A man sat on a mountain and looked at the stars but the heavens were gone and the mountain not there. Does this mean that a man did not sit on a mountain and look toward the stars or does it simply mean that there was no man sitting on the mountain? Perhaps it all comes down to that the answers lies within the stars that wasn't there.

Don't look at me that way. I am not half as crazy as you might think I am probably more so and before my story is told you will find yourself doubting whether I am telling a story or simply laying out the truth. Then as you and I both know the truth are in the eye of him or her who watches so how can there be such thing as truth or even more so how can we know that there is anything at all? Now that kind of questions belong in the field of philosophy and after all this has nothing to do with that. As you look through me my fingers gently touch the keyboard seeking to put it all in a context. Such a context that can be comprehended by your eyes and your brain yet can you truly trust the words you read? I found myself asking the same question once, is this person I am looking at completely out of his mind. That person was just a person of a person and almost not even that, it was an image of the illusion that such thing as a person do exist in time and space. Let us stop there just for a second; here take a cup of coffee.

I close my eyes at times when you look away and see such wonders, such a vast empty space filling the lines in-between our words. It is as I looked into a mirror and from it death looked back at me but the reflection which touched me cannot be spoken of. You did know that I died once? No? I did you see, I went under for twenty minutes gone from time and space somewhere deep inside my own mind. Floating in spaces out of existence in a doorway between black and white, between light and dark, in it I stood holding the doors open. I stared into this thick black darkness while hands of white grabbed my flesh and wanted to pull me back inside the gate toward the light, toward something unseen. In such wonders which no human mind should ever stand, I could feel the presence of my own self-awareness and the weight of my sins. I spoke words, clinging to the vacuum as leeches grabbing for flesh.

"-I give my life to hold this gate open. I call to thee, I call to all you warriors of light to awake and come home to the mother earth. Take the source of my life and use it for this good cause. I am but a single drop of rain falling into an endless sea and for such a task I am ready to die. This is my wish, this is my calling. Oh hear my plea thee mother of earth, I give my life to call upon thy children in this hour of need. The heart of men are failing, the time is running out. I give my life to hold this gate open between light and dark so the call shall be heard on both sides and so they shall heed this call and come to you."

The gate grew heavy the grasp of them hands of light grew stronger still and I knew I would not be able to hold this gate open for long. So I did what my heart told me, I turned around from the dark emptiness and put my gaze upon the brightest light I have ever seen still. It filled my mind; it burnt through my flesh and the sins within me. I burned away the very thing I called myself; I was no more, yet I still stood there holding the gate open. I stared into this burning light, like a silent sun and then I saw that which cannot be seen. A presence was upon me, like a silhouette bathing in light but yet still impossible to see. Its presence touched I like a wave of pure force and I seized to exist in a moment feeling like a thousand years. My head filled up with the most ancient of things, images that I do to this very day have no words for, no way of comprehending nor implying a meaning nor seeing before my eyes. My heart stopped beating, the presence touched my body filling it with light and so we were one. It was like looking into a mirror so strong that every inch of your poor little soul was revealed and in this reflection, in this wide mirror I saw something. I was shown a glimpse which filled my eyes with tears. Yet how hard I try to get back there in my mind I cannot find it within my memory, it is like such a reflection never got recorded however strong and real it forever is in my mind. I was indoctrinated by it, I was fed by its light and within it was the meaning of all. I could feel the universe exploding, suns were born and suns died, the universe grew and flourished. The stars were endless, time and space no longer existed, it all was there in a brief moment looking into an image within a mirror. As from neither human hands that were not human nor hands at all I felt them grab my arms as I still held the gate open. My life was forfeit, I had given my soul, my blood, my inner life-force to hold this gate between light and dark open, in order to call out into space and find them these warriors of the light; my people which I forever had longed for and missed dearly. My people I say without ever having met them or spoken to them or lived with them but they had always existed deep within my heart and were as real as the stars and the air. But then again what is real and what is not? How can we come to trust our limited senses, how can I trust mine? At this very moment in the depth of nothingness I saw everything and I stood in the presence of a reflection that was more than a reflection, more than a being. It was life.

I gave this task all my will and I was ready, willingly giving my life to hold that gate open long enough. I was ready to die. Then when these none existing hands touched my flesh I felt life coming back to me, I felt strength flow through me but I was not me anymore. I was in myself only a reflection of another reflection. I looked into this light and cried with tears not of sorrow but of comfort and rejoice, I spoke words from my lips which I could not hear nor feel but from the reflection I felt an answer. My eyes filled up with tears like diamonds, I wanted to fall to my knees and slowly came to do so still holding the gate open with my arms. I was filled with the light and from it came a glorious song. I watched and I listened and I was torn to pieces.

