::Azucena::

In the beginning…

There was no “in”.

There was no “the”.

There was no “beginning…”

Without form, yet pure and tranquil.  Forever nameless.  Nonetheless, I must speak of this beginning without end, of this paradoxical is-ness embedded in the matrices of ancient consciousness.

God, what was happening to me?  I thought Marie-Rose said this would be harmless. If by harmless she meant being thrown into a maelstrom of mysticism to the point of not knowing your ass from a hole in the fabric of space-time, then I supposed she was right. 

Oh, he better be worth it.