The White Circle

When I was a little girl, I would lie down in my bed before going to sleep and watch little images dance through the darkness of my mind. 

The scenes and experiences would be constantly changing with information and knowledge unfolding for me along the way. Vibrant mandalas and patterns would carry my consciousness on a wild ride taking me to places beyond my comprehension, freeing my soul. But no matter where the journey took me every night, there was one thing that always remained the same: the way they faded away, gently putting me to sleep. The images of the journey would collage themselves as thousands of little fragments swirling around in a circular pattern, then gradually reduce until only one remained. It was a wave, crashing into itself, transforming into a white circle of light that would pop and vanish into nothingness. 

As the years went by, moments of deja vu slowly started reminding me of what I had long forgotten, and suddenly, I saw the wave again. As it morphed into the white circle and was about to pop into oblivion, I chose to rewind it over and over, savouring the nostalgia of childhood, before I finally let it go.

I didnt know I would get to it all again: the wave, the white circle of light and the pop of everything into nothing. That white circle is my destiny. Whatever it is, whatever it means, and whatever it takes.