my choices are very clear. i do what i love at the risk of what i have, or i forego what i love to keep what i’ve got. and i have tried to tread the middle ground, but now and then, i want to go all out.

i want to be hardcore.

could i have done it before?

a few days back, i had a nightmare. i felt a presence behind me, I had no more knowledge of its nature but that it was a BEING. then i felt its touch on my back, hot enough to jolt me awake.

the touch of a STRANGER. that such a BEING could provoke me so was unsettling.

what was the meaning of its touch? was it the acceptance of my powerlessness, my movement to the whims of a deeper, baser awareness? did it want me to let go? have I been holding on for too long? to what?

or is the BEING a guide, that searing touch a nudge urging me on towards that fork in the road? if i made my choice, would i then be awakened to a new reality just as its palm had zapped me out of my sleep?

is this no-man’s land between dreams and circumstance limbo?

‘what the hell are you muttering?’ says moosaalhu. ‘your drink is here.’

and what a drink it is – ‘blossom’ is hot pink and bubbly, like a mescaline dream. i take a sip and it unearths a memory – brilliant sun, sandy street, throat dry as moosalhu’s brain, mother by the house cold F&N cherry in hand, and that electric first swig. dear LORD.

‘how is it?’ moosaalhu asks, eating his huni roshi and mashuni.

‘most good,’ i respond. ‘yes, most good.’

a road stretches out across the sea and fades – even now, i can tell it doesn’t lead to a place of comfort. it must be travelled alone. there are no constellations, and all the stars look down on you.