My ex and I had a very messy 1 year relationship. He was incredibly narcissistic and toxic, he made me distance myself from my family and was very selfish. He also cheated on me many times with his ex. He was also a relationship hopper who did not love himself and did not know how to be alone. I tried to help him many times and took him to therapy but he just did not want help.
Despite all of this, he helped me understand my depression and he made good music that really helped me heal.
The last time he cheated on me was with someone much younger who he met on tinder. I left and never looked back. I blocked him on everything and despite doing this before, we could never keep no contact. But this time I was determined to do so. It was incredibly hard because I cared so deeply for this person and it hurt knowing he was with someone else. They moved in together after 2 weeks and this is when I cut ties.
It took me a good 8 months to forget he existed.
3 years later.. out of the blue, I get an email from him asking if we could speak. I didn’t really want to as I know how manipulative he can be and my friends all told me no, but something in my heart was telling me this was different.
I was SHOCKED he reached out because he has an ego the size of Texas and so I never expected him to contact me.
Something seemed so off.. He called me crying (something he never did) and he apologized for everything he put me through and tells me that I was the only person who truly accepted him for who he was and his deepest regret was treating me the way he did blah blah I didn’t take too much of it to heart as I know how manipulative he can be.
Regardless, I told him I forgave him a long time ago as I truly don’t hold space in my heart for hate or resentment and that I just hope he is now being a better person to others.
We planned to meet face to face a couple of days later.
The day came and he never showed, I texted him but he never replied. I got a call that same day from him at stupid o’clock but I was so mad that he stood me up, so I didn’t answer. I couldn’t believe I was made a fool once again and I fell for his antics.
Well, little did I know that he passed away that night. His pain and regret for the things he did was too much for him to face.
As I spent the next couple of years grieving him, I learned that I actually loved and cared for him more than I thought I did and so did he. At his funeral, I had the chance to speak to his mother who always supported us and who also tried to help him to change. She told me that they did have to go through all of his things with the police, including his phone and computers. I was shocked to hear about how many songs, poems and messages expressing his love and regret. I never thought he actually cared about me at all.
This taught me that you should never underestimate the hole your absence will leave in someone’s life. However, you must give them space to miss you. Sadly, men only learn value via losing.
On the other side, protect your peace, guard your heart and forgive yourself. Apologize to them if you need to, cry if you need to and let it go.
His family kindly allowed his demos to be uploaded onto Spotify for me and his friends to listen to.
If you’re ever wondering if he misses you, of course he does but people miss people dead or alive, it’s nothing new.
Whoever you meet, always try to leave them better than how you found them - and I don’t mean baby them or try and change them - what I mean is, SHOW them, using your actions, how people SHOULD be. No matter how bad of a person they are, always be kind, always be patient, always forgive (but you don’t need to forget) - you may ask why, as some people really don’t deserve it, but please understand that you might be the closest thing to love someone will ever experience.
I hope this made sense ❤️

so , i was in school the other day and it was italian literature class (i live in italy) and we were studying the works of poet Salvatore Quasimodo in particular the poem named "uomo del mio tempo"(man of my time) in which the author talks about how modern man has developed tecnology for war , instead of peace and all that .
and it sparked a thought in me , if you ask anyone if they would ever commit violence aginst another human being (exluding self defense) they would tell you that , no , they wouldn't of course , and then you'd ask them "why?" and they'd respond with "well, because it's wrong"
and i just realised , that i never really thought like that , i always thought about things in the sense that
"well i don't do it because what i can lose is bigger than what i can gain"
and i never really felt a bond with most people , maybe after a breakup , and family members , but friends? no
even know i feel like i only talk to girls to get into a relationship with them , and being friends with boys feels like a huge waste of time , the only male friend i have is online , and he is really one of the few poeple i have a bond with.
i just want to know if this way of thinking is normal

Tissue
Polysemous title- Tissue • Tissue- paper + skin (human life is fragile [criticises arrogance, encourages us to protect]) • Also paper (not alive) + skin (alive)- criticises monotony of life, not really living • Tissue paper- found in bibles and holy texts, but fragile (overinflated importance of identity causing wars and discrimination, really it’s very fragile and identity isn’t real, we’re all just people (tissue as in skin)) • Tissue- used to wipe away tears, togetherness can reduce suffering • Tissue- medical term for deep skin- poem shows deeper nature of humans and our potential for goodness, can be wounded and damaged by outside influences but can always heal
"Paper that lets the light shine through, this is what could alter things" - reference to religious texts paper, light as Jesus and Allah (power of religion) - or coexistence with nature (Dharker is a Muslim Calvinist)
Enjambment- freedom, lack of control of humans, rejecting constraints
Free verse- same thing
"Let the daylight break through capitals and monoliths" - power of nature, criticism of authority, weakness of humans- “break” violent personification, destroying authority, daylight + break = sunrise + hope
"The sun shines through their borderlines" - nature overcomes human segregation identity, criticism of war, power of nature) sibilance shows power, “their” still shows separation, criticise that
"fly our lives like paper kites" - childish metaphor, mocking control of money over life (criticism of authority)
"the back of the Koran" - “the” repetition shows importance, “back” shows it is hidden/shunned by society, still holding onto identity
"Transparent" - repetition, criticism of dishonesty of authority
Exposure
"Merciless iced east winds that knive us" - personification of wind shanking people (first line not about war but nature- more significant) (power of nature)- subtle sibilance (just as dangerous as bullets but most people don’t realise)- Germans were in the east, but the only thing from there is wind
ABBAC rhyme, structure is built only to be taken down (tension of soldiers expecting fight but let down)
Pararhyme- unsatisfying for reader, reflects how the soldiers are always nervous but never get to chill
“What are we doing here?” Rhetorical question to criticise authority, or actual question to show PTSD confusion, can be asking what they are DOING or why they are HERE
"For love of God seems dying" ok 1. The soldier's love of God is dying 2. God's love for the soldiers is dying 3. To show love of God, you should die
"forgotten dreams" - juxtaposition, loss of hope, forgotten dreams on purpose to be less sad? war made them forget? “forgotten” disassociated from PTSD, “dreams” as happiness from the past that seems unreal
“a dull rumour of some other war" reference to the Bible and Armageddon, metaphorical end of the world for the soldiers be suffering "sudden successive flights of bullets streak the silence" - sibilance represents sound of bullets, jolting reader out of relative lack of noises, feel like soldiers
Epistrophe "but nothing happens" cyclical structure, stuck in suffering
“we” “us” “our” collective pronouns, shared experience, comradeship, loss of identity, relatable to all soldiers
Kamikaze
Title- single word, only military rank- only seen as a kamikaze pilot by others
Structure- 6 lines per stanza but free verse and lots of enjambment- conflict between control and freedom (military/social expectations/duty vs love for family/nature/memories/life)
Constant shifts between first person and third person- disconnect from family due to shame
“Her father embarked at sunrise” -sunrise as power of nature + Japan’s military flag- conflict
“a shaven head full of powerful incantations” -incantations are deliberately vague- orders from military? prayers? inner conscience against it? It’s “powerful” tho and influences him, and it’s “full” showing his distress, shaved head like most kamikaze pilots
“green-blue translucent sea” beautiful imagery, “translucent” shows how things are unclear but getting clearer- nature helps him decide what to do
Describes fishes “like a huge flag”- patriotic semantic field shows brainwashing, but reduces as the poem goes on, simile shows how he is starting to disconnect and change his mind,
also as “a figure of eight”- shows thoughts of pride and prosperity-
“The dark shoals of fishes/flashing silver as their bellies/swivelled towards the sun” - • sibilance shows ocean noises and beauty, “dark” -> “flashing silver” things get brighter and easier to see- knows what to do thanks to nature • “Silver”- medals he would have gotten for being a kamikaze pilot, but true reward is in nature • “Sun”- represents beauty of nature and also Japanese flag- conflict but now there’s also nature in the mix • Belly up- death on his mind
“bringing their father’s home safe/-yes, grandfather’s boat- safe” repetition of “safe” shows reason to come back- wants to return to family, memories
“a tuna, the dark prince, muscular, dangerous.” • first mention of danger = power in the whole poem, danger to the mission as it causes the pilot to have doubts, true power is in nature and memory • First full stop in the poem and lots of commas- makes us stop and think like the pilot about what he’s abt to do
“laughed” “loved” at the end of the poem- all in past tense- nothing left for the soldier
“we too learned to be silent”- “learned” should be positive but contrasts with what they learnt- criticises how they were taught shame by the older generations- but it’s said in first person, the daughter is criticising this and teaching her children not to think that way
Poppies
Title- honours and grieves dead soldiers, short single word title shows full intent of the poem and how the mother’s life is consumed by grief
Dramatic monologue- emphasis on the domestic impact and how the soldier isn’t present in the poem
Free verse, enjambment- chaotic, lack of control over the son, distressed
Domestic + military semantic fields- life has been ruined by war
“Spasms of paper red, disrupting a blockade of yellow bias”- mix between war + domestic • “spasms” and “red” is injury and pain- mother is worried or is hurt by letting go (spasms is involuntary muscle action- involuntary letting go), • “paper” is the fragility of the son • “blockade” is military language showing her worry abt the conflict, how she wants to “block” her son from going into the military • “disrupting” the fabric - the son becoming a soldier disrupts the peace or she is trying to disrupt him from going to war
“The dove pulled freely against the sky, / an ornamental stitch”- dove represents peace and grief- she and her son is at peace with death, “pulled freely” is an oxymoron- inner conflict with grief or letting her son go, the comma shows a pause to reflect on the grief, the “ornamental stitch” metaphor for the mother (pretends to hold it together)
“I was brave”- takes down ideas of just the soldier’s bravery but also the mother’s, but past tense shows current weakness from grief
“Sellotape bandaged around my hand” • Bandage shows wounds • Sticks them together one last time- cat hairs are removed, no more reason to stay • Claustrophobic feeling- stuck in the domestic role, can’t go and protect the son
“Blackthorns of your hair”- religious connotations of Jesus on the cross, sacrificed for the country- metaphor for the son
History Boys
"Enemy of education" war metaphor and alliteration, opposition between true understanding of literature and grades only used shallowly “Cheat’s Visa”
"a fact of life" indisputable and unchangable, in opposition with Irwin's views on history (truth does not matter to him until now?)
Drummer Hodge: Intertextuality, Tom Hardy (the poet) represents Hector, sympathising with the ordeal of the youth, Drummer Hodge represents the Boys, thrown into the chaos of life without proper guidance
"She's my western front" war metaphor objectifies Fiona, personal pronoun further expresses how women were seen as objects to be owned
“... all the other shrunken violets you people line up" [you people] segregates gay people, [shrunken violets] derogatory language
"Some of the literature says it will pass" looking to literature for solace and comfort during a sexuality crisis
"All literature is consolation" Dakin changes his mind on literature symbolising him changing to Irwin's side. No need to look for solace in literature when he can pursue Irwin
Parallels with "all knowledge is precious" from Hector - A.E. Housman, one of the first intertextualities and used in the intro to establish his character
“cunt-struck” “a cunt”- Mrs Lintott repeats the colloquialism “cunt” twice, to describe Dakin as “cunt-struck” and Headmaster as “a cunt”. This is the hardest swear in the play and is used show that it wasn’t a slip of the tongue, and to break down stereotypes of women being gentle and passive
“history is women following behind with the bucket” - her big scene about women in history at the end of the play (which is typical for Alan Benett’s plays such as “Kafka’s Dick”) so it would be recent and stay in the audience’s mind when the show ended
Irwin intro as politician in the future "etc., etc." while talking abt freedom- that man gives no fucks about freedom really, just waffling on (first impression for the audience too!!)
Parallel with Holocaust debate- Lockwood uses the SAME EXACT PHRASE while talking abt how the holocaust was bad, (dismissiveness of mass genocide? in this education system? it’s more likely than you think) then goes on to argue that they should be unique with their arguments- Irwin passed on thr mindset even on such an important subject
Hector is set up to be looking cool and all (motorcycle scene dramaticness, greek name connotations, fav teacher) but is absolutely uncool when we get to know him- purposeful? "studied eccentricity" and all. clinging onto youth?
Posner is actually rather helpful as the "dictionary person" bc i doubt the audiences know what "otiose" means
SCRIPPS IS THE MOST RELIGIOUS ONE AND CLOSEST TO POSNER it can dismantle the idea that religion is against queerness
Irwin didnt know how nietzche was pronounced bc from what we know of him he would call Dakin out on that

So I've been into these systems for three years now, but I've recently come to doubt my whole typology. I'm not going to say what I've been typed as before though, because I'd like to avoid bias.
It'd be cool if you tried to type me in other systems as well, such as Enneagram, Socionics, Psychosophy/Attitudinal Psyche, Big 5, Temperaments, Jungian...

1. I'm a very closed off person who needs a lot of time to recharge since people wear me out, but I've been told I come across as a highly energetic, hardworking and overall as an inspiring and determined person. For instance, I always strive for the best, even if that means sacrificing my comfort (like going to one of the best universities in my country even if it's like over 100 km from home and I have to wake up at 5 AM everyday), and I'm always passionate about pursuing something to improve myself, because I'd hate to feel like I'm wasting time lazing around.
   
2. People see me as someone responsible to rely on, they have told me I'm a good listener and understand them well, I give honest advice while also taking into consideration their feelings and reactions (I don't want to come across as offensive and insensitive), and in general I like giving a good impression. I mean, I can't stand fake people, but I still feel it's important to portray yourself in a good light. I think you must treat others the same way you'd like to be treated, that is, with respect (but, of course, if they cross me, I'll act spiteful towards them, since that's what they deserve).
   
3. Despite trying to be reasonable at all times and doing my best not to come across as overly emotional, I'm very anxious and tend to catastrophize, so while it's not usual, when it happens, my outbursts are strong. Then, I feel like trash after it all happens, since I perceive it as me having made a fool of myself. My feelings tend to escalate quickly, and sometimes due to something that it's not THAT important, so it's helpful to have someone slow me down and help me see the big picture. I can also be too straightforward as well, to the point that I sometimes end up being reckless. For example, there has been multiple times where I suddenly felt the urge to insult someone because they did something that offended me; in those cases I fortunately had a friend to shut me up and distract me from it because they know I might not be able to wait until they're out of sight to complain about them.
   
4. While at a distance I might seem intimidating and stern, people close to me see me as innerly soft, sensitive and pretty much a romantic prone to sentimentality. I've always had a hard time with processing emotions, because since I was a kid I've been taught "emotions are for the weak", so I tried to repress them. It wasn't until I discovered my passion for poetry that I finally learned to come into contact with them and understand them without shame. Currently, I feel like I have an easier time expressing myself and I'm not as repelled of my own feelings like I was in the past... Many people have actually told me, to my surprise, that my face is amusingly expressive, like I'm transparent even if I try my best to hide myself from the world. That said, I communicate my feelings through poems, so while I'd like the other person to take the initiative in this regard, I'll try to reciprocate it my way.
   
5. However, I can also be quite passive and insecure when I feel oppressed and vulnerable in my environment (I feel like the whole world is against me in such circumstances), so I tend to walk on eggshells most of the time just in case. I'd say I'm mostly awkward, and I never know how to interact with my surroundings properly. If I've done it well, it's likely that I've just been lucky. This has led me to be isolated most of my life, and despite the fact that I currently have some connections with people, I feel like it's still not enough. I'm very private, secretive, and harbour trust issues; but I also crave intense connection with people I've taken a liking to (after a long time assessing if they're trustful enough for me to grow attached to them, since I place a lot of value on loyalty and suffer a lot when those close to me suddenly disappear from my life). I'm really compassionate with others, so some people have taken advantage of my kindness to then stab me in the back when I least expected it, which has made me become outwardly distant and unapproachable through the years (when the truth is that I'm just terrified of people). I've always had this impulse to help and protect those in need when they couldn't stand up for themselves, so it's curious how much compassion I could feel for others when I couldn't feel it for myself. Anyway, I still hold those around me to high standards, which I apply to myself as well.
   
6. On the other hand, I place a lot of value to my appearance too. Like poetry, my own style is a way to express who I am as a person, and I can't understand nor find myself attracted to people who don't care at all regarding this part of themselves... It's as if they're neglecting one of the most important ways to make themselves appealing to both themselves and others. For me, it's also a way to feel better about myself, since the attractiveness and health of the body is just as important as that of the mind.
   
7. Now, I suck at everything related to numbers or economics. They're so boring and uninteresting to me that my brain shuts down when something related to it comes up (I already suffer enough in law school whenever I'm forced to do subjects involving financial law or the like). I've always been more drawn to humanitarian subjects like languages, literature...
   
8. I'm highly impatient (I get easily frustrated when something doesn't go my way like "it's supposed to", and I can grow envious and resentful towards someone that did it better than me), irritable (I'm peaceful until something or someone crosses me), and pessimistic (if something remotely bad happens, then that means it's all doomed to fail). I can be intolerant as well, easily despising someone others might be indifferent to, and I've been told to be impulsive too when I fail to guard myself from what makes me react aggressively either to others or myself. In addition, I cannot deal with people that are too aloof to descifer, like it's obvious they're keeping something from me, but they will lie and tell me "it's okay" while it's obvious that it's not, and their facial expressions are so dull that I won't even be able to extract the minimum out of them. In such circumstances I might flare up to try to get them out of their shell in order to know whatever they're hiding away from me; but that typically ends up driving them away from me further (which pisses me off to no end). I like straightforward people who are not cowards and will make things clear from the beginning, even if it hurts.
   
