Sometimes, her soul would finally awaken just enough to focus its energies. And she begins to grab her will, and shout out to the universe for intervention, a solar flare. If she could manage this action, her body starts to come alive. The actress can evoke now and she starts repossessing her self, and it brings her to life.
If her will is strong enough, the call reaches the heavens. She connects with the universe and begins receiving a magical energy, shivering, pulling and playing her body like an avatar. She knows if she lets it take over, it will intensify. But she lets it go. She has no will to do it. Deep down inside, she has lost the courage.
Why can’t I snap out of it. Hacked? hijacked?
I look at myself from the top of the room. I see the actress, numb and unwilling to act the scene of lifetimes. She knows the script, she’s the author, but she won’t will or force herself to try and play. She’s tired to even be involved in her own life story.
But why.
I was a fool for love, not anymore dear unbroken heart. A hero unwilling to answer the call, wanting to but soon slipping into amnesia. A ghost performing what it remembers it was like being alive.
I hide and cover, while some other acts on my behalf. I don’t say and do what I really want to. I retreat and let it go away. I am afraid of being caught in a real moment. Without the awakening energy, I am a frightened little girl. A hero in a fairytale that never answers the call to adventure. Spontaneity shocks me, and I stop and silence my soul. There are no other me’s within me or around me of above me. I’m on my own, and I feel unsafe to play the journey. I’m a light version of myself with minimal capabilities and compatibility issues. The upgrade to my full version needs the energy of an Awakening. Being me once between every upgrade not only strips the new powers gained but also memory is regressing into very uncomfortable corners.
So used to living alone, I treat F like a new relationship, guarded in moments of truth and masked in face of glory. If only Shakey Lulu… If only a flare.
Orgasm magic, invoking Laila, saying my name, bravely keep going after I cum.
…I forgot about Alial…
I feel so much now of empty space of memories that I have to defragment, and cut my losses.
Maybe if you took a moment into hands, forced me against a wall somewhere, and reached to kiss me, but stopped so there is only time between us. A moment of truth. A real moment, to wake me up.
But you are like me, Virgo.
I write to find a lesson somewhere in the knit of stuff. I need to know why I have allowed myself to fail. I kept trying to save myself by sending clues I find, in the short connections between boughs of amnesia, to understand what I am missing, why is it that I am regressing and not progressing. Courageousless.
Feelings of being out of tune and lost inside. Misaligned in another timeline. Unfocused and unaware, like being in a dream and then falling asleep into another. It’s hard to remember to concentrate with the life around me, hard to feel or to desire anything;
.. little to no will to participate in a fucking hero journey.
‘connect with your past to be more present now.’
‘courage is the will to overcome the fear’
Coaxing myself to possess this body with orgasm magick. The only faith I have.
If I was in a battle, I would die because I’m uninvolved, in my mind and not in my body.
religions made us fear life and living, and programmed us not to hunger for life, but the afterlife. What’s next is better.
Pagans around the planet lived in the same care for detail and meaning as we play a RGB game. Every bird has a message, every sign is a clue.
Vikings are the epitome of playing the game for their fearless thirst for being killed in battle.
Throughout the trip with F, my senses and I should have been basking in the satisfying scenes of the most wonderful daydreams. But my words and my actions, my emotions were hard to come, painstakingly forced out. I felt broken.
A husk of a ghost of a spirit that should always be within me. why do I impersonate her? Disconnected from my higherself – here and now – by purpose? Fate? Or am I broken?…
Leaving the known world and entering the unknown part of the journey.
I walked a (very old wise man), in the streets of Amsterdam. His hunched back, smart winter attire, walking him back home, his life in my hands. He was composed and dying. He held my hand and I thought his trust in me is a cosmic test, that I tried to play along with, but couldn’t. I didn’t want to. I failed. I felt like a child. He was my mentor from the universe. I disappointed him. I didn’t care. I was too depressed, in shock.
this is from a dreamthis is a bad dream
On the couch, his traumatic moment of madness begins to boil out. Kneeling down in front of him, his absent-minded soulmate sees the horror of his pureness killed, he is utterly betrayed. She watches as his life unfolds right in front of her eyes, but she’s hovering silently outside her insides.
Until suddenly the hologram eyes appear. He piercingly stares, immediately, and deeply into her soul. But it’s not enough to bring her out. He then surrenders and displays vengeful regret, utter rejection; and then the look of total, painful disbelief of her unexpected failure to connect.
Lying on the bed, his hands reverently, feverently search for his necklace. He prays to the cosmos between sobs of shock. But he clearly sees her trying to transform into his soulmate.
She absentmindedly notices him grabbing the necklace and accepts the challenge without further thought. Awkwardly she dismounts him and goes to fetch her earings. She sits back on top of him and clumsily tries to force the earings on as he interjects: “No, don’t! Anything but the earrings..” his voice chokes into painful terrors, as if he’s saying enough is enough. But it was she who have had enough. Fine! And she stops trying to put the silly earrings on and toss them like a spoilt child to the wall.
I left him in his nightmarish sleep, and did an unusual thing. I walked in the new city alone. And smoked.
We are travelling in a cool pickup truck at night. Between us there is complete trust, love and codependency. He is driving, suddenly rearing offroad down a steepish hill. He doesn’t notice, there’s no harm. I tell him this is not a road, and he’s surprised and then he looses control and we crash into a house’s garage. No harm done and no big deal. The owner is outside and uninterested in what happened. He is a farmer and F has a calm talk with him about something completely different, while I look around going up the hill a little.
I walk into a second floor of a building, a hall outside offices with shops. A knowing inside tells me this is where my dad and uncle’s offices are, so be careful. (I’m also supposed to be travelling in another country, so I shouldn’t bump into them.) A familiar man greets me with a smile. I recognize him as someone I had one tinder date with (although not true in real life). He was big and fat and white. pointy beard, white in his hair, and wears black eye glasses, holding a takeaway coffee cup. He’s standing in the corner of the busy big hall and I greet him happily even kiss his cheek.
Suddenly uncle D comes out and sees me.
Nighttime, upper garage of my family home. I’m with my dad, and someone other male, maybe cousin M. We seems to waiting for something. They talk together sitting calmly, I walk down to the lower garage. The haris is rude to me. It’s very late to be out. I see something and I lean down, as cousin D comes out, taller, thinner, bitchy, madeup. Btitlawa2 w btitkhawat as rudely as the haris treated me (like a whore).
finally, F arrives in the truck to pick me up. Julie wakes me up before we get to leave.
Dream 2
We are going to someone’s house, maybe a couple’s. I say to F that I’m sure it’s gonna turn out to be Habbeh. When a woman and a man behind her come to greet us it is indeed her. I act out my reaction dramatically, fainting like and sitting on a bench, saying to F see didn’t I tell you.. Feelings of excitement, anger and longing, as me and H hug and kiss cheeks. She is happy and positive.
Inside, she shows me her baby son. F loves children. I cradle the baby boy but H hands me another cartoonishly smaller baby boy who is hyper and I worry I can’t hold both safely and ask her to do something about it.
F is for some reason now hiding playfully under a loveseater couch. I place the smaller baby down for F to take.
note: pulled out from dreams: went to bed at 4 am, julie woke me up at 6 with a start (she was sick). went back to bed for a couple of hours, woke up with a start again.…
