3) Forget the dates. I guess I’ll just number these. I have no idea how much time is passing.

I stopped the last recording because I had to do something. I couldn’t sit there and try to reason through the situation in my head. I realized as I was writing, that if I was going to survive and get back home, I had to survive and that meant keeping myself alive.

I dare say, I think this was perhaps the bravest moment of my existence.

I braved the shimmering brillance. Survival 101 – drink lots of water. It was the next closest thing, so let’s see what I’m actually dealing with here in this place.

I was a little scared…ok, terrified. See, when I stood up, I realized that the ground I was standing on held the same shimmering movement of light. It was different in…er, “color”. But it shimmered all the same. I had no idea if I stepped forward if I would sink through it to some endless abyss. Ok, granted as soon as I thought that, I realized that I’d been sitting there all that while and hadn’t fallen into some hole. But it took me a second. I was not expecting the ground and “water” to look so similar.

So I took a step forward…and most pleasantly discovered it was indeed solid ground — this sweet, gentile firmness, not hard and callous like dirt or stone, but not too cushiony either. I guess it was kind of like walking on carpet (why do I remember carpet and I can’t remember that song?!?!…) Anyway, every step felt almost like I was being carried. It was…this I have no words for.

Suffice it to say, I arrived at the shore much sooner than I wanted — walking in this place held a strange draw to keep walking…

But I had arrived at my destination and had to fulfill my intentions.

I stood for a long while, not wanting now to move, or act, or do. Just to be in this brillance, this beautiful stance. At long last I awoke from my slumber and gazed out at this throbbing glimmering symphony of shades of color and light. I want to say it danced – like really moving in shape and form and consistent beautiful pattern — almost as if it was the result of a great artists paint brush, swiping the surface over and again with color and motion and beauty arriving at some place of unfinished creation. Alive – yes, it seemed alive, and to be moving to an unheard orchestra.

I didn’t want to interrupt the dance.

But I had home to get back to, and I couldn’t stand here forever.

Could I touch it? Would that disrupt its choreography? I took a deep breath and leaned down to get a closer look.

It reminded me of glass — only its transparency revealed an endless depth of color and light and motion. There was no way to determine how deep this liquid went.

I drew another breath and inched my finger towards the surface, slowly, tentatively, with all measures of caution and fear running through my blood. The first contact was surprisingly unsurprising. I think I expected it to be slimy, but instead it was almost like fitting on a lace glove. It seemed to envelope my finger, yet I could feel something like air in tiny patterns across my finger–so clearly it did not consume me.

But it gave me cause to ponder what would happen if I drunk it. Somehow pockets of air and a thick liquid did not seem like a positive combination for my body to consume.

I ventured further — dipping my entire hand in it, for it was a glorious sensation, to be enveloped by this beautiful living substance.

I let it dance over my skin for long moments before finally awakening to my reason again. Can I drink the “water”?

I glanced about me to ascertain whether other “living things” were nourished by it. It felt like the first time I’d really observed my surroundings — I’d been so distracted on my walk to the “lake” and even further by my fears upon my place of landing originally.

Let me pause here, because even though I don’t know how my iphone battery has lasted this long, I don’t want to lose this recording.