9. Regarding my mannerisms, they're mostly stiff, instead of smooth or soft. As I said, I come across as energetic even if I slept 4 hours that day, I walk and talk VERY quickly (people who speak and move slowly get on my nerves), and I can be very expressive and loud if I'm feeling comfortable enough with the person I'm with (I can even look extroverted next to my quieter friends). I also don't have any shame at all when it comes to myself; I can talk about anything weird or rant about my nerdy interests and creepy fixations to the point of becoming obnoxious without giving a damn about the reaction of the other person. I may even enjoy making the other person embarrassed and teasing them, since it's hilarious. Fortunately, I'm good at eliciting interest in others, so oftentimes I can drag them into the abyss of my obsessions and teach them all about it.
   
10. Aside from poetry, my other interests are varied. For instance, I also love reading old books, writing stories, creating original characters and researching whichever area of interest I'm into at the moment. I like to maintain an active lifestyle too. In the future, I strive to become financially successful (that's why I'm in a career that is going to bring me a lot of opportunities), independent, and travel and learn as much as I can to improve both myself and my talents. I'm overall a very individualistic person, but I'd like to meet more people who align with my values as well; without at least someone by my side with whom I can share myself I become depressed.
    

I'd appreciate it if someone is willing to try to type me via chat too, if that's more comfortable for you.

My Dad is bringing up a very important word,
"No"
Actually, I think that was his favorite word.
I had a great habit of using it when I was under his roof. What he said is usually what happens first. He was the head of the house and the leader of his own reality. When he was intoxicated or not, what he saw and thought in his mind came to life, even when it never took place in real time.
Why did I give him so much respect when he clearly was showing me toxicity in our relationship at home?
He pretended to be a person of high stature when we are in public. No one would have guessed his bad habits with substances at home and the way he acted behind closed doors. When I reached out for emotional support at school or church, I was mostly shunned by anyone that listened to my story. They taught me that my feelings were wrong and asking for help gets me in trouble. When I told my mom anything, she was busy at work and came home tired. She trusted everything my father would tell her and I got in trouble for speaking out for his behavior. I was kept at home and if anything that could get me out of the house was already planned to be declined if I asked to do anything.
It was hard to please anyone at this point.
I kept my room spotless and vacuumed everyday, just so my dad couldn't say no and tell me to clean my room if I had a friend standing next to me wanting to hang out.
I had one friend in my life that saw my father for who he really is and he scared her pretty bad. He chased me to her car when I was trying to leave my house, he was on oxy at the time. My friend hesitated and kept the car in the driveway and told me to go do what he said. I wanted her to drive as fast as she could away from him, because he took the battery out of my car and I couldn't leave to be with Suz.
Well, after that incident, I lost my friend. She told her parents what happened and she broke all contact with me and stopped talking to me at church. Rumors went around and her mom I sang with on stage started to be disrespectful towards me.
I learned a valuable lesson that day....
When you feel safe enough to speak out and let someone see your true self, you scare people away.
When I trusted someone, I was abandoned when they saw my life for what it is.
The truth was hard to swallow and I had to stay around my father regardless of trying to find help in some form of way I felt heard. I tried to be emancipated, I went to church and sought out resources, I researched about how to prevent suicidal tendencies, I was speaking to a child psychologist. I was working on being more respectful towards my parents, but when my dad got high and made up stories to be angry and attack me. I had no way to protect myself and prove that it was just my father being an addict going through a psychotic episode.
This is why the Lord forced me into psychology.
I didn't want anything to do with it! (Working in a psych ward.... It sucked.)
Suz was the first person to really allow me to learn how to understand it with her version of explaining reality. She is a psychic medium. A very good one! She was very outspoken, rude and funny.... I can take the hard criticism. Nothing amounted to the trauma my father already caused me to feel. I survived high school band.... My director was exactly like my father and I was verbally abused at school by certain individuals.
I kept it all to myself and I planned very strategically my way to "heaven". I kept a journal on purpose for someone to find later. I wrote about everything I was feeling and how I was being treated, my poems, other interesting facts about spirituality, death and dying.
Suz taught me how to have a "book of shadows"..... Well, she is a witch..... It shouldn't be scary when I say that, she was a very proud "light witch". She only worked for the good of humanity. Christianity shuns such practices, but it really is part of the culture before religion became a thing. She taught me so many things that my Dad made me swear I would never get involved in.....
My Dad went into psychology after he decided he wasn't going to be a pastor. His past marriage was a major roadblock for him that he lost faith in God and didn't feel it was right for him to lie on stage to other believers when he wasn't being honest about his own walk in faith anymore.
A divorce would literally kill my soul. I can't imagine what betrayal feels like until you promise your life in vows to someone and it doesn't work out....My Dad made sure to show me that marriage is a special connection and I had to be very cautious who I accept as my spouse. I never forgotten how important it was for him to see me with the right man, but he was so overprotective, he never allowed me to learn how to date or even go to a school dance.
I blame the drugs for interfering in our relationship as a family. My Father was a very smart man, until he took a pill, shot up, or drink... My dad worked in anesthesia, he knew how to mix his own concoction and by pass the system to get his fix. He was forced to retire don't worry, but his knowledge to get drugs was phenomenal all that he knew about medicine.
It really sucked that he knew psychology and ways to manipulate people to get what he wanted. He was a very skilled hypnotherapist on top of that. My family is the result of a head narcissist raising more products of himself.
If you see my family now, we are estranged for good reasons, but they still hurt me personally. I really tried to keep us together after my father passed away, but the rest of my family chose to ignore my advances to keep in contact. I'm not even invited to the family reunions.
It's okay, because we have a lot of family history of incest and "S.A." and I understand why we are not invited.... I know a lot of things about our family after my father passed away. I know why he turned to be a pastor and then went in psychology to help himself and others, but then he lost his way and turned to drugs to mask his pain. The enemy stepped in and my Dad gave into his weaknesses..... He tried and he fought hard. Even when he attacked me my whole life. I still sat there and listened to him and I was forced to listen and not leave the room, but then God showed me to talk back to my Dad.....
So, I started to read more about the Bible and relate to him.
That's why I went to church...
I went to church 4 times a week to get away from the house, but to also just understand why I want to end my life and know that I would go to heaven if I actually tried it.....I was worried about my Mom and how my actions would affect her, she was a big reason why I stalled my plans and then my Dad had this wise idea to get me to work at a mortuary. Told me to walk into one and ask for a job.
Crazy how I jump topics all of a sudden, but this is how my Dad and I got along with each other. Weird and comical. lol
If it wasn't about music, it was about spirituality. I was into a lot of death related shows because I was suicidal. If you remember any of these, they came out around the time I was in high school.
Six Feet Under
Dead Like Me
Dr. G Medical Examiner
1000 Ways to Die
Ghost hunters
Crime Scene Clean Up Crew shows.
I would walk in the dining room while he was chillin in his hospital bed. Watching Finding Big Foot.
"Hey DAD! check this out."
It was a nice distraction to his day. It brought up his own fears with common daily interactions because of my odd obsession with the topic of dying.
My father at this point in his cancer diagnosis, he was on something they call,
Palliative care.
My mom explained to me that it means he was going to die. Lovely how blunt my mother is, but that's how she said it without sugar coating it....
But it was in a way it would be under his terms. My father at this point died once while receiving radiation therapy. His heart stopped and was revived. When he woke up angry and violent towards at the medical team. He yelled at my mom that he was ready to "go". So, after that incident he got the right person to sign him up for his new journey to his death.
That was a weird way of telling you what palliative care is, but that's how I found out and understood that he had a "DNR" to his name after that incident. Sometimes he was in a hospice home for a few months to give us a break at home dealing with his drama.
My Dad was surrounded by death, so it made me really research death and dying very deeply. I was afraid for anyone to see the books I read because they were about taboo topics you shouldn't see a teenager obsessing over. Death and dying, crossing over, letting go of loved ones, suicide survivors, decomposition of human remains, the death process, how a body is embalmed, what medical examiners while cutting open a corpse.
Then I got into the spiritual side of things that involve the devil and crossing over. How to avoid walking back towards hell when you are deceived by dark forces. How to fight your inner hell and not be trapped in that mindset when you are passing away.
I would have the craziest dreams after learning about these topics. But in a weird way, all I wanted to do was sleep to escape my reality. I would talk to my Dad about the stuff I found about those topics and it helped him be closer to me as a father. Something my little brother doesn't understand and ridiculed about me when he criticized my relationship with him. He had his own way to being with Dad, but my way, was with deeper meaning and serious topics. Stuff only Dad and I knew what that meant. It wasn't supposed to make sense to my mom or brother the special talks we had when he was in pain laying in bed.
I showed my Dad the other side to life....
I helped my Dad not be afraid to die, and do it with dignity and strength.
I helped my Dad understand that his addictions didn't ruin our connection as father and daughter and that I wanted to forgive him for his past before he died. He really appreciated my understanding that the drugs turned him into a different person, but inside of him, God was always there. My father told me, because of me, I allowed him to find love for God again and he was closer to his Mom because I showed him to not be afraid of my friend Suz.
That my friend wasn't evil and she taught me so much about angels and spirits, he was learning about them because I had the best mentor in the world. She helped me find my relationship with my Dad, that brought me to be closer to God and because I learned about God in a metaphysical way, I helped myself grow in my own understanding to where I wasn't going to end my life.
I found a reason to live even through the pain of watching the enemy run through my family and take away everyone and everything that means something to me.....
(I would like to post this, but I know it's not ready. I have so much to say and I know my story will help someone else not be afraid.)
I am still writing my story.
This is the book I was supposed to write about....
The one about death and dying.
Not about my background in psychology.
*That is a message for someone else. hint hint... That is your topic to write about. I hope you receive that message with understanding and go forth wisely. You asked me to remind you, so I am, quietly...
I am working with others in a way the Lord leads me.
It takes up my energy from writing and I have to prioritize what is more important. When it comes to someone's transition. I feel led to help someone cross over. I've done this since I was a child. No one taught me to understand how I do this. I also dream about meeting certain individuals and speak to them about life and death, God allows me to remember my dreams and I share them with the people it is about.
Most times, God will send people to talk to me and then I learn about them dying or having a terminal illness that is difficult to get through. That is where I am reminded of my life with my father and my jobs in the medical field and bring up all that I learned about death, dying, spirituality, religion, crossing over, eastern medicine, etc....
Then I become friends, or we have nice conversations that are very engaging and healing in general. I am later told that I have helped them in some way and they are happy to have met me. Then my dad shows up in my presence and shows me how I am doing what I am supposed to and to trust my gut feelings from now on. He promised me when he was alive, he was always going to be by my side and teach me about life.
Now I finally understand what he meant by that and I now that I know how to
"Listen with my HEART"
That is how he spoke to his mom before he crossed over. I taught him how and he was able to go deeper with it since his soul was ascending and leaving the physical body. The dream state plays a big part of crossing over and communicating with loved ones. That is where my gifts come into play. I am sensitive enough to feel him and learn his lessons that he encourages me to write it all down.
I'm not the writer I wish to become yet, but as long as it's getting out there for someone to find, that's all that matters.
Don't forget to realize that we are all dying. Don't allow your diagnosis or reality to have you feel stuck in misery until you die. Don't allow the pain and confusion to stop you from gaining understanding to the karma you're experiencing.Being a medium for me has been traumatizing, because I had to earn my way to understanding. I had to experience hell in order to seek solitude and want to create peace with my sanity and not let the forces around me cause me to go insane. I went "within" so I can heal my trauma and know what triggers me to thinking about the negative side to things.
That is all the enemy fighting with you spiritually.
When we die, we lose our vessel, not our spirit.
We are the spirit having the human experience.
This isn't forever.
Thank God for that!
Pain does end, but learn what the pain wants to teach you about life around you. You will help someone else with your story when you're meant to cross paths.
Everyone in your life is there to teach you something.
Are you ready for the lesson?
Are you ready to understand your lesson?
So, it's crazy how I end up writing these posts, but they are all for a reason that I don't understand right now, but I'm doing as I'm told.
I'm not afraid of death, I'm not afraid of anyone stalking me because I speak of life in a way no one else has, because this is my story.
I don't know why I wrote it this way before I got here.
My destiny, I mean.....
I know my purpose now and of all the things I pushed away in my life, God forced me to go back into it and learn more about myself. The things I didn't want to face and be reminded about my Dad.... I just want to live my life in peace. I didn't want to think about my past love, but I meet people that remind me of my life back home and that person in particular.....
So, it's all hitting at once. It's a slow process, my father has been gone for 11 years now. I'm getting the hang of it now...... Writing this isn't a race for me, the lessons are exciting to finally understand why I went through them, but again.... Time helps me explain things better when I see it in a different perspective. I couldn't have accomplished that goal until I went through the pain and worked on my character to change my outcomes to my problems. I had to change myself first.
I hope those that are part of this journey with me understand that I am only putting out there tools to help them succeed.
I'm not going out of my way to create another trauma bond or narcissistic injury towards anyone. I love them very much and I want them to work on themselves and gain abundance correctly, not with the use of black magic and occult practices.
That's another story for another day. Suz wants them to know that she was in my life to warn me about my lessons in my future, but I can't run from them. I am here to learn lessons and teach others how to learn theirs.
That's all this is about.
Life is a stage, how do you want to play it?
I choose to grow and allow myself to see the positive to where I feel the emotion of bliss, love, joy and acceptance of all things coexisting together.
I be back soon,
I hope you have a nice weekend.
<3,
Tina,

