Part 17: The number one public enemy of illusion

Now I understand why the unicorn stayed in Luz's impossible dream. Not all dreams possess part of The Throat of the Wind. Or at least, in these modern times, there aren't many of those "crazy minds" anymore.

The throat plays with the times as it pleases. Maybe that's why this story looks so messy. And if we add Lucifer's sponsorship, it is clear that the saying is more than true: "The Devil knows more for an old man than for the Devil".

And the fact that Mr. Wind has burned the skin of Luz, the supposed material for his flag, does not seem to me to be pure whim. So this state abounds within Luz. No, because the residue of incinerating Luz's skin results in yellow dusts identical to those of Mrs. Marisa.

Is this woman the Devil's wife or something?

"This dust belongs to the sun, to the part of the sun that lies in this land of cold. It's here because it needs to revive, otherwise this world could be without sunlight forever.

I don't want to scare anyone. Moreover, I know that no one's conscience could remember my words.

Instead, the subconscious in adolescence will remember everything very well. Maybe not in images, but in presentiments and inexplicable fears. It is the senses that remember.

When everyone's senses remember my words, it will mean that the sunlight has little time left."

Those little dusts teleported them to a world that has nothing to do with their impossible dream or with my wonderful world. An indescribable world. A world where you can't know anything, but you can feel everything.

I say that because I can't see anything of that universe. I can only smell various aromas that protect the integrity of this world. Fragrances that, as soon as I describe them, will take me to another subject and, therefore, will divert me from this enigmatic new landscape within the land of magic ice.

Nevertheless, both Luz and Alexis must be able to enter this indescribable landscape. Marisa altered her fears and forebodings to some degree for some reason.

I know that her memory inside Luz's mind knows that I am the one narrating this story at this very moment. And, though you may differ with me, the sun is always in the present, even when it is evoked in a memory.

"Light travels through the void and this one is forged from pure past. But it is this emptiness that is the space to create everything that explains the pain or... to accompany you in solitude.

Sometimes I am one and you are the other, and vice versa. I just don't want the past to be present in the form of art. That has already killed..."

That yellow powder turned back the time only a few minutes and Marisa talked to Alexis to talk to Luz.

"You have been friends since you were 9, no way to leave things like that. It's almost impossible for an adult to reason with Luz. I hope you are not as stubborn as she is. I know you're the only one who can reason with her."

He was the only one who had access to her deepest feelings. Just as only she could access his.

However, when Alexis went to talk to her he almost let slip a secret.

"Don't ,tell it half-heartedly, talk, who did the art kill?"

Luz challenged him with the scrutiny of her gaze. But he already knew the way to deal with challenges he didn't want to participate in.

"If you take it I'll tell you."

He smiles as he lifts the bottle of alcohol altered by the wit of a 14 year old.

"Not that I wasn't your guinea pig, what do you want with that liquor?

It's liquor just the same, sorry, but it's junk."

Luz couldn't help but remember all the things she's seen her neighbors across the street do when they've been drunk. Broken bottles, screams, expletives and the cries of frightened children.

"It's not liquor, but that's popular and popular sells. It tastes like wine, but it's not. It doesn't matter if popular is true or false. The creator and his audience are always fooling themselves....

Sometimes I wonder why most of us pay for others to encourage us to deceive ourselves.

Are you going to keep it a secret from me?"

He whispers in her ear and she gives him an unusual shudder. She feels as if her vital clock has struck again.

This statement is not at all literal since this shudder is nothing more than, as it were, the pat on the buttock one gives newborns to see if they cry. The creation of the impossible dream has begun.

"Only if you show me how you made that liquor."

They both had a mischievous grin. The kind that says more than a thousand words.

The kind that says more than a thousand words?

It just happened. That indescribable world of the sun. Now I have no doubt that this universe is based on the gestures and gestures of Alexis and Luz.

One of the advantages of being a storyteller is that words attract both blessings and curses or truth and lies. That is why I can lie, but not because I want to.

If I ever lie to you, it's because the writer of this story wanted it that way. Maybe Lucifer has something to do with it, but I don't like conjecture that doesn't feel like a near certainty.

I'm the only one who can connect directly with the writer of this story. It would be great if I could find whatever it is that connects us.

What I can assure you is that, while I don't know if all human sayings are true, the last saying I mentioned to you is as true as the first one I mentioned.

What's more, something gives me the feeling that these are more important than I thought.

