Journey to the Center of MyselfMature

Nine hours I'd been sitting in that blasted car.  All I could do was eat, sleep, read, and brood (all while listening to music, of course).  I usually stuck with one particular playlist that contained the right combination of songs to fit my emotions.  Needless to say, I was pretty sick of the playlist by the time I got home.

You would think that a nine-hour car ride would be relaxing, right?  Wrong.  I felt like I'd been climbing a mountain.  Perhaps it was all the deep thinking and brooding?  Well, whatever the cause, I was exhausted.  And irritable.  I grabbed my things from the car and ran them upstairs to my room.  I closed the door swiftly and collapsed upon the bed.  I fell asleep immediately.




Someone was leaning over me.  I could hardly make the person out because of the brightness of the sun overhead.  That, and my eyes were very groggy.  When I finally focused on the person, I was caught by surprise.  I blinked, then jumped up in fright.  The person was a young man, who looked almost identical to me.

"What the hell?!  Who are you?"

The young man smiled, "You were out for a while.  Dreaming about someone, were we?"

I took a better look at him.  The young man was a mirror image of me, except there were some accentuated features about him.  He was less boney, and his facial features were more defined.  His skin was flawless, and his hair was slightly darker and more tame than mine.  Otherwise, I could've been looking in a mirror.  He wore a sustained look of confidence upon his face, and he never broke his concentration on me.

I stood uneasily, not knowing what to say.   "I don't remember dreaming.  Are you sure this isn't a dream?"

He looked about and considered his surroundings.  We were in the middle of a green, grassy meadow.  The sun was warm, but not harsh, and there was a faint, relaxing breeze.

He shrugged.  "It seems real enough to me.  Why don't you come for a walk?"

The young man turned and began walking away.  I followed cautiously, surveying my surroundings. 

"What is this place?  And who are you?"

He took a moment longer than necessary to reply.

"This is your Domain; you created this place.  I am your Self; I reside here most of the time, unless something changes."

I didn't follow him very well on either of these answers.  "What do you mean this is my 'Domain'?  Are you supposed to be me?"

"I am you.  Or, rather, your inner Self.  I am all that you think, all that you do, all that you feel, all that you perceive.  Your Domain is where you live, on the inside that is.  It is where your thoughts, emotions, actions, and perceptions meld themselves into one singular place.  Both I and your Domain represent you.  We change as you change, and we go where you go."

I was a bit dumbfounded.  "You look slightly different, though," I said with a hint of envy in my voice.

"I am the ideal image you hold of yourself.  I am all that you aspire to be, and all that you see yourself to be."  He said it all in a very factual tone, without bias.  I noticed how peaceful and perfect his gait was as we walked slowly through the meadow. 

"Where are we going?"

"There," he stated, pointing at a door that stood upright in the grass.


The End

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