In the early days of my life, I chanced upon an invisible path and followed it to the end. It took me to the places vibrant with pure energy.

This path that appeared suddenly between two trees, in an open field, I went after it like the snake in the river. Upon stepping on the bright line, something cold escaped me, a fluid of sorts. The path flashed, twice.

The ground was soft and warm. There was no need to move : the path was drawing me in. Perhaps I should have turned back, but I never felt fear looming over me.

I arrived at some kind of barrier. The difference in atmosphere was, if anything, faint. Nothing more than a soft blur in the vision. A passage, hidden away in plain sight. That wall was just there, a few inches away, absolutely invisible, yet vividly present.
It wrinkled at me. I gulped.

I tried to see on the other side, gently pressing myself on the membrane. Things beyond were vibrating out of phase and in phase again. The sensation was delicate and smooth.

The wall pulsated slightly: yes.
I pushed against it, sliding inside.

The transistion was subtle and slow, but soon it became quite obvious I would be unable to recall where I came from. Advancing in this transparent ooze, I pressed forward on the white groove. The sky was flushed with crimson lights and dancing shapes.

On the way, a pair of Trees came to me. They were Portals.
I stopped and looked at them.

After a while there was a pool, a dark hole in the ground, filled with glowing opalescent waves. It undulated softly. It was blue and green, and transparent and liquid. Firm ground lay behind me and this stuff was in front, it went on for a while and I could see through it, and I could see the stars in it.

I could feel no danger. There was no danger.

Tunnels, spirals, forests, rivers, tubes, holes, starfields, vortices and elevators. All there before the infinitely blue water.

As I jumped in the pool, I felt my body disintegrating. As I came closer and closer to the surface, I felt more of that fluid energy seeping out of me. It smelled like flowers. Things started slowing down, until full-stop.

What I was looking at became what I was looking through.
I saw myself disappear in the horizon of the pool, in my horizon.

Without a trace.
I was gone.

The molecules of my former body were dispersing inside the hole. The blurring sensation lingered for a while and vanished.

I tried moving. The pool oscillated.

It felt different, to say the least.

Other animals came and fell into the pool. I watched as their bodies penetrated and dissolved slowly. I tried undulating at them to stop. There was nothing I could do. Eventually they sank and disappeared. At first I felt for them, but soon it became normal. They were, after all, headed on the same journey as me.

Days passed, probably years. Time spun a web around me, and I slowly forgot all that I had been before.

I grew conscious of my containment. The ground around me, the mountains in the distance, the sky above. I could feel them. They were all part of my material, somehow, but they were also the limits of my self. I knew ages had come before and would come after, yet this moment was specific and mine.

I saw light travelling at the speed I chose.
And all the things in reach vibrating silently in response.
I was hungry for more, and wanted to leap again.

So I waited patiently for something to happen.
Something else was flashing, deep down in the black pool, something separate. It was moving. The contours of it were growing more and more pronounced, until it became the substance of tangible presence.

It was that seeping energy. A spirit. It came close to me.
I waved at it. It waved back. We exchanged pulsations and particles.

It sang to me. The Spirit's voice was prismatic, and as it chanted softly the things around us responded by changing colors.

I too walked the long gallery and fell,
I joined the clouds in their aerial dance;
Like you, I move from thing to thing.

Let me be your guide,
Our voyage will be invisible;
And to the void off we'll go.

A Mighty might in search of action;
And there you go,
And there we go ~

I was willing to continue, so the Spirit took me somewhere else. We rode and passed and strode accross. We hunted the land to open up the spaces. We looked at the light, at the animals mating, at the time it takes for a rock to grow.

Time in, time out.
Mountains in a mountain range. A stone cut in half, that cut in the stone. We slip inside. The thunder clasps as I sheathe my veins. Gold, diamond and ore tingle down below, as the streams of water and lava flow. We hide under myself.

Mineral life is slow life.

The wind is brushing on the peaks. On the hills, I can feel the forest as it sleeps and grow. Time and again, a boulder snaps off somewhere, and tumbles down the slopes, loudly. With a sudden, sharp cracking sound, a complete cliff crumbles to the ground.

My body is full of seams, caves and cracks. I feel the animals, as they hide inside. I listen to the tremors: they come from the core. The mountain is deep, a thousand layers of clay, silt and stone, pilling up on a seat of heat.

Underneath, stirs and whispers, the magma sea seas.
It is much more deeper than me, it is full of verve and blaze.
I float for a while, on the waves of it, as it tides and wakes.
I feel how it is bearing me.

In the depths of the crust, lava hides and waits, like a snake in the bush. Steam and smoke fume from the deep, through the little channels in between. As my heavy body weighs down on the mantle of the land, densities build and eddies form.

