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S.A.Quaque - Simulation story of today by Vaibhavi Pandit.

Once upon a time or should I say whenever upon the times, lived a wise little girl whose mind was a fantasy playground and whose words made her stand out among the simple, hardy and untruthful folks around her. Do you want to hear her tell you her story of disillusionment? If yes, continue reading.

A mystical experience.
A mystic

Tiny tottering butterflies skitter on a blue giant, of whose view is my flowing vision.

Been more than one in numbering sky's white clouds, immersed in delectable talk with them.

Acute venture takes me into forest's gully, bulbs of sugar pocket raindrops hang burly.

So anew the venture seems full of green adventure, gold coins chime in a distance eagerly.

A child playing with butterflies in a forest.
Child's world

An innocent child venturing into deep forests out of need.
A lost part of self

Yes it seems rosy and fantastical now but what do you think she found out when she ventured into deep forests? Do you think it was what she expected? An abundance of treasure? Or was it just a piece of herself that she would leave behind in the future? Read on.

When I hear them, I shout, shout to the fullest amidst the folds of tattered realities.

When I hear them, The rowboat goes roundabout the merry lines surrounding commonalities.

Don't stay low, don't be closed as the winds just flow and the clouds just glow with lighting blows

as the storm just grows, it's their ebbs and flows. They make seas glare with those

glimmery eyes at their darkest core, yes their deepest more

sincerest promises of everlasting prosper enlivenment.

Digital embossed letters

Minimally endorsed feathers

Typical and lost endeavors

Physically cost wherevers.

A ship of mystical waters.

Our heroine longs for a reunion of sorts but with what she doesn't seem to know yet. It seems her surroundings determine her fate and she feels out of control, perhaps driven by destiny?

What is her fate?, she knows not yet.

And so her reunion is with the people and the paradigms around her she contemplates.

Maybe her reunion with her scattered parts will be a result of diving deep into the raging storm. Read ahead to find out.

An abstract representation of language.
Words are spells

Notice the sound that reverberates from anxiety? Don't you?

A simple note floats freely, remember that most don't make it. They let you

hone those simple skills unless you're belligerent delivering catastrophes

just to let them all know you're the hero dressed as a simple villain in dark alleys.

A witch casting a spell.
The confrontation

She wonders why her feet freeze up when she sees the storm nearing yet at the same time is blindingly attracted to it's scary depths, finding her curiosity peeking.

She meets her opposite, her mind ripping into two. She greets her, "Hello. Who are you? Why are you causing chaos in a peaceful place of mine? Do you hear me? Do you know me?"

Notice the words carved on every side street of your conscience? Do you?

When your mouth dries up, no words linger on them. You have to

work just to win lotteries, your batteries all fired up entirely made of calcium

not cadmium, Remember! Circulate it everywhere.

Inner glow and Substantiam

in the mud and in the air.

prove it! words don't matter,

then why in the heaven are you still here?

Ideally present mirrors

Past half and six more cooling hours

I spell them now, it's now or never

Soulfully ordered self empower

A witch entering her gothic home.
The interaction between light and dark

At once the earth grumbles and emerges her counterpart who looks exactly the same except for her dark, deep eyes.

She doesn't open her mouth once but speaks with great conviction.

"I know you, I've seen you play with the butterflies and I've seen your many tries to hide. I've felt your angst and your misery, only thing left is for you to see me. There's no escape this time you see, I come as the raging winds. I come to remind you of your magic. I'm like the dark sees so you shall hear me."

An illustration of a swamp in a forest.
Dark places are the places of birth

Just a little touch, an anecdote, those flying birds and little bees.

I wasn't here and always close, just a single touch of divinity.

Just a little look is an antidote, white clouds running as a fleet.

I'm never here yet always close, a singing song of this destiny.

A girl following an orb of golden light.
Calm after the storm

Without warning the storms halt as our protagonist cries rivers. All along her destiny was in her and her touch could resolve her fears. All around her were sacred mirrors showing her true form in varied colors.

I'm running deep, I'm growing wild,

I'm where I'm needed, I'm of the skies.

I'm in the sand and in the waters,

also the flowing winds catching the fires.

A lady entering a time travel machine.
Anytime, Anywhere

So now she knew she could be anywhere. Just at an arm's length or a million miles away.

Now she knew she could be anything.

She could stand still yet move like the seas.

And by now you would've understood what I mean.

I speak of time beyond time.

Maybe by now you can see what I see.

I speak of words with no space and paradigm.

An illustration of microbial environment.
Beyond space and time.

Sine anno - without time

Quaque - without place

Divine beings as earthly forms, I celebrate your existence.

- Vaibhavi Pandit

A gothic art poster.
Art poster designed by @paravakeon (Instagram)

Hi I'm Vaibhavi Pandit. I write, make art and music to put it simply. This particular piece of writing is a poetic storytelling of spiritual/human experiences that we're going through as a collective in the current timeline/reality. If you connect with it or any of my art, feel free to express your thoughts and feelings.

Check out my art and music and support as per your wish. So long.

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