Forever Never/The Dawn of Illusion.. The Story Continues…


Forever Never/The Dawn of Illusion

by Cheryl Pennington

2013 copyright all written and artistic composition and blog content

Hello again,

I wanted to post the next chapters of my novel for those who may have already begun the book. If you are reading for the first time and would like to read the previous 3 installments, they will be listed in the archives with the most recent showing in recent posts. Just look for the black and white  bird.  My desire is to share my story with anyone who is interested.  After attempting to publish it the “traditional” way and beginning the entangled process of selling myself and my work, I decided to at least begin to publish it here, free of charge, to anyone who cares to invest the time and thought into reading it. I would appreciate any feedback or questions you may have.  If nothing else, I hope to provoke thought, questions and a desire to share ideas.  This is a work of fiction that is based on an idea.  This idea was the result of many years of struggling with my traditional religious history and the death of my mother.  In my quest to understand the world of sorrows and the offer of peace from Eternity, I have received my own sense of comfort from what I feel to be the source of all Comfort.  It matters not what name you give it, only that you can recognize and accept its gift of Unconditional Love.  The characters in my novel represent a tale of the first humans to walk upon a world and follows them as they discover the duality of their own nature and deal with the sense of loneliness they feel upon their perceived separation from Spirit.  If you stick with me through this tale, you will learn of their talents, their hopes, their conviction, their desire and temptation and their ultimate understanding of their place in this illusion we call Life.

I hope you will rejoin me here as the god and goddess of the new worlds try to ease their own loneliness with the creation of new life there.


Forever Never/The Dawn of Illusion

the story continues….

                                                                                                         VIII Deception

  Inion was in other parts of Eternity, creating other Worlds-all magnificent, although not as beloved as her Dohman. Her own inner light felt diminished since the perceived attack from her twin’s creation and her connection with Bandia had grown dim as a result.  She knew the goddess would care for her world in her mother’s absence.  Inion allowed the cord of communication between them to be cut as she hid within the shadow of her great Sorrow; but now she would have to be made aware of the changes on Dohman.

Mor approached Its daughter with wisdom and love. “Have you lately communed with your daughter, my Inion?  She has created something beautiful and unique on your Dohman, but has done so without your guidance.  You must go to her at once and discover why she has moved in such a way. You must become present once more in the life of your Creations or there will be no balance.”

Mor spoke these words from the seat of Unconditional Love, understanding Its daughter’s world would be hungry for the same love which existed within her, a love it needed  to survive.  What the wounded Feminine soul heard, however, was the thought drawn from the well of emptiness inside, that voice of her newly formed perception which spoke more loudly than that of her sense of Truth. And it cried out, “Failure! You must repent, for you have disappointed your Father yet again.  He will never Love you as He once did.”  Quickly, she sought out the goddess Bandia.

   Inion gazed upon her Dohman, seeing immediately  what had taken place. Though her first thought was one of great joy at the sight of another lovely being on the world of Light, her inner emptiness demanded equal time.  “She has caused Great Spirit to be angry with you,” it cajoled. “She must think she is greater than you,  her own Mother.”

It was from that place of her own dark fear that she confronted the goddess, “My Daughter, what is this? What have you done?  You were told never to create from within your own Essence and now you have done this without even communing with Great Spirit-or consulting your mother!”

  Now  another sensation arrived within her newly forming consciousness.  It sprang from the core of her being and pushed the thoughts out before she could reconsider or stop them. Fear reigned supreme as in sudden anger she cried, “You have disobeyed me and brought shame in our Father’s eyes!”

