The Spiral Mirror: Volume I - Beneath Breathable Water

By Akemahs

What can be said about The Spiral Mirror that you dont already know? Answering that question could prove to be difficult since you already know everything there is to know... By that I mean you are the spiral mirror, as am I. Each of our lives is an interwoven, interdependent, double helix reflecting back at one another.
Existing beneath breathable water, with its distorted images, gazing into this constantly changing, shape shifting apparatus known as life, looking deeply into ourselves and our experiences, only begins the journey of self discovery, a journey that cannot be contained in one lifetime, much less this one book. Ive come slightly beyond the beginning of my journey, and am now sharing that beginning with you.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Jan 17, 2006
• ISBN: 9781477167670

Akemahs

As a writer, poet, artist, lover of creativity and life, Akemahs cannot pinpoint exactly when or how she discovered her love of poetry. However, it was during her turbulent and rebellious teenage years that she began using poetry as an outlet for her anxiety, frustration, pain and inner most desires. She was introvert, partially because she didnt fully understand her own feelings and mostly because she believed no one within her immediate environment was willing to listen or able to understand her. She began to look inward for sanction and found her voice. The blank page became her unbiased readily available ear, her shoulder to cry on, and her confidant.

Book preview

Blowing Bubbles

Bahhiyah is a highly unusual girl; at least, she had always thought so. Even as child she felt out of place, as if she didn’t quite fit in with her own family. She saw things in ways that not everyone else could or was willing to see. Time and time again, things she said were simply ignored or dismissed. Often she was told that she simply didn’t know what she was talking about, that she thought too much, and looked too deeply into things. After awhile, Bahhiyah just stopped sharing because she despised being ignored, or worse, not being taken seriously. She was unwilling and afraid to ever say what she really thought and or felt for fear that no one would understand or truly care. With no one to talk to or who would even bother really listening to her; she began to spend most of her time alone. Eventually, there came a time where she dealt with almost everything on her own. She developed her own special coping mechanisms. Her favorite things to do were to write in her journal, sit silently in the darkness of her bedroom watching the shadows change shape on the walls, and lie on her back atop the roof of her house and blow bubbles toward the night sky during a full moon.

One night Bahhiyah was feeling extraordinarily restless. After tossing and turning for what seemed like hours, she lay in her bed and stared blankly at the dark center of her bedroom ceiling. The longer she stared the closer the ceiling seemed to get, until it was right on top of her. My life feels so small. she thought. She looked around, and noticed the four walls had some how moved in closer and were moving closer still. A sudden urge came over her, but instead of reaching for the tissues, which she kept in abundant supply, she reached for her journal.

Feeling trapped by her surroundings, Bahhiyah decided to escape outside, which was fitting since the moon was once again full. She grabbed her half empty container of bubbles and headed for the rooftop.

Blowing bubbles made her happy and sad at the same time.