-
Search Results
-
In reply to: Synchronicity
aahahhah Jib! these are great.
Maya and Raya! – yesterday Maya came up somewhere, hahaha I can’t remember what it was! only hearing the name Maya, and thinking that it was in someway connected to something, I associate the word with May, which is why it made an impression. Funny the Raya name, Eric. I really got stuck on Ray Caesars name yesterday, I kept thinking there is a synch here, but I don’t know what it is yet.
(actually the reason I read the magazine with the Ray Caesar article, was because of a funny name mixup. Hairdresser man told me there was a mixup in appointments because of 2 men with very similar names booking on consecutive days, something like Tim Brown and Tom Brown … one letter out anyway ….. leading to a double booking, and me having to wait … hence the magazine )
I spent some time looking at Octopus Girl yesterday, found her quite fascinating
I have just seen a programme with a whole room of people wearing white robes, because the spirits found it easier to work with people wearing white … well according to the programme. And they were selling bottled holy water.
In reply to: Scrying the Word Cloud
In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
Before leaving the castle, the fake Viscountess needed to check something on the skull…
Was it a genuine one? She had almost trusted the so-called experts of the auction room, while she knew perfectly well that they only could see what they knew. And they didn’t know as much as her.To her knowledge, there was only a handful of genuine old crystal skulls. But counterfeits were legions and a plague for such a skillful cat burglar as she was. Well, cat-burglar,… perhaps not as acrobatically as she used to… As a matter of fact, her life-long search for these skulls had suffered the competition of a little embonpoint… — the good thing being that those few sticky superfluous pounds had been perfect to impersonate the Viscountess.
In the past, she had come across a few of these fake skulls and most of them bore very similar indications leaving her to think stakes were high that they were coming from the same con-artist.She methodically drew a little dagger from a scabbard at her belt. Going to one of the window, she drew one of the curtains a few inches to reveal the pale sun of Shropshire which was already fading.
Then, she turned the jeweled hilt in such a special manner that a soft clicking sound was heard, and a beam of light started to converge from the sun rays into the dagger. She directed the ray coming from the tip of the dagger’s blade into the bottom of the skull, and hold her breath in expectation.Soon the skull started to glow a bluish light, and light poured out of the skull onto the walls in dancing symbols, while a soft buzzing sound was being heard around, started to drown her in a slightly dissociated state.
She cut the dagger’s beam very quickly, her heart pounding at the validation. It was a genuine skull. One of the six.She had to hurry, she needed to proceed on her investigations to find the missing ones.
The trunk was there. She took another key that she had around her neck, leaving the first one on the cupboard’s lock for the Viscountess to be freed as soon as she would be out.
With the key, she proceeded to open the high-tech lock of the armored trunk which opened with a blow of air.Her jumpsuit was here, along with the two turbo-reactor powered condor-wings that she strapped on her jumpsuit in very professional movements.
A few moments later, with her big dark sunglasses that gave her the appearance of an obese fly, Carla was flying high over the countryside of England, enjoying the soft gliding on the slightly damp air.
In reply to: Synchronicity
haha yes funny name!
Today i read in the paper of two cleaning women stuck in a lift in Illinois. They overheard a man talking on a cellphone and made a racket so that he heard them.
In reply to: Rafaela’s Random Ramblings
Funny how the robber gang were all regrouping and conspiring to push the poor policeman onto the glass while my back was turned huh; all having so much fun with this focus while I lay punctured and deflated and alone BLIMEY O’RILEY where did that come from this is a very weird focus hunting exploration I must say and not one of my favourites and how do we make this one stop and can I have my lungs and ribs back in one piece now PLEASE
In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
Elizabeth Tattler gasped and clutched the right side of her chest. For a moment she wondered if the sharp pain she felt was a heart attack, and was greatly relieved when she realised it was located on the other side of her chest. After some investigation of her cluttered desk, she realised she must have fallen asleep on the pyramid shaped pencil sharpener her friend Yannie P had given her for her last birthday. It was made of fake blue diamond and was really rather beautiful; she could see thousands of suspended dust particles in it’s reflected light. But it was damn sharp! A thought flashed through her head, was the gift really a cunning plot to murder her? She shook her head at her own absurdity, anyway, fortunately the five layers of Angora-Mongoat wool jerseys she was wearing had protected her from more serious injury.
