Unbreakable, Unshakeable, Unstoppable

This is a story about a man who takes a journey into the unknown realms of adventure, suspense and lucid imagination.
It was the day the earth shifted on its journey through space.
It was the day that the quest began for the limits to my imagination.
It was also the time when I decided to outfox the enemy within.
The enemy who tries to defeat us and which chains each one of us with doubts, fears, envy and all other negative emotions, preventing us from being ourselves and discovering our true purpose in life.
Should we dare limit our minds and limit our dreams to what we can see, hear, smell, taste and touch? We live within our beliefs and within the views of others impressed onto us. We believe what the world wants us to believe, just as we believe what we see and hear in society as represented in the media. Our imagination is limitless or does the imagination even have a limit beyond which we dare not cross? We can imagine anything we want to. It is possible to live several thrilling and exotic lives in the mental consciousness of several individuals across time and space, using the power of freedom as created by an unleashed imagination.
The punishment was not what I was expecting. I was tied to a tall tree on a hill and hung upside down in the sun the next morning. I was hanging from the tree for more than eight hours. My ankles were paining with the weight of my body. My head was filled with the blood which was gushing down to my head. I was sweating in the warm sun, as I was suspended from the tree. I was in a lot of pain and I was praying that the torture would end.
The skies were changing, the land was changing, the people were changing and so was the natural clock of time, which was in flux now. I flew over this new land and watched that there was a battle in progress. I saw a band of yellow stretch across a great distance. The yellow band on the land was now getting coloured with red. There were men and women dressed in the clothes of warriors, killing and getting killed in the battle. The field of battle was soaking with the blood of the fallen soldiers. The pride of the warrior is lost in death, as the corpses lay side by side, friend and foe on a shared common resting place on the battlefield.
The mists of time cleared and I was in Victorian England. The furnishings of the room looked antiquarian. I stared out of the window and I could see horse drawn phantom cabs going down the street. The date pad on the side of the mahogany desk read 4 August 1842.
The adventure continues as the world unfolds its many mysteries.