Then I woke up.

Since that night every second of my day has been filled with a great longing. Within my mind I sense the images I saw which I yet did not see and could not have seen because it all was bathing in light. Like a never-ending glimpse in the corner of the eye, I know it's there still but I cannot recall its meaning nor can I hear it. I can only feel it flowing through me and as I let it take a hold my body starts to shake, my eyes are once again filled with tears and my body wants to fall unto my knees in praise. I had been touched by a meaning beyond my own comprehension and today no longer can I call myself a man because the flesh which is my body is but a hollow shell. I have become a tool of something far much bigger and the unknowing of this bigger picture haunts me day and night. What did I see in this reflection? What burnt my eyes and made me so utter blind still fully open to see?

I will probably forever seek to find the answer and so I reach out beyond words neither on a paper nor at the stroke of a key. The gate is open, whatever that means. The pain that fills me late at night breaks my body and mind, I lounges me far away over the edge of madness and into an invisible abyss. This so I shall feel the pain of the earth I walk upon, so I shall see beyond sight without the words to tell its tale. The universe is so infinitive and it all has a meaning so large and incomprehensible that our petty human minds cannot see and believe. Yet I feel it, I have both been cursed and blessed by my rash and bold action. I am but a reflection of another reflection; I am a mask within a mask within a mask and underneath am the empty space of nothingness. But in this vast nothingness there shine the light that I neither can escape nor control. I have become a tool of greater forces than myself yet I am here and still I am not. At times my mind wanders and all that life is feels like a fading dream, but in order to survive I need to remind myself that although I am struck with this immense feeling of wanting to part with life I am also a man of flesh and bones and cannot escape such a fate. I have no longer the right to do so. I am bound by an oath of feathers and blood. I close my eyes late at night and feel an ancient storm raging the land, my dream haunted of images of old plains and untamed beasts. Things that was, things that are and things that has yet not come to pass and within it all I have no answers, no questions, no right and no wrong. I am but a reflection in a mirror and all that I am is there. I live and yet I do not. Oh how great mysteries are born in moments of pain and sorrow. Somewhere out there I know a brief second waits which I am called upon. This moment shall define my fate in the flesh while the fate of the mind forever will be called toward a horizon not of my choosing or control; a knowing which fills me with both fright and joy.

Does this make me insane I might ask you my friend? Was it all a psychotic episode within a trouble mind or the final sacrifice and a blessing of life? Was I born again or have I truly never been born at all, do any of us truly exist or are we all actors on an invisible stage that we call life? It all eludes me and escape my grasp and so I seek the truth that is out there, beyond the sight of material eyes. What is it I have seen which has been ripped from my senses and my memory, what was that presence I saw? The bare thought fills me with fear, not such a fear of being afraid but with a fear of not being worthy of knowing. Do I really want to know? Like a hand of light upon my forehead I can feel myself falling away from it. I deny it and hide this truth behind masks because how could anyone ever believe my story? Can you? Sometimes I cannot believe it either but it is always present and makes the tears running down my cheeks but when I try to remember what I saw it slips away and fades. So what is my meaning? I act like a scumbag; I keep my distant from people because I feel their hearts beating, their thoughts run through them like waves from the ocean and it hits me so strong. It forms me like a reflection, I feed upon this feeling and see people not in the flesh but beneath. Everything sticks to me like oil and fills me up for a moment, forms me for an hour, a day, a month then dissipates like steam and I stand again empty and clean. What is this gift? Have I always had it or has it been given to me? If so what shall I use it for, what can I do when it both hinders my life but fills it up? Oh great heavens, guide me to whatever corners of this earth I must see and so I shall go.

Do you now understand why I fall away from this world, why I love and yet cannot love forever? Why I stand among you but never feel like belonging. I have utterly become a reflection, a mask hidden from your sight because the greatest fear I find; as you and I stand here in this very moment, is that if I would to rip my flesh from my bones and show you just a brief second of that light I now have spoken of, you would back away in fear. Fear of not understanding or being able to understand. No man should ever haft to bear such a weight at heart, because whatever truth I did see it is the heaviest burden of all to bear. It is loneliness greater than words or mind can find to imagine, it is both a curse and a blessing of sort. Oh how I wish I could find a way of showing it truly to you and sing an unheard song, but I feel unworthy of such a task. I am not here to speak but to bear witness. Yet deep, deep behind this mask I wear, in the face burnt away by light I forever bear the marking of such that my purpose, whatever it might mean is forever my own.