She could not help but notice how the consistently the quote of the day seemed so in tune with her moods. It was almost uncanny:
Bugger your feelings~ Tobipooh
Damn right! If she listened to her feelings she would go home and sleep for a week. No time for that, no time for a nana nap even! She had a novel to write.
In reply to: Synchronicity
She made her way downstairs to the kitchen, and the headlines in the Reality Times newspaper on the table caught her eye:
‘Mysterious Carved Rock Faces Appear in Yorkshire Villages.’
SYNC! Todays random quote, and I just this minute mentioned to Jan how things keep appearing IN the book before we hear about them OUTSIDE of the book, and I mentioned the Yorkshire stonecarver. We had been discussing previously the ELIZABETH sync. Some of Franci’s descriptions of Elizabeth fit exactly Jan’s impressions of Elizabeth in the movie she just watched.
The botanist, the woman in mans clothes, and the island all cropped up OUTSIDE the book yesterday……
In reply to: Synchronicity
In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
Becky coughed painfully, and shook her head in confusion. She coughed again, clutching her ribs and wincing as her bruised chest muscles screamed.
I am so out of the loop I fear I will never catch up, she wailed sadly.
She coughed again, clutching Chump close to her, as if the wiry little dog could soothe her tormented breathing with his warmth.
How will I ever catch up, Pork Chump? she moaned, stroking his scruffy scrawny body.
Chump winked at her and said Catching up and keeping track, don’t you know that is a wild goose chase? You may observe me, when I chase a goose. I chase the goose for fun, for a moment of fun. Do I wonder where the goose came from? Do I wonder where the goose went? Do I worry about the gooses mother, or daughter, or son?
Becky was momentarily nonplussed; after all, Chump had only winked and laughed at her before, she had never heard him speak.
In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
Franiel offered his congratulations to Aum Geog along with the others. He did not mind that he was not himself chosen to succeed Hrih Chokyam, and neither would he have expected it, however he felt the physical absence of the Old One keenly. His powerful presence had cloaked the whole monastery in a sweet warmth, and even though Franiel had only been there a short while, he had felt close to the Old One. Of course his spirit will always be here, but the same time Franiel knew change was inevitable, and he was unsure of his own place within the boundaries of the monastery. Happiness and fun were valued highly by Franiel, they were more important to him than all the spiritual ideals others would speak of, and he had felt a slight greyness of late. He found humility difficult and did not enjoy following rules, neither did he enjoy listening to the wisdom of the other brothers. At times his sense of humor would cause them to frown upon him. He knew the Old One had understood this, but now he was gone he wondered how he would fit. He pulled out the note Jog Lam had given him from Hrih Chokyam, Listen to your heart…. it began. What was his heart telling him?
Brother Franiel!. He heard the voice of Aba Tane calling him. The Brothers were shortly meeting to hear Aum Geog speak, presumably to announce the new direction for the monastery.
Brother Franiel, Aum Geog has requested you take this chalice to the Village, so the silversmith may engrave it with these words. Aba Tane handed Franiel a cup, and a piece of paper with a seal. He requested you should go right away and that you should remember that the cup is precious. He requested also that I sprinkle you with some Holy Water to safeguard you on your way. In customary manner, Franiel knelt and Aba Tane sprinkled the precious bottled water on his forehead. Love and Light, Brother Franiel. Blessings for your journey.
It was several days walking down the mountain to the Village. To be honest though, it was a task Franiel welcomed, perhaps to be away from the monastery at this time would give him a chance to better hear what was in his heart, and to miss the meeting was no loss for him.
