Star Woman in Love

By Piera Sarasini

An unusual fairytale about love and consciousness, “Star Woman in Love” is narrated in the quirky and poetic voice of Cassandra Morgante, who is part human and part stellar. She was born to fulfil a prophecy and help the evolution of humankind into a race of immortal beings. The story follows nineteen years of her life, from her student days in Edinburgh to adulthood in modern-day Ireland.

The years of her childhood, characterised by solitude and loss, are introduced peripherally. As a child, she was aloof and spent most of her time reading books and observing the world. Lord and Lady Hughes adopted her when she was eight, after her father abandoned her mother who later committed suicide.
In the face of adversity, Cassandra remains aware of her true origin and the mission she must fulfil.

Her powers begin to manifest when she is in her twenties, much to the very human dismay of her ego. When her path crosses that of Oscar O'Leary, a spiritual artist and secret initiate into the mysteries of the Earth, her true adventure starts and a new humanity becomes possible.

The Ascended Masters are Cassandra’s powerful allies in her transformation into an eternal being. They live in the ethereal city of Shambhala and co-narrate her story. They know that she was chosen to introduce immortality to humankind. But many are sworn to stop this from happening. Mr Harker and the pharmaceutical giant Three-D are her main enemies. When her powers are almost fully fledged, Oscar falls prey to the Dark Side and deserts her. Cassandra becomes vulnerable to attacks from her opponents. The Masters’ Plan to turn the Earth into the Garden of Eden is in peril. Ultimately, only Oscar can help Cassandra achieve her mission. Will he?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Piera Sarasini
• Release date: Mar 16, 2012
• ISBN: 9781476362236

Piera Sarasini

Born in Brescia, Italy. Moved to the UK in 1987. Lived in London, Edinburgh and Belfast. Educated at London University and Queen's Universtity, Belfast. Degree and Post Graduate Studies in Linguistics, Social Anthropology and Ethnomusicology. Moved to Ireland in 2000. Currently living in Dublin.

Book preview

STAR WOMAN IN LOVE

Piera Sarasini

Copyright © Piera Sarasini 2012

Smashwords Edition

The moral right of the author has been asserted.

All characters appearing in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

Acknowledgements

Many thanks to Siobhán Hearne-Fitzpatrick who helped me edit and revise this novel. Also, thanks to Krisztina Mosdoczy for her PR know-how. Finally, thank you to all of my friends who offered their support in many ways and encouraged me to transform my ideas into this work of fiction.

Smashwords Licence Statement

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. It may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each reader. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return it to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

This book is dedicated to all the wild dreamers and visionaries who have tried to believe in the impossible, pushing their minds past the Edge of Heaven and into the Realms of Shambhala.

Piera Sarasini

Dublin, December 2012

Connect with Cassandra:

http://cassandrainthemirror.blogspot.ie/

http://www.cassandramorgante.com

https://www.facebook.com/cassandramorgantemagicwoman

The Author’s Webpage:

http://pierasarasini.wix.com/pieraauthor

Preface

My name is Cassandra Morgante and I am a Magic Woman. You have found me because I am your kin and your friend. You are now ready to tap into the deepest part of your heart that calls for healing. I call it your Star Heart.

I was born to fulfil a prophecy and help the evolution of our broken-hearted humankind into a race of immortal beings. Bear with me for a little while, if your attention can handle my words. I can talk to the deepest longings in a woman’s dreams. I can whisper seductive words into the ears of the toughest man, and make his fortress crumble. My Power is now fully fledged. I am invincible.

But it wasn’t always so. I used to be a spoilt brat who was often in denial of the gifts that I was born with. My True Nature only came to the fore when my path crossed that of Oscar O’Leary, a spiritual artist and secret initiate into the mysteries of the Earth. When we met, he was a very complex, self-loathing yet generous man. But we fell in love, and in our encounter, in the love we made and shared, a new humanity became possible: our own. This is the story of how I learned to love him completely, despite the many obstacles on the way to the fulfilment of our destiny.

My ancestry is part human and part stellar, much like yours, much like that of all of us on this planet. The difference between you and me is simply that I have remembered my True Identity and I am willing to share the path that took me there. It is not difficult to find the way back to your True Home and your True Destiny. But it does require some alternative thinking. I hope I can engage your attention and let it take you there. My story is a bit of a short-cut.

