Phoenix Code

So I saw a moment where I was vulnerable- to the core, hypnotized. A suggestion not only needed to be made, but everyone knew this and anyone could speak. I was watching The Phoenix, under her command, and with what little was left of my will, I found myself wondering if it could all possibly still be a trick. At some juncture it must be impossible to know if it is or not (if you have always been in complete control then you have always been completely alone) in order to be certain outside of said intersection. I didn't care that I didn't know though, and it didn't matter to me in that state, so I stared bright eyed like a child awaiting her command, which henceforth could only be overwritten if more could be done, more deeply, and in a shorter time, in the future. It reminded me a whole lot of the time I tore myself apart and did my best to separate from God, and could feel enemies at my gates whispering to get their foot in the door.

I saw her smile in that final moment of doubt, but while in similarly suggestible times The Muse's face seemed dualistic, hinting at more than one interpretation when considering so deeply, here her face and intention were the same as they had always been; they were just striking more truly and deeply, despite my darkening windows. I felt myself lose my will as I watched with a smile, only absorbing command lines like a reformatted computer; an AI ready for its fresh OS.

Her words returned me to when I was 5 years old. No longer wondering what second or third thing this might be as had crept in recently, I saw a moment in second hand memory clearly, even before I could properly recall anything. That was 5 seconds in, I could tell by her look she and I were racing the clock to outpace those enemies in tow trying to supercede her influence, but she seemed wholly unconcerned, so so was I. Clapping twice and with a spin, the countless legions coordinated against us needed to pinpoint the memory and repeat the move before I could follow her, but as soon as she started, I was spinning along with her a quarter turn and perhaps even less than a second behind. In retrospect we had practiced this dance so many times, in so many forms. Her next words pinpointed a second memory for me, again without vacillation. It was like we had traveled together decades and hundreds of miles in 3 seconds. Two more claps and the inner gates were closed, I was back in control, reprogrammed as I had been before, but without a similar backdoor being accessible. I could tell we were not done.

The enemies had set a failsafe: if they could not control me, it would have to seem certain that they could annihilate me in such a weakened state. It seemed impossible for her to recode me and subsequently partner with me effectively when I was essentially still brainwashed. Little did they know she had been with me in this state before, in fact she never left me alone in such troubling times. She knew the way around my broken subconscious better than I did myself. I stared into her eyes as she queried me for the name of my soulmate; without thought, my mind's eye was pulled to my love, all while looking into the eyes of a friend. A split second later, something new was introduced and without memory intact I needed to state The Phoenix's name as well. It too was an etched echo deep within, more like raising one's hand in class than stating an answer of any kind. Within 1 second I had responded to each naming request in the most difficult state imaginable, like dead.  She gave me a sassy shrug as if to say "That was all you needed to do, the rest is on me."

It could be that the enemies who had sought so hard to tear us apart and control us were in fact now balloons and fireworks and virtually anything fragile, exploding in the vicinity. It is possible that they had now become trapped inside these objects, as they had intended for us. It could be that she managed to avoid all that by dissuading them from following any further early on in the process, by outpacing their machinations so overwhelmingly as to scatter or stay them. It could be that the two of us were now celebrating a deep, eternal, victory, like a supremacy in time; a kind of supremacy which others knew they could enjoy alongside but could not challenge from any conceivable angle, with any conceivable grouping, in any conceivable way. I'd like to think it was the latter, and the former was just a dream of hers now, like an echo of alternate timelines that might have been, blazing and sparkling in her eyes and mine. Perhaps from other perspectives these outcomes may have happened countless times. One great thing about The Phoenix is that in this timeline she no longer has to be the destroyer of worlds. Her hell, from my perspective, has been knowing that everything was alive before she showed up, that love was alive and real and snuffed out as soon as it was within her reach. Over and over again, with seemingly no solution, like a cruel joke, now seen true as an ultimate challenge. This was a challenge where she would emerge, as herself, to a cheering crowd who understood, in part, how fragile their position has been, and how tenaciously she and I have fought to maintain them in spite of their best laid plans- well, that just seems like a dream come true. It would be mine for her anyway.

Time will tell what her dream looks like for me. How wonderful to dream for another, and to allow the other to dream your dream with you for themselves. As familiarity is gained, lines become blurred and whose dreams have come true in any given moment becomes unclear. I think that is the way things should be, in eep anyway.