Into The Rabbit Hole

There is a certain magic about books. Books and plants. Two of my favorite things.

Plants are easier for me to describe because they are obviously living things. To me, they are creatures. They have movement, even if they are tirelessly planted in one place, with roots that anchor them in to one spot forever. They turn their faces to the sunlight just as I do. They thirst and hunger just as I do. They are breathing creatures, though they use the gases that pass from my lips as their fodder and I use the oxygen that they exhale.

They are sensitive to changes. They need love and affection. Some of them need their leaves shined and many of them respond to touch. They die in the midst of emotion, and they thrive when their atmosphere is filled with love. They enjoy music, and you can tell this by the way the perk up to the rhythmic beats pouring out of my speakers.

Have you never seen such a thing? Perhaps you should watch them sometime. It’s rather beautiful.

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Do you think that the angels who walk around parading as human would know that they are angels?

Once, long ago– seems like a million years ago– I had a close friend who suffered her extraordinarily traumatic experiences over and over again every night as she fell asleep. She was diagnosed with Post Traumatic Stress Disorder and had vivid, horrific flashbacks, and I sat through them with her night after night for almost a year. She would tell me what she was seeing, sometimes in her own voice, and sometimes in a child’s voice, reenacting the wretched things she had experienced throughout her childhood. The things that fell from her lips were the worst things I had ever heard– and in spite of the horror they evoked within me, I would lie next to her, holding her hands, protecting her from her aggressors, whispering to her, “It’s not really happening again. These are just memories.” In time, she confided to me with her child-like voice, “Ash, you are my angel who stays with me through it all. You make the bad things not so bad because I know I don’t have to go through them alone any more.”

I met an angel once.

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My note from the universe today:

“By the simple act of thinking, Ash, vortexes are created, invisible energies are applied, and circumstances begin creeping to make real what was previously just imagined. This supernatural pull of your thoughts continues long after you think them, whenever there follows intent, expectation and action; moving mountains, parting rivers, and doing the “impossible” until there is the inevitable manifestation.

This is how your “thoughts becoming things.” How they physically become things in a dimension that already exists, with billions of players and massive momentum. Not by appearing out of thin air, but through a manipulation of such forces in the unseen that literally begin shifting, morphing, and arranging all of the elements in your life so as to deliver to you the nearest equivalent of what you’ve been thinking. In other words, the “law of attraction.”

“Thoughts becoming things” explains the law of attraction. It’s why there is a law of attraction. And unlike any other 3 words in all the vocabularies of all the languages in the world, “thoughts become things” tells you exactly where you fit into the picture, as the thinker, the decision maker over what you will think about, revealing your power as a supernatural, all powerful, unlimited, CREATOR.

But, of course, many prefer not to think of themselves as so phenomenally powerful.

The Universe”

I get notes like these emailed to me every day from this website called TUT.

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And just like that… I’m done!!

*dancing on the table tops*

I honestly don’t know how I did in all of my classes. I’m sure I’ll find out, sooner rather than later. The good news is that I turned in a considerably better paper for my organic chemistry lab than I was going to. Thank you, thank you, thank you! I’d like to point out that no other laboratory classes had to write papers. But… maybe this experience is good for me now since I may be doing more of it *gasp* in my future.

My Organic Chemistry lab final was hellacious. Horrible. But I’m done with it. Now I know exactly what to expect and can be more prepared for my next semester. My final in O Chem lecture wasn’t horrible. I don’t know how I did, but there’s a probability of a C or a B in that class. Let’s keep our fingers crossed for B’s but not freak out if they’re both C’s. I doubt I was in any threat of not passing the classes, so therefore I’m going to say both O Chem classes are C’s or better. Heh. C’s. Grrrrr…. My Behavioral Neuroscience class is almost positively an A. The final wasn’t horrible, and my only weaknesses were things covered in a class I missed… one of the only classes I missed. All the rest was just recall. I loved that class. I think I’ll read that textbook again for fun. Human Development was certainly an ace, and that’s good because Psychology classes have always been such for me.

Phew. Decompression time. Today was extremely emotional for me. I had floaty highs and tearful lows. I know it’s just stress… and now it’s over. Now it’s time to just BE.

Good things are happening, though. I got a raise, I got approved for a loan, I am following my heart and dreams (both at the same time).

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Hello my friends!!!

This note is here to show my gratitude to the Universe… and to my step-dad Mike!!

Thank you SO much for my new laptop. It’s magnificent!!! It’s a sweet, amazing, schmokin fantastic laptop. I am SOOOO excited about this! My education is going to benefit from this in a plethora of ways. I can hardly believe how perfect this is. Yesh… it’s wonderful!

Makes me wonder… what should I manifest next??

Feel free to leave me your suggestions.

I see money flowing easily.

I see myself doing the best job I can do on my finals.

I see myself being prepared and comfortable throughout the holidays.

As I mentioned in a post yesterday, I have been in the mood for ooey gooey yummy brownies. As a “test” to my ability to manifest what I want, I have been putting out into the world my intentions that I will have some ooey gooey brownies. I don’t know how… but I will have them.