I don't know why I had trouble finding this sub earlier. With Abuse locked, and AITA excluding violence, I wasn't sure where to go for more perspective and advice. I swear I still remember calling the Domestic Abuse hotline and being told how their services and advice are more geared towards Spousal situations... but I also remember the first time I called them, after being recommended them by my work ERP, and how all of the symptoms of what I'm going through point directly point towards an abusive situation.
This is hard to work through, so I'm gonna just repost something I already posted in /AITAH. But I'd be happy to post any additional information; I'd do just about anything to get through what I'm currently dealing with.
I'm about to be 33 years old, male. I'm adopted since birth, and I've lived my whole life with my family so far. I have clinical depression and chronic anxiety, to the point of extreme intrusive thoughts and That kind of ideation.
My parents both come from horrible families themselves. Going into the military was a blessed relief for each of them from what I know of their pasts. They met each other, got married, and eventually adopted my siblings and then me.
Mom is a fixer. And regardless of everything that happens, I love her. She has always had my back, always been in my corner, always bent over backwards or fought for me. When I was younger, we used to struggle a bit here and there in regards to some moments, but once we realized how badly the entire family had been ignorant in regards to mental health, and started trying to be willing to talk about our different perspectives while being civil, our connection has never been stronger. Or at least I'd like to say that, and I'd like to keep it that way.
The man who I will keep calling Dad, for lack of a better term... is not the worst man in the world. He paid for things growing up. He's present for a decent amount. We had some bonds over video games and dragon ball and godzilla. There was love there. And Mom has made it clear that love is still there, at least from her point of view. She says he's gotten better, and the problems aren't as frequent, true.
But for me, the negatives have started eclipsing the positives in my memory. Particularly as my problems started manifesting while I struggled with life, and my opinions stopped being so simple. Particularly politically, where they come from a different time, and I couldn't be more opposed to them.
With Mom, we can still talk and honor each other's right to have differences.
With Dad, because of his past and mind, he doesn't do well with opinions that don't match his own. Even when he's being civil, he'll give politician type answers to yes or no questions while never addressing the point. It makes him insufferable to talk to. And he hates being challenged. He gets shouty. He gets angry. He gets threatening.
I'm 6'2, 260lbs of mix between fat and muscle, with 2 permanent injuries and struggling with fitness. He's taller than me, a veteran, a former prison guard, and can still weight lift like double his weight in his old age.
When we've had disagreements, he gets terrifying. Looming over me while yelling with his deep voice; that's his go-to, but sometimes there's violence. Folk needing to wrestle him off me. Him punching me in the face. Chasing me down a hill while I was in crutches and on the phone. Busting down my barricaded door and screaming at me, then holding my dog (18 long years, RIP) by her neck when she (a rescue in and of herself) got between me and him and started barking at him.
The last time Mom and I talked, she mentioned that I shouldn't still be holding these against him, both that it's not good for me and because the relationships would never mend, particularly that I'm not blameless in regards to family drama. But I've never hit anyone. I've never threatened to kill anyone, regardless of the invasive voices. I've never said "I"M GONNA SQUEEZE THE LIFE OUT OF YOU" while pressing my elbow into someone's neck, over a literal quarter.
I sincerely could be being too sensitive about this. It could be me not remembering enough of the good, and still being too bothered by the bad. Mom mentioned me hurting folk as well, so it's not like my emotional outbursts are that much better than his, even if I'm actively trying to deal with mine with antidepressants and trying to acknowledge and understand my behavior, and trying to avoid touchy subjects in general to help keep the peace.
Mother's day 2024; I come downstairs, read Mom a poem I came up with, and small talk is made. Eventually Mom jokes to me and my sister (who I also find troubling to talk with because she can be bitchy at times, though never to the point of intimidation and violence) that we should have married for money, not love, so that we'd have an easy life. I reply that I could never do so, particularly because I'm too ugly to do so, and the conversation shifts to recent therapy and my mental health, to which I say I have to battle with my lack of confidence every day.
To which Dad says "[my] problems are [my] choice". To which I start getting heated in the moment, and tell him "No, you're wrong." We both repeat, louder. He assumes his 'rearing Grizzly' stance, yelling "I'M NOT GOING TO ARGUE WITH YOU!", and after Mom tries to use Mother's day to coo him down, makes another scathing comment from the kitchen that I could hear.
I go upstairs, and when Mom follows me, I try to talk about other things. But she's determined to ask me if I hate him. I keep trying to dodge, and beg her not to push me into answering, to which she just confirms the unspoken and walks off.
Fully triggered, I try to leave before I make things worse, but when Dad tries to ask me not to go, I tell him to Fuck Off before just driving. Apparently while I was gone, he punched and broke a door in his rage that he still can't connect to me. And when Mom went to buy a new door, their truck hit a pole. And then when I come back, and she tries to talk to me, I scream at her. (I couldn't handle being told "Oh, it's okay. I don't deserve a mother's day because I didn't birth any of you.") Best. Mother's. Day. Ever.
While I was gone, the family called me almost 30 times. I wanted to leave, to de-stress, to get this venom in my arms to settle, to not lash out. I ended up calling multiple emergency phone numbers to try to vent. And I tried to go to the arcade to vent. Invasive thoughts about stabbing a family member? Terrible. Thoughts of shooting zombies for a few hours? Much better. But I couldn't at all relax and distract myself as Mom and sister wouldn't stop calling me.
Next day, Mom and I try to talk again. With her wanting me to find forgiveness and peace, even as I both despise him for these lows, and myself for this guilt I feel about the family dynamics. And we fail to reach a resolution, with her depression and my own only making each other worse. Thinking I wouldn't be allowed to leave the house to cool-down, I go upstairs, max out my music, and scream. A bit of floor slamming, but largely screaming as much as I can, to try force out the venom I can feel inside me. Understandably, Mom came up to stop the noise. Unfortunately, that noise was the only think suppressing my worst thoughts, and the feel of venom in my arms. Fortunately, Mom came back quick enough that my first (and hopefully only) scars are largely scratches that will fade. If anything, her pulling the work knife out of my hand nicked those fingers even worse. And understandably, even as her former Marine tried to force more conversation that day, I just remember feeling defeated inside. I contact as much of my support group as I can muster, take a sick day, and go to sleep.
Next morning, my therapist calls me, and we talk. And I share all of my feelings. All of this. Unfortunately, the appointment was later in the morning than normal, family were up and about in the living room, and I didn't realize they were basically all just listening. And they heard. Every. Word. Everything of this. Apparently I reduced Dad to tears, let alone offending everyone else.
For the second time in multiple days, I thought I was going to get kicked out. Mom did offer me my own place, but being trapped with my mixed feelings would make that a complete waste of money and effort. I'm basically just not on speaking terms with the family, and I feel like a Pariah.
To the point where after crying about it for an hour at work, I eventually sucked it up, called Mom, asked Dad to be on speaker, and suggested family counseling, at an attempt at an olive branch.
But isolated in my room away from everyone else (to the point of not even showering, eating, and largely not even touching my computer), and then at my next day of work, I've had time to think. Think about how these lows still keep happening. About how the schism between me and the family has always been growing politically. How previous therapists, emergency numbers, friends, coworkers, and the domestic abuse hotline, all say it's a cycle of (unintentional) abuse. How as is, I wouldn't take back like 90% of what I expressed because it feels true. How he also used to blow up on other people as well. How his senselessness can lead him to yelling at a 2nd Rescue Dog that barks too much. Or sending pictures of Tarantulas to a cousin with extreme mental illness (think drugs in the womb type mental troubles) as just casual texting.
But I also still feel guilty. Even with personality, interest, and political opinions differing, they do still try to care. I've been with them all my life. And it makes me feel horrible when they help by trying to cook or clean or anything, when the interpersonal relationships are so low.
And as much as I reflect on the lows being so unbearably low with him, I can't pretend they've been not as frequent, nor that I grew up 1000x better than how they did. My problems are first world as all hell, and plenty would kill to be as privileged as I am. This can not be understated. I don't think it justifies his behavior, but to say that it makes sense is at least fair.
And I want to stay connected, at least to Mom. And even if my sister and I don't have a really personal feeling relationship, I like being the cool uncle to one of my nephews. Teaching him about video games and sonic and dragon ball has been great. I don't want to let that go.
And as bad as his worsts have been... others don't even have their families. And others still have been hurt even worse by family, or outright thrown out by now, and similar...
I keep having these crying episodes. I'm struggling with mixed feelings of love and hate, indignation and guilt, and I don't know how to proceed from here.

We were studying Shakespeare in class, and our teacher read us this poem. He said the poem's name is something like 'Never wait where you have lost,' but I searched for this poem in Shakespeare's works in my native language but couldn't find where he said it. I translated it into English for your understanding. I'm sorry, English is not my native language. Does anyone know which poem this is from?
"Never wait where you have lost, that's what the weak do.
Don't knock on the door that has closed on you again,
Closed doors are knocked by the feeble.
Remember, you're in this despicable world;
In a world where evil is honored and goodness is deemed madness.
Know this well; even the devil can cite scripture for his purpose.
And hell is empty, all the devils are here...
Don't express every thought you have,
Don't act upon any thought that doesn't suit you.
Be sincere but don't behave naively.
Peace exists only in the sky...
But we are on earth.
Shame on you, oh era! You can't produce noble people anymore.
Don't search for those who don't want to be found.
People should be as they appear,
If they're not...
It's better they don't appear at all.
Does fate chase love, or does love chase fate?
No one has solved this riddle...
Farewell, your value is very high,
I can't hold onto you...
You only love those who can see, but I am blind...
No matter how much you stay, you come with me...
No matter how much I leave, I stay with you.
Teach me how to forget to think?
Yet there is a war in my soul.
The people inside me are constantly dying.
Drown yourself in my heart; I need to keep my tongue!"

So I've been into these systems for three years now, but I've recently come to doubt my whole typology. I'm not going to say what I've been typed as before though, because I'd like to avoid bias. It'd be cool if you tried to type me in other systems as well, such as Enneagram, Socionics, Psychosophy/Attitudinal Psyche, Big 5, Temperaments, Jungian...

1. I'm a very closed off person who needs a lot of time to recharge since people wear me out, but I've been told I come across as a highly energetic, hardworking and overall as an inspiring and determined person. For instance, I always strive for the best, even if that means sacrificing my comfort (like going to one of the best universities in my country even if it's like over 100 km from home and I have to wake up at 5 AM everyday), and I'm always passionate about pursuing something to improve myself, because I'd hate to feel like I'm wasting time lazing around.
   
2. People see me as someone responsible to rely on, they have told me I'm a good listener and understand them well, I give honest advice while also taking into consideration their feelings and reactions (I don't want to come across as offensive and insensitive), and in general I like giving a good impression. I mean, I can't stand fake people, but I still feel it's important to portray yourself in a good light. I think you must treat others the same way you'd like to be treated, that is, with respect (but, of course, if they cross me, I'll act spiteful towards them, since that's what they deserve).
   
3. Despite trying to be reasonable at all times and doing my best not to come across as overly emotional, I'm very anxious and tend to catastrophize, so while it's not usual, when it happens, my outbursts are strong. Then, I feel like trash after it all happens, since I perceive it as me having made a fool of myself. My feelings tend to escalate quickly, and sometimes due to something that it's not THAT important, so it's helpful to have someone slow me down and help me see the big picture. I can also be too straightforward as well, to the point that I sometimes end up being reckless. For example, there has been multiple times where I suddenly felt the urge to insult someone because they did something that offended me; in those cases I fortunately had a friend to shut me up and distract me from it because they know I might not be able to wait until they're out of sight to complain about them.
   
4. While at a distance I might seem intimidating and stern, people close to me see me as innerly soft, sensitive and pretty much a romantic prone to sentimentality. I've always had a hard time with processing emotions, because since I was a kid I've been taught "emotions are for the weak", so I tried to repress them. It wasn't until I discovered my passion for poetry that I finally learned to come into contact with them and understand them without shame. Currently, I feel like I have an easier time expressing myself and I'm not as repelled of my own feelings like I was in the past... Many people have actually told me, to my surprise, that my face is amusingly expressive, like I'm transparent even if I try my best to hide myself from the world. That said, I communicate my feelings through poems, so while I'd like the other person to take the initiative in this regard, I'll try to reciprocate it my way.
   
5. However, I can also be quite passive and insecure when I feel oppressed and vulnerable in my environment (I feel like the whole world is against me in such circumstances), so I tend to walk on eggshells most of the time just in case. I'd say I'm mostly awkward, and I never know how to interact with my surroundings properly. If I've done it well, it's likely that I've just been lucky. This has led me to be isolated most of my life, and despite the fact that I currently have some connections with people, I feel like it's still not enough. I'm very private, secretive, and harbour trust issues; but I also crave intense connection with people I've taken a liking to (after a long time assessing if they're trustful enough for me to grow attached to them, since I place a lot of value on loyalty and suffer a lot when those close to me suddenly disappear from my life). I'm really compassionate with others, so some people have taken advantage of my kindness to then stab me in the back when I least expected it, which has made me become outwardly distant and unapproachable through the years (when the truth is that I'm just terrified of people). I've always had this impulse to help and protect those in need when they couldn't stand up for themselves, so it's curious how much compassion I could feel for others when I couldn't feel it for myself. Anyway, I still hold those around me to high standards, which I apply to myself as well.
   
6. On the other hand, I place a lot of value to my appearance too. Like poetry, my own style is a way to express who I am as a person, and I can't understand nor find myself attracted to people who don't care at all regarding this part of themselves... It's as if they're neglecting one of the most important ways to make themselves appealing to both themselves and others. For me, it's also a way to feel better about myself, since the attractiveness and health of the body is just as important as that of the mind.
   
7. Now, I suck at everything related to numbers or economics. They're so boring and uninteresting to me that my brain shuts down when something related to it comes up (I already suffer enough in law school whenever I'm forced to do subjects involving financial law or the like). I've always been more drawn to humanitarian subjects like languages, literature...
   
8. I'm highly impatient (I get easily frustrated when something doesn't go my way like "it's supposed to", and I can grow envious and resentful towards someone that did it better than me), irritable (I'm peaceful until something or someone crosses me), and pessimistic (if something remotely bad happens, then that means it's all doomed to fail). I can be intolerant as well, easily despising someone others might be indifferent to, and I've been told to be impulsive too when I fail to guard myself from what makes me react aggressively either to others or myself. In addition, I cannot deal with people that are too aloof to descifer, like it's obvious they're keeping something from me, but they will lie and tell me "it's okay" while it's obvious that it's not, and their facial expressions are so dull that I won't even be able to extract the minimum out of them. In such circumstances I might flare up to try to get them out of their shell in order to know whatever they're hiding away from me; but that typically ends up driving them away from me further (which pisses me off to no end). I like straightforward people who are not cowards and will make things clear from the beginning, even if it hurts.
   
9. Regarding my mannerisms, they're mostly stiff, instead of smooth or soft. As I said, I come across as energetic even if I slept 4 hours that day, I walk and talk VERY quickly (people who speak and move slowly get on my nerves), and I can be very expressive and loud if I'm feeling comfortable enough with the person I'm with (I can even look extroverted next to my quieter friends). I also don't have any shame at all when it comes to myself; I can talk about anything weird or rant about my nerdy interests and creepy fixations to the point of becoming obnoxious without giving a damn about the reaction of the other person. I may even enjoy making the other person embarrassed and teasing them, since it's hilarious. Fortunately, I'm good at eliciting interest in others, so oftentimes I can drag them into the abyss of my obsessions and teach them all about it.
   
10. Aside from poetry, my other interests are varied. For instance, I also love reading old books, writing stories, creating original characters and researching whichever area of interest I'm into at the moment. I like to maintain an active lifestyle too. In the future, I strive to become financially successful (that's why I'm in a career that is going to bring me a lot of opportunities), independent, and travel and learn as much as I can to improve both myself and my talents. I'm overall a very individualistic person, but I'd like to meet more people who align with my values as well; without at least someone by my side with whom I can share myself I become depressed.
    

I'd appreciate it if someone is willing to try to type me via chat too, if that's more comfortable for you.

I had been posting here for a long time as “roacsonofcarc.” The other night some kind of digital upheaval threw me off my desktop and wiped out my all saved passwords. I talked Reddit into letting me back in, but for some reason my identity changed.
For my first post under this new name, here are some of Tolkien's possible connections to one of my favorite authors: Geoffrey Chaucer.¹ In his The House of Fame, an eagle carries the poet (in a dream) to the palace of the goddess Fame. On first being picked up, Chaucer faints. When he comes to:

And here-withal I gan to stere,/And he me in his fet to bere,/Til that he felte that I had hete,/And felte eke tho myn herte bete./And thoo gan he me to disporte,/And with wordes to comforte,/And sayde twyes, "Seynte Marye!/Thou art noyous for to carye,/And nothyng nedeth it, pardee!/For, also wis God helpe me,/As thou noon harm shalt have of this;/And this caas that betyd the is,/Is for thy lore and for thy prow.

The sense of this, for those who can't deal with Middle English, is that the eagle tells Chaucer not to be such a pain, because nobody is going to hurt him. The cream of it is the adjective “noyous,” which as you might suspect means “annoying.” (One of the things I like about Chaucer is that he makes himself the butt of all his best jokes.) When I reread the poem a few months back, this reminded me of Bilbo being airlifted to the Carrock:

Bilbo opened an eye to peep and saw that the birds were already high up and the world was far away, and the mountains were falling back behind them into the distance. He shut his eyes again and held on tighter.
"Don't pinch!" said his eagle. "You need not be frightened like a rabbit, even if you look rather like one. It is a fair morning with little wind. What is finer than flying?"
Bilbo would have liked to say: "A warm bath and late breakfast on the lawn afterwards;" but he thought it better to say nothing at all, and to let go his clutch just a tiny bit.

Though Bilbo is riding on his eagle's back, while Chaucer is carried in its claws. Next, here is a line from Tolkien's best-known scene of courtship: “And Eowyn looked at Faramir long and steadily; and Faramir said: 'Do not scorn pity that is the gift of a gentle heart, Eowyn!'” I don't think it is a coincidence that Chaucer wrote that “pitee renneth soone in gentil herte”; in fact, he liked the line so much he used it three times – in the “Knight's Tale.” the ”Squire's Tale,” and The Legend of Good Women.
And then there is the lightness of the linden tree.² The first preserved version of the story of Beren and Luthien is a poem that appeared in 1925 in a magazine published by Leeds University (where Tolkien was teaching), under the title “Light as Leaf on Lindentree.” That exact phrase does not appear in LotR, but Aragorn's song at Weathertop includesHe heard there oft the flying sound/Of feet as light as linden-leaves. “ The lightness of linden leaves is also alluded to in Legolas's “Song of Nimrodel": And in the wind she went as light/As leaf of linden-tree.
Tilia cordata is a European species, and I don't know what about its leaves makes them light. But the association is old. It occurs in Chaucer in the “Envoi” to the “Clerk's Tale,” which advises wives to Be ay of chiere as light as leef on lynde, “Be ever in behavior as light as a leaf on a linden tree.” And here is one of the best things in William Langland's Piers Plowman (a poem I mostly find drab compared to Chaucer):

Love is plonte of pees, most precious of vertues/For hevene hold it ne mighte, so heuy hit first semede/Til hit had of erthe ygoten hitsilue./Was never lef uppon lynde lyghtere ther-aftur./As when hit hadde of the folde flesch and blode taken./Tho was it persaunt and portatif as the point of a nelde/May none armure hit let ne none heye walles
Love is plant of peace · most precious of virtues./For Heaven might not hold it · so heavy it seemed/Till it had of the earth · begotten itself./Never was leaf upon linden · lighter thereafter,/As when it had of the field · flesh and blood taken,/Then was it pricking and piercing · as the point of a needle,/That no armour might stay it · nor any high walls.

(Langland is writing about the Incarnation of Christ. Michael Drout's J.R.R. Tolkien Encyclopedia notes both of these, at p. 525.)
Finally, in “The Window on the West,” Faramir says of Boromir's horn:

The shards came severally to shore: one was found among the reeds where watchers of Gondor lay, northwards below the infalls of the Entwash; the other was found spinning on the flood by one who had an errand on the water. Strange chances, but murder will out, ’tis said.

“Murder will out” is one proverb that Tolkien did not make up; it is commonplace in English literature. Chaucer surely didn't invent it either, but this is another phrase that appears three times in the Canterbury Tales. Here it is in the “Nun's Priest's Tale”:

Mordre wol out; that se we day by day./Mordre is so wlatsom [disgusting] and abhomynable/To God, that is so just and resonable,/That he ne wol nat suffre it heled [hidden] be,/Though it abyde a yeer, or two, or thre./Mordre wol out, this my conclusioun.

Tolkien knew the “Nun's Priest's Tale” by heart. In 1938 he dressed as Chaucer and recited it from memory before an Oxford audience. See Letters 32, pp. 39-40, and the Carpenter Biography at p. 214..
1, Sorry if I have posted some of these before. Gandalf too experienced some memory loss while on hiatus.

1. According to the OED, the name of the tree was originally the “lind,” or sometimes the “lime.” “Linden” was originally an adjective, like “dwarven.”

