reach the planetary army of electronic equipment.

Then, strange, those same ripples came back, charged with love, toward Paul. She felt like bathing there, inside the circle of his powerful arms.

Carola offered her tongue—the ultimate carnal materiality.

. . .

From Chapter 10. Scream

Photo: Fracture land — Envato Elements

About the author

Solar Writer walking on the dark side to bring mind's secrets to light, in romances with a psychological edge. Next Woman blogger showing you how to use the power of SELF to stay young, confident and magnetic.