Search Results for 'real'

“Old Leonard teafed Franiel’s chalice
Though t’was done without any malice
It was nowt but a clue,
Not a chore he must do
And the same thing applied to the phallus”

While Becky shivered in the rain sodden bush waiting for Elvira, the connection to the Kuzhebarian laughing monk was getting stronger, and she amused herself recalling the latest developments in the Reality Play in Limerick form.

Franiel awoke, it took him a few moments to get his bearings. He stretched, and slowly adjusted to his waking state. He wondered how long he had slept, it was quiet and dark. Although he couldn’t see much, he could feel that dawn was not far away. The ghost hour.

He must have slept for hours.

Remembering Leonard he looked around and softly called out. There was no reply, and unless Leonard was sleeping, Franiel was alone. “Aye” he sighed, and finding the blanket from his pack, fashioned it into a tent over his head and took shelter in it. It was nearly day, another day.

Thinking of his encounter with Leonard, the strange dancing and especially the sweet taste of the nectar, Franiel reached into his pack again to retrieve the chalice.

It is no longer there

Franiel was not quite sure if he heard a voice utter these words, or if it was just a strange sense of knowing. He still felt around, taking out each item carefully and methodically, emptying the pack, not really wanting to believe the chalice has gone, nor to consider what the implications of this loss might be.

Perhaps he did not put the chalice back in the pack after all? He crawled around his surrounds, squinting into the half light of the morning, feeling the dew damp ground. Deciding to trust what he knew in his heart already he sat back and quietly watched as the sky eventually flushed brilliant crimson.

Red sky in the morning. A warning ….it is only weather words but ….

Reluctant to consider his options, he instead considered some dandelions, how luminous they looked in the morning light.

Ok, I don’t know how I fell upon this one, but all I can remember is that the name made me think of the gibbons syncs of the last few days…

Cedric Gibbons

Apparently he was an American art director, and “he is credited as the designer of the Oscar statuette in 1928.”
Well that also syncs with Tracy’s comment about the parrot Oscar.. though I don’t remember where I saw it… maybe on her multiply thingy… and also after Eric’s great cubical comment, I remember seeing one of her messages to him and she said that he won an Oscar for it…

The other sync with him is that these last few days I had the impression of connecting to “ancient actors or actresses” those of the “golden age”… so to speak. Well I have not much to say about it except that it is a sync I still don’t know where it will lead me.

(added later)

Well apparently other syncs… the actress Deborah Kerr was one of the actresses in the movies he made in 1953 Young Bess and yesterday at work one of my colleagues, who is so interested in breeding cats, showed me a web site about Norwegian cats from the Lailoken site

The kitten he was particularly interested in was called Deborah Kerr
I don’t know if this page will stay long as they are for sale, though they are really cute.

I’ve been surfing on my impulses and on the internet.
I found many interesting stuffs, and all quite connected or syncing together so to speak, even from distant links or seemingly not related links.

Today’s syncing is about “pea” I saw this word many times and it led me to several individuals connected to genetics… and to this guy : Karl Pearson who was born March 27, 1857…

In the wiki biography, it is said that he further stated :

…science is in reality a classification and analysis of the contents of the mind….” “In truth, the field of science is much more consciousness than an external world.

Well I like this free flowing movement.

— “Sha! I think I’ve had one of them bloody brainwaves of mine!”

— “You are the smart one Glor … ‘ang on, I’ll just light my fag then I can listen proper.”

— “Well you know how Vessie has been so good to us and I still feel a bit awful about breaking that bloody door down.”

— “We meant well though Glor. Our hearts were in the right places.”

— “They were Sha … but then her bloke being there and all …. well that dress she was wearing Sha, it barely covered her privates.”

— “She’s a native girl though Glor,” Sharon giggled, “She’d have grown up wearing them little grass skirts and not much else I reckon …. mind she’s ever so nice though ain’t she.”

— “Oh she is …. and there’s nowhere to buy clothes on this bloody island neither, she must have to make do, bless ‘er little ‘eart.”

— “It could do with a mall I reckon Glor,” said Sharon reflectively, “this place would really take off if there was a small mall.”

— “I think you’re onto something there Sha, oh that would be bloody marvellous I reckon, a small mall.”

— “Anyway what’s your brainwave then Sha? I’m all agog with curiousness.”