"With the creation of the first saying, the human being's reasoning and empathy for his fellow man began. After all, sayings are warnings so that no one makes the same mistake again; but we still keep making the same mistakes.

What I mean is that sayings can promote humanity, man's ability to feel outside himself.

Outside of us there is the present, but inside of us there is only the past. Or so it is for almost everyone I know.

Otherwise, we would not make the same mistakes. We would not do things to remain stagnant."

Luz's mother would not let her daughter go alone with anyone other than Alexis. That is why she gave them permission to go to the square and get wet in the pool.

And that is exactly what they were doing. Both were among the first to take a shower in the water of the pool. They danced naked around the pool, while Alexis explained his big project to her.

It was a tradition in this place to welcome La Luna as soon as the sun went down. Dancing and singing. That was how Alexis was talking to Luz, through the lyrics of an invented song.

He sang to her when one of the drops brushed her mouth. This so that no one but her could hear him. Of course, for this it was also necessary for them to carry the least possible burden. That's why they only had to dance without clothes.

However, the water in this pool makes everyone, including Alexis, see her dressed. They all see themselves dressed the way they want to.

"Your melodies I don't like, but your words are like the slide down which trust slipped, until she was frozen in the snow.

I suppose the sayings are just the remnants left of my soul when my innocence slipped. They slipped to go in search of whatever in the world inside the bottle.

Dare you read the message inside my bottle?"

Alexis was not surprised that she was so quick to grasp the essence of what he meant. What was never going to fail to impress him was how quickly she could create lyrics and music to save herself. To remember her own sayings and not die in a world where what feeds you hurts you at the same time. Wanting it too fast perhaps was the cause. The cause for this world to be made of words that hurt and despair.

"The ghosts that the mind attracts to survive are the kind that need other undead to feed on. Especially when I fall into the lake in the shape of our embraces.

I think the shape of our hugs is a spice that would make them run from the bottle world straight into our lives.

The addiction is so reciprocal that any excuse to make it second nature is always welcome. The mind is ready to surrender when it catches our souls and fills them with claustrophobia.

Then, they (the ghosts) will arrive and the sayings will be the magic key that will give them access to our souls.

Only in that instant we will be able to know who we were before we slipped... who we are".

A certain "nervousness" ran through his fingers with which he was touching Luz's lower back. They were both aware that, although he saw her in an electric blue dress and she saw him in a suit, in reality they were completely naked.

Luz's chest was rising and falling like a wave that did not know whether to provoke a tidal wave inside her. Even so, her rational part was more alert than ever. She was processing all the information he had given her in an arrhythmic stanza. She already had an answer and she needed to talk. Singing, making the words bathe in harmony, was the only way to stay grounded.

Though her mother trusted Alexis, she had always told her that no boy, bar none, was to be trusted if he made her lose her head.

That was exactly how she felt at that moment. She couldn't feel her feet stepping in the snow. For Luz, she was dancing in the clouds, not the kind that abounded in the sky. She was dancing on the clouds where nothing rained down that hadn't burned before. Nothing that wasn't golden dust.

Yes, the new clouds had as their base pieces of her skin and falling from these, golden dust (ashes of the stubborn passion of her soul).

"If your words are so long, it is because the paper inside the bottle is already wet with the transparency of some ghost. But I don't want to share your words with anyone.

If we could give something incredible and indescribable, words could never lock us into that concept called love? have you ever been in love?"

The corners of her lips touched and seemed to form the wings of a butterfly of the new human species.

Their profiles matched perfectly. As if their faces were part of the same puzzle.

Their foreheads rubbed as if seeking resignation. Especially him, who kisses his forehead with gasps.This leaves certain spaces in the sky of that other wonderful world. Spaces that separate some clouds from others.

She sighed slowly, as if she had savored every particle of air. Or, as if she knew that with every wish with which she repressed her tears a cloud was born. A cloud waiting for her home to be painted electric blue. No longer light blue.

His breath left enough distance between cloud and cloud for each to know itself.

Her sighs created so many clouds that there would most likely be no room for any oversized stars.

But there always has to be a king, doesn't there?

A king or a wise man to solve Luz's doubt.

The poor butterfly they had formed (the corners of Luz and Alexis' lips) felt its first pain when they separated their corners.

With the kiss on the forehead, that space between Alexis' lips and Luz's forehead was made to be the butterfly's nest. However, as the nest is on Luz's forehead, she has more influence.