I am just a cap on the heat.
Sometimes pressure makes the stone give.
Bubbles pop in the magma and the rocks. It becomes a foam of orange froth. In the darkness below this flow is a glow, a spume pouring upwards. Pressure builds. The mantle melts.

The molten rock stirs and swells. Popping pouches of gas push the lather through the crust. The rock is broken by the violence of the thrust.

After a while, it is untenable. I cannot mountain anymore.
I must erupt to jettison the hot stuff.

The spirit at my side whispers. Go.

And lo, the mountain gives. I give.

I am a jet of heat.
I am an explosion of myself.

The volcano spits a blast.

As rocks are hurled in all directions, I escape this solid state.
Palls of smoke take us with them. Ashes fill the blue sky, as the darkness sets. We were the light of the day, cut in half.

Underneath us, the ground is glowing. The lava devours the ground and the many things on it : it is running down the hill, its many arms spread in a star, around the vent.

Substance blackens when it cools, smokes quantity.

We joined with the other clouds, of all heights, rolling outwards in the twilight. Mixing colors, we billowed and climbed, to reach the crest, and saw the valley spread out before us.

In the very high atmosphere, the vapor waves wave.
The Spirit waves with them.

I am the middle inside-out,
The vital fizz pouring through;
I am the animals running.

Birds sing and chirp so far so low,
My action is my real size.
It is energy that matters.

A web of cinders is a web of stars:
Colors mold in gossamer gold,
While the pillars hide and fold ~

Night sets. The land goes dark and silent.

As I vaporize, I nebulize. The edges fog and clear, in all subtlety, through intricate coils of disintegrating loops.

The mist in the distance is calling.

Clouds are gathering, hither and thither, all in the semblance of me. Amongst the sable ones, the moisture-laden air stirs. We are coming, churning, we are so many, so far. We assemble in a choir of rumble. Volts and swirls whirl and sway.
The air is full of great agitation. We slip deeper within. Gases rouse one another. Particles scatter in confusions. A potential is never wholly predictable.

Down in the valley, the wind is warning, bending the trees to unimaginable degrees. It starts to rain, downpour, like in the beginning. Animals run to shelter, in the caves and shells built or found.

I tackle the storm, leaping closer to the ground. Inside becomes outside. Electricity makes it happen: the propagation of the charges, endless reflections in curved euclidian spaces.
Light splinters, cells shiver, the sound shards.

So utters the Spirit:

Astral shields on terrestrial fields,
I fathom a bridge between the twain:
A way to find the secret forms.

An isolated place on a plateau:
A body of energy in the shape of a ray,
The obstacle flows into the void.

I am in the power of things,
They resist and exceed my grasp:
Vibrant matter just like this ~

For a split-second, the lightning rod illuminates the sky with a thousand colors ablaze. I trickle down the spear. I become the bolt. Lightspeed me.

I touch base, and lightning hits me. A romantic interface.

A moment ago, the land was busy trading pulsations and particles with the dark colored clouds, just high enough so as to feel each other through the haze. Just low enough to pass unnoticed.

And now the land is broken in a million parts, rushing my spirit through. Impossible to resist this perforating power. All the rods of light, thrust into my body. Into my faces and sides, spatial lattices break apart. Vacancies grow.

Imbued with energy, I scorch and sing. Rumble and flurry in the land full of things, as I topple myself in a circular wave of deflagrating expansion. Thunder thunders over the valley.

All was dark and a dark wind blew and all I knew was that I had been pierced in all sorts of places by the light beams, the glistening lines of the night sky's fever and trance still shimmering in the away.

I sit under the storm as it passes. The sky clears, and comes back the light of the day. The soil dries out. Time passes over me.

I will see a forest grow and burn. I will live through floods and spells. The plates will slide. The animals and the plants will change form. I will witness an ocean filling me.
I will become that ocean.

Over time it became clear that the animals were growing. And rapidly. Like that forty-two feet long snake, or that giant sloth that evolved alongside the avocado, twenty feet from tail to head, or these aquatic monsters no one ever knew the name of. At some point, there were some truly immense animals roaming the surface of the planet. Giants, really.
They were quite a sight indeed.

The light was a clean color, and I could see very very far and the waters within me were all vortices and turbulence. The planes drifting underneath were casting valleys, rifts and underwater pits.

Suddenly there came an uproar of agitation.

The animals started running in all sorts of directions. They were colorful in their panic, falling in the faults and ridges, stresses and struts. I looked into their eyes and saw the places they were from and the fear of not returning.

Something bigger was taking place. I could feel it in the farthest stretches of the crust. I grope my way through the converging plates. It doesn't look too good for the fragile and the tiny.

The Spirit gestures. Come.

Somewhere in the sky, a metallic tube is dropped from another metallic tube.