He wondered at the haste, and at what the words might be, however it was not his business to question the directives of Aum Geog. He remembered also his dream of the silver goblet. Many things to ponder, he mused, a feeling of excitement growing within him.
In reply to: Scrying the Word Cloud
loved strong :heart:dear dimension
town eyes
weird images
cave surface
writing focuses
swing dear:bounce:
often speaking:yahoo_not_listening:
night dream bugger
strange writing
rather taken
friend matter
change
love woke
In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
The buzzing of the telepooh woke up Elizabeth with a flinch, her heart pounding in fast tremolos.
She grumbled restlessly, her throat dry and itchy and her limbs still limp from slumber; she was in a dream, and already, she was feeling the unusual distinct clarity of the dream scenario gently fade as her attention was focusing upon the unwelcome sound which had a distorting quality of her yet poorly focused perception of her surroundings.
The buzzing ceased abruptly. She opened an eye to see the ID of the caller, but it was not displayed. Bugger the caller
Still feeling groggy, she was hanging to the last images of her dreams. It was telling her a story, a legend… Something full of grandeur, like a galactic opera filled with awe, drama and excitement… A renewed fount of inspiration…The voice of the lady who had been telling her that story was still inside her head, all she had to do was to slightly let herself drift into the numb and warm state of mind in which she was some minutes ago…
You are tapping into a mass event. You are translating but a minute portion of it, though it seems colossal already. It is in fact so wide that it reflects in many other worlds which all live in your imagination. Bound together, they represent more books that you could write in a lifetime, more books that you and any army of ghost-writers could write in a thousand lifetimes…
The voice was delightfully soothing, and Elizabeth was seeing herself drifting again in the blissful sleep bereft of irate publishers’ diktats. Beaming at her, Elizabeth could envision a light feminine figure with flowing dark hair illuminated by green-blue shimmers. How could she ever remember all that was said… She was plagued with such bad memory…
Elizabeth had her dictaphoo under her pillow, ready for such sudden strokes of genius, but her mouth dried up from nicobeck wasn’t ready to spew out words that early in the morning.
What the lady with the teal eyes had shown her was an old book of prophecies, which she had named the Last Gospel, unknown yet but which would be remembered as the mass event would be enacted again.
The book spoke of a triad of planets, named M’si, B’si and Earth. Just before Elizabeth woke up, she had seen that Earth was in the process of been isolated from the other parts of the cosmos, for untold reason. Suddenly, she had seen one of the planets, the one named B’si, change her quality and become a “gravitational lense” altering the perception of space from the “Earth” standpoint. The planet B’si became transparent and expanded, as though it was an exploding super-nova, but nothing radiated from the planet. Only the quality of the space was modified.Elizabeth had the idea of a novel based upon this mass event which could be her next perfect best-seller. She reached out for her typewrooter.
When the World was young, the Powers were roaming in a void full of possibilities.
Initially, Three Syzygies there were. By two came the Six Powers. Three Syzygies, or couples of Light Beings, each Syzygy blessed with unlimited creative powers.Elizabeth pondered for a moment… She wanted to say many things at the same time, and couldn’t write them fast enough. She started to write notes haphazardly as they came to her mind.
— Two planets for themselves to play; a planet for themselves to dwell. The planets gravitate around a sun on the same orbit. Each of the Powers possess a symbolic
scepterpower artifact, and each couple generates a crystal or a kind of light seed which allows them to create new sentient beings… When parted, that crystal kind of light is deactivated.
— One planet is home of dragons, created by one of the syzygies, another is home of giant eagles; they all are lesser Powers… The third one have giant-like Light beings…— What made the planet B’si change its quality? What became of the Powers? (I can sense them desiring to become part of their creations, willing to forget about themselves and their powers… Punishment? Mere playfulness? Perhaps there was a coup organized by the Lesser Powers?)
Phew… Elizabeth yawned. All she could think of now was that she wanted to go back to sleep…
In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
Somewhere during the 23 rd century
“aaa AAAA AAAAA Tcheeeew !”