(This, of course, was not true; for Mor had only Unconditional Love for all of Its creations. It was saddened by her misunderstanding)

Bandia was not completely surprised by her Mother’s disappointment, for she understood her error; but she was hurt and confused by her anger. This was not something they had shared before. It awakened her own newly arriving Ego, an Ego that would become as an empty chalice for Creation, always wanting new sensations to fill it, but never-oh never-being satisfied.
She felt a myriad of new emotion, from shame at knowing she had done as she was expressly forbidden to her own disappointment that her Mother had not even looked upon her lovely creation before condemning it as such a grave error.  Bitterness became a guest in the house of her ego at that moment.  And such company is never sweet.
Of course, Inion’s intent was never to create these wounds in her daughter’s soul, her love for Bandia being as great as Mor’s love for Its own Children. When she sensed the shift in her Goddess’s soul, she immediately withdrew into herself.  She remembered her own transgression against her Father’s command and returned to the place of Light within. When she spoke to Bandia once more, it was with the Unconditional Love of Eternity. “My daughter, it truly is with much disappointment that I discover this deception from you; but let me see now what you have Created so that we can work together once more.”

Forgiven and full of joy, Bandia quickly moved to Dohman and found M’na swimming in the ocean with its graceful creatures. Those blue-green depths were quickly becoming her favorite place to be. The warm, fluid waters enveloped her and felt as a comforting memory long gone-that of floating in pure energy.
“M’na,” said the Goddess excitedly,  “Inion would like to commune with you now.” Together they all joined, with Bandia as communicator and M’na in a deep meditation. While in this state she was able to see, hear and know her Mother Inion, the Creator of Dohman.  It was a precious time for M’na and would herald the beginning of a wonderful trinity among them, the time that brought her a genuine sense of being whole.

Inion could not deny the glorious harmony that M’na brought to her world, the love felt by all living things in her presence, and how balanced everything seemed since last she looked upon it.  Bandia had truly done a wonderful job in her creation.  This new sensation, this Gratitude, overshadowed Inion’s previous anger; and they were at peace with one another once more. As the Light shone brightly within all of them, the empty space retreated. Now Inion grew to better understand Her own Father’s great Love for Her and for her Twin.  Perhaps Mac, too, was experiencing the same thing within his realm and on his own World. She hoped so with all of her being..

IX Manipulation

Something very different was happening in Mac’s shadowy corner of Eternity.  The tendril which had begun its climb upward within his own Essence had been inherited by his Son, this God of Dohman Eile.  In him it was flourishing, welcomed by its host as Vibrancy, Vitality and more than anything else, Power.

“I grow weary of having only you to commune with!”,  thundered Mac en Mor to his Creator.  Mac had grown quite weary of his son.  So much darkness in this Creation was draining to his own Essence. So he began to stay away from the place which started out to be his masterpiece, his trophy to win his Mother’s great Love and acceptance  (that which he already possessed without homage or offering).  He had begun creating other worlds but never again did he create from within his own Essence.

Mac had  forbidden the god of his dark world to create from within himself at the express instruction of Mor. He did not want to anger his Mother again. (His perception remained fixed on the notion that anger was possible within the realm of Unconditional Love)  In spite of the warning from his father, the God of Dohman Eile had his own desires.  Cunning was a new branch on the prickly vine that climbed from the darkness now, and Mac en Mor was eager to test its strength. He was relentless in the pursuit of his goal and took a new approach.

“Did you know that your sister has been allowed to extend her own gifts to that of her Goddess daughter?” he goaded Mac.   “What of your Mother in this?  Why has She allowed Inion to share this power and not Her very own Son?”

Pride was great in this Creation, dark was the core of his Essence, and Ego was predominant in his nature.  The Light was there, but miniscule because of Mac’s error in making it the last and almost forgotten part of his Son.  In its diminished capacity Mac an Mor felt he could contain it, even use it if need be; but he vowed he would not allow it to rule him as it did His Creator and the others in Eternity.  He would not share their emptiness and pain or seek the nectar of approval that never filled an empty cup.  There was no power in it.  He lusted for power.  For control.  The very thought of it filled him with excitement.

