Brooklyn by Torchlight

A clear night, full moon above; but around me, a dark fog. Unable to see properly, I lit the Peruvian Torch. My eyes dilated under it's illumination, helped me to see. There was a miasma all around me, a mist as black as pitch. It was a soft field, comprised of externalized thoughts. I must be sick.

The Torch flamed higher and my perception grew brighter. The fog began to sparkle something crystalline. It was like being inside a giant kaleidoscope. As my eyes adjusted, I saw there was more to the sparkles; coming forth through the black, were beings of love and compassion. One being, beautiful and wondrous beyond any description laughed at me, it's mouth agape, pointing toward my mouth. I gripped my Peruvian Torch tightly, lurched forward a bit, then drew in as much breath as I could muster, inhaling much of the black, sparkling, fog.

Overwhelmed, my knees buckled and I fell hard unto them, yet felt no pain. There was only a rushing all over my insides. Countless negativities swirling in the fog beneath my skin. I felt like myself was turned inside out and spirits were scrubbing my sickness off of my innards with a steel brush. My body spasmed and contorted, shot forward and vomited up an expulsion, exorcising and cleansing the darkness within.

Tears flooded my eyes when I looked upon what came out of me. It was a black soot, a mound of carbon. I held the Torch close to it and wept and wept. Tears of love freely flowing. For I could see that even from all the sickness, all of the black carbon held the potential to transform into a most precious diamond.