Innerworld
But when you cross over... time stops. When I came back... I knew... all the things I could see were real. Heaven and hell were right here. Behind every wall, every window. The world behind the world, and we're smack in the middle.
-John Constantine
You have one.
Whether you choose to admit it, or even acknowledge it, your innerworld exists- the reality behind the reality. Your shadow place. The secret refuge from the routine, from the daily grind, where your not-so-guilty pleasures explode and unencumbered fantasies materialize. Much like your outerworld, the landscape there brims with desire and temptation, with one profound difference- in that place, your special place, it is all up close, tangible, and infinitely more vivid; there are zero encumbrances preventing your engagement. Held in check by societal norms, there you are not. Pinned down by regulation, authority, social decorum, or the demands of others, there you are not. So when you find that opportune moment, evening, or weekend, you stealthily slip into your secret passage, then plunge into the dimly lit arena, head first.
Your chiseled-torso Adonis lives there, as does your tender Venus. They await you with gifts, firm and ready. Masks, cuffs, glorious music, impossibly rich chocolate morsels. The sweetest rose petal nectar. Sometimes you invite like-minded friends to join in and writhe about. Once immersed, without a second thought you leap into the fray...at which point your outerworld ceases to exist. You permit yourself to get lost, to absorb your passions so intimately and completely that the arbitrary boundaries between your physical and your fetish blur, transcending into a singularity. Pleasure, as you always long for it, floods you. Deep wet tongues; perspiring, tight skin, the joyous pain of sharp fingernails. The soul of your lover pours out through her eyes and into your own.
Ecstasy. Time has not stopped; it has simply ceased to exist. There is no more other. You are the embodiment of bliss, floating in a heavenly ocean of primordial love, impassioned and willingly tangled in flesh, and so very, very deep.
This is your place, your innerworld; a sanctuary you created, candle by candle, feather by feather, your entire adult life. You have continued to renovate and redefine it through the years as your inner passions matured and shifted. When you allow yourself, you let yourself go there; but the time must be right. The more routinely you go, the more your daily existence becomes not only livable, but enjoyable, as innerworld memories crash over its banks to better fulfill your outerworld moments.
So go.
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