So, yesterday, I doctor I don’t know gave me a sugar cookie. I thought, hey, well, this is close at least. Not quite what I wanted… but close. “Keep focused on those brownies, my girl,” I said to myself.

This morning, while heating up my oatmeal in the employee breakroom, I found itty bitty brownie bites, sitting on the counter– shared by everyone. I have no idea who put them there, but when they’re set out on the counter, it is an invitation for all.

Now, these itty bitty brownie bites are wonderful. They’re not quite what I was wanting, but they’re much closer than the sugar cookie. I will keep thinking ooey gooey yummy brownies, and I can assure you that in no time at all I will be back on this “write post” page to tell you about it.

In the mean time, I’m enjoying my itty bitty brownie bites. Close, very close. *grin*

There is something changing within me, something beautiful, something new and different and… timeless.  I am Becoming.

I have discovered the idea of an afterlife, and a pre-life, and all of the infinite amount of life in between.  I am realizing that this life is a canvas and I, as a conscious being, am the artist.  I am able to write whatever story I choose to on my canvas, and can paint ANYthing I so desire.

In my possession has always been a great library.  This library, filled with ideas both great and small, in every color, has been sitting at my fingertips this entire time, and I have been too busy to notice.  I have found the library.  I’ve taken note.

Many of my books are from Ann Monday.  She gave me bags and bags full of metaphysical books; she says they were outdated.  Perhaps the prophesies were never fulfilled.  Like any spiritual book, though, every single one of these holds a piece of humanity, a piece of its author (channeled or not); in every book lies a portion of every soul that has read them.

More important than the books Ann gave me are the ones my grandmother had in her lifetime.  I have many of her old books, and have carried them with me from home to home, packing, unpacking, sometimes organized, sometimes left in boxes, and while I’ve looked at some, I have until now never noticed them.  I kept them because my mother taught me of the value of books… they are more valuable than gold.  What I didn’t know until now was that hidden within these books ARE my grandmother.  I know her through her books.  And I am amazed at how much like she I am.  Or she like I.

My grandmother knew the Secret.  She knew and practiced magick. She was everything I cannot turn my back on being.  She was a magnificent woman, and I only knew her until I was thirteen. 

This knowledge, lies near my fingertips.  I fear placing so much value on these things to know that one day they may not be here anymore.  I fear losing them, and that is one of the fastest ways to encourage something to happen to them.  I have a difficult time not being so attached to them.  My most prized possessions are older than I, are dusty, and would be prime kindling for a fire.

…and I had always dreamt of a library.  who knew that the contents would mean so much to me.

So, while I didn’t win the Miss Apogaea, I *did* get through the first round and all my friends now think I’m really cool.  (I didn’t win because it was fate that the woman wearing only duct tape and doing impromptu dance was to win.)“goddess & demon”

goddess great, goddess good
watching from within
my godess watches quietly
as every goddess should

she sparks my lips
and makes you smile
my goddess is a queen
she lies within my sparkling eyes
and quiets when she’s seen

she’s bright and clear and heavenly
but she is not alone
my goddess watches patiently
the demon slides right in

“you little shit!”
you fucking bitch!
you get down on your knees!”
she obliges willingly
my goddess likes to please

my demon grins and starts to laugh
the goddess shrinks away
all goodness starts to fade a bit
my demon likes to play 

“I’ll bite your lips, your finger tips
I’ll even pull your hair
I’ll tie you up,
Buttercup
don’t smile like you don’t care!”

my breathe will singe your throat, your jaw
my nails will pierce your skin
the goddess giggles nervously
a demon never wins

she’s all strapped up
she’s whipped, restrained
she quivers and she sighs
her breast begins to rise and fall
slits become my goddess’ eyes

my demon rips her fingertips
across sweet goddess flesh
a smoking whim, a breathless moan
she rubs her molten mouth
‘cross my good goddess’ lips

bite you, burn you, brand you, kiss you
my demon stakes her claim
a lust-filled whine, a pause in time
my goddess gasps in pain

in ecstacy, in a submissive stance
my goddess finds her power
without more than a second glance
my goddess bares her flower

my demon may, in words and strikes
have aggressed herself upon me
but when it comes to playful fights
the one in charge
will always the goddess be

“oh playful wretch, you demon you,
you like it when I let you surge
but sexy demon, you wretched wench,
it’s only *I* who allow you to purge”

“your bitter bites, your nipple nibbles
they’re all just fun and games
if you want to really play
I’ll show you just the same”

“touch me soft and lick me low
graze your breath upon me
and if you’re nice I’ll make you smile
I’ll lick you back you’ll see”

“so touch me here you hateful thing
and whisper in my ear
tell me how you like it, Sweet
show me what you want right here”

a goddess and a demon lie
within this quivering body
a little bit of playful pinch
a lot of sweating rubbing
my goddess and my demon play
palms and pulse and fingers wet
a goddess and a demon, I
have given ample notice clearly
and if you haven’t met me yet
consider this your warning

springtime, spelltime, here I am,
was gone for only a minute!
the air is warm, the sun it shines,
and life is on full throttleLook out.  I think I just won on a scratch ticket.