Ok. There is this reality, your reality, the common reality which the majority of people accept as the one and only reality.
The common reality is not singular or unique, as many people across the cultural landscape believe, though they are grossly out-numbered by Monorealists who exist only in the Monorealitiverse who set the rules.
These people within their cultures know of and believe that reality is diverse and found in many places beyond the conscious mind. Monorealists call them dreams and nightmares and illusions of the imagination and astral projection and anyone who believes their experiences in such places are real are considered pathologically delusional, especially if said person tells of their experiences in a fashion that they claim to be real events. Some are grossly and improperly denounced as pathological liars, (one who believes their own lies). All to often they are institutionalized.
My corporeal self has had many incredible adventures in the confines of the Common reality and someday, if I live long enough I will offer up an autobiography of said adventures, but in all honesty, none of them compare to the adventures I have had in the Multirealitiverse.
Here I shall share these alternate reality experiences without making any claim as to whether they are real or manufactured.
For the record, I am a Multirealityist and believe that my corporeal is in itself an independent existence, but it is also a vehicle for the less tangent regions of my mind where worlds exist in the multiscape.
The Chair reclines
I close my eyes
I drift away
Into that hinter world
And rise out of the world
The Vagabond Of Europa
Maybe it was a worm hole. If so it formed out of a rainbow that twisted itself into vortex. Maybe it was created by some external entity, or it may have manifested from the influence of my mind. Which ever be the case the portal of escape came at the most convenient moment possible.
I emerged from the monoreality of my corporeal self into the scape of a vast and dark medieval monstrosity recycled into an orphanage estate. Here I existed as a resident, indifferent and unaware of my corporeal vehicle though it was well aware of myself.
A full moon cast its silver light upon the scape. The lawn between myself and the stone colossus of the institution glimmer like a carpet of tiny daggers, adorned with droplets of dew glimmering like diamonds.
I glanced over my shoulder and there, rising ominously from the darkest of all shadowy creatures the entities of a forest. Black tree which like the blades of the lawn were adorned with diamond drop dew.
In the darkness among the trees I spied blue, green, red, and amber eyes all blinking like flashing neon lights, all seeming to be fixed on myself.
And from deeper in the blackest forest I heard cries and howls vicious screams and wails of fear.
A shiver rippled up and back down my spine and with hurried step I put some distance between the forest and myself, but I went only a few yards when I saw someone emerge from the doors of the building main entrance.
I froze stiff in my tracks as the silhouetted intruder came close upon me. My mind shook. It was Rudyard, the night attendant.
“What are you doing out here Donald?” came his raw, thunderous voice.
I replied defensively but truthfully for I had forgotten the vortex. “I do not know Rudyard. I can only guess I was sleep walking.”
Rudyard was not a monster of any kind. In fact, he was quite a pleasant man, but there was always something frightening about his tone and demeanor.
He said, “Well if you were sleep walking you must have gone to bed fully dressed. I suggest you hurry back to the dorm, undress and get to bed.”
“I will.” I replied.
As I rushed toward the main doors of the orphanage Rudyard said, “I won’t report you this time.” It was about the softest I had ever heard him speak.
In a few minutes I was back in bed, done with my sleep walking experience but now my mind was filled with a low noise fear. It is one I lived with every minute of every day, even in my sleep.
I laid there in my bed, a small rectangle with a night stand on my right and a foot locker at the end of the bed. It was one bed in a sea of 49 others, all filled with sleeping orphans just like me.
But among them were five who were the source of my fear. Ross, the leader, had heightened that fear that evening at supper time. He put upon me a threat. “If you do not give me your allowance one of these nights I will bind you tight and drag you into the forest and leave you to be eaten by the wolves.”
His four henchmen all stared at me menacingly, grinning like trollish demons.
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