…
“Hiiiiii?! Oh Fracking NOOOoooo!”The shriek had been heard in the whole facility.
Phefia Beryl was the first on the spot where Vinya Grey had been playing so exuberantly with her vocal chords.
— Vinnie? Are you alright?… What just happened?
— Oh, Pheffy… I think I made an awful blunder…
— What do you mean?
— You know, my last experiment?
— The g…
— Yes!
— What?!
— They poofed away…
— Away?… You mean, all of them? Oh bugger… A few minutes later, Vinya and Phefia were around a white table sucking on straws picked into white and red polystyrenoid balls.
— Vinnie, you look terrible… That last geomagnetic storm had not done very good on your DNA I’m afraid.
— And the worse is that each time I sneeze, I blow up wormholes… I thought it would go better very quickly, but last one was big and lasted long enough to let the whole experimental herd wander off in another time/space and/or dimension…
— Yeah, that’s pretty bad… But wherever they went, they probably will die very soon… Imagine… With their stiff legs anytime they see something frightening, I guess a mere mapgie could easily have them for dinner…
— Such a pity… I was close to doing something great with them… When we discovered these fossilized blue spiders, I knew it was the first step.
— Bwah, this rehydrated frogrog is the grossest thing I’ve ever drunk… But yeah you’re right, the first results were very promising. The spiders venom could provoke very random and deep mutations.
— And all we needed was a little more control on the direction of the mutations.
— Anyway they’re just goats… You possibly can’t have breached a cosmic law with a handful of GOATS…
— Hope so Pheffy, hope so…
San Demangelo, 1848
Elroy was laughing… Hey Joe, Twi! he shouted A letter from Uncle Ernie!
— Uncle Ernie? How’s the old bat doin’? asked Twilight
— He’s sending his greetings for the new year, and babbling about last dead people in the neighborhood. But there’s something funny. He’s saying that he’d just acquired some funny goats. Like popped in, out of nowhere. At first he’d thought of a joke, but apparently no one’s been claiming them. He’d thought them dead, they were a dozen laying stiff on the ground, but when they started to wake up, they went down again like broken dolls. Apparently the magpies on top of the tree had been scaring them. Ahaha… Where does he get such strange stories…
— Well, magpies are scarey, Twilight said meaningfully, with a side glance at Joe…
— Whatever… At least he’d been giving us a good laugh. He’s saying he’s gonna breed the horny beasts, and start a Fainting Goat Fair (or FGF) in Marshall County. Perhaps we could get there next Thanksgiving…
— Depends when the Freak Show’s coming to town, mused Twilight, I hope to see them soon…In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
The Story Vincentius told to Arona
I was seven when my father died. He leapt into a swollen river to help a neighbor who was drowning. He saved the neighbor but could not save himself. Everyone called him a hero but my mother called him a stupid fool. She was filled with sadness for her loss, and anger that he would leave her in such a way. I remember she got a pair of big scissors from the sewing box and cut off her long hair. For weeks after that I would see her move her hand to brush her long hair away and suddenly realise it was no longer there and I would see her go still. Then her body would slump and she would stand there looking lost and not knowing what to do. One day her heart just stopped beating. They said she died of grief but I think it was that life had become an empty hole that just got deeper and darker. I don’t think that is the same as grief, but maybe it is. My three older sisters and I cried and cried when my father died, but I never once saw her cry.
When my mother died we had to cry in secret, because my Grandmother Naja moved in to take care of us. She didn’t believe in crying. There were many things she didn’t believe in. Grandmother Naja ate like a bird, looked like a piece of old leather and moved like a skittery rabbit.
Vincentius she would say to me, peering at me shortsightedly, you need to get bigger. Your parents are dead and you are now the man of the house. Every day she would poke me in the ribs and say “Vincentius, you need to get bigger”. Every time she poked me I remembered all over again that I was not good enough and that my parents were dead.