(Mor knew the thought of Mac en Mor but had great hope that his Son would contain this dark Creation.  There were new and exciting sensations that arrived with him;  but they threatened the Light, the very thing which defined Existence.  This poor ignorant God could not, would not allow himself to understand this.  Mor would watch and wait…)

Mac did not try to hide his confusion. “What do you mean?  Inion did not speak of this to me.” In truth, Mac did not recall when he was last with his twin.  Mac an Mor knew this and seized the opportunity to drive a wedge deeper between them, though cunning was his approach.

“Perhaps it is because she did not want you to feel..overlooked,”  he consoled. “If you knew Mor had allowed your sister to share the gift of creation with the Goddess of her world, then surely you would have felt… well….slighted.”

  What the dark god intended to nurture within his Father, of course, were the dark vines of Jealously that were newly sprouted within Mac’s Essence, fighting for control of his young consciousness.  The Light within him cried out in protest as it urged him to go to his Twin and to Great Spirit, to ask questions before allowing this abomination-his own creation-to convince him of true deception.

Mac was confused by the duality of light and dark within his own Soul and, afraid that he might sacrifice one for the other, he fled his World in utter despair, calling out to the dark god as he left, “Go on! Create to your soul’s content. What care I for this dark world I have Created?   It was condemned by my own Mother and now it is being transformed into Gan (without) by my very own Son. It matters not what I say or do any longer!”

These new sensations sprang into being as Helplessness and Desperation.  Mac wanted no more to do with anything he had created on Dohman Eile and retreated to the farthest reaches of Eternity so that he could try to repair what was darkened within himself. He was still turning from the Source, still not comprehending that all he needed lay within as he forgot that His Creator was never more than a thought away from him, feeling all he felt and only loving him.
Mor would not deny Mac His experience and was thankful for Its Son’s desire to be rid of his darkness. Still, It was saddened that Mac did not make more of an attempt to repair the darkness within his own Creations, abandoning his Dohman Eile and leaving it in the control of this God, this twisted portion of Himself that now hoped to create more of the same-and with no supervision.  These were not good sensations.  These caused great rifts in the Light of Eternity.  Great Spirit could always intervene if need be.  For now It would watch.  Experience was still good, but destruction was not.  And so it remained….

X Daughter of Darkness, Daughter of Pain

Mac an Mor felt more powerful than ever.  Not only did he have his Father’s consent, he was left alone to create however he wished.  He considered his next move carefully.  He had seen what the Light Ones created, had watched from his dark Lake of Mirrors, as a voyeur and interloper. Their creations were magnificently full of beauty and Love, harmonic and brilliant in Spirit.  He couldn’t deny this.  He also saw how fragile this type of creation turned out to be when, at the very sound of his embryonic cries, Inion’s world was nearly ripped apart.  His world, his creations, would be stronger than that. They would endure all, surpass all, and be Mighty in the sight of Spiorad Mor.

Mac en Mor longed to be first among Eternity’s creations; and any who cared to follow him would be shown the way to Greatness. He did not yet understand that true greatness was what lay within and not what was manifest in the realm of creation.   Hence, the ego of Mac en Mor gave birth to the perception of his own place in Eternity, and to the idea that there indeed needed to be a first or a last in the Sight of Mor. Foolishly, even as He thought himself stronger than his own Creator, he became entangled in the web of Misconception. He was building from deep within the empty space, that hollow of need, where no ladder, no rope, no machination could reach the pinnacle he viewed as greatness.

   It would prove an endless, futile, and destructive path, and one that would be his legacy as well as that of all he touched.  This Mor knew, yet in Unconditional Love he allowed Mac an Mor to move forward.  His Essence was magnificent, sending ripples of sensation throughout Eternity, adding to the ever increasing band of experience that was the Original Thought of Mor.

The Creator allowed him to proceed.  “It will be interesting to see what He creates,” came the thought in vibration.  And the contrast between the Light and Dark was intriguing….