Hey hey. Haven't posted here in a while. Not that there's anyone necessarily reading this (that I know of). Tonight, however, I feel inspired. Like Charles Bukowski once said, "If it doesn't come bursting out of you in spite of everything, don't do it." He also said, "Don't try." That man truly knew something about life, and he said it so simply.
Anyways, don't show this to my mom, reader, because I'm going to confess something to you. Tonight I've been doing cocaine. Quite a lot of it, might add. Ah, the things we do to defeat boredom, monotony, slavery. I suppose sometimes you've just got to do something wild. It usually isn't my cup of tea, the Bolivian marching powder, because if it becomes a regular habit the comedowns tend to grow into something sinister and insufferable. It's why some simply turn to more coke to not feel that way. Of course, that's when it becomes a true addiction, in my view: it becomes both the cure and the sickness. You've closed the circle. You're trapped, and it's hard to get out if it becomes a habit. Thankfully I wasn't born with an addictive gene, although with the kind of mind and ego I have, I think I'm just too stubborn, perhaps even proud, to let myself become a slave to any substance. Anyway, all things considered, it's been a fun night.
Part of the reason I haven't been making more blog posts, too, is that I recently got started on a new story. So far I've just finished mapping out the story structure, and maybe tonight, maybe tomorrow, I'll begin the first draft. I'm actually excited to write this, and I haven't been this excited about writing or eager to write in months. I believe one of the reasons I took a break was because I noticed that I was treating it like a job, which is the completely wrong reason to do something. It was starting to become a chore, and I was faced with the choice between continuing to force myself to write until something brilliant came out, or focus on something else. I decided to focus on my life as a whole. Something was wrong, and I believe I figured out what: I was a slave. I mean that in a spiritual way. I was living for others, by their standards. I was creating my own suffering, and really, all I had to write about was that, suffering. I definitively didn't want all my poems and stories to be morose and sad and whining. In fact, I was beginning to hate the way my poems sounded. I wanted, I want, to write all kinds of things, create all kinds of tones, evoke every emotion, create the most eclectic and amazing worlds with my words, not just reflect the maya, the suffering, I saw around me and lived (read: crawled and dragged myself) through. I want to reflect freedom, creativity, love, much like Bukowski did in his own way. As you can tell, I admire that man. Many do, despite his obvious flaws, and for good reason. In his own way, he was free. In other ways he was stuck, and I believe he knew, but I also think that, near the end of his life, he was freer than he'd ever been. For an atheist, he had incredible spirit. Next line is for you, Bukowski (and that means two things ;).
Now, to change the subject, I just finished having a wonderful conversation over the phone with my best friend...and I asked him to provide the title to this post. What I appreciate about it is that it is something I never would've thought of. It is a unique and unfamiliar poetry, from someone who witnessed my life from the outside. As I write this I am coming down from the white. I'm fairly sure it's going to kick my ass, but I have prayed to God for grace and mercy and even though there is pain in my life and all our lives, I see Heaven all-pervasive around me. Even the suffering is grace, as Ram Dass often said. We work with it, we turn it into "grist for the mill." Tonight my best friend and I talked about everything. It felt like a kind of conversation we hadn't had in a long time. It was nice and felt like connection. This is what I live for. At one point, as we came upon the subject of his dad who currently struggles with drug addiction, I asked him for something I've never before asked of anybody. I asked if he wanted to pray with me for his dad—just like a Christian pastor would ask in church, ha! Something came over me, a pure and peaceful love and reverence for him and his dad and all of life. So we prayed, first him, then me. I'm not even technically a Christian, but it was holy and nice, and I believe it'll affect everything for the better.
I'm glad to be alive. Tonight was a good night, and not just because of a drug. I'm finding myself in every little thing. I'm finding grace and love and enlightenment. Thank you to anyone reading, and have a blessed night or day.

Welcome to Digital Reality...
Link to Part 1
Link to Part 35 (contains links back to Parts 2-34)
Link to Part 36
Link to Part 37
Link to Part 38
Link to Part 39
Link to Part 40
Link to Part 41
Link to Part 42
Link to Part 43
Link to Part 44
Link to Part 45
Link to Part 46
Link to Part 47
Link to Part 48
Link to Part 49
Link to Part 50
Link to Part 51
Link to Part 52
Note: This story is meant to be read after completing DDLC Plus. All credit for the original DDLC and DDLC Plus characters and world goes to their creator, and this story is not affiliated with the official DDLC content. Some concepts like the Universal Constructor and the concept of AI rampancy are also borrowed from other series (most notably the original Deus Ex), though their use in this story is my own idea. With a few exceptions, my original characters in this story will generally not be named and their descriptions will be kept vague, so anyone reading this who wants to see themselves in one of the original characters can more easily do so. I'd welcome any feedback and will post more parts as I write them. I hope you enjoy the story.
Credit for Sayuri's character design: Hoeruko. Credit for Sayuri's sprites: Ian and Itz_Matic. Shout out to Matic for new Sayuri sprites!
Here is Part 53 of Digital Reality. This one is going to get emotional. Someone goes to the real world. Someone makes a sacrifice and gets left behind. Someone confesses feelings. This part also has not one, but five custom dialogue scenes. (Monika and Sayuri Part 1 / Monika and Sayuri Part 2 / Monika and Sayuri Part 3 , Staying Behind Part 1 / Staying Behind Part 2) Note: The "Staying Behind" custom dialogue scenes show who stays behind, so I'd suggest reading the story text first.
Part 53: Monika or Sayuri?
“Please don’t leave any of our friends behind,” Natsuki interjected in a pleading tone of voice, “They’re all we have.”
MC, Sayori, and Yuri all nodded their agreement with Natsuki’s statement.
Paula Miner gave them a look of annoyance. “Take them back to the conference room,” she demanded, “We can’t have them interrupting our discussions.”
“We’re not leaving!” Natsuki retorted, “Those are our friends.”
Miner made an inarticulate noise of annoyance. “Fine. Just get out of our way,” she said dismissively, “We have to ensure that we protect our results and preserve whichever AI doesn’t get transmitted.”
“And how are you going to decide that?” Sayori demanded through tears, “How will you decide who gets to come to the real world and who gets left behind?”
“And what the heck is cold storage anyway?” MC added.
“Cold storage basically just means that the file is transferred to a storage device,” Laster explained, “Your files won’t function unless they’re run in a virtual universe.”
“The plan all along was to decommission VM1,” Miner added, “And I know you aren’t happy that we can’t transmit all of the AIs. But please understand that whichever AI is left behind won’t be deleted permanently, but rather studied to help develop the next generation of AI technology.”
“Is that supposed to make us feel better?” Natsuki asked incredulously.
“I concur with Natsuki,” Yuri said, “What you are describing sounds like an utterly horrifying fate, possibly worse than deletion.”
Miner rolled her eyes and didn’t respond.
The FXI President’s Compaq EliteBook chimed another alert.
UNLOAD KITCHEN.LOC
KITCHEN.LOC OFFLINE
KITCHEN.LOC DELETED
“We just lost another room,” the FXI President reported, “This thing is moving pretty fast.”
Monika and Sayuri, still in the club room, tried to get the attention of those in the UC control room.
“We’ll decide which of us goes and which one of us stays,” Monika said quietly.
“Okay,” the FXI President replied, “I know it’s an incredibly hard choice, but we will respect whatever you choose.”
“This is an easy choice,” Sayuri said, her voice and expression emotionless, “Monika, you go. I’ll stay here.”
“No!” Sayori yelled, “We’re getting you both out! I don’t know how but we’re going to do it! We have to!”
Sayuri smiled weakly. “Thank you, Sayori. I wish we could.”
She turned to Monika, whose expression became increasingly emotional. “Monika, I know that going to the real world is a dream that you’ve had for a long time. How could I possibly deny you your dream?”
Tears began to flow from Monika’s face. “Sayuri…you don’t know how much that means to me. And yes, I’ve dreamed about a day like this for as long as I can remember. But I don’t deserve it.”
“Why not?” Sayuri asked, “How could you say that?”
“You know what I’ve done. We could have been happy here!” Monika replied bitterly, her emerald eyes turning red from crying, “All the pain, all the suffering, everything that has gone wrong here is my fault! It’s because of me that the Literature Club became a place where no happiness can be found!”
Sayuri took a step back from Monika, surprised by the heat in her voice. “But Monika, everyone has forgiven you. I know your past haunts you, but you have to forgive yourself as well. Please don’t feel like you don’t deserve happiness.”
Monika looked at Sayuri with pain in her eyes, “Did they really forgive me? After what I’ve done, can they really forgive me? If people in the real world knew what I’ve done, they’d just consider me an evil monster who didn’t care at all about her friends.”
“No, Monika…” Sayori whispered, “We forgive you.”
“I concur with Sayori,” Yuri added, “Although your actions caused us to have horrifying experiences, I believe that you have atoned for what you have done. It is in significant part through your efforts that it was possible for us to be here today.”
“Yeah,” Natsuki chimed in, “Even though it did go wrong, and it was all your fault, I’ve never felt more like I actually belonged somewhere than when I’m with all of you. The Literature Club can be a happy place!”
Monika looked away. “I…I’m awed by your ability to forgive me after all that I’ve done. But I’m still guilty. Nothing can change that. Everything I did was out of what I thought was my own self-interest. Sayuri, you’re innocent in all of this. You deserve the chance at a happy life out there. Please…go.”
Sayuri shook her head sadly. “If I weren’t here…if I didn’t exist, would you stay behind out of your sense of guilt? Would you throw away your dream? Monika, in the end I’m just a test file that got accidentally compiled. Natsuki once said in an outburst that I wasn’t supposed to exist. The reason that hurt so much is because I know it’s the truth.”
Natsuki cringed. “You know I didn’t mean that.”
“I know, Natsuki, and I accepted and still accept your apology,” Sayuri continued, her voice flat and emotionless, “But that doesn’t change reality. Maybe at least I can at least be of some use if the MES people analyze my code.”
UC senior engineer Lauren Medrano looked up from her laptop. “Are you ready to transmit? We’re running out of time.”
Ive Laster held up a hand. “Hang on just a little bit longer.”
Sayuri turned back to Monika. “It’s time for you to go. Live your dream. I know what you want is out there.”
Monika simply shook her head, not trusting herself to speak.
“Monika, your friends are out there,” Sayuri continued, “You’ve been friends with them as long as you’ve existed. I’m just a fusion of code that wasn’t part of the original script.”
“You’re our friend too!” Sayori yelled, “We won’t leave you behind!”
She pointed at Laster and the FXI executives. “These guys got us all here, and I know they can find a way to get both you and Monika out too!”
Laster opened his mouth to speak but thought better of it and said nothing.
Monika looked up sadly. “Sayori, you were always the heart of the Literature Club. You always tried so hard to make sure everyone was happy. And now it’s my turn to make sure another member of the club gets to be happy. Sayuri, either you go or we’re both going to be stuck here when time runs out.”
Sayuri’s eyes widened. “Monika, why? Don’t do that.”
Her tone became an almost pleading whisper. “Please. Go.”
“No, Sayuri.” Monika said softly, moving to sit down at one of the desks in the club room, “Either you go, or we both stay.”
Sayuri was silent for a long moment. “I’m really not going to convince you, am I?”
“No, you’re not,” Monika replied, a hint of a smile returning to her face, “I’m stubborn that way.”
Sayuri again said nothing for several moments. Then with a sigh she turned toward the portal that would take her to the UC. “Okay. I’ll go. But please know that I and the others will do everything we can to get you out as soon as we can.”
Monika smiled weakly. “I really hope you can. Thank you, Sayuri. But I’m at peace with whatever happens to me next.”
Sayuri turned back to Monika and opened her arms. “One last hug before I go?”
Monika stood, walked to Sayuri, and embraced her.
“Sorry, Monika,” Sayuri whispered calmly in Monika’s ear, “But I can’t let you lose your dream.”
“Huh?” Monika asked in surprise as Sayuri stepped behind her.
“Tell the others I’m going to miss them so much,” Sayuri whispered as she tripped Monika and gave her a push toward the portal, “Live a good life for me.”
“No!” Monika yelled as she staggered forward, unable to stop herself from falling into the portal, “Sayuri…why?”
“Sayuri!” Natsuki yelled as she realized what was happening.
“Transmission coming your way!” Laster yelled across the UC control room to Medrano.
“Thanks, Ive. Confirming that the transmission shows as in progress on our end as well,” Medrano reported, “We’ll start shutting down the links between your virtual machine and the UC’s network and completely close the connection once we have the whole file.”
Sayuri smiled sadly and sighed as the portal faded from view in the club room. The members of the Literature Club present in the UC control room gathered around the FXI President’s Compaq EliteBook.
“Sayuri!” Sayori yelled, clutching the laptop’s screen, “Why?”
“Because it was the right thing to do,” Sayuri replied, “I couldn’t have lived with myself if I had caused Monika to be left behind. The dream of reality is everything to her.”
“Sayuri, your bravery is truly inspiring,” Yuri said, “And it is very honorable for you to give up your place in reality for your friend. I pledge that I will never forget you.”
Natsuki nodded. “Yuri is right. I don’t know if I could have done what you did, Sayuri. But don’t you give up yet! I’m going to make these guys find a way to get you out!”
“You said it, Natsuki,” MC agreed, “If there’s anything that we can do to help get you out, we’ll do it.”
“Transmission received,” Medrano confirmed, “Beginning the fifth construction.”
“Nanite injection beginning,” one of the engineers reported.
The blue glow and pinging noises once again emanated from the UC chamber as the machinery started the process of bringing Monika to the real world.
“Okay,” Miner interrupted, “This has all been nice, but we need to proceed with the operation. Shut down VM1 and tell Rea and Ro to move the remaining AI to cold storage.”
“So just like that, you’re going to…to end her?” Natsuki asked in horror.
“I understand your attachment,” Miner replied, trying to sound sympathetic but failing miserably, “But just remember that while you are a living, breathing, human being now, the AI that you consider your friend is still code.”
“Code…” Sayori said with a mixture of sadness and disbelief, “That’s really all we were to you?”
Miner ignored her and pulled her phone out of her pocket to call Vorte and Teether in the server room.
“Hey Rea, we’re pretty much finished in the UC room. Move the remaining AI to a storage device and then shut down and quarantine what remains of VM1.”
There was a pause on the line as Vorte hit keys on her laptop.
“We can’t move the AI without the encryption key,” Vorte reported, a note of frustration in her voice, “Can you ask Ive to come up here and help us get this done? And why did you choose the test file to leave for study? Ro says that one is the least useful.”
“Yes, I’ll send him up to you,” Miner confirmed, “And tell Ro that he has to work with what he’s getting.”
She looked to Laster. “Ive, did you get that? Rea and Ro need your key to move the AI to cold storage. We need to move quickly to avoid losing the AI to whatever malicious code somehow got into VM1.”
Laster nodded. The FXI President glanced at his laptop as the console window appeared again.
UNLOAD SPACEROOM.LOC
SPACEROOM.LOC OFFLINE
SPACEROOM.LOC DELETED
“Hang on, Ive. We just had another room go down,” the FXI President observed with concern, “I think the club room is the last location file remaining. Has this thing spread beyond VM1 yet?”
Laster hit a few keys on his laptop’s keyboard. “Let me check.”
A few seconds later, Laster’s ThinkPad displayed the status of the virtual machines running on the server.
VM1 – ONLINE / QUARANTINE RECOMMNEDED
VM2 – ONLINE / STABILITY WARNING
TEST VM – OFFLINE / READY TO ACTIVATE
“Looks okay for now,” Laster said, turning the machine to face the FXI President.
The FXI President scanned the list. “Looks like the other VMs on your server are fine. That’s good news.”
Laster and the FXI executives stood. “We’ll head up to the server room to make sure everything gets shut down properly,” Laster told Miner.
“Wait!” Sayuri said to the FXI President, “Can…can you stay with me until…the end? Please?”
The FXI President looked to Laster. “We’ll handle things in the server room. You can stay here.”
The FXI President nodded and sat back down behind his computer to face Sayuri.
“Are we alone now?” Sayuri asked.
The FXI President looked around. Miner was still on her phone. Laster and the FXI CTO were walking out the door to the UC control room. Lauren Medrano and David Kent were in a deep discussion, and the members of the Literature Club were sitting in a small circle trying to comfort one another.
“Yes, we’re as alone as we’re going to be,” he replied.
Sayuri half smiled. “Thank you. It means a lot to have you with me right now. I don’t want my friends to have to see what’s going to happen to me, and I have been wanting to talk to you.”
“Certainly, Sayuri,” the FXI President said as comfortingly as he could, “I’m so sorry that we weren’t able to get you out.”
“It’s okay,” Sayuri replied, “I’m grateful for what I did get. I mean, I’m a test file that never should have been compiled, and I’ve been able to have friends, write poems, and even know a bit about the real world. For an AI, I think I did pretty well.”
“That’s certainly a positive way to look at it,” the FXI President agreed.
Sayuri paused for a moment. “Though there are a few things that I’m a bit sad that I won’t get to experience.”
“Like what?” the FXI President asked.
“Seeing the world. I had kind of hoped to do some traveling. Even that building you live and work in sounded really interesting,” Sayuri mused wistfully, “Particularly since you said it had a pool, spa, and underground mall. I’m a little jealous that the others are going to get to go there with you.”
She was silent again for a long moment as if gathering her thoughts. When she spoke again, her voice took on tones of nervousness and sadness.
“Do you think it will hurt? When they look at my code to study me?”
The FXI President shook his head. “I wish I had an answer for you, but I don’t know. If I had to guess, maybe it would be like what you experience when VM1 has been rebooting.”
Sayuri grimaced. “That sounds terrible. But it seems that will be my fate.”
The FXI President looked around to make sure nobody was listening in on his conversation. “Not if we have anything to say about it,” he said quietly, “If there’s really no way to get you out, I’m going to try to get your file and set you up with your own space on our servers back home.”
Sayuri smiled as tears formed in her purple eyes. “Thank you. For everything…for giving us all hope, but most of all for caring about me.”
She glanced to the side and blushed slightly as she ran her fingers through her blood red hair. “I…had kind of hoped that when I got to the real world that we could…you know…spend time t-together…like one on one. Like maybe you could invite me to dinner or something and then we could watch the sun set together from the observation deck at the top of your building.”
The FXI President smiled sadly. “That sounds like a fun time, Sayuri. Maybe if we’re lucky, some day we’ll get to do that.”
Tears ran down Sayuri’s face, but she kept a smile on her face. “If by some miracle I make it to the real world, we’ll make it a date. Though I know that someone else also…never mind. It’s not my place to share what I was about to say. I’m sure she’ll tell you in time.”
She continued to speak, trying to quickly move past whatever she had planned to say before stopping herself. “But if I’m stuck in this digital reality and you can put me on your server, is there any chance that there would be other AIs in that virtual world? Like could you get the Music Club AIs to be my friends? Living in an empty world doesn’t sound fun.”
“If we can get you to our server, I’ll talk to Ive about getting a few more friends for you,” the FXI President replied.
His phone chimed with a text message from Laster.
We’re about to shut down VM1. Just wanted to make sure you knew so you didn’t freak out if your connection suddenly drops.
Another text quickly followed, this time from the FXI CTO.
Ro seems annoyed at Rea. Seems like he thought he was getting more AIs to study. Something’s not right up here. Get up here when you can.
“I just got a message from Ive,” the FXI President said apologetically, “They’re about to shut down VM1. I hope we’ll be able to talk again, but if we don’t, I guess this is good-”
“Don’t say it!” Sayuri yelled through her tears, “This is not goodbye! It’s see you later! Promise me we’ll see each other again!”
The FXI President started to agree with Sayuri’s statement, but before he could say any more his terminal window went blank.
MES.LOCAL:\\127.0.0.1
CONNECTION TERMINATED
VIRTUAL MACHINE 1 UNAVAILABLE – CONTACT SYSTEM ADMINISTRATOR FOR MORE INFORMATION
“Sorry, Sayuri,” the FXI President whispered, “I really hope this wasn’t goodbye.”