One day she sent Taffy, the second oldest sister out to the garden to get a cabbage. But there were no cabbages left the garden. Well! said Grandmother Naja, I can’t cook cabbage broth without any cabbage. So she gave Taffy a coin and sent my sisters into the Village to buy a cabbage from the market.
I begged to go too.
You are too small and you are too slow! said my sisters
Eventually though they gave in to my pleading.
I have often wondered if I knew the events that day would bring, if I would have begged so hard to go, mused Vincentius
to be continued …
In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
Home, at last… Bernie Eleonara Mynd, Viscountess of Shropshire sighed, dropping her hairy salmon coloured hermine fur coat to the butler.
— Now, leave me alone Vigor, I don’t want to be disturbed.
— Madam, Vigor bowed deferentiallyA smoking teapot of fine herb tea was prepared on the glass coffee table just near a black silk pouch. With a greedy look on her face, she untied voraciously the pouch to reveal the crystal skull she had just acquired.
After a few seconds of beholding the priceless possession, she lifted the teapot lid with a stiff face which eventually smiled blissfully at the smell of the fine Earl Fuchsia crop which was infusing.Good Lord, that trip was exhausting!… she growled in a very deep voiced that suddenly sounded more male than before.
Didn’t know I had to go as far as Spain to get that darn skull!Bernie suddenly ripped her fine chignon from her head, revealing a bald head with a few short black hair on the top. She spitted her false teeth, peeled off some wrinkled patches of latex skin, smeared the mascara around her globular eyes and scratched her crotch…
A ruffled sound and a “mmm mmm” suddenly caught her attention off the itchy body parts.
She went to the cupboard, drew a key dangling from a necklace deeply buried inside her ample bosom, then stopped for a moment, and muttered a “bugger” before unbuttoning her tight blouse and removing the corset that was constraining her breath.
Smiling wickedly, she proceeded to open the cupboard, but recoiled at a pale tied and muzzled figure who looked much similar to whoever she was impersonating.Oh, Lordy, what a stench! There’s no point in making such a fuss Viscountess, this will soon be over… I just needed a few things, and will soon be off, tonight to be precise…
The pale figure whined with pleading eyes.
Oh, just don’t make these eyes at me…
Bugger! I can’t bother with her now, she said to herself, closing the cupboard’s door oblivious to the plaintiff whines. Now, got to move on real quick, before they realize something was wrong with the transaction.
Juan had insisted that they all spent Christmas together before Paqui and Joselito went for their trip. He felt that there was more to this trip that he could grasp, and wanted to share these precious moments now, not wanting to live on regrets.
Now, the new year was here, and he was alone. At least, he’d been more than glad to see Claudio move out. It had all been a lot easier than he’d thought at first. Obviously, when Paquita had said to that maggot that she was going to accompany Joselito to his trip on the whachaname-Kikkoo Island, Claudio had been outraged, probably thinking a good playing victim act would soon make things right for him.
But he’d been wrong altogether. It was not about love for him or the other. It was all about freedom and being what she wanted. And emotional blackmail very quickly proved besides the point.
His father had been proud at Paquita. Her decision obviously was made, and it had been the first time he had seen the frail girl unwavering at the arguments.The situation had soon proved unbearable for Claudio, who had no longer any reason for hanging around Juan and Paqui’s house, and one day he’d moved out, rather discreetly, not to be heard again. Somehow, Juan was aware of the town’s gossips, that he had acquired some unexpected sum of money, not sure if all very legally, but the thing was that he had decided to take his chances by going some said to Nicaragua, others to Brazil or even to the US…
But who really cared? On his plane for Valparaiso, Claudio was looking at the letter he’d found in the family trunk. It was a brief correspondence between his grand-father and a certain Cillian Mc Gaughran, and it was linked to the skull he had sold such a handsome price. Perhaps he could get more information about them, if the recluse old man was still alive, that is…
In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
Felicity, or the “Bridal Goddess” as she called herself, was most encouraging when Becky said she was after something “a bit different” for her wedding day. Weddings had been having a resurgence of popularity in the last few years, obviously it was not the solid institution it was decades ago, but many people still liked to exchange intentions for their relationship. Most regarded marriage fondly as a rather quaint institution from the past.
