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AuthorSearch Results
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December 31, 2007 at 12:37 pm #614
In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
Vincentius, usually of cheerful disposition, had been in a silent and pensive mood all day. Later that evening, while Yikesy slept, Arona gently asked him if he was okay. He sighed.
Do you realise it is Yuletide, Arona? he asked.
Arona did not pay much attention to the passing of time. It was a rather like her map. She did not quite see the point of having a map when she did not know where she was going. Likewise, what was the point of keeping track of time? When one did not know where one was going, it was clearly not necessary to be anywhere at any particular point in time.
So she grunted non-committedly in response.
Is that a special time for you? she prompted eventually, when Vincentius once again lapsed into a gloomy and silent reverie.
He sighed. Do you mind if I tell you a story, Arona? he asked. It is rather long.
I would love that, she replied, meaning it sincerely.
December 30, 2007 at 11:34 am #1605In reply to: Synchronicity
oh yes that seems interesting… there is a strong potential… and many things we don’t use in this site too
December 29, 2007 at 10:31 pm #1992In 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.December 29, 2007 at 10:10 pm #615In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
From Georges and Salome’s diary
I woke up from my mediation, having seen those whom Georges refers to as “Guardians”. They looked deeply troubled. Apparently, they possess some kind of power that each of them share to an extent, at least the Eldest of them (or Jokans). With that power, they can travel in time and space and undo what another of them could have planted at some point in the canvas of their material reality.
It thus appears of extreme importance that their decisions are reached with unanimity, as they have come to experience. My own presumptions tell me of a time not so far from this now where they were more numerous, but that the competition may have quickly decimated —exhausted, most certainly— those who did not align with the more powerfully expressed movement. Or perhaps they simply parted in different probable versions of this World, which is an eventuality equally as presumable.
In any case, they were distraught over one in their ranks apparently doubting the decision they had just taken. They all knew of the consequence of one of them disagreeing, and it could nullify their efforts. It was thus of great importance that they come to understand, as much for the group as for the individual the source of his anguish. It seems some big changes are being planned…
December 28, 2007 at 11:24 am #608In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
I can feel a human focus on this Island said the aspect of Yuki that was focused near Anita.
The little girl was sleeping for the moment and her dream focus, though still close to them, was not paying attention to her friends. She was entertaining herself with the dream focuses of her parents, telling them about all that she had been doing with her friends. They themselves were not yet choosing to disengage in this particular probable reality but they were in a kind of transition “place”, removed from their bodies for a lengthy time framework. They had built a similar environment to their home and were acting “as usual”.
It is a focus of Blöhmul that is not yet aware of our presence here though an aspect of this focus is… I feel it is not a singular focus in a way that is quite original
Rafaela and Armelle were merged consistently at that time and were creating a strange owly goat or a goaty owl depending on the angle of aspect you were looking at or from.
Yes it is quite a messy focus, it is generating of new ways of explorations… I’m exploring it from now on said the goaty owl / owly goat.
The energy was moving and creating new connections. That focus and Anita were already connecting to each other, a strong thread of energy had been attracting them to each other… The four essences began to move in a facilitating of this attraction, merging together in a marmoset, close to the “binary” focus… Surely the dog like aspect of this focus would be intrigued by the marmoset and would want to follow it… to the little Anita.
December 26, 2007 at 4:53 pm #604In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
Yann stroke Arona, lost in his thoughts. He’d spent the last few days with Yurick at Gustav’s place. He’d met Gustav a few days ago, when Yurick came to Paris with him. Gustav was a very sympathetic and fun fellow, his energy felt very soft to Yann and quite sensitive though he could appear a bit rough to others. Gustav was kind enough to let Yann sleep one night at his house when he was still there, before his holidays with his parents before Christmas and friends after Christmas. It was the occasion to eventually be with Yurick.
The life together was a bit different from what he would have normally expected… before. Now it was just a new experience, the interaction was different, and the configuration of energy could be a bit tricky.
Yann had noticed that in his perception even if an aspect of his attention was focused on the physical place and that he was physically seeing other individuals and objects in the official room, his main attention was elsewhere… he was beginning to be able to let more of this periphery to bleedthrough in his official reality, and he was well aware that the interactions weren’t always what they appeared to be. He first had the reflex to filter it through his usual associations and what he knew of this reality… but often enough he had that twinge about it like it wasn’t really fitting… it wasn’t fitting at all, he was trying to mold it into another shape, a familiar and distorted shape, so to speak. Ok, that was acceptable, and most of the time his attention and his movement was toward Yurick’s energy.