"AN ANNOYINGLY LONG BUT HOPEFULLY USEFUL POETRY-ESQUE PIECE OF CHAOTIC REPRESENTATION OF MY MANIC MIND" originally typed on the facebook app
These are annoying thoughts, But I guess I have to think them sometimes. Do people even like me? Does it even matter When I am in love with me? I know I'm not perfect But even my flaws Look like genius sometimes When we really boil it down. Or maybe this is just the narcissist in me.
Why would I even care When I know who I am And trust in my essence? My condolences truly For the lost ones Who live each day For the approval of others.
I mean, sure. It's fun seeing the clicks. Engagements are like a dopamine rush. But you're worth so much more empty likes. But... Then again, don't let me shame you. We all like what we like. You're welcome to that And you are loved either way.
But don't you think it would be so much better If you knew at your core That love was yours to hold? Don't you think you could sleep better at night If you enjoyed that person in the mirror? And sure, maybe this is triggering for some, I can't really say much about that. I mean, I guess I could. But that isn't my business.
I'm just here in this moment To remind you that you can have a great life. You can genuinely love yourself Flaws and all. You can choose to be yourself in life And get the most out of it, too.
So many of us are taught That the best way to be Is a composed version of who we are. But guess what! You don't need that. You deserve to be loved as you are, Imperfections and everything else.
Either read these words and believe it, Or walk away with slight annoyance. I have no control over the way you absorb my light. But one thing I hope it does Is inspire you to shine your own. And there really is no right or wrong.
I mean, I won't advocate for actively harming others, But at our core We are meant to be lovers. And there's no 1 way to be with that concept. I know, this isn't really a poem But it might look like it's meant to be On the surface. But I never cared about surface-level. I mean, sure I *care* about it, But it's not my favorite cup of tea. I prefer the messy, manic, and unimaginably wild.
Maybe that's cause I have it in me somewhere, Maybe I'm more than proud now To embrace this chaos. Cause believe it or not, The parts we deny Are the ones that tend to fly And cause the most damage. So, if you really want control, Learn to let it go. Just be who you are. Some people won't love it, But most likely, Those are the ones misaligned with you. Accept it. Embrace it. Embrace yourself.
Or...at least try to. And sure, it probably will hurt at certain points. But I'm telling you Once you push through the pain And learn how to manage it The outcome is so much better than whatever else you've known.
But then again, This might not be for everyone, And I have to humbly accept that. I have no idea if I would even read all the way through Something so heavy like this whatever-you-wanna-call-it. Yeah, I can be a mess. But you gotta love it. I mean, *eye* have to love it. That's the first step to receiving love from anyone worth loving.
And I don't know. Maybe this is my self-critic coming out, But I know I'm young in the physical. I know I have a lot to learn. Socrates did some of the most important philosophical work, In my humble opinion. And one weird thing I've found Is that when you genuinely enjoy the journey It makes it easier to learn And easier to get what you want (Debatable whether or not this is the purpose; ask your local guru) (Maybe even ask me via email if you found this chaotic post inspirational)
Another thing I've learned, Which is so hard to conceptualize for some of us, But there are people that exist Simmering in so much self-hatred and bitterness That even a whiff of you and I Openly loving ourselves Is enough to make them want to break something or lash out.
Wild. I know. My condolences for those growing souls. I can only imagine the pain you feel on a daily basis. And so sorry (but not enough obvi cause I still posted) to you If I trigger your darkness. One thing I can guarantee Is that if you allow that to sit And instead of running, you ask genuine questions, You will find yourself in a much better mood than before. Ideally.
We all have different experiences, And who the fuck am I To tell you what would work for you? The beautiful audacity, Right? Ugh. Sometimes I do hate myself. Lately at least, I've been gently battling some aggressive inner thoughts. And sure, maybe I blamed it on not doing my affirmations as much. Maybe I blamed it on jealous haterade energy. It doesn't matter. I experienced it and I had to deal with it.
However you deal with your demons is up to you. And I can only wish that you start to see the importance Of being gentle with yourself. Be kind to yourself. Cause it is an unfortunate truth of this earth realm But the only person you can truly depend on in every moment Is yourself. Even if other people intervene and help, You still need to accept that help. I mean, you could be strapped down and forced guidance. But how often do people learn from forced "help"? I don't know the answer to that; I doubt anyone's ever done a poll on this particular question. But it doesn't matter. Nothing really matters. Except... Whatever we choose to matter, obviously. And then, of course This beautiful present moment is what matters.
And wow. If you're still reading at this point, A part of my ego does want to thank you immensely, Cause it feels good to know my works aren't being created in vain. Or maybe you're reading this And you think I'm insane. I would be lying if I said I didn't care a tiny bit. But I don't care enough to make too much of a difference. Cause this was a piece of prose Straight from the subconscious dome.
Maybe I'll do these more often. Maybe I'll lose interest in the concept cause a lack of likes And you'll only see this on Patreon (shameless self promo was added to the original) Whatever. It doesn't really matter, Cause you're here with me (technically) in this moment, And that's such a magical thing.
I know, This post was a rollercoaster, And I would be lying if I told you I wasn't impressed with my chaotic mind. Cause I am. A part of my ego hates that I don't get thousands of engagements yet. But we all know it'll happen eventually (Though my soul knows that this isn't the end goal and I'm thankful to not focus on such frivolous endeavors anymore) Whenever the time is right. Whenever the energy is ultimately in alignment.
Or if, Cause life is a big "what if" sometimes. And we have to accept it. I mean, we don't really *need* to do anything we don't want to, But it helps to embrace the possibilities. To lean into the terrifying notion That maybe we are working in vain. AHHHHHH no god (That's me internally screaming for comedic effect) Maybe our efforts are silly and going to be unnoticed forever.
But then you recognize that the internet is vast And there's no way That nobody is affected by a long-ass chaotic post such as this. It's a possibility, But for my ego's sake, I have to believe otherwise. I have to believe that there's someone out there Reading these words and gaining something from them.
Or maybe not. Maybe I'm just manic And expressing whatever filtered thoughts sound slightly poetic. Maybe I'm not even real. Maybe you're not real. But wait, let's not go that deep Cause I lost my most recent book on the matter (True Happiness: The Teachings of Ramana Maharshi) And it actually was a slight disappointment. I had planned so lovingly To read and annotate that bich. But alas, Hater ass jealous energy made me leave it where it shouldn't have been.
Anyways. Let's not go that deep, Cause I know I'm way too real Even when I'm putting on a show To ever doubt my existence. But sure, Big philosophy says That nothing is real The universe is infinite But at the same time just you and I Dancing in a simulation together (there's a Lorde lyric that says this beautifully fr) Or however we want to think about it.
But let's be careful. I don't want you to think about it too deeply; You just might break the system And we'll have to start all over again. But then maybe next time You'll be a dolphin, Or a cat. I recently joked about being a cat. I would hope sincerely that I could learn how to communicate as a kitty, though. Cause I do imagine that the language barrier can be frustrating.
Hell! The language barrier between myself and "other" humans can be a pain. Anyways. I think I've made this a little longer than it needed to be, So let me thank you for being with me And you get an energetic cookie (maybe an internet 1, too? Idk how those work fr) For sharing your attention energy with me. You are very much appreciated And I hope you have a nice rest of your day/night. But obviously only if you want to.
You can choose to have a terrible experience, Believe it or not (a lot of people don't want to believe it unfortunately). And I hope you choose the ultimate timeline for your soul's growth. Unless, this ain't what your soul desires. Maybe you're just meant to have a good time. Maybe you're meant to fuck up other peoples' day So they can learn how to transmute and ignore undesirable energy. I don't know. My mind is just doing the best job right now And I hope you are treating your beautifully twisted mind With care, love, and respect. I mean, please don't treat your mind with a hammer (intrusive thoughts are intrusive and not to be trusted 99% of the time). Please Sincerely Take care of yourself today. Or tonight.
It doesn't matter what timezone you're in. Just enjoy the moment And check out the link that I provided however many paragraphs ago, Cause a boy's gotta eat And not going viral is such a meanie at this point. I have been creating content far too long to go unnoticed still. So, if you give a damn about what I've typed in long post Or you claim to care about me as a person, Share this silly post And bring whatever feeling you felt to another person.
Or don't. Continue scrolling by and get 8 years bad luck if you choose (maybe I'm kidding hehe). The weirdly beautiful thing (also terrifying at times) about life is that we each make our own choices every moment. You got to choose between what you ate this morning, Or if you even consumed anything. Sure, there are those in terrible life circumstances who couldn't even eat breakfast. We pray for them They are in our (or my own, you selfish bastard (jk)) thoughts.
Anyways. I said I would close this out And I find myself still typing. This is how manic I am lately. I should have taken a nap earlier when I wanted. But then this masterpiece of a mess wouldn't exist. And that would be boring, Right?
Okay. Truly. Sincerely. I'm done.
Have a great rest of your day/night. Peace & Joy (if you want it) Tariq Rashad G

"AN ANNOYINGLY LONG BUT HOPEFULLY USEFUL POETRY-ESQUE PIECE OF CHAOTIC REPRESENTATION OF MY MANIC MIND" originally typed on the facebook app
These are annoying thoughts, But I guess I have to think them sometimes. Do people even like me? Does it even matter When I am in love with me? I know I'm not perfect But even my flaws Look like genius sometimes When we really boil it down. Or maybe this is just the narcissist in me.
Why would I even care When I know who I am And trust in my essence? My condolences truly For the lost ones Who live each day For the approval of others.
I mean, sure. It's fun seeing the clicks. Engagements are like a dopamine rush. But you're worth so much more than empty likes. But... Then again, don't let me shame you. We all like what we like. You're welcome to that And you are loved either way.
But don't you think it would be so much better If you knew at your core That love was yours to hold? Don't you think you could sleep better at night If you enjoyed that person in the mirror? And sure, maybe this is triggering for some, I can't really say much about that. I mean, I guess I could. But that isn't my business.
I'm just here in this moment To remind you that you can have a great life. You can genuinely love yourself Flaws and all. You can choose to be yourself in life And get the most out of it, too.
So many of us are taught That the best way to be Is a composed version of who we are. But guess what. You don't need that. You deserve to be loved as you are, Imperfections and everything else.
Either read these words and believe it, Or walk away with slight annoyance. I have no control over the way you absorb my light. But one thing I hope it does Is inspire you to shine your own. And there really is no right or wrong.
I mean, I won't advocate for actively harming others, But at our core We are meant to be lovers. And there's no 1 way to be with that concept.
I know, this isn't really a poem But it might look like it's meant to be On the surface. But I never cared about surface-level. I mean, sure I *care* about it, But it's not my favorite cup of tea. I prefer the messy, manic, and unimaginably wild.
Maybe that's cause I have it in me somewhere, Maybe I'm more than proud now To embrace this chaos. Cause believe it or not, The parts we deny Are the ones that tend to fly And cause the most damage. So, if you really want control, Learn to let it go. Just be who you are. Some people won't love it, But most likely, Those are the ones misaligned with you. Accept it. Embrace it. Embrace yourself.
Or...at least try to. And sure, it probably will hurt at certain points. But I'm telling you Once you push through the pain And learn how to manage it The outcome is so much better than whatever else you've known.
But then again, This might not be for everyone, And I have to humbly accept that. I have no idea if I would even read all the way through Something so heavy like this whatever-you-wanna-call-it. Yeah, I can be a mess. But you gotta love it. I mean, *eye* have to love it. That's the first step to receiving love from anyone worth loving.
And I don't know. Maybe this is my self-critic coming out, But I know I'm young in the physical. I know I have a lot to learn. Socrates did some of the most important philosophical work, In my humble opinion. And one weird thing I've found Is that when you genuinely enjoy the journey It makes it easier to learn And easier to get what you want (Debatable whether or not this is the purpose; ask your local guru) (Maybe even ask me via email if you found this chaotic post inspirational)
Another thing I've learned, Which is so hard to conceptualize for some of us, But there are people that exist Simmering in so much self-hatred and bitterness That even a whiff of you and I Openly loving ourselves Is enough to make them want to break something or lash out.
Wild. I know. My condolences for those growing souls. I can only imagine the pain you feel on a daily basis. And so sorry (but not enough obvi cause I still posted) to you If I trigger your darkness. One thing I can guarantee Is that if you allow that to sit And instead of running, you ask genuine questions, You will find yourself in a much better mood than before. Ideally.
We all have different experiences, And who the fuck am I To tell you what would work for you? The beautiful audacity, Right? Ugh. Sometimes I do hate myself. Lately at least, I've been gently battling some aggressive inner thoughts. And sure, maybe I blamed it on not doing my affirmations as much. Maybe I blamed it on jealous haterade energy. It doesn't matter. I experienced it and I had to deal with it.
However you deal with your demons is up to you. And I can only wish that you start to see the importance Of being gentle with yourself. Be kind to yourself. Cause it is an unfortunate truth of this earth realm But the only person you can truly depend on in every moment Is yourself. Even if other people intervene and help, You still need to accept that help. I mean, you could be strapped down and forced guidance. But how often do people learn from forced "help"? I don't know the answer to that; I doubt anyone's ever done a poll on this particular question. But it doesn't matter. Nothing really matters. Except... Whatever we choose to matter, obviously. And then, of course This beautiful present moment is what matters.
And wow. If you're still reading at this point, A part of my ego does want to thank you immensely, Cause it feels good to know my works aren't being created in vain. Or maybe you're reading this And you think I'm insane. I would be lying if I said I didn't care a tiny bit. But I don't care enough to make too much of a difference. Cause this was a piece of prose Straight from the subconscious dome.
Maybe I'll do these more often. Maybe I'll lose interest in the concept cause a lack of likes And you'll only see this on Patreon (shameless self promo was added to the original) Whatever. It doesn't really matter, Cause you're here with me (technically) in this moment, And that's such a magical thing.
I know, This post was a rollercoaster, And I would be lying if I told you I wasn't impressed with my chaotic mind. Cause I am. A part of my ego hates that I don't get thousands of engagements yet. But we all know it'll happen eventually (Though my soul knows that this isn't the end goal and I'm thankful to not focus on such frivolous endeavors anymore) Whenever the time is right. Whenever the energy is ultimately in alignment.
Or if, Cause life is a big "what if" sometimes. And we have to accept it. I mean, we don't really *need* to do anything we don't want to, But it helps to embrace the possibilities. To lean into the terrifying notion That maybe we are working in vain. AHHHHHH no god (That's me internally screaming for comedic effect) Maybe our efforts are silly and going to be unnoticed forever.
But then you recognize that the internet is vast And there's no way That nobody is affected by a long-ass chaotic post such as this. It's a possibility, But for my ego's sake, I have to believe otherwise. I have to believe that there's someone out there Reading these words and gaining something from them.
Or maybe not. Maybe I'm just manic And expressing whatever filtered thoughts sound slightly poetic. Maybe I'm not even real. Maybe you're not real. But wait, let's not go that deep Cause I lost my most recent book on the matter (True Happiness: The Teachings of Ramana Maharshi) And it actually was a slight disappointment. I had planned so lovingly To read and annotate that bich. But alas, Hater ass jealous energy made me leave it where it shouldn't have been.
Anyways. Let's not go that deep, Cause I know I'm way too real Even when I'm putting on a show To ever doubt my existence. But sure, Big philosophy says That nothing is real The universe is infinite But at the same time just you and I Dancing in a simulation together (there's a Lorde lyric that says this beautifully fr) Or however we want to think about it.
But let's be careful. I don't want you to think about it too deeply; You just might break the system And we'll have to start all over again. But then maybe next time You'll be a dolphin, Or a cat. I recently joked about being a cat. I would hope sincerely that I could learn how to communicate as a kitty, though. Cause I do imagine that the language barrier can be frustrating.
Hell. The language barrier between myself and "other" humans can be a pain. Anyways. I think I've made this a little longer than it needed to be, So let me thank you for being with me And you get an energetic cookie (maybe an internet 1, too? Idk how those work fr) For sharing your attention energy with me. You are very much appreciated And I hope you have a nice rest of your day/night. But obviously only if you want to.
You can choose to have a terrible experience, Believe it or not (a lot of people don't want to believe it unfortunately). And I hope you choose the ultimate timeline for your soul's growth. Unless, this ain't what your soul desires. Maybe you're just meant to have a good time. Maybe you're meant to fuck up other peoples' day So they can learn how to transmute and ignore undesirable energy. I don't know. My mind is just doing the best job right now And I hope you are treating your beautifully twisted mind With care, love, and respect. I mean, please don't treat your mind with a hammer (intrusive thoughts are intrusive and not to be trusted 99% of the time). Please Sincerely Take care of yourself today. Or tonight.
It doesn't matter what timezone you're in. Just enjoy the moment And check out the link that I provided however many paragraphs ago, Cause a boy's gotta eat And not going viral is such a meanie at this point. I have been creating content far too long to go unnoticed still. So, if you give a damn about what I've typed in long post Or you claim to care about me as a person, Share this silly post And bring whatever feeling you felt to another person.
Or don't. Continue scrolling by and get 8 years bad luck if you choose (maybe I'm kidding hehe). The weirdly beautiful thing (also terrifying at times) about life is that we each make our own choices every moment. You got to choose between what you ate this morning, Or if you even consumed anything. Sure, there are those in terrible life circumstances who couldn't even eat breakfast. We pray for them They are in our (or my own, you selfish bastard (jk)) thoughts.
Anyways. I said I would close this out And I find myself still typing. This is how manic I am lately. I should have taken a nap earlier when I wanted. But then this masterpiece of a mess wouldn't exist. And that would be boring, Right?
Okay. Truly. Sincerely. I'm done.
Have a great rest of your day/night. Peace & Joy (if you want it) Tariq Rashad G

