The realm in which I talk about is a magical realm. An island of utmost grace, with colours so lush and vibrant, and so instrinsically connected with the earth that life shoots out from the soil with no extaneous activity. Flowers fall from the sky gently swaying while they emit the sweetest fragrance and triggers the subtle sensibilities of tropical life. The ocean so rich with the wonders of nature, surrounds this island and connects the land with all the waters of the world. To breathe this air, to feel it's goodness, is to breathe life itself which nourishes my inert instincts and awakens the dormant recesses of my mind.
He was wild, let loose on the glimmering hot sands of wide empty beaches. He swam with the waves, succumbing to the eternal force of deep waters. He ran through thick jungles whose moisture seeped within his pores and intermingled with the sweat that came out of them. He grabbed onto trees and hugged them, and let the textured bark touch every fold of his body. He was a lunatic. He embraced the moon with passionate might and let her juices trickle down his insides to quench his thirst with the nectar of the gods. He slept of bare rocks, exploring their crevasses and the inhabitants that lived within them, absorbing the heat on which he lay, till it throbbed in his veins and danced a silent dance of hidden ecstacy.