— “Well I reckon with all the eating and lying around we’ve been doing I’ve gained a bit…. what do you reckon Sha?”

— “You might have done a bit Glor,” said Sharon eyeing her friend thoughtfully, “you can carry a bit extra though, and it goes to all the right places on you, you look right sexy, I reckon our Harry would think so anyway”

— “Oh give over Sha! “ Gloria blushed and giggled. “Anyway back to my brainwave … well that Vessie is quite slim … “

— “A bit on the skinny side really, Glor, needs a bit of meat on them bones of ‘ers to be what you would call proper sexy like us, and very tall with it ain’t she.”

— “Yes athletical, most of them island girls are I reckon. Anyway, listen up Sha, a few of my things ain’t been fitting so well and …and ‘ere’s my master plan Sha …Da da ….” she paused dramatically, “I thought I could hunt out something nice for Vessie!”

— “Oh that’s bloody genius Glor! you’ve got a real kind heart you ‘ave! You’re a bloody saint even … did you ‘ave something special in mind?”

— “Did I what Sha!” Gloria’s eyes were shining with delight at her own generosity. “You remember that pink frock, the one I wore when you and Harry got ‘itched, with the wee roses on it. Well I bought it with me! I thought you daft fool! when I packed it, what you taking that bloody thing for? … I reckon it was my psychic abilities I got ‘anded down from my Aunty Philly, God rest her soul, made me bring it.”

— “Oh you’ve still got that frock! That were bloody gorgeous …. well bless your bloody heart Glor!”

— “Well its got sentimentical value of course,” said Glor looking serious. Her voice lowered, “ Between you and me though Sha, I do feel for that poor girl. I mean she’s pretty enough .. but she’s got no bloody idea how to make the best of what she’s got. It’d be a bit on the short side mind …. but I don’t think she’d mind that, not if that last dress is anything to go by, and I’m right handy with the needle and thread if it needs any fixing” she paused for a moment thinking, “Sha! I think I’ve ‘ad another bloody brainwave! We could give her a full beauty makeover, the bloody works, with all our beauty know-how … that lippy she was wearing ..” her voice trailed off and she shook her head sadly.

— “Wrong shade of red weren’t it,” Sharon nodded understandingly. “She’s going to have to make a bit more effort if she’s to keep that bloke of hers.”

— “Well I’ll ‘ave him any day,” giggled Gloria

— “Oh you’re bloody wicked, you are Glor! If your Joe could ‘ear you now! …. ‘ere you’ll ‘ave to fight me for ‘im though! … ere,” she said looking around and lowering her voice conspiratorily, “maybe we could have one of them threesomes!”

— “Oh stop Sha, you’re too bloody much you are!” spluttered Gloria, barely able to control her mirth. “Serious now though Sha, that Vessie might be a bit overcome and shy like, with all our generousness and kindheartedness, we have to make sure she knows we ain’t taking NO for a bloody answer!”

Yann had a weird thought.

The reality is like a giant Sabulmantium. Och Aye The Snoot!

I take it from that you don’t know where the wedding dress is currently. Well if you do come across it would you mind letting Felicity know. said Tina haughtily, switching the phone off abruptly.

Al’s words running through her head she started walking quickly nowhere in particular.

Tina, what’s the point of these experiments we have been doing with Becky and Sam if you are going to keep relying on the phone all the time? And why are you trying to sort out the dress for Felicity, it isn’t your problem.

It wasn’t the so much the words which had stung, after all he was right, it was the annoyance she thought she had heard in his voice.

She felt him making contact, quickly blocked, feeling too hurt to be open.

She knew he was tired, god knows he had put so much into the wedding preparations, as he did with all his projects. He was fast building a reputation for his ground breaking experiments with body processes. Tina loved Al whatever he looked like, which was just as well really considering some of the rather bizarre effects he managed to produce.

Becky had been a bit irritated with her as well, Tina you are so last decade, nay century even! she would say, rolling her large eyes dramatically. Becky too was racing confidently and exuberantly ahead. Her intriguing contributions to the reality play never failed to amaze Tina. Her own contributions felt stolid, words trapped in a big gluggy ball of last century energy, she had to work hard to extricate each one.

