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In the bible it says your body is a temple.

In this, my temple, my holiest of altars, there is extastic dancing. Trances, motion turned to meditation, the undeniably sacred movements done without thought, without conscious will. In this, my sacred space, there is rejoicing. No religion, no set forms of worship, no ecclesiastic writings. Only this, the spiritually powerful act of existing, only this unending perfect moment. I deny the thought of anything existing beyond what I see as being Me. The rest of the universe is a dream, phantastic figments of my imagination, unreal and unimportant. All that Is, is Me.

I live.

It is far easier to drown in this, sensation overload, my cravings spilling outward and contacting, connecting, carelessly reaching for the thousand other souls I in some way claim... can you feel me, in this perfect morning? Are you dreaming of me, your unconscious thoughts full of my presence? Do you know that I do this, spend these waking hours when the sun is just beginning to scorch the California sky lost in thought, thinking of you, stretching, trying so desperately to touch you...

...I slept, last night, when the computer crashed and was refusing to let me back on. Slept solid, slept sound, hours of dreamless sleep followed by a few fragmented thoughts. A Place, one I visit often in both daydreams and in slumber. You were there, walking silent by my side as I paced the passageways, feet walking the same halls and stairs I have followed countless times before. I could draw this Place, describe it easily, it is... home, perhaps. My true Home, the hallowed place I have crafted over years of dreamwalking, the place I try to bring you to when we talk. I wandered there and thought of you, watched you.

I've a letter to help write today. Should have done it last night, but I was unconscious, lost in dreams. Amazing that one simple thing can be so intense, affect you in so many ways. I'll help write it, help you craft something both honest and manipulative. It's only fair, as I do take some credit for the fact that you are caught in this tangle of emotion once again.

I treasure you because you understand and accept that I do not need to be physically present to affect things... or people. I treasure you because you have the same knack, your Self extending far beyond the boundaries of your body. I treasure you because the things that most people would consider impossible, you believe.

Yes, it's easier to drown in this, to let what should not be real become All There Is. Easier than staying sober enough, focused enough, to keep control of where my mind wanders. I wish I could dissolve, stay tranced and dreamstruck for hours on end...

...but today, that is not an option.

Still, for what little time I do have, I rejoice.

A common theme: music as a mistress, a lover, an owner. This morning, I surrender to sound... the only thing I would ever give myself to completely. And you wake, speak... connection, your words spilled onto a page instead of into my ears as they so often are. I wish that I had the phrases needed to give you comfort... as I take a considerable amount of it from reading what you manage to put into words, even as vague, as questioning, as those words are today. That you ask at all, that you have the strength to query, to search for truth, is enough.

Let me be your music today. Let me give you a temple to worship at, let me offer what answers I have, let me be here for you.

Let me be here for you, here to listen, here to help, here to simply accept you and grant you what comfort I can.

Let me give you what you so often give to me.

Let me be your strength.