Yurick was creating some weird stuffs in with his mouth… some itching and uncomfortable pain… it was a bit weird because of the familiar associations with it… associations with pain, illness, preoccupations, caring, even self worth… but most of all it was showing Yann about the automatic movement “outside” of self, and not being present in what himself was doing.
Yann had noticed that most of the time when he was in what he was doing there was that warm expansion feeling in his belly… but still there was that location association with it… and the association that Yurick was outside and the room was outside and then at times it was fading and there was not much separation within energy.
And he just noticed that no separation didn’t necessarily mean continuity
Ok, again this Owl music of the Harry Potter series… the “scum of the universe” connection was a bit hidden by this music now, but it was still in his periphery. And something he wanted to explore. A feeling of space travel and of mercenaries… that reminded him of the video games he was playing when he was a kid. There was always a time when he was fascinated by the “bad guys”, the pirates. Haha, maybe a pie rat would do as a dessert.
He would soon come back “home”. He had that DVD of the pilots of a series about space travels that he liked a lot… Yurick had told him about it 2 days ago, he had never seen it.
December 26, 2007 at 11:15 am #603In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
Sam was feeling like a human being shaped balloon… not in rubber, but more in some waterproof material… with holes in his hands and his feet…
It was like him as essence was blowing the air into the puppet to give it more or less consistency, more or less presence.
At times his action would not be on the blowing into the bodily structure but on the looking of its canvas, its blueprint… the puppet would appear slack or flabby.
At times his action would be the blowing into the structure, and how he would insufflate the air into the structure, how he would direct it through the canvas would create different actions, different movements of this energy pattern, some wavy, some more rigid, and some pulsing.He currently felt he was trying to block the air from coming out of the puppet clothing… blocking the flow of the attention, of the energy into something absolute… he felt he was doing that to understand what he could create in doing it. It was not a continuous action and not something he wanted to make last much longer. Only the understanding of the movement of the air through his body was interesting him.
He just breathed in and out and decided to do something different. He had what he wanted of it now.
There was a click in his right ear, and he could feel his attention and his energy movement beginning to shift.
December 24, 2007 at 4:19 pm #602In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
Albert the mosquito was playing with a gigantic creature to the hide and seek game.
He was quite a daredevil mosquito and had managed to survive for several days in the same space arrangement.He was close to the fulfillment of his intent and ready to move to other areas, but still in this reality… maybe he would choose some other species as he was incorporating some Praying Mantis aspects for a few days now.
December 24, 2007 at 4:10 am #599In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
I wonder how delightful it may feel to become one with that butterfly, mused Franiel, his attention diverted from the job at hand as he followed the dance of a delicate white butterfly. He closed his eyes for a moment and merged with the creature, how free ! He sighed, trying somewhat reluctantly to pull himself back. Franiel had been sat there for quite some time now, supposedly engaged in the task of writing a short poem of 3 stanzas for Hrih, the Old One.
Of course there was no pressure. Yet in his desire to please, Franiel felt it as such. In his dreams of the previous night Hrih had visited him. He had offered Franiel a golden crown, a silver goblet filled with sweet nectar, and a jewelled sword. Choose! commanded Hrih. Franiel had chosen the goblet and drank thirstily from it, and yet he had felt that Hrih was not pleased with his choice, and upon wakening Franiel had felt a strange uneasiness.
Franiel had not been trained in the way of the pen, and he knew his words would be clumsy. He had been raised in a poor home, where words were not considered to be of much value other than to instruct him in his tasks, or berate him when those tasks were not completed. Being a dreamy child, this had often been the case.
He wished he could harness the power of words and use them to soothe and caress, to create beauty even, he thought, gently running his finger over the plain wooden table where he was seated.
Well for now he would not worry what form his words should take, for it was enough of a task even to know what his highest truth might be!
My highest truth .. my highest truth, … how many times now had he said these words, hoping perhaps if he repeated them enough the gods might take pity on his for his ignorance and provide an answer. How could he possibly know his highest truth? The very concept of such a thing perplexed him.