Although Luz's childhood was between Barbie and Disney cartoons or fantasy and magic realism books (her favorite literary current); she didn't want to remember those times too much because of certain family issues that not even the cartoons could make her forget. Or maybe she did, but the wonderful world was so short-lived that it was not worth remembering.

Why were the happy moments of his life slipping away so quickly?

That thought threatened to destroy the nest. But what it did do was cause the butterfly to notice that it was missing a wing. That was when its childhood was liquidated. Life always overtakes the naïve. I wouldn't know it or anyone else.

The presentiment of destruction helped the butterfly to be prepared; for when Alexis' lips put pressure on Luz's forehead through a kiss.

With a kiss, Alexis returned the wing that he had taken from the butterfly when he distanced the corner of his lips from Luz's.

Although the butterfly was falling, this was the opportunity to recover its other wing.

"We've all been in love at least once."

Sometimes Luz wondered, as she did at that moment, the reason why even in that romantic and enchanting instant she could not stop talking to herself through images. Mental paintings that explain everything so that fear is subjected to faith and she remembers how it feels to trust without a doubt.

Frustration and panic made the skin on her cheeks covered by Alexis' palms tremble slightly. She wished she could believe in the safety of his embrace. How she wished she could hold him tighter. Just a little closer.

Luz wanted to read something similar in his gaze. She wanted him to be honest. With her, there were enough "true lies" between the two of them.

However, she couldn't blind herself because innocence had already given her too many "blue dawns".

Her eyes were on alert, similar to those of a hesitant cat, her words were bittersweet and her lips moved in small stretches of a second. Half-open lips that look like a book that threatens to trap your feelings forever inside its pages.

A book, where the words are trapped in quotation marks or in the dashes of the script.

"And that very day they broke our hearts."

Those words had a straining effect on them, but more so in the pool water.

The drops of water were no longer content to quench the thirst of the earth. Those that had fallen near the tips of Luz's white slippers, went up and furrowed the instep of the slipper and began their way up Luz's body.

The butterfly could not breathe under water because of its nature, but this particular water had an added value. The water in this pool had a three-dimensional essence. It not only sought to bathe the body of any conscious or non-conscious living being. It wished to be able to bathe and remove the impurities of the unconscious in its totality, without body.

Reality had filled the water. For it, evil was necessary, otherwise its existence would be meaningless; but only that which came from the impurities of the consciousness.

To tell the truth, the unconscious was something new for water. They did not belong to the same time. There are few who know the origin of the unconscious and I have not crossed words with any of the aforementioned.

Although some say that only aerial animals know this great mystery. I don't think that all of them, I think they only say it so that this mystery doesn't seem to be a big deal to us.

After all, each animal species has its own secrets. Mysteries that do not leave each species, but all these secrets are known to water.

Is the unconscious the real mystery child?

And all mysterious kids need a friend who is interested in their mystery; but not just to listen.

If we talk about friends, the only sincere friend of the soul is water. It does not seek to obtain something from the soul, but rather wants the soul to relate to the world. Water is life because it encourages you to keep dreaming. It is transparent because it is the mirror of dreams.

This interpersonal ability is because it is the only one that can cross the line between the unconscious and the conscious. Of course, in the unconscious it is defenseless. Here dreams are not reflected in the water, here dreams do the work of water. There would be nothing wrong, if this did not cause people like Luz to live the life that was in front of their senses. However, instead of letting life come closer, they become more and more abstracted.

A clear example is this narration, more prose than dialogue, more flaws or virtues are highlighted in the words than in the characters themselves. Or maybe they are highlighted, but not as vividly as they should be.

SHOW NOT TALK

Do you realize that even the book itself tries to draw your interest away from it?

It's just that everything here has a relationship and explanation that not everyone will agree with. I guess the writer of this story does agree. Yes, as far as I know Lucifer hasn't stuck his "little hands" in the keyboard.

The writer and the water are the only ones who can cross the line within this story. The line between the unconscious and conscious. The same line formed by the circumvallations inside Luz's skull. The only string that can make the butterfly catch its wing.

Luz's neurons were beginning to reorganize because the tsunami alert was already threatening a war initiated by an unknown author (if I told you my suspicions, your intuition would not feel it was true).

"I don't want to talk anymore, I don't want to think about you or anyone else..."