Mac an Mor considered all things before beginning his creation.  Everything was Feminine Essence and light in Bandia’s creation.  He had been observing the goddess with much admiration as she moved between the sinewy mists of Dohman and the vastness of Eternal Light.  And he felt something else.  Something deep within his core was stirred at the sight of her floating above the world’s surface, moving in silvery threads that transformed her into the same forms as the creatures she made.  It seemed glorious that she could run wild with beasts or soar above the ground with the feathered creations.  Indeed Dohman was a marvelous world, but so soft-so easily shaken.  His own world was darkly immovable.  It demanded to be known.

His mind drew the vision of Bandia’s new daughter…now there was a creation.  The soft curves of her physical form, the fluttering eyes, the deeply colored lips, her breath lighter than the winds-She, greater than anything that walked, ran or flew above her world.  She was filled with the Essence of Bandia and the Light of Inion.  Mac en Mor saw this and knew it to be true.  He had no desire to duplicate the Feminine in this way, however, feeling his own creation should reflect his immense power.  Ahhh..the dilemma. Anything too strong might challenge his own control and try to be more

Certain that he could control the Feminine, this weaker energy, he decided that was exactly what he wanted.  How cunning, he reasoned, for Bandia to banish her own creation to a solitary life upon Dohman while she, the Goddess Herself, was positioned between M’na and Inion.  In this way  the human needed her mother always to speak for her to those within the Eternal Realm.  Clever indeed; and yet he wasn’t so sure she even recognized her motives for doing this.  He understood them well.  And he would mimic her wisdom with his own creation.

If only Mac had been close enough to know what his God was  planning he could have intervened, counseled, even forbid him from moving forward with the mangled plan taking root in the darkness of his infant ego.  Thinking he could outwit even Great Spirit, Mac en Mor initiated his deception before the seat of Eternity. “I will counsel with Mor and have him advise me regarding my creation to assure him of my intent to create cautiously. In this way I will be trusted and considered wise,” he reasoned to himself.
This was a guise of course, a deception designed to bring comfort to Great Spirit so that It would not be watching too closely as the foolish god carried out his true design.  Turning from the perfection that was his birthright, the god listened to the lying voices which called from the depths of his own empty space. They would teach him exactly how to deceive.  Shortsighted was the Ego, for Mor knew all thought, felt all sensation, understood every intent in Eternity.  Only Its desire for their Experience to increase and to see Creation grow in Unconditional Love kept Great Spirit from intervening.  Not now….not yet.

Acting on his plan to deceive, the god went to Great Spirit. “Mor, I am before you as a humble son; for my own Father has abandoned me to seek other fulfillment.  I need a keeper for our Dohman Eile-isn’t that what you call my world?  It appears that my father’s twin has allowed her own Goddess to create a life form that is both Spirit and flesh, drawn from that of her World below.” He feigned deference to the Creator.

Mor was silent so Mac en Mor continued, “It saddens me that she did not consult you first in her eagerness to feed her own desires.” The continued silence from Mor began to unnerve the god. Perhaps it was time to speed this up. “Ahh, well,  I am seeking your wisdom with my own efforts to create a form of flesh and Spirit to walk upon my world. Together she and I-we-will keep order there.  As you can see, I have been abandoned by your Son recently.  I believe he had other interests….”

As only a Creator can love even the vilest of Its children, Mor looked with great sadness and pity upon this deceptive God, who in his self-indulgent state could not begin to comprehend the Unconditional Love that Mac had for him, that the Creator had for everything in Existence.  Perhaps once this God had created from within himself, he would recognize this and find that love to bring forth.  In this way, reasoned Mor, he would be able to make himself whole.

Great Spirit of course consented to the god’s request.  Every desire was to be fulfilled, for experience was the reason for existence, after all…but it cautioned the god of Dohman Eile, “You may create a keeper for your world, but be vigilant in the ways of Love and Light as you do so.”

Mac en Mor agreed of course, “All in the name of Light, Mor. All in the name of Light.” Deception was amazingly easy, he thought. It would become difficult to draw the line between what was truth and what was fabrication for him in the eventual.  But for now it fit his design quite well.