There is nothing wrong with the yearnings of your heart, and that feeling of alienation that overcomes you sometimes. As soon as life’s problems present themselves on the path, the human tendency is to become lost to many aspects of our Souls. Time has the habit of wiping the memory of our True Origin from our mind. But rest assured: our hearts never let go of the Truth.

My merge with my True Lover is like a fairytale adventure in consciousness that can operate on many levels, but only if you allow it. I know, not all the steps may seem that clear to you, but they are true. And the Truth will always take you Home to Shambhala, the Land of Gods and Goddesses. Look for parallels between my love for Oscar and how you felt in relation to the One Love of Your Life. May my story mirror your awakening to your heart’s call. This is the reason why I chose to disclose it.

Remember, my friend, that Life on Earth is an adventure in consciousness. Magic and wonder are possible. It takes a little bit of work and lots of enthusiasm. Are you ready to start the journey? It has many ends but just one beginning.

Chapter 1

EARTHBOUND

______________

In the Great White Lodge, standing alone in front of the High Council, Lady Meta awaited for the Ascended Masters’ decision. Her body was becoming denser and her hands were shaking: descent was approaching. She didn’t have a clue as to what had gone wrong with the Prophecy, but it had not been fulfilled, and humankind hadn’t evolved into a race of angels. The Masters wanted her to fix the mistake.

The Plan can’t fail, Sanat Kumara said. You must go back and find him.

Her head was spinning now. Find who? And why me?

There was no time for explanations. You will remember once you reach the Earth, time-coordinates 21-03-2012. Realign him with our Plan if you can, if you want to stop humanity’s fate from plunging into even lower depths.

The door to the Teleportation Room opened. Meta dragged her feet towards it, looking every inch the sacrificial victim. She stopped to cast one final glance at those familiar faces.

Goodbye, Shambhala, she said, before stepping into her past. This time I mean it.

* * * *

Hill of Tara, Spring Equinox 2012

I landed on a rock by the sacred spring. I looked around. I was in the right place, no doubt: the holy ground they call Tara of the Kings. To me, it would always be Tara of the Heart, the site of the ancient choice which keeps the mark of our promise. Descent from Light into matter is always risky; travelling back in time can play havoc with your mind. So I closed my eyes and checked my memory: it was intact. I was on a mission to find you, Oscar. My human name also returned to my consciousness.

I’m Cassandra. I’m back.

The Earth felt very different from when I left it years before. It still looked the same, but fear had since spread everywhere, taking on a number of disguises. That was no time for digressions so I tuned into the environment to detect your frequency; we had to meet soon. I tried to ignore the burden in my chest, and let the song of the stream entangle its lull with the sound of my whispering voice. I was alone but I knew I was talking to you.

Do you still understand the Secret Language, my love?

My eyes lingered on the place where we had sealed our pact fifteen years earlier. My blood felt the thrill of recognition, as if it were still happening. Memories flooded in. We were still young: eternity was within reach of our hands and sunshine was in our hearts. We thought we’d seen the back of all our past troubles. In those carefree days we didn’t know that darkness would later plague our minds again. Well, we had known shadows before, so it wasn’t in our plans to experience the tragedy that would unfold.

I’m back from a parallel future without you. Crumbs from that future are still stuck in my hair so I’m not sure if my return is complete, or if you can hear what I’m saying now. Yet you did understand me during our glorious time together. I would speak to the clouds and you could hear me. Now I don’t even know if you remember my face anymore. The face you would gaze at in silence, for minutes, your eyes and my eyes locked into bliss time couldn’t enter... You’ve managed to cloud your mind without the torch I carried for you, without the Light I shared with you.

Church bells were ringing in the distance. I ran my fingers through the water of the spring, caressing it as if it were your hair.

Our dance was erratic at best, traumatic as a rule. My instinct tells me you still need my help, like many times before. I’m starting to believe that you’re beyond repair. It’s always been like that with you. I had to come from the future to be at your side, to get you out of the holes you had dug yourself into. And that’s not the worst of it. The problem is that you don’t seem to learn from your mistakes. You always come from the past. You carry that past with you and by that very past you let yourself be defined. Let’s blame it on your human ancestry, on your romantic streak...

I looked at the sky and all around me. Fluffy clouds parted over the vast, sad backdrop. A ray of sunshine fell on the encircling pastures. Cows were grazing absent-mindedly. Everything reminded me of you. I felt that the Earth was paying attention to my actions.