I will help you create your dream wedding! Felicity gushed enthusiastically. Most important is that you wear something you absolutely adore and that looks simply stunning on you for your special day. What sort of look did you have in mind?
oh, um tribal actually, said Becky, vaguely, suddenly remembering she hadn’t mentioned her plans to Sean. He could be a tad on the conservative side at times . In fact, come to think of it, had she even mentioned to him that they were getting married?
Fantastic! Demure tribal? Revealing tribal? I do all sorts of tribals, whatever you want!
Hmmm said Becky reflectively, well probably not demure.
No agreed Tina, not demure.
A few hours later Becky and Tina were recovering from the ordeal, as Tina called it dramatically, over a cup of organic trim alpaca’s milk expresso Lucciato
Hey what’s this about a soup party? asked Tina. I couldn’t get much sense out of Sam, but he says you are helping with it.
Yeah it’s going to be great!
Well, just so long as you aren’t doing the catering, it should be great, thought Tina, shuddering at the memory of stuffed Nasturtium Blossoms and Locust Bisque Becky had served at their last get-together. Not forgetting the garlic icecream for dessert.
I heard that! It was healthy Tina! retorted Becky defensively.
Bugger telepathy sighed Tina
In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
The TV was on and the show was giving Sidonie the impression of a presence in the room with her. She didn’t like to be alone, she didn’t really like the sound of silence. She’d always be alone in her life, not really much friends, not really much colleagues… her parents always abroad, and her with the nanny… always in another room…
Well she was exagerating a bit her loneliness but she was in a victim mood currently… imagining all her life alone was giving her a sense of tragedy, enhancing some depth in her life she was currently lacking. Tonio was at work today and she was feeling lonely… maybe she would take a pet. She’d heard of a new shop in the city, a shop of pet rental
Let’s have a look at that shop
In reply to: Scrying the Word Cloud
Pain interesting ….
dark quickly, game change, lost obviously, bring bandages,weird weather.
Whatever …
Franiel wondering … yellow color …. raft named random truth? Try move nothing. Perhaps heart speak sometimes quiet. Thinking energy….remember herself moments, process inside light, past help outside …. wait, familiar wall happening … floating mind sea movement.
Yurick noticed …. told mummy story, attention Bronkelhampton.
Joe tell sheriff spiders answer, bugger party!
Cold worry gone …. laughing. Dear bright cave, already connected.
In reply to: Synchronicity
In the local newspaper today there was a full page story on an isolated monastery, Southern Star Monastery, in Hawkes Bay. I had not ever heard of it before. Anyway the story talked about the election of one of the Brothers to Abbot, which is a six year term thing, and the plans for the future expansion of the monastery …to welcome others and be an oasis of peace for the wandering traveller. The Brother who is Abbot is Brother Keogh, which sounds a bit like Geog….
In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
Arona sat by herself just outside the cave. It was twilight hour, in between the dark and the light. She had awoken early, with a heaviness in her heart.
Maybe I will just sit here for ever and ever and never move again, she mused, I will turn to stone, and they will make legends up about me, the strange stone girl of Malvina’s cave.
Buckberry the little dragon ambled over and sat quietly next to her. He had been foraging in the half light for the buckberries which grew outside the entrance to the cave, and to which he was extremely partial. Arona reached out a hand, slowly, and petted him. She felt tears begin to form somewhere in the dark space behind her eyes, was it many tears or one endless tear? she wondered. The tear started falling from her right eye first. The left eye seemed more reluctant to cry, and when eventually a little trickle started down her face, she followed its watery path with interest.
Light will come, said the voice kindly, can you feel it?
The tear from her left eye had caught up now, Arona noticed, and was first to dampen the waiting earth.
Buckberry and Arona sat for quite some time, communing in companionable silence, and both knew that morning a bond was formed that would not easily be broken.
it’s a 
synch