The God returned to his world, glancing over its shadowy fields and dark valleys, gray pools and occasional light reflections.  He felt much Love (as much as he was capable of) for this Creation of his Father. Why had Mac abandoned it-and himself? For an instant the empty space knew a new resident, small and vulnerable.  Swiftly and without remorse it was swallowed by the dark vapors that arose from its depths along with the voices. “No matter.  You are not weak. You do not need a Father. You need only yourself.”

So it would be that the painful struggle of the Sons and Daughters of Eternity would know a forked path.  While one energy would desperately seek to light the dark corners of their empty vessels, fearing what lie within the black, the other would at the same time wage war on those who claimed preference for the existence of Light.  Those fleeing the hand of darkness would refuse to see the value of the shadows that lie within and to accept their presence, illuminating them with Light.  The other would forever be seeking to blot out its own Light and the Light of the All That Was, fearing the loss of its perceived power; for within the Light it would be exposed. Neither force realized they faced the same enemy, and its name was Fear.  And all done in the name of Fear would produce their great Punisher. Its name was Guilt.  Both were illusions, but then all of Existence was but an illusion.  Mac en Mor went forth to Create his own Sil, the seed drawn from his Essence mingled with the form of his World.

From within the gray mists of the surface he drew in his breath and with a controlled force swept it across the face of his Dohman Eile.  As it grazed the cold, hard shell of the dark World, towering curls of particles and dust swirled upward while gathering from the energy that lay beneath. The god drew great circles above the mists, causing them to rise and spin slowly as they gathered what debris lay in their path.  As though a living essence, the whirlwinds then swept across the dark waters that flowed over Mac’s world, extracting fluid energy from the glassy surface and continued on to draw from every living thing on Dohman Eile.

The writhing formation drew itself up from the surface, towering over its captivated creator; but in that same instant he knew it must be tamed.  Drawing a line of silvery softness from the single moon above his world, he placed it within the center of his creation.  This moon, the one Light of His world, would soften the power of darkness within his daughter so that she would appear beautiful and appealing in her magnificence.

Longing to honor his need for Supremacy, the god then laid the imprint for the eventual demise of his dark agenda as he dipped deeply within his Soul Essence, searching for the Light that Mac had planted there.  It was the one thing he had been able to control since the day of his Birth.

Finally a use for it, he surmised. Here was a way to keep his creation less powerful, more needy than Mac an Mor himself would ever be (or so he reasoned in his lack of awareness).  This would bring subservience to the feminine form he was creating, for  he felt the Feminine to be weaker than his own masculine essence.
Mac en Mor then drew this great energy close to himself where he could feel its power vibrating against his own.  How it filled him.  Lastly, in the face of Eternity, he blew the tiny Light into Its core and called forth his Creation.  A brilliant glow flashed across the surface of Dohman Eile in that millisecond of birth, just before his creation cried out in pure agony.  Her essence covered the surface of his world, lighting the darkness, so that every twisted, mangled formation and low, bent being that Mac an Mor had created were in the full Light of Eternity.  Some instantly withered  beneath the power of this loving embrace while others shrank and sought cover, for they had never known true Light in their world.

Mac en Mor was at first shaken, but only briefly; for He never doubted His own power, a trait which would bring him many victories but would be his undoing down the path. He cared not for the dying lowly ones.  More would come as they always did.  This new being he had brought forth would surely create magnificent things upon His world-together they would create.

Swiftly, Mor admonished, “Do not think it Mac en Mor. No being formed from the essence of your world shall be allowed to create.  She will be but a companion and Watcher for your world and must consult with you in all things.  Through you, she will remain in communion with me as well.  Mac will return and you will be once more in communion with your own Father.”  Already knowing the dark design of Dohman Eile’s god, Great Spirit concluded. “Neither shall you take form to roam your world as your daughter does or to be as her companion.” The Creator held out hope for a change in the course of Eternity’s dark path.