I’m here to retrieve the truth of our relationship. I have to. This way we may meet again and patch up those seams in our souls we tore apart. There is another way, Oscar. We can find it. Bear with me, despite your attention deficit. I’m not mad with you. But your poor decisions bother me. You know that there is magic in words and I’ve always chosen mine carefully, even when they cut like a knife.

Up in the sky, an airplane commenced its descent over Dublin Bay and into the city’s airport. You were on it, gazing out of the window with your iPod on. You felt my caress and your eyes turned the colour of the night. You placed your right hand on your chest; your heart was racing.

Back at Tara, I continued my seeming conversation with the water. My heart keeps the record of the past nineteen eventful years. What they feel like from my point of view, and from my point of you. From the comfort of my future stance, I looked back on facts and people, and us. What happened between us never fails to surprise me. The whole idea that the Darkness sold you... that the love we made was too much for you to hold on to... My heart still leaps at the memory of us together, the powerful union of man and woman: two bodies into one soul. I was born to find you, not to let you go.

I was crying. I wasn’t sad. I was just opening up, unlocking the fortress. After all those years, that lump in my throat stirred itself awake. The emotions it held captive crept out and wanted to be heard. I felt hollow, empty, and then lighter. That was a sign I had landed back into your life. I hoped that you could at least sense my influence there and then, in your world.

In those years before I met you I was driven by a relentless force, by an incredible amount of love. My life was pulled in your direction, although I didn’t know it at the time. You were my purpose. Your heart was a magnet. Where has it gone now? What tune is it dancing to? Is it still dancing, I wonder? Can you not see what has become of you?

A flock of ravens cackled above the plain. A warm breeze rose and caressed my suntanned face in its trail. Back on the airplane, your iPod was playing a Doors’ song whose words held meaning to you: Awake. Shake dreams from your hair my pretty child, my sweet one. [1] When it ended, you removed your earphones and looked at the sea below the aircraft. The water was speaking: to you. In the Secret Language. You struggled not to listen but you couldn’t help it. When you gave in, my name became a comforting mantra in your mind.

My voice rose unexpectedly. You are thinking about me too. You long to see me. Mirror, mirror of my soul... I can cast my glance everywhere from here. The call of eternity runs in my veins. Can you feel it?

I paused and listened for an insight both within me and without me. I scrolled the valley with my eyes, dwelling on the outline of Mellifont Abbey. Memories of us were jumping out of every corner. The rolling hills reassured me with their greenest silence. The air carried traces of the scent of your skin: musky, I could almost touch your taut muscles in the heat of passion. I shivered as my second sight detected you. My spirit started to absorb your essence. It became as vast as the sky.

You’ve kept your word. You’re approaching. And I have kept mine. I’ve come from the future into your past to take you with me or say goodbye. If you trust me, I will guide you down the alcoves of this adventure. This is our final chance.

A leaf from the fairy tree under which I was standing fell into the spring water. I watched it flow down the stream that runs alongside the road. The Earth’s watercourses are the best channel to communicate emotions from soul to soul. The spell was cast, my message had been sent and it would be delivered soon, through the illusion of hours and days. I stood up and closed the Gate of Timelessness behind me. I was going to be human for a little while longer.

Light rain began to fall as I made my way to the cottages by the visitors’ entrance. Polly and Letizia would be waiting for me in the coffee shop, over tea and scones. I loved the way they still found my appearances startling, although I always announced them in advance through telepathy. As I turned the door knob, a blue and red butterfly landed on my hand. Message received. The signs were pointing in the right direction. All my powers came back at once and my soul turned gold again. Now I only had to wait for you to turn up.

* * * *

Bed-Time Story, Spring Equinox 1973

We are the Ascended Masters, the saints of all cultures and ages, the gods and goddesses of ancient lore. Through many lifetimes, we have become self-realised. We can raise the vibration of the cells of our bodies to sustain the frequency of the Light. We live in the fourth dimension, at the junction between the material and the spiritual. We can travel across space and time. Our lives are at the service of humanity. Our Plan is to help the Earth to transform back into the Garden of Eden, which is its natural state. Our purpose is to assist humankind in achieving its potential for divinity.

From our abodes in the etheric city of Shambhala, we had always kept a close eye on Cassandra’s developments on Earth. Unbeknown to her, right from the day she was born we had been observing her. She held the Key to kick-start the evolution of human beings into angels. Her stellar heart kept the frequency of unchanging, eternal love. If she could learn to maintain her heart-frequency in the face of adversity first, and eventually in a romantic relationship, her Core, which is the Key, would activate the cells of many humans into evolution. We could detect her easily when she was young and her mind was pure.