Day was turning into night before Franiel finally laid down his pen. In the end his words were simple. He sighed, saddened by the thought that they would surely be a disappointment. The best I can hope for is that the Old One will see these words as nothing more than a doorway to my soul. Hrih was wise, Franiel knew this, and trusted the decision of the Old One.
It was in the hands of the gods, for surely if I can’t trust this at least, all my fine talk and learning is for nothing.
I am the driftwood
the wave carried me
I was buried in sandI am the flower
the butterfly touched me
I fell in loveI am the raindrop
the cloud released me
I became the oceanDecember 12, 2007 at 5:30 pm #590In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
The dance was very intense and though he wasn’t exhausted. He could keep on doing that forever it seemed.
Georges-Irtak ware dancing-moving swiftly and with such grace and skill in the manipulation of the body consciousness. Irtak alone wouldn’t have thought some movements he was doing were possible for a human being. His bodies seemed so elastic and so changeable.
His attention was so entranced by him-Georges that he couldn’t really feel what he was doing. He was open to himself and he was allowing the other part of himself to move his body and he was feeling in the body of him-Georges also. All that could have been so weird and overwhelming… but his previous practice with his dragon twins had been very useful. He was aware of the intense concentration of energy involved in Georges and the connections, deep and loving, with Salome were so bright and colorful.
He-Georges turned their attention to Salome and send her deep waves of love and fun. She was his lover of many focuses and of many probabilities. Whatever that could mean.
Heckle and Jeckle were suddenly turning around them and generating a mini-tornado of emerald and pink energy. This was facilitating their movements and their expansion to other dimensions.. he was feeling the veil between them thining so much… a side-step move and he would be…
Stop!
The energy feeling made him return in his body all at once. He was still aware of his dragons but his fantastic awareness was like a dim memory. How was he doing that before… This Georges seemed just familiar now, not mingle with him, though…
You wouldn’t do that now Irtak, it’s too early
Georges was smiling slyly. His amber eyes were quite hypnotic but Irtak was feeling centered now and focused in this now.
You’ll learn all that in time… but for now let’s have some cheesy cakes
December 12, 2007 at 2:41 pm #588In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
Georges and Salome’s journal
From Georges’ account of their first journey to the Alienor star system
It’s our first attempt to use the Jorid to move through dimensions. Well the trip was worth it. I enjoyed it tremendously. I felt so elastic and inside-outed…
We had already gone through the Jorid to distant locations of our own dimension, but it’s slightly different. The adjustments of the encoding part of the physical manifestation is but one part of it.Our joint focus had led us to a particularly interesting dimension. I know I have already many focuses in it as Salome has too. Maybe it was what created the draw to this dimension. We just didn’t choose to focus at the same time and space… it was our choice. We are so strongly connected that it is not important. We can reach each other awarenesses at will and communicate so fully at any moment.
It seemed to me that I already had a comprehension of the structure of this dimension. I’m not aware yet of when or how I did that but I understood that Salome wanted to take time, though time is not really relevant to describe the process of assimilation she was undergoing.I felt drawn to the Duane. I was feeling some strong resonance in the vibrations of the people of this “planet”, but it was not really a planet like our planet Earth in our dimension. I still don’t understand fully how it is created, but the shape is quite flexible, so to speak. I had chosen to manifest different qualities, relevant to my current exploration which could be translated as physical strength and sharp intellect, and a strong persuasive energy.
Physically focused I could feel Salome in the RA2 of this dimension where a part of my attention was continuously focused. She already had made contact with different beings of the Duane in their dreams, preparing my coming so to speak
but her main focus of attention was directed to the Murtuane where I had hidden a few surprises for her. I’m sure she will appreciate the attention
December 12, 2007 at 8:56 am #583In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
He was falling. At least that was his impression. Not floating, maybe because he’d expulsed all the air in his lungs.
He was feeling his attention fade out, like it was flying away from his body… or swimming away in that watery environment.It wasn’t cold. Maybe because he’d lost his sense of touch. Maybe his body was too numb for him to feel anything… Did he think about breathing? He didn’t remember how to tell his body to do it.
He was feeling good. He would think of breathing later if he remembered how to think.
December 7, 2007 at 4:24 pm #567In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
Veranassessee (V’ass) Eloha, swimming like a naiad in the waves of the sapphire sea bordering the island of Tikfijikoo, was back in a few powerful strokes on the wooden planks of the pier from which she had just fallen.