The smaller tube is pulled down by the ground, and it is falling fast. And I am falling fast. And the tube is getting hot, and I am blowing up the ocean in mounds of wavy water, circulating through the channels in a frenzy. As I grapple to catch it, as I crash into it.

I follow the Spirit as I fall into the ocean. I am engulfed in this body of water, and my connections break up and reconnect in a different manner. My radius increases as my extensions become many.

I am the tube, I am the sea, I am a vast explosion.

I unfold, invisible, an unintelligible arrival inside the ocean. Only the water in the sea could contain me. I am emergence, rivalising with the disappearance of the impact and the manifestation of its energy. I am almost a thing.

A dance unfolds between the tube that is crushed by the impact, the insides that are bursting the shell, the water that is moving away from the collision and the water that is filling the void. A complicated turmoil indeed.

In this confusion, I think of things.

I exist in this specific place, where all the bonds are broken and all the particles are thrown here and there. All is a big mixing of matter for a moment that is very long because it is full of things happening all at once.

And for just a while, in this shifting state, I am all the occurences of that explosion, all the ways it could end, all the shapes it could coalesce into.

The complexity is blue and full of grids and offsets, and as I try to cast light on it, it is blocking me with a body. I can see through but can never get there in full luminance. Something is lost in the image. Too many layers stand between it and I.
It is obscure but close, I step closer everytime and at one point I will get there.

This veil will be lifted, removed from my way, or perhaps I will come so close to the veil that I will absorb it, and become the waterfall and the river, as I hide behind them, and the thundering noise will make me forget what I was before I entered this new understanding - of what is a form and what is almost one - and as my eyes are looking at the water that is falling my eyes are falling with the water, in a gravity of shapes similar and not. I combine parts of my bodies with the bodies of others.

It is so hard to say what I am because it is so subtle what I am.
I am energy unspoken of, hidden behind the things for so long, inside the things in the things, I am the very nature of the intermediary, the interval, of what lies inside what is visible.

And I try to say what I am and I am not that anymore.
You could say it's not clear where I begin and where I end. The Spirit at my side whispers. But what is beginning?

What is the thunder before it strikes?
What is the air before it fills the sky?
What is the earth before it was this sphere of land?

How did the parts assemble in the void?
How did they get here?

Why did the little things start moving on the surface?

Moons pass.

What is a flame without the glow it gives?
Can we see the shape I'm shaped into?

I am the result of so many operations but I am not so many operations. I am a single wave.

In this confusion of waves, I am whisked away. I wash up on the beach.

Whales pass.

Heads of foam flutter in the wind. Bubbles fly by. A little rainbow is hidden in each one of them, as they rotate against each another. Great waves push the surf further on the seashore.

As the waves crash and spit, I join again with the oozes of the sea. The floatsam and jetsam. I float on interstitial liquids I vaguely try to contain.

As I do, I develop a taste for having stuff inside me - of such different consistencies and shapes, colors and textures, resolvenesses and attitudes - that I cannot quite grasp where the fence is, again. I am proud to be a species of inner space, a cosm containing many things, all in action and all in motion.

Ships pass.

I am loosing containment. The gas balls pop in rythm. Blades and rocks cut through me. I can see where this leads. In five or ten minutes, I'll be completely inconspicuous, diluted inside this vaster thing that is a distance.

I wiggle in the wind. My parts dissociate. Their globules float freely, puffing and toking briskly. The sun shines.

A sudden whiteness inundates me, a screen of effervescent light, tasting of salt and air. Departing ridge, departing cliff, I stir the invisible moisture of the air. My parts are innumerable and weblike, they band up like marbles and snake up the hill. A conjunction of mere space and tiny elements.

I spiral up in the sky into some calm little clouds. They're hues of gray, full of steam and ready to waterfall. The moon makes them full of radiant backlight bliss, so I can soar even higher, and expect the land to shine after the black storm, my storm, a whiff of water for the earth.

Planes pass. Rain falls.

Waters catch me slowly, as each droplet leaves me, it empties me, erases me - and I feel the dash of air as it streams by in reverse. The gravity draws me out of breath and I fall in millions into the river. The current carries me down. I disperse in a lake, a million waters, new waters.

I am laking.
Laking is long.

Things occur. Trees grow. Animals mate.

An animal by the shore is drinking some of my water.
We glide through. The Spirit hides in the brain. The animal is a deer.
I can see through the eyes of the deer. It is looking at a swimming animal. It is also looking at an animal standing by the lake. It is attentive. Danger is emerging.

The deer sees the animal in the water swimming here and there, catching things on the surface, diving deeper. It also sees the animal on the shore moving about, with a long stick in his legs.

The deer hears a grunt on the shore and a plop in the lake.
A shiny line is strung between the stick in the legs of one animal and the mouth of the other animal. The string is tensing up.