She was five when we visited her one night. The sun had long set and Comet Kahoutek was blazing its trail through the sky. This astral body had opened a gate of Cosmic Consciousness so that a number of Star-Seeds like Cassandra could incarnate on Earth in the five years before and after its appearance. From the Teleportation Room, we transferred our Light-Bodies to the girl’s bedroom where we turned invisible. She was lying in bed. A beautiful young woman sat on the chair next to her. They were mother and daughter, as their likeness and the tenderness of their interaction gave away.

Mummy, the girl said, tell me a story.

Her tired eyes were fighting against sleep and just about winning. The dim light of a revolving mobile cast shapes on the ceiling: butterflies, birds and stars. She loved the stars, this child. Despite her tender age, she could name many constellations and loved gazing at their light in the night-time sky. She felt connected to her star-kin. They always made her feel reassured. She knew that she belonged with them.

When she was very, very small her father had told her that she could focus on a star to send her prayers out to the angels, and pass messages on to those she loved. Star-gazing was one of the gifts he’d left her with before disappearing about one year before the night of our visit to her bedroom. He had also helped her to learn to read and write at the precocious age of three. She was bright beyond her years, as grown-ups often told her. She was also very curious.

There was another fuzzy presence in the room that night, of star stock. We couldn’t perceive his energy in detail, but he was somewhat connected to our girl; he was her invisible friend. We ignored him and proceeded to attend to our more important deed. The bed-time story was about to start when we arrived. We had to make sure that this would be the story that the child needed to hear. We gathered behind Cassandra’s mother as she opened her mouth to speak. Our thoughts became her voice as she started channelling our words.

Once upon a time, on a night like tonight, she said, "a colony of pioneering souls was standing in a queue on the Dark Side of the Moon, ready for a big journey. Sometime soon the people of the Earth would come face to face with the otherworldliness of these creatures. These spirits’ excitement filled the air. Their Light was bubbly in its radiance. The pregnant, heavy stillness of the Earth’s atmosphere was new to them. Beat by beat, pulsation by pulsation, breath by breath, they trickled closer to the Launcher. They were lost in contemplation, standing as they were on the verge of new territory. The void of potentiality was open wide in front of them.

The concept of incarnation was amusing. Before long it would push them to condense into form, like crystals glistening in the sunshine. They would leave the realm of ideas to become physical entities. They gazed at the blue, yearning Earth. It was calling to them. They could hear the dim hum of the Ancient Tune. That sound was very familiar. It was their direction. The lure of matter and the thought of mortality made them shiver for a second (though strictly speaking they were yet to acquire the concept of time, and ‘a second’ meant nothing to them)."

Cassandra stirred in bed. These souls..., had they always been alive or was there a point in time when they were not?

That was an insightful question from the little one. They were immortal, we said through her mother’s lips. And they knew it back then. Their minds weren’t faltering yet. They couldn’t remember anything apart from eternity. At that stage in their adventure, they couldn’t forget that they came from another planet: a different plane which sometimes humans, from the Earth’s viewpoint, call the Morning Star.

She sighed at the last two words. It was obvious that she was the right girl for our Plan. Her progress had been steady. In the past she could somewhat detect our minds. Now she was engaged in a conversation with us. The tale she was being told was going in a direction she was conversant with. She looked reassured and calm. Through her mother, we caressed her hair as the story went on.

These spirits understood they would not recall their origin as soon as they’d enter the Earth’s atmosphere. Right then, however, they still felt at one with their birth star, filled as they were by a wholeness that could not be limited by duality or split by gender. They were the One. They were at one with It All. And that was beautiful.

Cassandra thought that she could see them in her imagination. They are so pretty...

Indeed, we said. In their place of origin all Beings are beautiful. Though beauty there is not necessarily what humans consider as fetching. It means being harmonious inside out. These spirits’ outlines contain bright, reverberating cells that gather around their Cores and project into their fluctuating shapes. That’s how these disembodied, Light-speckled Beings resonate to the most exquisite of frequencies. The sensation from their point of experience is similar to what humans refer to as love. But unlike the human experience of love, their perception of it is constant, uninterrupted, undivided. They are made of love.