Trained in many martial arts and in the art of concealing her emotions, she effortlessly managed to maintain a perfect composure despite the fact that this unexpected moment of inattention may have cost the loss of the precious box of rare Blue Bonnet spiders —the venom of which was needed for the good success of the “treatments”.
Sharon and Gloria, still cackling unceasingly, thanked Armando, the pilot of the seaplane, who had entertained them no end with his stories of mysterious wreckages and lost aircrafts.
Now they’d just landed on this paradisaic island, and a gorgeous woman dripping in water was extending them a firm hand, greeting them.Al was wondering who had jinxed his last entry in the play, that he had to write twice, since some invisible mischievous hand had just made him lose the first in the /dev/null dimension.
Good thing the Sumafairies bent over his crib had been gifting him with a good memory…— Welcome at Tikfijikoo, where your kewlest dreams come troo.
V’ass was satisfied. Though, most of the box had been lost, she had managed to save two couples of spiders, which would be enough for the two turkeys.
As for the remaining ones, let’s just hope they’re all dead and drowned.December 6, 2007 at 7:36 pm #543In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
The bal room was ready. Malvina was looking around and decided that all was perfect now
She felt the subtle ripples of her friends energy. Sam was waiting patiently their arrival.The east wall just blurred and began to glow lightly of deep teal and emerald shades, blended in a beautiful and quite creative whirlpool.
Malvina just moved her attention on the encoding of her hair and shift slightly some hue to express a dark stary night, sparkling and full of mystery.
A thrill went through her body as she saw Georges and Salome emerge from the wall… and she burst into laughter at the sight of the marmoset which was looking at her with such a big smile
Her laugh rippled through the crystals of the cave, making their light iridescent and swinging.
— WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH! A giant disco ball
just for us.
Georges couldn’t stop laughing and began dancing as Salome was generating a peppy and swinging music… he was all jumping and swirling, and Sam was jumping all around, barking at him with joy.
— What the hell, began Leörmn but he was fascinated.
And that’s when a wavy Irtak entered the discave with his 2 dragons… they immediately changed shape and began to swirl around with Georges, and Irtak was wondering if he was dreaming or if it was another process in his discovery… he was feeling as if he was dancing as the man-Georges.
His body just started moving following the movements of Georges and they were just one.
December 6, 2007 at 6:56 pm #542In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
The old abbot Hrih, was coming back from the gardens of the Monastery, the soil dampened and muddied by the heavy rains of the season sticking to the sole of his sandals. Hrih Chokyam loved to be reacquainted with the rawness of nature, and the fluidity that the rain provided to the ground by transforming it into malleable mud.
He was bringing back vegetables for the dinner’s soup, and was amazed at the fact that even though he had felt so close to the earth, barefooted in his sandals, he had not even a drop of mud on him.
He had delayed his choice for much too long already, and the not so subtle pressing of his main confident Aum Geong to officially elect his successor was making him unquiet. He was deeply trustful of Aum Geog, and of his sincerity as a Holder of the clear Light that was being tapped into, channeled and refined by the Monastery’s spiritual endeavours.
But Hrih was feeling that Aum Geong’s views were slightly too narrow for the heavy task he was wanting him to carry on.
He was too good at creating structures and rules, and Hrih felt that even if all done in good intent, it would be taking the risk of chocking the great outburst of powerful energy that was lying at the very foundations of the Monastery.The young man that he had noticed a few hexades1 ago, though very discreet seemed bright and very dedicated to his task. He had been greeted by all, and had soon felt at home. Franiel, as he was named, was under the tutelage of Jog Lam, a very wise (albeit young) monk that Hrih had adopted some years ago as the parents had been abandoning him a young baby at the eternally opened doors of the Monastery.
Hrih had made a decision. He would not play favourites. Seeing the blank black Meditation Wall, an idea crossed his mind. He would announce at the dinner that the monks willing to do it could do a short poem of 3 stanzas where they would express their highest truth on the Meditation Wall…
1 On that part of the Duane (the planet where Mount Elok’ram is), time is divided in groups of six days or hexades, each being attributed to one of the Elder Gods: Ghört (Airs) Nærvel (Waters) Agnima (Flames) Selvaniel (Woods) Margilonia (Earths) and Lejüs (Forgotten). The names or the days are Ghordië, Narduë, Agduë, Seldië, Marduë, Shandië.