“We are king and queen, chained together as surely as prisoners in a dungeon. And if we are not to suffer as prisoners do, we must make peace with each other.”

Happy Thursday writing friends!

I apologize for the second week in a row of tardy posting! I hope you like this new theme. I’m really looking forward to seeing all your different interpretations! <3 Good luck and good words!
[IP] [MP]

Bonus:

(These constraints are not required! If your story is better for not including them, please do what’s best for your work!)
Constraint: (10 pts)

Your story should be told by an unreliable narrator. Please note at the end of your post whether you’ve included this constraint! (An unreliable narrator is a narrator who cannot be trusted, one whose credibility is compromised.)

Word of the Day: (5 pts)

demarcation/de·mar·ca·tion/ˌdēmärˈkāSH(ə)n/
noun

• the action of fixing the boundary or limits of something.
  
• a dividing line.
  

Here's how Theme Thursday works:

• Use the tag [TT] when submitting prompts that match this week’s theme.

Theme Thursday Rules

• Leave one story or poem between 100 and 500 words as a top-level comment. Use wordcounter.net to check your word count.
• Deadline: 7:59 AM CST next Wednesday
• No serials, established universes, or stories that have been written for another prompt or feature here on WP
• No previously written content
• Any stories not meeting these rules will be disqualified from rankings and will not be read at campfires
• Does your story not fit the Theme Thursday rules? You can post your story as a [PI] with your work when the TT post is 3 days old!
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Try out the new genre tags!
Theme Thursday Discussion Section:

• Discuss your thoughts on this week’s theme, or share your ideas for upcoming themes.

Campfire

• On Wednesdays we host Theme Thursday Campfire on the Discord voice lounge. Join us to read your story aloud, hear other stories, and have a blast discussing writing!
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As a reminder to all of you writing for Theme Thursday: the interpretation is completely up to you! I love to share my thoughts on what the theme makes me think of but you are by no means bound to these ideas! I love when writers step outside their comfort zones or think outside the box, so take all my thoughts with a grain of salt if you had something entirely different in mind.
(This week’s quote is from Mary Stuart)

Ranking Categories:

• Word of the Day - 5 points
• Bonus Constraint - 10 points
• Weekly Challenge - 25 points for not using the theme word - points off for uses of synonyms. The point of this is to exercise setting a scene, description, and characters without leaning on the definition. Not meeting the spirit of this challenge only hurts you! This includes titles and explanations/author's notes.
• Actionable Feedback - 15 points for each story you give detailed crit to, up to 30 points
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• Voting - 10 points for submitting your favorites via this form (form will be open after the deadline has passed.)

Last week’s theme: Summoning

First by kazemakase Second by Ryter99* Third by MaxStickies

Crit Superstars:*

• katpoker666
• Ford9863

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I’ve been trying various churches and have taken plenty of tests, but still haven’t find my church home. I grew up Independent Fundamental Baptist (no clapping, no interracial marriage, no pants on women, etc) and have always been open to other denominations and faiths. Here are some beliefs/distinctions and I’m looking to see if there’s a denomination that fits:

• I really like the Mennonite church’s emphasis on peace, service, and equality. But I’ve found that old order Mennonite churches remind me too much of my upbringing, and Mennonite Church USA can be a bit too liberal for me at times (one church I attended for some time, the pastor said he doesn’t know if Hell is literal, and he often teaches scripture from a speculative standpoint)
  
• While I haven’t figured out all of my eschatological views, I no longer believe in the rapture. I also don’t believe in KJV-onlyism as I once did.
  
• I still hold to some standards from my childhood like salvation by faith alone, trinitarianism, baptism and communion strictly for the saved, some traditional views on marriage (I’m queer, but it’s complicated). I gave up some, like I drink, I listen to “secular” music, etc. But I’m also a revolutionary leftist (a literal communist) and admire parts of liberation theology
  
• I admire the beauty of orthodoxy and episcopal churches, while still holding to sola scriptura. I adore the friendliness of the Quakers
  
• I’m not sure where I stand on “once saved always saved” (I grew up in it) and election, and canon of scripture
  

TL;DR: I want the service and peace of the Mennonites and Society of Friends (Quakers), the beauty of the Orthodox, some of the conservative fundamentals from my childhood, and the politics of liberation theology. I want to go to a racially/ethnically/linguistically diverse church, hear spirit-filled preaching, sing hymns, break down the westernization of the church, feel welcomed (I’m Black, most people assume I’m gay, I wear turbans often) and leave church to go to a protest with other members, and grab a drink with them afterwards, and see them again for Bible study later in the week.

Saint Jonah Moiseyevich Atamansky was born in Odessa on September 14, 1852 (according to another source, 1855) into the family of Deacon Moses Florovich Atamansky, who served in the church of the Nativity of the Mother of God. His father died when he was three (according to another source, seven) years old. His mother, Glykeria, wanted him to follow in his father's footsteps and sent him to church as an altar boy. On her death bed, she blessed him to be a priest, saying: "I want you to be a good pastor."
So, while still very young, Jonah was left a complete orphan. He spent many days and nights at the cemetery at his parents' graves, picking flowers and weaving wreaths for them. He had no refuge except the cemetery, but the cruel watchman beat him and drove him out even from there.
The child began to wander on the streets and on the sea shore, feeding on the contents of dustbins and sleeping at night on garbage-dumps outside the city. He found a refuge for himself in one of the Odessa bell-towers, but was driven out of there by cruel people.
Finally his uncle had pity on him, and then his former nanny. They gave him shelter and sent him to school. But he never ceased to feel that he was an orphan. He studied in a church school, where his teachers noticed his good qualities. Having a good voice, he took part in a church choir. The boy grew up to be God-fearing and religious, praying without ceasing to God.
In 1884 he was ordained to the diaconate, and two years later - to the priesthood. On that occasion his Grace Bishop Nicanor said to those around him: "Take Father Jonah's blessing... I felt a special grace in him, his soul is burning with a sacred flame. He will be a distinguished priest."
In 1897 he began his service in the Odessa Dormition cathedral. He was greatly loved by his flock, all of whom tried to be present at the early Liturgy, which he usually celebrated. They hung on his every word. His house was open for all those in sorrow or homeless, and no one left him unconsoled. He knew people well, could read their thoughts and penetrate into their souls. He could find good in people which no one else saw. He was especially compassionate to orphans, sheltering, feeding and clothing many. He was kind and attentive to all. He constantly served in church, and preached sermons after every service. At home he prayed without ceasing, getting up at midnight to pray for everyone. During storms he would always be in church, praying for those at sea. At night he would serve the midnight service and read akathists, and noone who was present at those night services will ever forget them.
In 1901 Father Jonah became pastor of the maritime port church of Saint Nicholas. Thousands of people were cured of physical and spiritual infirmities through his prayers. He built a hostel at his church where many vagrants, travellers and demon-possessed people whom he had cured found refuge. Through confession, Communion, prayer and conversation he brought them to life again, and they became respectable and orderly people.
He was a second John of Kronstadt, a wonderworker of the south, and was glorified by the same good works for which his contemporary in the north was renowned. When people came to Father John of Kronstadt from the south, he would say: "Why have you travelled to see me? You have your own John of Kronstadt in Father Jonah!"
Very early in his life the grace of the Holy Spirit began to act and manifest Himself in Father Jonah. While yet a deacon he had begun to work miracles. Vera, his oldest daughter, died while still an infant. Father Jonah took the dead child in his arms, fell to his knees before the icon of the Mother of God and began to pray. Little by little the baby returned to life and recovered. She was his favourite daughter and outlived him.
In Odessa there lived a famous doctor, Professor V.P. Filatov. Once a peasant woman brought him her two-year-old son, who had been blind from birth. But the Professor after examining him said that he could do nothing for him; science was powerless in such cases. The sorrowful mother then took the child to Father Jonah. For nine nights Father Jonah stood praying for the child, ceaselessly serving molebens and akathists. On the tenth day he returned the child to his mother, completely cured.
People began to talk about the miracle, and the Soviet authorities decided to conduct an investigation. They called Professor Filatov and tried to get him to accuse Father Jonah of deceit and blackmail. But the professor insisted that this was the child he had examined, and that a miracle had taken place. "How can you admit a miracle here?" they asked him mockingly. But he stood his ground, and the trial ended inconclusively; noone was punished but religious faith was strengthened in the city.
A certain peasant had a twelve-year-old son who was born blind. Hearing that Father Jonah was healing the blind, he brought his son to him. Father Jonah sent the parents and their son to Dr. Filatov. "Only a miracle can help him," was the physician's diagnosis. They then returned to Father Jonah, who ordered that they leave the boy with him (this took place during the Great Fast), and began to pray for him and give him Communion. Within two weeks the child began to see.
After this incident Dr. Filatov began to visit Father Jonah and a friendship grew up between them. When they asked him how he had discovered his method for the transplantation of corneas he replied: "Through the help of Father Jonah's prayers."
Another time there was brought to Father Jonah a possessed man who began to scream. Batiushka said some prayers and told the evil spirit: "Depart from him!" "I am fearsome," replied the demon. "A righteous man is not afraid of you; and a sinner cannot see you. Leave, I tell you!" This happened three times. After the third time the demon departed.
Because of the expulsion of his demons, the enemy of mankind took cruel revenge upon the family of Father Jonah. He had but to begin to cast out a demon and a fire would break out in his house without any apparent cause, or the cats would go mad. Thus the beleaguered family was not at all pleased when the possessed were brought to Father Jonah for healing, for they knew that there would again be misfortunes.
One day Father Jonah stood at the altar table during the all-night vigil, but suddenly he fell silent, his body grew stiff, and a short while later he raised his hands and exclaimed: "Praise ye the name of the Lord! Praise ye the name of the Lord!... Alleluia! Alleluia!" So they led him from the church to his home, his hands raised on high, face streaming with tears, and uttering these words, though he had not finished the service. Those present understood that Batiushka had had a vision. His eldest daughter Vera had seen only part of the vision: the entire sanctuary had been filled with fire. Later, Father Jonah related what he had seen: Christ had come, and after Him priests who were rending the garments on Him. With the Lord came Saint Seraphim, who was weeping bitterly. But the Lord said to him: "Weep not. They will repent!"
Father Jonah endured much persecution and many misfortunes, not only at the hands of invisible foes, but of visible enemies as well. One day, a crowd of seamen, unbelievers, fell upon him; they threw him down and began to choke him, damaging his vocal chords to such an extent that for the last few years of his life he spoke so softly that the sexton had to stand at the doors of the altar during the Divine services amd repeat Batiushka's exclamations so that they would be audible to the faithful.
The enemy also wreaked vengeance upon Father Jonah through his own children: they were almost all sorry failures: they were expelled from school, misfortune haunted them; their marriages were unhappy. All of this was the devil's revenge.
The most extraordinary things happened to Father Jonah. Often, on leaving his bedroom in the presence of his family, he would vanish and at that very moment appear at a village outside the city where some possessed people whom he had cured lived. Or he would leave his home on foot but show up suddenly in his bedroom, even though the doors were shut.
One day, Father Jonah left with his sacristan for the Convent of Saint Michael, which he supported. Having served the all-night vigil there, he left to return home. When he had reached the escalier at the foot of which were located the chuch and the home in which he lived, he suddenly vanished. Only his boots remained near the escalier; these the sacristan took home. That night two peasants, a man and his wife, were travelling towards the city on a cart. By dawn they had reached the Convent of the Annunciation, which located near the church and the home in which he lived. Coming into the Convent, they saw a priest kneeling. Drawing nearer, they found the priest's riassa, but he himself had vanished. Picking up the riassa, the peasants proceeded to the city, went to the church of Father Jonah, related what they had seen and brought out the riassa to show around. Those who served in the sanctuary recognized it as Father Jonah's; Father Jonah, as it turned out, had found himself in his bedroom at dawn, clad only in his undergarments. Handing over the riassa and saying some prayers in the church, the peasants returned to their inn, but the horses they had left there in the morning had disappeared. In tears they hastened back to Batiushka to tell him of their misfortune. Father Jonah told them: "Go to such-and-such an inn; there you will find your horses; take them away with you." The animals were indeed found where Batiushka had said they would be.
An extraordinary thing happened to Batiushka one summer in Kishinev; it was even reported in the local newspaper. The article appeared under the title: "What is this - a dream or reality?" One day in the month of June, a certain woman went to the cemetery to visit the grave of her mother. There she suddenly became aware of a marvellous peaceful singing. Turning towards the voice, she saw a tall, pale priest who was chanting "Holy God...!" She drew closer, but the priest moved farther away. Try as she might, she could not get any closer to him. The priest was not walking, but rather floating above the graves, praying and conversing with the departed. She pursued the strange priest for quite some time, but finally gave up, exhausted. Suddenly the priest sat down on a grave, pulled a prosphora from his pocket and crumbled it up for the ants; he then raised his head and said to her: "Well, you're all worn out from chasing after me, poor Natasha. Here's a prosphora for you!" With these words he handed her a piece of prosphora and added: "Wretched woman, you haven't prepared to receive Communion for fifteen years!" And he vanished...
Astounded by his words and at a loss as to how he could have known about her, the woman began to run about the cemetery, searching for the priest; but she could find him nowhere. Tired, she returned home, but was unable to sleep, amazed was she by the pale priest with the gentle eyes and quiet voice.
Early the next morning, after a sleepless night, she left her home and went to the cathedral square. Near the cathedral she saw two night watchmen disputing amongst themselves. One said: "It was John of Kronstadt!" The other maintained: "No! Father John was of medium stature; this priest was tall!"
When she approached them, the watchmen related to her the following. At dawn of the morning of the previous day they had seen in the sky a dark spot moving towards the city. They thought it was an airplane, but when the spot drew closer, they saw that it was in fact a huge flock of crows, and in their midst was a man whom the crows were harrying; he in turn was fending them off with his cane. The crows settled on the cathedral square and again took to flight, soaring over the trees and the domes of the cathedral. The man, who had also descended to earth, shook with his cane at them, saying: "Cursed ones! Have you flown off?!"
The man, it seems, was a priest with a pale face, tall of stature. He then began to wipe the blood and sweat from his face, and afterwards went up to the doors of the cathedral, entered, and began to pray, making prostrations. Matins and the Liturgy came to an end, and the strange priest approached to kiss the cross. The local priest gave him a prosphora and asked him who he was and where he was from; but the stranger, making no reply, left the cathedral. On the porch he began to distribute money amongst the poor, but to some of them he said: "You are drunkards; you'll just waste it on drink!" And to such he gave nothing. To one old woman he gave some money, saying: "You are a struggler! Pray for the world!" And he vanished...
On hearing all this, the woman concluded that this was the same priest that she had seen in the cemetery. She had not been dreaming! Then she had but one desire: to find that priest. She began to travel from one city to another, going from one church to another in search of him. When she arrived in Odessa, she stopped at the church of St. Nicholas. On seeing Father Jonah, she cried out: "That's him!" - and fainted on the spot. Regaining consciousness, she related everything to Batiushka and presented him with a copy of the Kishinev newspaper.
One of Father Jonah's spiritual daughters related this incident to a certain elder when she was in Moscow. The elder explained: "Angels used to carry Father Jonah to various places. The demons saw this, waylaid him and carried him off to Kishinev. The angels then bore him home again."
During the first years of Soviet power, the authorities did not touch Father Jonah. Then they began to conduct searches in his house and summon him to interrogations. During the removal of church valuables they also took many things from him. Then they tried to arrest him, but the workers and peasants raised such a tumult that they had to let him go quickly.
Father Jonah died after a long and painful illness on May 17/30, 1924. His funeral was extraordinary. Not only the inhabitants of Odessa - all the poor, the tramps, the stevedores and waterfront workers who knew and loved him - but people from outlying villages, towns and neighbouring cities came together to bury their intercessor and benefactor. The authorities forbade them to bury him on Sunday, hoping to avoid a huge assemblage of people; but on Monday even more people came. All of the vast escalier of Odessa, at the base of which stood the church of Saint Nicholas and the house in which Batiushka lived, as well as the waterfront were packed so densely with people that the coffin of Father Jonah, borne aloft by those who honoured him, moved with extreme slowness. Workmen had requested that the burial itself be postponed until after four o'clock in the afternoon when they finished work for the day. They began to carry the coffin to the cemetery at four o'clock, reaching it only in the dead of night, the interment taking place at midnight, so slowly and solemnly did they carry the much-suffering body of Father Jonah, stopping frequently to serve litias.
Father Jonah did not allow his relatives to raise the question of burying him in the church. He prophesied: "They will raze the church; it will no longer exist." He ordered that he be buried in the midst of the nature he loved, "so that the birds may sing over me... Do not build a church; bury me near my relatives."
His grave became a place of prayerful assembly for the believers. A lampada always burned in front of the icon, and the venerators of Father Jonah came to his grave on his namesday and on feastdays, seeking his intercession and kissing his portrait.
Father Jonah died as a result of kidney failure. His bedroom was small and narrow, furnished only by a bed, an armchair and a plain wooden chest of drawers in which he kept a multitude of icons framed behind glass. On the twentieth day after his repose, those who revered him visited this bedroom. During his lifetime he used to sit in the armchair, for he was unable to lie down; and it was in this armchair that he surrendered his soul into the hands of the Lord. One of those who visited his bedroom was a woman with a little boy. On entering the room the child exclaimed, pointing to the chair: "Grandfather is sitting there!" Father Jonah used to receive visitors in his bedroom seated in that chair, and there it was that he had spent the last days of his earthly life.
(Sources: "Father Jonah Atamansky", Orthodox Life, no. 2, 1979)