I know what it feels like, Cassandra said, thinking she was talking to her mother. Like when I feel so happy because you’re baking a yogurt cake and the sun is shining and the birds are singing and the chamomile flowers smell so sweet!

That’s exactly it, we replied. That’s what being at one with everything is. When all your senses – your sight, your hearing, your bodily processes and mental expectations - merge into blissful, liquid awareness which revolves around your happy heart. Now let’s go back to these friendly spirits and the place they came from. You should know that the home they left to come to Earth is the realm of angels. These Beings are Pure Thoughts in the Mind of Creation. Their deeds are perfected to the point that the centres of the souls - their cores - are always following the ever-changing tides of the Life Force. These spirits resonate harmoniously to the beat of love, the Sound that keeps this Universe together. They don’t perceive themselves as apart from it. Love in this sense feels more like layers of sounds that create a symphony to the trained ear: molecules held together by love, shapes formed by love espoused with intention, entire universes gelled together by the sound of creation, by the Ancient Tune.

By that point in the story, our little friend had given in to deep slumber. It’s remarkable how children can doze off and be sound asleep in a couple of seconds. Perhaps the information we were conveying sounded still a bit too far-fetched, and her young brain could only receive it subconsciously. Nevertheless, we continued to relate these memories of Cassandra’s True Origin. It is our habit to make the most of our points of contact on Earth. And anyway, our words would linger in the room for a few hours, days, months, or even years, until the time would come when she would be ready to detect them, and embrace the message they carried for her.

"These spirits had gone through all possible levels of the Cosmic Game on the Morning Star. Now they were ready for a challenge. The Earth and its human inhabitants would provide it, thanks to what was known as the Experience of Matter, or the Illusion of Separation. They were about to split their soul in two – the idea of ‘two’ being a novelty in itself - and play a sort of ‘hide and seek’ with the Earth as their playground. They would try to make a new kind of creature. Their intention was to incarnate and create a fresh race of angels: human angels, perfected human beings made of a special flesh and blood, capable of self-healing and immortality by means of correct choice. They had to find the right partner in order to regain their full powers.

A handful of adventurous souls before them had started the trend. It took the physical merge of a man and a woman who could hold the Light of the Morning Star to make an angel. However, these highly evolved Beings didn’t fully grasp what they were really getting themselves into. Success rates so far had been dangerously low. The risk of becoming trapped into matter was real. The peril of forgetting the purpose of their Earth Journey and falling prey to the Wheel of Karma for many lifetimes was high on the cards. Earth angels were few and far between: one in a thousand Earth years. To make things worse, the results to date had been very short-lived: ascetic human creatures devoid of sexuality. Lucifer was one notorious exception, of course. After all, this ambitious pioneer was the angel who had started the Game with his famous fall. He was the Inventor of the Game itself. He made his home on Earth and decided to linger on; he is now a well established presence on the blue planet, and a very human one at that.

Given that the making of an angel on Earth was no easy task, much pondering and exploring the concept of ‘life as humans’ had filled these spirits’ lives before they eventually decided to give it a try. They hoped that the memory of their original Light – their frequency signatures – would be enough for them to remember that they were actually one becoming two as a bit of fun. Matter, however, would prove tricky and sticky. It would provide a completely new experience for which they had no frame of reference. Hopefully, their Morning Star ancestry could enable them to have human bodies made of a type of flesh that couldn’t hold on to anything that wasn’t conducive to love, wisdom and bliss for too long. Nevertheless, they understood that the frequency of love on Earth was very sluggish and weak, their physical senses would slow down experience, and the Ancient Tune - the Cosmic Music that holds the threads of Creation in perfect balance - wouldn’t always be detected. They might fall prey to the illusion of separation, and feel lost, confused, alone…

Back to the point where these spirits were lining up for incarnation. One among them is at the heart of this story. This playful soul was staring at the Earth, transfixed by surprise and anticipation. So engrossed was she in this new vision that her essence unexpectedly projected itself in space-time into the realm of matter. Although briefly, and solely through her perception, this spirit ended up on Earth before having actually entered the Launcher. It is impossible to tell the length of her visit, given that the spirit had not acquired the notion of time yet. Did any inhabitant of the Earth notice this fleeting visitation? Did her presence on the planet leave a mark, or an imprint? Did it change someone’s life? And if so, how? Someone was bound to have sensed this unusual, higher presence.