Luz had one of those attacks of fear and exasperation that struck her when her feelings and her reason mixed the reflections and lucubrations of her heart and her head at the same time. Water was the product of that mixture. Yes, because only in the moments when she felt drowned she was sincere.

She stumbled when she tried to run away from Alexis, then fear took hold of her. In that instant, the line delineated by the circumvallations reproduced lines of expression under her slightly cheeked cheeks.

They say fear paralyzes, but it depends on the type of fear to know what will stop it. Her reason was always susceptible to this, but her feelings, her senses, were given over completely to the wind. This is who is free from the editor and Lucifer. Because this wind is the only element of this story that his senses can grasp in the reality in which he lives. No one can step on this one. Even if they lock him up, he will come out and regenerate in outer space (that's why not even a nose can pick him up). No one can make the wind afraid because it is the human brain that needs it and not the other way around. Impossible dreams are only attractive to it because there lie the parts of itself that it cannot recover. Not easily. He can always get out, but even immortals don't fail to pay a price.

That is why the wind has given an immortal force to Luz's neurons so that, in spite of her almost 14 years, she got those little wrinkles describing her chubby cheek. So that...

The sky inside her head begins to fade to take other tones far from the light blue.The sky does not take too long to decide its color: purple.

Just as Alexis does not think twice and, driven by impulses, he kisses her in a desperate way, as if he had a premonition of misfortune, and together with her they impact (him on her) against the ice rink that the wind dug out of the snow.

He lives it with a conscience full of hysteria... "The devil knows more for old than for Devil".

She lives it with the unconscious stripped of a name that identifies him.

Nevertheless, Alexis turned away when Luz began to move as if her whole body was the synthesis of all the heartbeats she has wasted during her whole life up to that moment.

The reflection of the little wrinkles on Luz's cheeks are used by the butterfly, which previously lacked antennae, as a "string" to attract to itself its other wing that fell parallel to it.

However, this little wrinkle does not go away by itself. Consigo will always carry that pair of dots that form the corner of Luz's lips. All in all, the butterfly is complete and ready to survive.

Since Luz is banging her head against the ice and Alexis receives blow after blow when she tries to get closer to make her react; the butterfly seeks to get out of her head so as not to drown.

This is impossible because the butterfly must be the first living thing in the impossible dream. It has always been the human being who dreams, not the fantasy that dreams.

But is there anything impossible, yet earthly, for a god like Lucifer or the wind?

What I do know is that now that neurons and convolutions are fluttering; my red tongues of fire have no choice but to join the cause. I must join, not because I am practically an abstract being (as all human fantasies are born); I owe it to the souls of my little ratites because since I do not listen to them I have tried to ignore the possibility that every adolescent imbroglio the souls of my little ratites have suffered the worst consequences.

I no longer possess even the control of the red shadows of the tongues of flame. Now the brains are designing a labyrinth. I have only the comfort of the outside air.

The latter is what the butterfly wants to achieve, but to a greater extent. This butterfly wants to go entirely outside. And if Luz has made these wrinkles, it is partly because she wanted to highlight on herself that destructive presentiment. She longed for him to identify that presentiment and say it out loud to her. She wanted Alexis to notice that she had an aged childish voice. She wanted him to rejuvenate her. That he would decipher the language of her soul: her facial expressions.

But the fear in both of them slowed down the actions and unleashed a passion that burst like a wave inside themselves. What they did not know is that when there is an imminent danger, like a tsunami for example, the shadows are the first to run away; but not alone.

If his soul did not obtain the desired youth through him, he would seek it within his mind. She would look for a being that radiates innocence, the most important characteristic of a young soul, whatever its nature. That being would be brought by the red shadows.

Red is action and intensity for a reason, isn't it?

Maybe that's why her heartbeat has been summed up in one. Everything to be a copy of these shadows, because these are the ones that have managed to catch the only trace of innocence that exists inside Luz's mind: My little ratitas daughters.

The shadows have taken the souls of my little ratitas children away from my belly, from their heaven.

That is why she, after hitting her head against the frozen ground, begins to emanate blood from her skull.

So, from now on, rather than a storyteller, consider me public enemy number one of your illusions.

Now that I no longer have the souls of my little children inside my tummy that space that held me captive in the part of the imagination that held me captive has disappeared; while the purple of the sky has taken on a duller hue.

The impossible dream has begun with a half conscious half unconscious kiss, the beginning of the impossible dream:

THE REVOLUTION OF FANTASY HAS BEGUN.