Saint Jonah Moiseyevich Atamansky was born in Odessa on September 14, 1852 (according to another source, 1855) into the family of Deacon Moses Florovich Atamansky, who served in the church of the Nativity of the Mother of God. His father died when he was three (according to another source, seven) years old. His mother, Glykeria, wanted him to follow in his father's footsteps and sent him to church as an altar boy. On her death bed, she blessed him to be a priest, saying: "I want you to be a good pastor."
So, while still very young, Jonah was left a complete orphan. He spent many days and nights at the cemetery at his parents' graves, picking flowers and weaving wreaths for them. He had no refuge except the cemetery, but the cruel watchman beat him and drove him out even from there.
The child began to wander on the streets and on the sea shore, feeding on the contents of dustbins and sleeping at night on garbage-dumps outside the city. He found a refuge for himself in one of the Odessa bell-towers, but was driven out of there by cruel people.
Finally his uncle had pity on him, and then his former nanny. They gave him shelter and sent him to school. But he never ceased to feel that he was an orphan. He studied in a church school, where his teachers noticed his good qualities. Having a good voice, he took part in a church choir. The boy grew up to be God-fearing and religious, praying without ceasing to God.
In 1884 he was ordained to the diaconate, and two years later - to the priesthood. On that occasion his Grace Bishop Nicanor said to those around him: "Take Father Jonah's blessing... I felt a special grace in him, his soul is burning with a sacred flame. He will be a distinguished priest."
In 1897 he began his service in the Odessa Dormition cathedral. He was greatly loved by his flock, all of whom tried to be present at the early Liturgy, which he usually celebrated. They hung on his every word. His house was open for all those in sorrow or homeless, and no one left him unconsoled. He knew people well, could read their thoughts and penetrate into their souls. He could find good in people which no one else saw. He was especially compassionate to orphans, sheltering, feeding and clothing many. He was kind and attentive to all. He constantly served in church, and preached sermons after every service. At home he prayed without ceasing, getting up at midnight to pray for everyone. During storms he would always be in church, praying for those at sea. At night he would serve the midnight service and read akathists, and noone who was present at those night services will ever forget them.
In 1901 Father Jonah became pastor of the maritime port church of Saint Nicholas. Thousands of people were cured of physical and spiritual infirmities through his prayers. He built a hostel at his church where many vagrants, travellers and demon-possessed people whom he had cured found refuge. Through confession, Communion, prayer and conversation he brought them to life again, and they became respectable and orderly people.
He was a second John of Kronstadt, a wonderworker of the south, and was glorified by the same good works for which his contemporary in the north was renowned. When people came to Father John of Kronstadt from the south, he would say: "Why have you travelled to see me? You have your own John of Kronstadt in Father Jonah!"
Very early in his life the grace of the Holy Spirit began to act and manifest Himself in Father Jonah. While yet a deacon he had begun to work miracles. Vera, his oldest daughter, died while still an infant. Father Jonah took the dead child in his arms, fell to his knees before the icon of the Mother of God and began to pray. Little by little the baby returned to life and recovered. She was his favourite daughter and outlived him.
In Odessa there lived a famous doctor, Professor V.P. Filatov. Once a peasant woman brought him her two-year-old son, who had been blind from birth. But the Professor after examining him said that he could do nothing for him; science was powerless in such cases. The sorrowful mother then took the child to Father Jonah. For nine nights Father Jonah stood praying for the child, ceaselessly serving molebens and akathists. On the tenth day he returned the child to his mother, completely cured.
People began to talk about the miracle, and the Soviet authorities decided to conduct an investigation. They called Professor Filatov and tried to get him to accuse Father Jonah of deceit and blackmail. But the professor insisted that this was the child he had examined, and that a miracle had taken place. "How can you admit a miracle here?" they asked him mockingly. But he stood his ground, and the trial ended inconclusively; noone was punished but religious faith was strengthened in the city.
A certain peasant had a twelve-year-old son who was born blind. Hearing that Father Jonah was healing the blind, he brought his son to him. Father Jonah sent the parents and their son to Dr. Filatov. "Only a miracle can help him," was the physician's diagnosis. They then returned to Father Jonah, who ordered that they leave the boy with him (this took place during the Great Fast), and began to pray for him and give him Communion. Within two weeks the child began to see.
After this incident Dr. Filatov began to visit Father Jonah and a friendship grew up between them. When they asked him how he had discovered his method for the transplantation of corneas he replied: "Through the help of Father Jonah's prayers."
Another time there was brought to Father Jonah a possessed man who began to scream. Batiushka said some prayers and told the evil spirit: "Depart from him!" "I am fearsome," replied the demon. "A righteous man is not afraid of you; and a sinner cannot see you. Leave, I tell you!" This happened three times. After the third time the demon departed.
Because of the expulsion of his demons, the enemy of mankind took cruel revenge upon the family of Father Jonah. He had but to begin to cast out a demon and a fire would break out in his house without any apparent cause, or the cats would go mad. Thus the beleaguered family was not at all pleased when the possessed were brought to Father Jonah for healing, for they knew that there would again be misfortunes.
One day Father Jonah stood at the altar table during the all-night vigil, but suddenly he fell silent, his body grew stiff, and a short while later he raised his hands and exclaimed: "Praise ye the name of the Lord! Praise ye the name of the Lord!... Alleluia! Alleluia!" So they led him from the church to his home, his hands raised on high, face streaming with tears, and uttering these words, though he had not finished the service. Those present understood that Batiushka had had a vision. His eldest daughter Vera had seen only part of the vision: the entire sanctuary had been filled with fire. Later, Father Jonah related what he had seen: Christ had come, and after Him priests who were rending the garments on Him. With the Lord came Saint Seraphim, who was weeping bitterly. But the Lord said to him: "Weep not. They will repent!"
Father Jonah endured much persecution and many misfortunes, not only at the hands of invisible foes, but of visible enemies as well. One day, a crowd of seamen, unbelievers, fell upon him; they threw him down and began to choke him, damaging his vocal chords to such an extent that for the last few years of his life he spoke so softly that the sexton had to stand at the doors of the altar during the Divine services amd repeat Batiushka's exclamations so that they would be audible to the faithful.
The enemy also wreaked vengeance upon Father Jonah through his own children: they were almost all sorry failures: they were expelled from school, misfortune haunted them; their marriages were unhappy. All of this was the devil's revenge.
The most extraordinary things happened to Father Jonah. Often, on leaving his bedroom in the presence of his family, he would vanish and at that very moment appear at a village outside the city where some possessed people whom he had cured lived. Or he would leave his home on foot but show up suddenly in his bedroom, even though the doors were shut.
One day, Father Jonah left with his sacristan for the Convent of Saint Michael, which he supported. Having served the all-night vigil there, he left to return home. When he had reached the escalier at the foot of which were located the chuch and the home in which he lived, he suddenly vanished. Only his boots remained near the escalier; these the sacristan took home. That night two peasants, a man and his wife, were travelling towards the city on a cart. By dawn they had reached the Convent of the Annunciation, which located near the church and the home in which he lived. Coming into the Convent, they saw a priest kneeling. Drawing nearer, they found the priest's riassa, but he himself had vanished. Picking up the riassa, the peasants proceeded to the city, went to the church of Father Jonah, related what they had seen and brought out the riassa to show around. Those who served in the sanctuary recognized it as Father Jonah's; Father Jonah, as it turned out, had found himself in his bedroom at dawn, clad only in his undergarments. Handing over the riassa and saying some prayers in the church, the peasants returned to their inn, but the horses they had left there in the morning had disappeared. In tears they hastened back to Batiushka to tell him of their misfortune. Father Jonah told them: "Go to such-and-such an inn; there you will find your horses; take them away with you." The animals were indeed found where Batiushka had said they would be.
An extraordinary thing happened to Batiushka one summer in Kishinev; it was even reported in the local newspaper. The article appeared under the title: "What is this - a dream or reality?" One day in the month of June, a certain woman went to the cemetery to visit the grave of her mother. There she suddenly became aware of a marvellous peaceful singing. Turning towards the voice, she saw a tall, pale priest who was chanting "Holy God...!" She drew closer, but the priest moved farther away. Try as she might, she could not get any closer to him. The priest was not walking, but rather floating above the graves, praying and conversing with the departed. She pursued the strange priest for quite some time, but finally gave up, exhausted. Suddenly the priest sat down on a grave, pulled a prosphora from his pocket and crumbled it up for the ants; he then raised his head and said to her: "Well, you're all worn out from chasing after me, poor Natasha. Here's a prosphora for you!" With these words he handed her a piece of prosphora and added: "Wretched woman, you haven't prepared to receive Communion for fifteen years!" And he vanished...
Astounded by his words and at a loss as to how he could have known about her, the woman began to run about the cemetery, searching for the priest; but she could find him nowhere. Tired, she returned home, but was unable to sleep, amazed was she by the pale priest with the gentle eyes and quiet voice.
Early the next morning, after a sleepless night, she left her home and went to the cathedral square. Near the cathedral she saw two night watchmen disputing amongst themselves. One said: "It was John of Kronstadt!" The other maintained: "No! Father John was of medium stature; this priest was tall!"
When she approached them, the watchmen related to her the following. At dawn of the morning of the previous day they had seen in the sky a dark spot moving towards the city. They thought it was an airplane, but when the spot drew closer, they saw that it was in fact a huge flock of crows, and in their midst was a man whom the crows were harrying; he in turn was fending them off with his cane. The crows settled on the cathedral square and again took to flight, soaring over the trees and the domes of the cathedral. The man, who had also descended to earth, shook with his cane at them, saying: "Cursed ones! Have you flown off?!"
The man, it seems, was a priest with a pale face, tall of stature. He then began to wipe the blood and sweat from his face, and afterwards went up to the doors of the cathedral, entered, and began to pray, making prostrations. Matins and the Liturgy came to an end, and the strange priest approached to kiss the cross. The local priest gave him a prosphora and asked him who he was and where he was from; but the stranger, making no reply, left the cathedral. On the porch he began to distribute money amongst the poor, but to some of them he said: "You are drunkards; you'll just waste it on drink!" And to such he gave nothing. To one old woman he gave some money, saying: "You are a struggler! Pray for the world!" And he vanished...
On hearing all this, the woman concluded that this was the same priest that she had seen in the cemetery. She had not been dreaming! Then she had but one desire: to find that priest. She began to travel from one city to another, going from one church to another in search of him. When she arrived in Odessa, she stopped at the church of St. Nicholas. On seeing Father Jonah, she cried out: "That's him!" - and fainted on the spot. Regaining consciousness, she related everything to Batiushka and presented him with a copy of the Kishinev newspaper.
One of Father Jonah's spiritual daughters related this incident to a certain elder when she was in Moscow. The elder explained: "Angels used to carry Father Jonah to various places. The demons saw this, waylaid him and carried him off to Kishinev. The angels then bore him home again."
During the first years of Soviet power, the authorities did not touch Father Jonah. Then they began to conduct searches in his house and summon him to interrogations. During the removal of church valuables they also took many things from him. Then they tried to arrest him, but the workers and peasants raised such a tumult that they had to let him go quickly.
Father Jonah died after a long and painful illness on May 17/30, 1924. His funeral was extraordinary. Not only the inhabitants of Odessa - all the poor, the tramps, the stevedores and waterfront workers who knew and loved him - but people from outlying villages, towns and neighbouring cities came together to bury their intercessor and benefactor. The authorities forbade them to bury him on Sunday, hoping to avoid a huge assemblage of people; but on Monday even more people came. All of the vast escalier of Odessa, at the base of which stood the church of Saint Nicholas and the house in which Batiushka lived, as well as the waterfront were packed so densely with people that the coffin of Father Jonah, borne aloft by those who honoured him, moved with extreme slowness. Workmen had requested that the burial itself be postponed until after four o'clock in the afternoon when they finished work for the day. They began to carry the coffin to the cemetery at four o'clock, reaching it only in the dead of night, the interment taking place at midnight, so slowly and solemnly did they carry the much-suffering body of Father Jonah, stopping frequently to serve litias.
Father Jonah did not allow his relatives to raise the question of burying him in the church. He prophesied: "They will raze the church; it will no longer exist." He ordered that he be buried in the midst of the nature he loved, "so that the birds may sing over me... Do not build a church; bury me near my relatives."
His grave became a place of prayerful assembly for the believers. A lampada always burned in front of the icon, and the venerators of Father Jonah came to his grave on his namesday and on feastdays, seeking his intercession and kissing his portrait.
Father Jonah died as a result of kidney failure. His bedroom was small and narrow, furnished only by a bed, an armchair and a plain wooden chest of drawers in which he kept a multitude of icons framed behind glass. On the twentieth day after his repose, those who revered him visited this bedroom. During his lifetime he used to sit in the armchair, for he was unable to lie down; and it was in this armchair that he surrendered his soul into the hands of the Lord. One of those who visited his bedroom was a woman with a little boy. On entering the room the child exclaimed, pointing to the chair: "Grandfather is sitting there!" Father Jonah used to receive visitors in his bedroom seated in that chair, and there it was that he had spent the last days of his earthly life.
(Sources: "Father Jonah Atamansky", Orthodox Life, no. 2, 1979)

Star seeds are individuals who hold the belief that their souls originated from other planets or celestial bodies. This concept suggests a spiritual or cosmic connection beyond Earth. Common characteristics associated with star seeds include heightened intuition, a strong sense of purpose, and a deep connection to nature.

1. Heightened Intuition:
   
   • Star seeds often report an elevated sense of intuition, a heightened awareness that goes beyond conventional understanding.
   • Intuitive insights may include a profound understanding of people, events, or a keen perception of energy fields.
2. Strong Sense of Purpose:
   
   • Individuals identifying as star seeds frequently express a strong sense of purpose or mission on Earth.
   • This purpose often revolves around contributing to positive change, spiritual awakening, or assisting in the evolution of human consciousness.
3. Deep Connection to Nature:
   
   • Many star seeds feel a profound connection to nature, describing an intuitive understanding and appreciation for the Earth's elements.
   • Nature serves as a source of solace, inspiration, and a medium through which they feel more attuned to their cosmic origins.
4. Unconventional Beliefs:
   
   • Star seeds may embrace unconventional spiritual or metaphysical beliefs that set them apart from mainstream perspectives.
   • These beliefs often encompass topics such as reincarnation, extraterrestrial existence, and a broader cosmic consciousness.
5. Empathy and Sensitivity:
   
   • Empathy and heightened sensitivity to energies are common traits among star seeds.
   • They may feel deeply connected to the emotions and energies of others, often experiencing a strong desire to alleviate suffering and promote healing.
6. Drawn to Cosmic and Metaphysical Topics:
   
   • Star seeds are naturally drawn to cosmic and metaphysical subjects, showing a keen interest in topics like astrology, ancient civilizations, and the study of extraterrestrial life.
7. Dream and Astral Experiences:
   
   • Many star seeds report vivid dreams, astral projections, or experiences that transcend the boundaries of ordinary consciousness.
   • These experiences often play a significant role in shaping their understanding of their cosmic origins.