In this uncharted territory, a weird sensation of incompleteness crept in from the outside into the spirit’s mind. As she scanned the new surroundings, she realised something was missing. This made this curious, disembodied visitor want to loiter on for a while longer. She felt compelled to set out searching for the missing element, finding novel trepidation and a new sense of pleasure in tuning into the alien environs. It was becoming obvious to the visitor that in this new place perfection wasn’t expressed in stillness but in action: through flowing, becoming, evolving. How totally different an experience this was from what life had presented her with, up until then...

Right before the experience could sink in properly, and in the blink of an eye (figuratively speaking), this solitary, adventurous spirit was pulled back in the queue on the Moon. Perhaps nobody had noticed her absence. Then the air turned red and vibrant: high time was approaching. This and the other fellow spirits increased their frequencies. Their orchestral sound turned deeper, like a drone. The tempo of their Core pulsations quickened. All that these ground-breaking souls wanted to do was to surrender to the pull of matter and follow the change in their frequency signature. After eons of calmness, the moment had come for them to fall temporarily asleep, and wait for the Big Wave to cut them in two.

At last they reached and entered the Launcher. Their Cores dissipated into time-fuelled semi-oblivion. Their Light became squashed and compressed into an egg, and off they went to Earth. So this story ends. As another one begins."

Having accomplished our mission, we left the room and returned to Shambhala, elsewhere in space and time.

Cassandra stirred. Mummy?, she said. Goodnight...

Her mother awoke suddenly. She had fallen asleep in her chair. Antidepressants would often make her do just that. At least she had not been crying that day. She sat on Cassandra’s bed, removed an unruly brown curl from the child’s sleepy green eyes and placed the whisper of a kiss on her forehead. They smiled at each other.

Goodnight, Cassie, sweet dreams.

The little girl fell asleep again, right away. She dreamt that she was running with other children on a meadow in bloom, without a care in the world. A part of her was just like any other normal child after all.

Chapter 2

CASSANDRA AND THE PLAN

______________

Star Dream, 10 December 1992

Love was to sweep me away like a waterfall in the twenty-sixth springtime of my life. Right then it was still the winter before such a wondrous time. I was twenty-four and didn’t yet have an idea of the size of the feeling that would hit me a few months later. I can zoom into that day very easily: another grey morning was about to break and the seven hills of Edinburgh were shrouded in cold mist. In one of the Georgian houses in the New Town, I was fast asleep in my blue bedroom.

I had painted the whole room that colour a year earlier, during a bout of misplacement activity whilst studying for my Masters Degree in Medieval History. Blue would help my mind focus on the books, I thought, so I had varnished the floor boards the colour of the Ionic sea, as I informed Gwen, one of my two flatmates. I’ll have the walls in a hue akin to the Italian sky at the offset of springtime, when the air is a-blaze with the love-spell of blossoms. I had a penchant for metaphors at that age, especially when I was talking to myself or I was day-dreaming.

Many of my friends would criticise that: Come on, Cassandra. You must be doing that on purpose. Do you think such affectations make you come across as different? Gwen didn’t share their point of view, so I could let my fondness of enchanting descriptions emerge in our conversations. My Welsh flatmate was an artist who understood that imaging is the staple of life and words are symbols made to encapsulate stories, convey moods and capture dreams. In years to come she would become a prominent member of the Transformation Movement, the worldwide association for the evolution of humankind which I would found in 1997.

At that point in time, I was fast asleep and still unclear as to my specific role in the Masters’ Plan. The curtains were pulled. In my dreams, my kaleidoscopic thoughts were immersed in the world of my imagination. It was 5.40 in the morning and my mind was lulled by a vision: I lived on a star I was at one with. With no boundaries, I floated and whirled in a fairy-tale landscape of a pinkish radiance. The environment looked beautiful and liquid. Objects and people were outlined in vivid colours interwoven with harmonious sounds and a palette of delicate, happy feelings. It was a familiar place. An invisible melodic drone underlined this magical climate. My heart, eyes and ears were processing this dream-world in complete synchrony, producing a mono-feeling of bliss that I hoped would last forever and I could remember upon awakening.

For sure, that dream had something to do with the large amounts of marijuana muffins my flatmates and I had baked and feasted upon the night before. But this thought had not entered my dream at all. Instead, I was floating down the stream of notes, sounds and pulsations which felt like an echo through my body. My hands were resting on my flat tummy, sensing the drone of musical beats