It was nearly dark, raining harder now, wind-driven rain. Tina liked it, the rain complemented her mood and disguised the self-pitying tears streaming down her face. There were very few people in the street. Just the long line of shop windows, glass faces warmly lit, overhangs offering some shelter from the rain, though it wasn’t shelter Tina was looking for.

Her long hair whipped around her face, wet blue satin clung to her slim frame.

Sam had taken off unexpectedly and suddenly to Australia. He had been gone only a few days and she missed him. Dear Sam, his wicked and irrepressible sense of humour could make her laugh even in the blackest of moods. He too was playing with new potentials, forging new and exciting paths.

The others are probably all communicating with their advanced telepathic skills right now, laughing at dumb old last century Tina, she thought morosely. In fact even last century I would have been so last century, judging by my spectacular lack of success at anything I have undertaken recently. A vision of her recent humiliation in the ballet dancing class sprang to mind. She winced and quickly blocked the distressing image of the dance teacher drawing her aside after class and gently suggesting she might try the Ancient Kuzhebar Motional Practices beginner’s class, to get some basic rhythm, before attempting the ballet. ….

An elderly woman who had disembarked at the nearby gondola stop splashed by her, and, illuminated momentarily by the street lamp, Tina felt a flash of recognition. The woman turned suddenly towards her, smiled, gesticulated with her free hand, the other was clutching a large bag, towards some distant bushes. She mouthed some words at Tina, but these were lost in the wind. Tina waved and managed a reciprocal smile.

She noticed a Positivity Robot parked in front of Samantha Lingerie, and found herself drawn towards it, 3D images of models wearing the latest in underwear fashions rotated in the shop’s window, their faces beaming irritatingly at her. These Positivity Robots had been all the rage in the early 2020’s, you did not see as many of them now. On impulse she stood in front of the robot, touched the screen, allowing it to read her energy. “negative 21” its glass face discreetly informed her. The words “I AM PERFECT” flashed up on the screen as a suggested thought pattern to implement. Tina grimaced. I wonder how low I can make this damn thing go. The idea made her giggle and to her alarm shot the meter up to a positive 12. Bugger, a bad start!

What am I going to do with myself, Mr PR, if you are so positively smart?

I AM PERFECT…. I AM PERFECT …. I AM PERFECT ….

perfectly grumpy, perfectly insecure, perfectly last decade, perfectly soaked to the skin, Tina watched as the meter climbed all the way up to 55.

She glanced at the shop window, just as a smiling model wearing a minuscule open net dress and nun’s habit rotated by. She felt an inexplicable burst of amusement as the meter climbed to 57.

I am delighted with mine although not really sure how you would pronounce the surname: Lessien Lúinwë

Vessie Darl, Sha and I are just popping down to the beach for some more of them special beauty sea waters you told us about.

Great idea, Gloria, responded Veranassessee vaguely. She watched absent-mindedly as Gloria’s generous body, clad only in a skimpy red bikini, disappeared down the corridor. There was something about that shade of red tugging at her memory. Vermillion red …

Red! PLAN B! Oh my God! how could she have forgotten!

It was two days since she had called him, that meant he would be here soon, that did not leave her much time to prepare.

Everything has to be perfect. She wears a silk vermillion red camisole, the one he gave her, scarcely covered by lush black velvet and topped with bright red lipstick. She casts her eyes critically around the room. It is nearly three years since she has seen him, she doesn’t want to spoil this moment. The glasses of soft red merlot are ready, a plate of miniature liqueur chocolates on a plate by the bed.

She shakes out her long dark hair and looks in the mirror. Her chocolate skin glows, her eyes are bright. She will do. She touches the red silk camisole … it is still beyond her comprehension how she can have forgotten.

When he arrives he is beautiful. Too beautiful. she thinks. It is so easy for him, effortless. He appraises the room and laughs casually, he knows how hard she has tried. Agent V he says, a pleasure to see you again. He kisses her. She remembers everything.

He takes a sip of the wine. She watches him, unsure of herself. He has a black bag with him.

He looks at her, sees her looking at the bag, and smiles slowly, I have something to show you, Agent V, he says, and she can sense his pride, the barely suppressed excitement in his voice.

He opens the bag carefully, pulls out a small white box, handles it lovingly. Two years experimentation in the Russian lab, he says softly, delicate threads of spun blue bonnet spider silk and yet strong enough to hang a bridge on.