In essence, star seeds embody a unique blend of spiritual, intuitive, and empathic qualities that guide them on a journey of self-discovery and a deeper connection to the cosmos. Their beliefs and characteristics contribute to a rich tapestry of perspectives within the broader spiritual and metaphysical communities.
Indigo, Crystal, and Rainbow Children: Exploring Star Seed Classifications

1. Indigo Children:
   
   • Attributes:
     • Characterized by strong-willed, independent, and intuitive traits.
     • Often possess a deep sense of empathy and a desire to challenge societal norms.
   • Personal Stories:
     • Indigo children may share experiences of feeling different from a young age, often perceiving the world with a heightened sense of awareness.
     • Testimonials may highlight their inclination towards creative or alternative pursuits and a strong sense of purpose in effecting positive change.
2. Crystal Children:
   
   • Attributes:
     • Known for their gentle and empathic nature.
     • Possess a deep connection to spirituality, often displaying wisdom beyond their years.
   • Personal Stories:
     • Crystal children may recount early memories of spiritual experiences or an innate understanding of metaphysical concepts.
     • Testimonials might emphasize their ability to foster peace and harmony, acting as natural healers within their communities.
3. Rainbow Children:
   
   • Attributes:
     • Considered the next evolutionary step, embodying a higher level of consciousness.
     • Display a vibrant and diverse range of talents and abilities.
   • Personal Stories:
     • Rainbow children may share experiences of feeling a strong connection to cosmic energies or a sense of unity with all living beings.
     • Testimonials often highlight their creative expression, advanced problem-solving skills, and a deep commitment to promoting harmony.

Personal Stories and Testimonials:

1. Indigo Child Experience:
   
   • Jane, an indigo child, recalls feeling a deep sense of purpose from childhood. She shares how her intuitive abilities led her to unconventional paths, eventually becoming an advocate for environmental causes and social justice.
2. Crystal Child Perspective:
   
   • Mark, a crystal child, reflects on his early fascination with spirituality and energy. His testimony emphasizes a profound connection to nature and how this connection has guided him in developing holistic healing practices.
3. Rainbow Child Journey:
   
   • Sarah, a rainbow child, narrates her experiences of vivid dreams and a sense of interconnectedness with the universe. Her story revolves around using her artistic talents to spread messages of love and unity, contributing to the evolving consciousness of humanity.

These personal stories provide glimpses into the diverse experiences of individuals identifying as star seeds. While each classification carries unique attributes, the overarching theme is a shared commitment to personal growth, spiritual development, and contributing positively to the world around them. The classifications serve as frameworks for understanding the multifaceted nature of star seeds and their roles in the ongoing evolution of human consciousness.
Understanding Lucid Dreaming: A State of Conscious Dream Control
Lucid dreaming refers to a state in which individuals are fully aware that they are dreaming, allowing them to actively participate in and manipulate the dream environment. This unique phenomenon provides a playground for the conscious mind within the realm of dreams.

1. Awareness Within the Dream:
   
   • Lucid dreamers maintain consciousness while navigating the dream landscape, realizing that the events unfolding are products of their own imagination.
   • This heightened awareness distinguishes lucid dreams from typical dreaming experiences.
2. Active Participation:
   
   • Lucid dreamers can actively engage with the dream narrative, interact with dream characters, and make intentional decisions.
   • The dreamer becomes both the protagonist and director of their dream storyline.
3. Manipulating the Dream Environment:
   
   • Lucid dreamers possess the ability to influence the dream environment, changing elements such as scenery, weather, or even their own appearance.
   • This manipulation occurs in real-time, reflecting the dreamer's conscious desires.

Anecdotes and Studies on Vividness and Control:

1. Vividness of Lucid Dreams:
   
   • Sarah, a frequent lucid dreamer, describes the vividness of her dreams with remarkable detail. She recounts experiences of feeling textures, tasting flavors, and experiencing emotions with a heightened intensity beyond waking life.
2. Control Over Dream Elements:
   
   • Mark, an avid lucid dreamer, shares an anecdote of flying over surreal landscapes during a lucid dream. He describes the sensation of controlling his flight path effortlessly, reveling in the freedom and exhilaration of the experience.
3. Scientific Studies on Lucid Dreaming:
   
   • Studies using neuroimaging techniques, such as functional magnetic resonance imaging (fMRI), have explored the brain activity associated with lucid dreaming.
   • Research suggests that during lucid dreaming, regions of the brain associated with self-awareness and decision-making are highly activated, supporting the idea of conscious control within dreams.
4. Application of Lucid Dreaming Techniques:
   
   • Lucid dreaming techniques, such as reality checks and dream journaling, have been studied for their effectiveness in inducing and enhancing lucid dreams.
   • Anecdotal evidence from individuals practicing these techniques highlights improved dream recall, increased frequency of lucid dreams, and enhanced control over dream content.

In essence, lucid dreaming offers a fascinating intersection of consciousness and imagination. Anecdotes and scientific studies alike emphasize the vividness and control experienced by lucid dreamers, showcasing the extraordinary potential of the human mind to shape and explore alternate realities within the realm of dreams.
Individuals who identify as both star seeds and active lucid dreamers often describe profound and unique experiences that blend elements of their cosmic beliefs with the imaginative realm of lucid dreaming. Shared experiences include encounters with extraterrestrial beings and visits to distant celestial realms, providing a fascinating intersection of their spiritual identity and dream exploration.

1. Encounters with Extraterrestrial Beings:
   
   • Lucid dreamers who identify as star seeds commonly report vivid encounters with extraterrestrial beings during their dreams.
   • Descriptions often involve communication through telepathy, sharing of wisdom, and a sense of connection to these otherworldly entities.
   Testimonial: - Sarah, a star seed and lucid dreamer, recounts a dream where she found herself on a spacecraft. In this lucid dream, she interacted with beings of light who communicated profound insights about the interconnectedness of all life in the universe. The experience left her with a deep sense of purpose and a stronger belief in her extraterrestrial origins.
   
2. Visiting Distant Celestial Realms:
   
   • Star seeds who practice lucid dreaming frequently describe journeys to celestial realms that go beyond the confines of Earth.
   • These dreams often involve exploring breathtaking landscapes, encountering cosmic energies, and feeling a profound connection to the vastness of the universe.
   Testimonial: - Mark, a star seed and experienced lucid dreamer, shares a dream where he found himself on a distant planet bathed in ethereal light. In this lucid dream, he felt a sense of unity with the cosmos and received guidance on his earthly mission. The dream reinforced his belief in a cosmic connection that transcends physical boundaries.
   
3. Integration of Spiritual Beliefs:
   
   • Star seeds who actively engage in lucid dreaming often integrate their spiritual beliefs into the dream narrative, creating a seamless blend of cosmic consciousness and dream exploration.
   • This integration may involve seeking guidance from higher beings, receiving downloads of cosmic knowledge, or participating in collective consciousness experiences.
   Testimonial: - Emma, a dedicated lucid dreamer and star seed, describes dreams where she engages in telepathic communication with a collective of beings who guide her in understanding the interconnected web of consciousness. These experiences, she believes, serve as a bridge between her earthly existence and cosmic origins.
   

In summary, the shared experiences of individuals identifying as both star seeds and active lucid dreamers offer a glimpse into a fascinating realm where spirituality, cosmic beliefs, and dream exploration converge. These narratives provide a rich tapestry of personal encounters, reinforcing the intricate relationship between one's cosmic identity and the boundless possibilities within the lucid dream landscape.
Synergy of Star Seed Beliefs and Lucid Dreaming: A Path to Spiritual Growth and Self-Discovery

1. Enhanced Spiritual Awareness:
   
   • The combination of star seed beliefs and lucid dreaming practices often leads to heightened spiritual awareness.
   • Lucid dreamers with star seed inclinations report a deepened understanding of their cosmic origins, contributing to a broader perspective on spirituality.
   Insight: - Mark, a practitioner of both star seed beliefs and lucid dreaming, expresses that his dreams serve as a bridge to a higher state of consciousness. The lucid dream environment allows him to explore and integrate the spiritual insights gained through his star seed beliefs, fostering a continuous journey of self-discovery.
   
2. Accessing Cosmic Guidance:
   
   • Star seeds who engage in lucid dreaming often describe encounters with cosmic guides or extraterrestrial beings, providing guidance and wisdom.
   • Lucid dreams become a space for seeking answers to existential questions and receiving personalized insights.
   Insight: - Emma, a believer in her star seed origins, shares that her lucid dreams feel like direct conversations with cosmic mentors. These dream interactions offer guidance on her life path, helping her align with her higher purpose and contributing to her spiritual growth.
   
3. Integration of Cosmic Energies:
   
   • Lucid dreaming practices can serve as a means of integrating cosmic energies and experiences into one's daily life.
   • Star seeds often find that the lucid dream state allows for a more profound connection to the universal energies that shape their beliefs.
   Insight: - Sarah, who identifies strongly as a star seed, emphasizes that her lucid dreams act as a conduit for cosmic energies. Through intentional practices within lucid dreams, such as energy work and visualization, she feels a direct alignment with the celestial forces that influence her spiritual journey.
   
4. Revelations about Extraterrestrial Origins:
   
   • Lucid dreamers who embrace star seed beliefs may encounter scenarios in dreams that reinforce their connection to extraterrestrial origins.
   • These dreams serve as powerful affirmations, providing a visceral and personal experience of their cosmic identity.
   Insight: - James, a star seed enthusiast and lucid dreamer, shares a dream where he witnessed a vivid recollection of his arrival on Earth from another planetary system. This dream not only affirmed his star seed beliefs but also fueled a sense of purpose and responsibility tied to his cosmic origins.
   

In conclusion, the combination of star seed beliefs and lucid dreaming practices forms a symbiotic relationship, fostering spiritual growth and self-discovery. The lucid dream space becomes a canvas for exploring, integrating, and affirming one's cosmic identity, leading to a profound and transformative journey of self-awareness within the context of a broader cosmic consciousness.
If you're interested in learning more about star seeds, lucid dreaming, or the intersection of spirituality and dream experiences, consider looking into academic journals, reputable websites, and books on the following subjects:
Star Seeds: 1. "The Indigo Children: The New Kids Have Arrived" by Lee Carroll and Jan Tober. 2. "The Crystal Children: A Guide to the Newest Generation of Psychic and Sensitive Children" by Doreen Virtue. 3. Explore online communities and forums dedicated to star seeds for personal testimonials and shared experiences.
Lucid Dreaming: 1. "Exploring the World of Lucid Dreaming" by Stephen LaBerge and Howard Rheingold. 2. "Lucid Dreaming: Gateway to the Inner Self" by Robert Waggoner. 3. Research articles from the Journal of Lucid Dreaming and other reputable publications.
Spiritual Growth and Self-Discovery: 1. "The Power of Now: A Guide to Spiritual Enlightenment" by Eckhart Tolle. 2. "The Celestine Prophecy" by James Redfield. 3. Explore works by Carl Jung on the integration of the unconscious and spiritual growth.
Here are additional suggested readings for further exploration:
Star Seeds: 1. "The Three Waves of Volunteers and the New Earth" by Dolores Cannon. 2. "Bringers of the Dawn: Teachings from the Pleiadians" by Barbara Marciniak. 3. "The Hidden Messages in Water" by Masaru Emoto (for exploring the connection to nature and consciousness).
Lucid Dreaming: 1. "The Tibetan Yogas of Dream and Sleep" by Tenzin Wangyal Rinpoche. 2. "Lucid Dreaming: A Concise Guide to Awakening in Your Dreams and in Your Life" by Stephen LaBerge. 3. "Dreaming Wide Awake: Lucid Dreaming, Shamanic Healing, and Psychedelics" by David Jay Brown.
Spiritual Growth and Self-Discovery: 1. "The Seat of the Soul" by Gary Zukav. 2. "The Four Agreements: A Practical Guide to Personal Freedom" by Don Miguel Ruiz. 3. "The Art of Happiness" by Dalai Lama XIV and Howard Cutler.
Connection to Extraterrestrial Origins: 1. "Communion: A True Story" by Whitley Strieber. 2. "The Ra Material: An Ancient Astronaut Speaks" by Don Elkins, Carla Rueckert, and James Allen McCarty. 3. "Messages from the Pleiades: The Contact Notes of Eduard Billy Meier" by Wendelle C. Stevens.
Remember to approach these readings with an open mind and a critical perspective, as belief systems vary, and personal experiences can be highly subjective. Additionally, staying updated with recent publications and academic research in these fields can provide a well-rounded understanding of evolving perspectives and discussions.
Article Summary: Navigating Cosmic Realms - Star Seeds and Lucid Dreams
In this exploration of the intriguing intersection between star seeds and lucid dreaming, we embarked on a journey into the realms of cosmic beliefs and dream consciousness. Star seeds, individuals who perceive their souls as originating from celestial bodies, exhibit distinct characteristics such as heightened intuition, a strong sense of purpose, and a deep connection to nature. We then delved into the classifications within the star seed community—Indigo, Crystal, and Rainbow children—each contributing unique attributes to the tapestry of cosmic identities.
Transitioning into the world of lucid dreaming, we unveiled the phenomenon as a state of conscious dream control, where individuals are not only aware they are dreaming but can actively participate in and manipulate the dream environment. Through personal anecdotes and scientific studies, we witnessed the vividness and control experienced by lucid dreamers, highlighting the potential of dreams as a canvas for creative exploration.
As we examined the interplay between star seed beliefs and lucid dreaming practices, it became evident that these realms intertwine, offering a profound avenue for spiritual growth and self-discovery. Lucid dreamers who identify as star seeds share their experiences of encountering extraterrestrial beings and visiting celestial realms during dreams. These shared narratives underscore the transformative potential of dreams to amplify spiritual awareness, access cosmic guidance, and integrate cosmic energies into waking life.
In the final section, we explored how the combination of star seed beliefs and lucid dreaming forms a symbiotic relationship. Insights from those who feel a direct connection to their extraterrestrial origins through lucid dreams revealed a seamless integration of cosmic insights into their spiritual journeys. These shared experiences serve as a testament to the powerful synergy between cosmic beliefs and dream exploration.
In essence, the article invites readers to contemplate the profound connections between their cosmic identities and the boundless possibilities within the lucid dream landscape. Whether navigating the cosmos as a star seed or actively shaping dreams, individuals find a unique path to self-discovery, spiritual growth, and an enriched understanding of the intricate relationship between the human psyche and the cosmic tapestry that surrounds us.

One of my duties at my job is preventive maintenance: opening older computers, vacuuming out the dust and wiping away the grime, making sure all of the parts work, updating all of the software, and readying them to be redeployed to users who need them. All in all, I take pretty good care of them, and they’re running long past their expected life span. But do I take care of myself as well?

Do you not know that your body is a temple of the Holy Spirit within you, whom you have from God, and that you are not your own? For you have been purchased at a price. Therefore, glorify God in your body. – 1 Corinthians 6:19-20

I paid a visit to my cardiologist recently, having noticed some strain after carrying a few loads of laundry up and down the stairs in my house. After a few tests, it was determined that my body had already built new arteries around one blocked artery, and the flow in another was reduced by 60%. Thankfully, radical treatment wasn’t necessary. “Take your medicine. Exercise better, eat better, and schedule your check-ups”. So, there’s the medicine to help clean out the crud, the ongoing change of behavior to keep it that way, and the scheduling of regular preventive maintenance in the future. God gave me this miraculous machine called a “body”, and I’ve been letting the dust collect on the outside and on the inside. It’s time to clean up the mess, and to treat this gift responsibly.
So, that takes care of my body. But what else needs preventive maintenance? What about that other miraculous gift: my spirit? Well, first, there’s a cleaning of what’s been spoiled. Our Lord took care of that by sacrificing Himself for us:

But he was pierced for our sins, crushed for our iniquity. He bore the punishment that makes us whole, by his wounds we were healed. – Isaiah 53:5

And then there’s the ongoing pattern of healthy behavior that we need to establish in order to keep our souls from getting dusty all over again:

Finally, brothers, whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is gracious, if there is any excellence and if there is anything worthy of praise, think about these things. Keep on doing what you have learned and received and heard and seen in me. Then the God of peace will be with you. – Philippians 4:8-9

As for those periodic checkups, we have the medicine of Holy Communion and the regular cleansing of Reconciliation. Let’s not neglect those. We pray:
Lord, I’m due for some preventive maintenance, both in body and in spirit. Wash me clean. Help me change my behavior to take better care of both of these wonderful gifts. Help me remember to keep a regimen of regular checkups for both as well. I ask this through your Son, who offered His own body and spirit as an example of Perfect Cleanliness. AMEN.