Welcome to Gaia! ::

Opening my eyes, or perhaps they were already open when my eyes began to focus to my surrounding. It was as if someone had ripped the blindfold off my eyes and deserted me in who knows where. But I know where I am! I AM HERE! This is the reality, my reality of eternal possibilities. It is here that I live in the moment.

I gaze up to the sky. The absence of the sun and the presence of hundreds or thousands of teeny-tiny specks up above meant that it was nighttime. The absence of any artificial light provided me with little answers as to this location.
Looking down I could at least see that I was standing on a dirt road. On either side of the rode grew what looked like to be a rather dark shade of grass. Looking up to my right and to my left all that I could process were shadows, darkness, pitch black nothing. Straight ahead of me was what appeared to be a small building giving off a blue-green hue.
I lacked the urgency to run towards the only sign of life in this unfamiliar setting. I didn’t feel much of anything as I walked at a leisurely pace towards the light. I followed the path of the road and did not question whether or not it would take me to that building.
With step after step and time creeping by the assembly ahead was no longer a speck in the distance. As I came closer to it I could clearly make out distinguishable characteristics. The structure was what appeared to be a urban two-story house. From what could be viewed of the building I could see two sets of windows on both floors. The painting looked to be of a charcoal color while a color of white outlines the frames of the windows and door. Yet, the most exceptional activity to my eyes was that the blue-green hue came from the turquoise fire that thrived within and outside the house. The flames flickered about, waving their tail ends feverishly, endlessly. More importantly it was the lack of burning that caught my attention. I listened for the presence of the crinkle and krackle of the wood being burned but there was silence, even the wind was dead to my ears.

When I was close enough for the turquoise hue to land upon myself, something shifted from the corner of my eye. My line of sight gradually drew upwards to the right side of the second floor’s window. In the window was a black cat with the most entrancing green eyes. It was as if the flames dyed those vessels in its color and those remarkable eyes stared dead straight into my own. It stared at me while in a dignified upright pose as its lengthy tail wrapped over its paws.
How could I have not noticed it? The creature stood there as if it had always been present at that specific spot. But my memory could not be wrong, it could not. From the moment my eyes saw this structure there was only the lack of life visible. And yet here this cat was, watching me as much as I was watching it.
The green-blue flames continued to flicker about while my attention lied solely upon this creature. Then this odd feeling, this expectation of an event to come arose. It had begun to stir within my being with no explanation of what I was to be expecting. The feeling itself felt invasive as if it weren’t really my own feelings that I was feeling. I was unsure if it might have had to do with this odd sensation as I stood rigid on the spot, my senses being sensitive to this unorthodox setting. And yet, I did not feel like questioning it; I did not need to question it.
Then it came, my expectation becoming fulfilled. But deep inside myself, while I was expecting for this certain something to happen, I knew I wouldn’t be prepared for it.

A blur of a image, of some unknown individual surfacing in my mind. The impact of such a sudden occurrence was similar if not the same as the repetitive struggle of grasping a faint memory. That sensation was overbearingly present as I tried to recollect what I had just seen. Yet it was ebbing away like quicksand; the more I concentrated the more it disappeared.
My haste brought no answers other than what I faintly recollected. A child, it was all I could be certain of. Any other details were now lost within the shadows of my mind.
With the occurrence having past I no longer had any reason to stay within my thoughts. I blinked as my mind and I returned to the present. The cat and I were still interlocked with one another, it had not budged an inch from the spot I saw it last. I peered further into the cat’s eyes as if they may hold unnamed answers. When I had peered closer, well…I’m unsure if they had always been this way but it’s eyes seemed to express a look of…sadness?
“Are you content with your life?” Whispered, echoed that of a boy’s voice. I was the first to break eye contact with the cat in order to find the owner of that voice. My gaze combed the surrounding while my mind pondered the question. I first thought about what importance it had for this boy. I couldn’t denounce the thought that my answer weighed heavily on him. It was the tone of his voice that led my mind to come to this conclusion. And once that was reached I wondered if I was indeed content with my life. Oh but I didn’t need to think too hard on the question...and yet I felt myself unable to convey those feelings.
“You aren’t,” it whispered once again. My gaze had caught sight of no other signs of life with the exception of us. At least, I had expected there to be an ‘us’ when I looked back to the second floor’s window. However I did not dismay about the disappearance of the cat for something caught the corner of my eyes once more. It drew my gaze downwards to the front steps of the house.
Sitting on the steps was an individual who leaned themselves against the other steps. I assumed it be a child solely based on its size. Its face was covered up by its white hoodie hood, its hands were hidden in the front pouch of its garment while its legs, adorned in a navy blue jean, were neatly placed on the steps below. It did not face me but faced what was to be my right. I too looked over to my right to see the faint traces of what appeared to be a dead-looking forest. I looked back at the child-sized person but they kept their gaze on the forest; covered in shadows.
“Can you be content with Life?” The voice rose in volume and ceased to be an echo. To my ears the boy’s voice came from the person in front of me.
“Can you ever be satisfied with Life?” I wasn’t at all sure why this boy was asking such question but it did spark my curiosity. So I began to ponder about these philosophical questions about Life. I thought and though about it and arrived at this conclusion: I was content, I was satisfied with Life…at one point; I think I was.
The air was filled with silence, the figure continued to lie still on the steps and I felt uncomfortable with this ongoing silence.
“I’m….,” I paused. I wanted to choose my words carefully as I didn’t have a clue as to what effect it may have for the person in front of me, for that child.
“…uncertain because I don’t think that it is Life that makes me unsatisfied or satisfied, content or not.” It moved just a bit, like a jolt ran through its body. I wasn’t sure if it was startled that I spoke or by what I had just said. It slowly turned its head in my direction but I was still unable to view its face.
“You do not blame Life for your suffering?” The words were surely spoken in a whisper but they rang clear in my ears.
In response to its question I gave a slow but certain nod. The individual shifted their head more to my direction. I could finally see a partial of their face, the shape of their lips, the smooth curve of the nose but I could not see their eyes.
“Then do you blame the living?” I gave a shake of my head.
“Do you blame the Living?” Another shake.
“What do you blame?” It lifted its head and I could finally make eye contact with the individual in front of me. Its face…it looked so familiar but I could not think more on that topic; not when he looked at me with those curiosity-filled, chestnut-colored eyes. I felt rendered speechless in his gaze. His face was of that of a child, that innocent look, the symbol for purity…I felt…unable to deceive this boy should I even attempt such a task.
As much as I could stare into those eyes in silence I was pressed for an answer that no nod or shake of the head could possibly suffice to answer. With those eyes looking straight into my own I found it incredibly difficult to think of an answer. And yet something arose out of me and out of my mouth,
“Time,” I murmured. It was the first thought that had come to my mind; it was the first thought that was spoken from my mouth in response to the boy’s question.
“Time.” He reiterated the word and appeared to have gone lost in his thoughts.
“You don’t blame anything else? Anyone else?” I shook my head.
“Why?” Another bubble surfaced in my mind and my mouth began to translate that thought into words that I did not fully comprehend at that moment.
“Its simpler to blame someone or something else for a problem. But that something that drives us, pushes us, and essentially leads many to suffer is Time.” Such words flowed from my mouth so easily but my mind was attempting its best to decode these words to where I could better understand them.
The boy casted his gaze to the ground and it was then that I felt that my brain was able to think up ideas again. But the moment for ideas and well thought out answers had passed. The short bliss in being able to comfortablly think to myself was swiftly gone as he looked back at me. This time, his lips were curved in a smile and his eyes appeared relieved, perhaps mixed with joy?
“Then, will you help me?”