He looks at her. Come here. he says

She hesitates for just a moment thinking of Mahiliki, and then inwardly shrugs, bugger it, I never really wanted to live on Fukitupi island and have loads of babies anyway. She moves over to him. He takes the transparent silk and slowly starts to wind the delicate thread around her wrists. Try and break it, he whispers in her ear, kisses her neck.

Then stops.

My God, what the fuck is that?

Veranassessee sighs.

No I swear Sha, I am telling you, I saw him go into Vessie’s room.

Oh my God Glor, he might be a murderer, or a bloody rapist even!

I tell you though, he were right bloody gorgeous.

Well never mind that! The door is locked Sha. I think we’d better shout out. Make sure she’s okay.

Right, good idea. And then if she doesn’t answer we can bash the door in and we can both pounce on him.

Right, on the count of three Glor, we’‘ll shout out, one… two… THREE!”

Finnley, you let me in right this mooment! commanded Elizabeth Tattler imperatively.

I am sorry, Ms Tattler, I am under strict instructions from Mr Arak that I am under no circumstances to let you in until this office has been cleaned. I will lose my job if I let you in.

Now there’s an idea! she thought, toying with the idea momentarily

Why that pompous, arrogant, supercilious proot ….. Elizabeth paused midflow to admire her vocabulary.

Finnley was quite enjoying the change of routine, and Ms Tattler’s office really was a treasure trove of interesting bits and pieces. The thick layer of dust, and were those magpie droppings? were a little off-putting mind-you. She plucked a book randomly from the shelf, and lifting the visor of her protective faceshield in order to see better, gently wiped the title clean. “I am Perfect Indeed” The author was some fellow named Erwin P Lemone who Finnley had never heard of. She picked another one, “Basic Flying Massage Techniques of the Ancient Kuzhebar, Book One for Beginners” by Jibberish E Shrale

Finnley, Elizabeth’s voice had taken on a wheedling tone from the other side of the door. Be a sweetie-pooh will you and put this note in my clooh-box. Finnley watched intrigued as a piece of paper inched its way under the locked door.

Sure Ms Tattler, where is the clooh-box?

On my office desk, next to the daily quotes. Don’t mess anything up Finnley dear, you be careful, I have very precious things in my office.

Finnley could not resist a peek but the scribbled words made no sense to her

Amanita muscaria intoxication typically produces macroopsia – Beckipooh?
13th gate and the 13th skull FEBRUPOOH 20TH 2008
The Snoot – who is he really?
supercilious proot! Arak Dr Bronkelhampton? ? ? ? WHAT IS PLAN B?????????

Her eyes fell on the daily quote for the day, that Lemone chappie again!

rainy wedding, merry marriage

She snorted derisively, He must be madder than Almad that Lemone, how silly! No wonder poor Ms Tattler seemed a bit mindblown sometimes if she reads stuff like that

The last words of the stranger were still resonating in his mind. Franiel was feeling a bit drowsy and he had the odd sensation of being looked from the inside. A smile illuminated the face of the man.

You are the weirdest man I ever saw. he said in a sigh. When he realized what he had told his guest, he blushed with shame. I’m sorry, I wouldn’t mean…
Hahahahaha. The man was slapping on his legs. Hahahaha, my dear Franiel, you don’t know how close to the truth you are. I appreciate when one speak his heart.

Franiel couldn’t say anything. He was aware that he should have been feeling shameful, but the laugh of the stranger had dissipated that convention. He was just feeling in harmony with his creation. This last thought surprised him. His creation? He’d been told that the gods created all that is on the Duane, her sister the Murtuane and their ghostly sister the Phrëal.

What was in the nectar? I’m seeing things. He frowned. Something in the surrounding objects, the mossy rocks and the earthly path, the grass and the insects flying or crawling around. The colors were different. Your eyes… they are… blue…

The stranger was still smiling, not saying anything, and though Franiel was feeling as if he was communicating him important things.

Something leapt from behind a tawheowheo, making the nearby dandelion seeds fly away silently.
The creature was barking and Franiel jumped on his feet, making the chalice fall in the dust. It was similar as a mountain wolf, but smaller. Black and fuzzy. And it was running toward him.

Don’t be afraid of Moufle, he’s my long life companion, he’s been following me in my exploration for quite some time in a form or another. He makes a lot of noise, but he knows his friends.