The animals are battling accross the line. From the eyes of the deer I leap into the danger zone.
Inadvertently I land in the animal in the water. Pain engulfs me. A fast light is pulling me by the jaw. The air is hurting me as much as the hook. The hook is killing me.

Before the end, I jump to the hook. I become the line, that is strung, between animals, as I reel back and forth, as they fight over me. I am the midst of the action, rolling faster and faster, and the fingers that are pulling the length of me are getting closer and closer to the animal that I was that is now expiring.

From the line, I become the many pulling fingers.

Oh! We got a big one. We got a big trout coming up.

The skin is pulling as I am pulling the skin.

Beyond my skin, muscles are pulling, bent rows of vessels. They bind the body of the animal. A body of blood. Full of blood. I contain and pull. And then there's all the rushing things in my veins. They channel me.

I go back up the river, so fast. Going up, to the spring, where I come from. That's it. It's there that it is, I can see it, I can be it. A tree of bloodlines. Pump it slowly. Relax the body of its muscles.

In the heart, the blood sleeps. In the moss. The little things are moving slower, turning into stones and gems of wonderful colors. I go up, to this place that is sacred.
Time passes in the haze. I lose track.
Branches the brains, unfolds the dreams. Grows around me the plans of a final fantasy.

I see myself. I am inside myself.
I am the moss that I float in. That grows around me.
A million capsules. A tussle of a thousand clusters.

The animal is sleeping. The animal is gone. The tiny branches take a century to grow. And a century later they're not really that bigger.

I crunch. I am stepped on. I snap. A mouth somewhere takes a bite. Centuries centuries...

From inside the animal, I hear the Spirit calling me.

Transfer transfer jupiter jupiter!
To one object from the next,
Get to know all the rest.

Excelsior excelsior!
Be their private special life
Mystic encounters with the wild.

What does it mean to be,
In a transversal ecology?
Transfer transfer juniper juniper!

We join in with the animal. It is the deer, the one from before.
From a stone to a patch of green grass.

I like the wind that runs by and hides in my fur.
And the mountain that is mountaining and the huge sky and the birds that are circulating the mountain.
And all in all is little things I can't see.
And I stand with my head to the wind and I listen.

I hear the shot. I become the shot.
I am the bullet where the gun is.
A line I've become, again.

I close in on the deer. I burn the air around me.

I see the eyes of the animal. He is kind and gentle.
As he tries to escape, we collide intricately.

As I enter the brains of the animal, I ask the Spirit why the deer dies. The Spirit shows me the things that lie within, how they unravel and disperse. How they transform and pass. I understand what shapeshifting is about.

I follow the bullet outside. We hit a tree, violently.
Channels again, vertically so.

The leaves as they spread in the light, synthesize. Roots in the ground absorb the water and substances. Sap flows through me. I reach into space, slowly, delicately.

Time gets so slow, as I grow and regrow. The leaves as they fall, come back and fall again.
Under stars and bodies and soil and stuff, my time is my own.

I am a body of wood. And as time eats away, I am eaten away.
By this thing that is white and so full of threads. It is there, in my roots, over me, into me.

An alien to me, I am the alien in me.

I eat the things that I need to survive. I emit the glow that lights up the ground. And I change the color of myself as the day passes by. And from red to blue, and from blue to purple, and from purple to yellow, and from yellow to red.

Landrises and landsets, and I cover up the planet.

I am the earth in rotation.
I am gazing upon the stars in the substance of tangible presence.
I am the stars in my eyes, burning the size of a million volcanoes.
I am something within these eyes, a flash of all-of-a-sudden importance. A ray of light that I penetrate in and travel with.

Linking in non-linear form, differences are not erased but associate. I am the singular in multiplicity, and I branch from one pole to the other. Because I can't stop.

I choose nothing.

As I'm turning to blue, a complete hue cast over, I slip out of it all. Out of shape, out of form, the naked energy that I am.
No one's looking, after all.

The Spirit is with me. It is free too, it is singing, too.

Without something to be in, I sense all the things I could verse into. All I see is the line that is drawn across them, how they are sorts of the same. Constellations of similarity.

Under the guise of the no-form, I linger on - to see what is to happen to me - and how I feel about being totally body-free.

I am my own guide around the universe, from the beginning to the end. Vessel to vessel. A vibrancy shapeshifting.

Changing forms of energy.

Leaving the bodies brings me clarity. I start emitting.
It is faint at first, but as memory vanishes the things I was, it becomes a wider flare. I draw a circle in the light of the land. I float over it, and maneuver into the distance.

I am a ball of glow now. And I will grow as we go, boundless and free, to the edges of the galaxy. Beings of pure energy.
To the void off we go.

A Mighty might in search of action;
And there you go,
And there we go ~