Name Element Quality Hexade Ghört Airs Male Ghordië Nærvel Waters Female Narduë Agnima Flames Female Agduë Selvaniel Woods Male Seldië Margilonia Earths Female Marduë (Shaint) Lejüs Forgotten Male Shandië December 6, 2007 at 4:34 pm #535In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
Anita woke up in a strange world. She wasn’t in the plane. Her parents were not here. She began to feel afraid but a movement in her periphery made her look on her left.
— MeoWrrrl! It’s about time Pashi, you slept for about 3 days. We had some difficulties bringing you in this safe place. But the spiders are looking for you.
— Lynxie! Where are my parents?
She woke up and hugged the Lynx.
— Wowl Wowl, they had been taken by the spiders. That was their choice. In a manner of speaking they did it so you could live. We used their loving energy to focus and take you away of all that mess.
— The spiders? What spiders? How can a spider take an adult? You mean there were a lot of them?
— Meowmm! A lot yes, and also quite huge ones. But you already know them. And…
Araili’s gaze blurred for a few seconds and Anita felt that he was accessing her energy.
— Their Elder, she knows you also, you are connected strongly. You’ll meet her in time. Meowrrrrrl
Are you hungry?
The little question distract her attention from all what she was about to ask about her parents and the situation. Yes she was quite hungry, but Lynxie said she’d been sleeping for 3 days? Her stomach was growling quite loudly.
— Yes, I think so.
Flap, flap, flap.
— Oh Owlie!
A beautiful SnOwl was bringing the breakfast. A basket with fruits and breads and all that she could have imagined for her breakfast.
— Pashi, Araili had told me you were awake, the others are coming. Rafaela is bringing your some milk
I’m sure you’ll enjoy it.
December 6, 2007 at 8:49 am #519In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
Claudio pulled himself together and bent over the dusty trunk. Of course it hadn’t opened on its own, he was imagining things. The contents were wrapped in an indigo shawl. Claudio peeled back the cloth, sneezed, and pulled out a jewelled dagger.
December 5, 2007 at 6:16 pm #508In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
Ted always felt the cold, and the saloon was freezing. He clenched his chattering teeth for as long as he could, and then could stand it no longer. He dashed outside to grab a sweater out of his saddlebag, grimacing with cold.
The Sheriff, trembling with cold, tugged at the sleeve of his sweater, and inadvertently pulled a small canvas bag out, spilling the contents all over the side of Dervish, his horse.
Hallucinogenic green frogs boinged and scattered all over the place.
Yikes! shouted Ted. This is gonna be one helluva f’kin trip now!
December 5, 2007 at 3:31 pm #1961In reply to: Scrying the Word Cloud
True focuses
Funny aspects
Badul loved mother attention,
Despite forgotten black eyes
December 3, 2007 at 9:23 pm #505In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
Sirielle looked through the crystalline window.
A humpback whale was passing by. Sirielle loved the song of the whales. Gorgean whales like this one were males, singing all during the rut to attract females miles away. Every season they would keep most of the same music, adding variations at times to the melody. This one was a sly one, Sirielle could tell. With its beautiful purulent budgeonic spots on its back, it was an old mighty male whale that she had seen already the past seasons, but its song had changed ever so slightly. It had probably plagiarized some of the most successful songs from other whales to become more attractive and that would make him a bit over the top.
At least, the females had a good parade for such insistent huge males, they could just put themselves upside down, close to the surface, so that the indelicate male could not have access to the holy of holies.
Sirielle felt so close to the whales.Today, she had noticed the first changes on her body. She was growing gills, and soon would be able to breathe underwater. She was already a proficient swimmer, from a young age, as her hands and feet had grown swimfins. But the most interesting modification wouldn’t occur before a certain age.
When she had entered the room of Crystals, she had been a bit disappointed. She had expected some great ceremony with old wizened long-bearded robed priests to operate the crystals, but there had been only a young man not much older than herself, and a distracted middle-aged woman.
The Crystals had the ability to beam some specially focused light and provoke realignment of the patterns of the body. It was like the vibration carried by the light and enhanced by the crystal would be modifying the vibrational quality of her organism, and make it change itself quite naturally from the inside.She couldn’t wait to go out in the oceanic depths and test her newly grown organs to swim with the huge cetacean.
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