WAYLAND CYBERSMITH (WAYCYBER) - STRIP

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by WaylandCybersmith

I pull off the things, the possessions that cling to me.

I let go of designer labels and corporate logos, letting them slide to the floor, I step away. 

Fashion and culture are next. I throw them across the room.

Then comes education, status and image.

Nationality, race and gender are harder to release, but they go as well.

I take a breath, fearing the next stage, and how I will be exposed.

I remove what I took for strength, knowledge, experience, wisdom, opinions, plans and ambitions. They seemed like jewels, but now they look like lumps of ash.

Finally, all I am left with is me. My central being. My true person.

I raise my head and see my shadow stretching into the distance. It is as if it draws me, calls to me. It knows what I am about to do.

I turn, hardly bearing to open my eyes to see the brightness that cast the shadow.

My eyes are open and the light, though blazing like many suns, does not hurt me.

I feel the warmth. My skin is suddenly covered with a fragrant oil, that bursts into flame.

I burn. I burn. But, there is no pain. My skin chars and falls off, revealing another skin, like diamond.

I am cleansed. purified. The light shines through me and I glow.

I turn, and my shadow is gone. Instead, a myriad of colours, most without name, flow and flash through me.

© WaylandCybersmith 2011

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