Moufle was trying to lick Franiel’s face. All the love he had felt a second before was shaded by the need to keep the animal away. Not that he was dangerous. The stranger… what was his name? He didn’t tell him his name. Franiel was too shy in his normal state to dare ask directly. But he could at least relax as Moufle was now occupied with his master, who spoke as if he’d read his mind.

I am not his master, you see. he was fondling his companion. He’s just choosing to come with me.
He kept silent for a minute, snooting around.

By the way, my name is Leonard.

That’s when she heard a little voice… not really in her head, the voice was like coming from under the space tissue.

Dear RATS… Thou canst do it thyself. Let the power of the Snooshrooms flow through thy skin.

— Who’s there? asked Becky anxiously… is it the Snoot? What are the smooshnools? I don’t want any more skin problem, don’t do anything!!!

Becky was feeling a bit drowsy again. She was tired of sleeping though and managed to get rid of this feeling.

She got startled by her cell phone, it was vibrating furiously now… oh no, just a picture message from Sam.

With that distraction she lost grip of herself for a few seconds… and when she woke up she was feeling her head like heavy… how god!!!! what the f…

When Becky realized what she was wearing, she wished the ground would open up and swallow her. She rummaged in her bag for her phone, and called Al. She would hide behind a bush until he arrived, bringing some clothes with him, she thought.

The number you have reached is not connected at this time, the automated voice on the other end told her.
RATS! His phone was switched off.

Becky tried Tina’s number. Her phone was disconnected too.

Becky tried Sean’s number. Thank Flink for that! At least it was ringing.

No answer. It rang and rang, but nobody answered.

Bloody hell! Sam’s in Australia, he can’t help, what am I going to DO? she wailed.

It was taking longer than expected for Sanso and Zhana to find food, and they were weak with hunger when they came across the big toad. There was plenty of water; gurgling brooks and rushing streams crisscrossed their path, crystal clear with icy cool snow melt from the summer thaw. The’d found a few cow berries along the way, and they had chewed a few mushrooms but they wanted something substantial before setting off for the other side of the world. Sanso had left a trail of flourescent green cave lichen, to show them the way back to the cave entrance, which was to be their portal to Nishanti’s place.

Maybe the toad will show us the way to find food, said Zhana. Ask him, Sanso!

You ask him! replied Sanso.

No, YOU ask him. Zhana was inexplicably feeling shy.

Sanso chuckled goodnaturedly, and agreed to ask toad. He stood there silently smiling for some minutes, and Zhana began to wonder just WHEN Sanso would oblige. Her stomach was grumbling and growling and she was starting to get impatient when Sanso turned and strode purposefully off to the left.

What the…..snapped Zhana. She rushed after him, angrily shouting OY! Her foot caught on a root, sending her sprawling face down amongst the mushrooms.

Sanso turned, and couldn’t help but laugh. The more he laughed, the angrier Zhana became, causing Sanso to laugh all the more.

AAAH Ha Ha Ha! AAAHHHH Ha Ha Ha HAAAAH! OOO Hoohooo! If you could see your face all covered in blue mud and red and white spotted mushrooms, you’d laugh too!

Zhana started to cry.

There there, dear, Sanso said kindly, trying hard to stop laughing, and wiped the mess off the girls face with an old rag he found in one of his pockets. Did you know that Siberian blue mud is a much sought after beauty treatment in some places? This little mishap will do wonders for your complexion, you know.

Will it? snivelled Zhana, who had been preoccupied of late with with her adolescent skin.

Yes! There is no such thing as an accident, you know.

Well, where were you rushing off to, anyway? You promised to ask toad where to find food, and then without saying a word, you dashed off and left me!

Sanso looked perplexed. I DID ask toad!

No, you DIDN’T, retorted Zhana.

Sanso stared at her, wondering what was the matter with her. Then the penny dropped, so to speak, and he realized that Zhana was more familiar with verbal conversations, and had been unaware of the silent communication between him and toad.

Zhana, most of our conversations aren’t in words, you know, he explained gently. Listen to the non-words.

Huh? it was Zhana’s turn to look perplexed.

You do it all the time you know. You are simply not paying attention.

He winked at her, and smiled. Come on! The food is this-a-way!