“Of course, Spiorad Mor.  I understand and it will be as you desire,” Mac en Mor assured the Creator.  But, with the seeds of deception flourishing in his soul, he once again turned from Great Spirit. Indeed, Mac an Mor had other ideas. Ideas that were just beginning to bud within his consciousness.

Turning once more to his Creation, Mac en Mor spoke to her  for the first time, “As’me, one who is of me and from me-be with me now.”  The dark and lovely feminine form  before him opened her eyes to her father.  He continued his instruction, “You will keep my Dohman Eile as I tell you.  I give you the freedom to move among the living things on this world, changing form as you desire to be one with its life.  May your touch add brilliance to all that surrounds you.”  He swept his hand across the dank and misty surface as he spoke.  Remembering the admonition of Mor, he reluctantly told As’me, “You may not, however, create anything from within yourself.  This is the word of our Great Spirit.  You will commune with me always, and I with Spiorad Mor on your behalf.”

Mac en Mor conveniently failed to mention the presence or availability of his own Father, Mac, or that Mor would always be available to As’me if only she spoke Its name. He did not reveal that Great Spirit knew all, felt all and saw all.  What need had she to know this, he reasoned, with her own God to come to, to instruct and guide her in all she would need to know?

A new thread now weaving its way into the tapestry of Consciousness, Delusion made itself known.  No longer alone, Mac en Mor marveled at his new creation; and as she gazed upon his countenance, As’me felt great love for this God, the one who breathed her into Existence.   She vowed to obey His every command, become all that he wanted, and to honor His wishes.

As’me glowed as she vowed allegiance to her Father, for deep within shone the light of Eternal Love. “All that I am I owe to you as my Creator; and all that you ever desire shall be my only reason for being.”  Mac en Mor was in ecstasy at the sound of these words, experiencing now what Great Spirit must have longed for and what his own Mac sensed when in his Son’s presence.  Perhaps he should go to Spiorad Mor as he was instructed.  The Light within his soul’s core urged him on.  He would have to, of course, on behalf of his new daughter.  Then maybe the Great Mother would even begin to value his existence and look upon him in the same way that She viewed the inhabitants of Dohman, the first World.

Oh, why had his own Father waited so long to bring him to life?  He would have been first and most beloved.  The Light receded once more.

(Why did they not understand with all they had been given that there was no first, no last, no better or worse, none more loved and none despised in the sight of Spiorad Mor?  It knew nothing but Love for all of its Creation.  In Wisdom and patience It watched this new unfolding of Its Original Thought-absorbing all, sensing all, being All with All in its Eternity.)

   Thus began As’me’s journey upon the brilliant but dismal world of Dohman Eile.  She moved across the surface, scanning the sinewy black sheets of rock and river; and with the Light that Mac en Mor had placed within her in his design to keep her weak, she touched the darkness there, giving it new life.  The things that crept, moved and flew upon its surface felt something awakening in their cores.  It was invigorating to these small creations.  While Mac an Mor only saw dominion in the creation of every living thing, As’me touched them with her Essence, sensing the Oneness they all shared.

Alas she, having a stronger sense of the light that lay buried deep inside her, longed for more. She ached for it.  After a time, As’me became despondent living in such bleak darkness, and her Spirit seemed to wane.  Mac en Mor could not feel the glory of her adoration as before. She plead with him.  “Please, Father, may I have another moon? Or a blazing fireball such as Dohman has?”

He roared, “We want nothing that the other world has!  All has been perfection here since it was Created by my Father.”  Instantly sensing her great disappointment, he relented; for the tiny Light he carried within his own soul kept his love for As’me alive. It was because of this love that he consented to a new silvery moon and hung it above his beloved world with all the love he held for his daughter-such as he was capable of.

“These should provide a beautiful glow across the lands and cheer you, yes?”  As’me was indeed cheered to see the Light that spread across the slate colored lands and dark oceans; and she rejoiced as things which had not been there before sprang up to greet its Light-such a light as it was….

So it continued for eons-Mac en Mor ruling Dohman Eile with As’me close to him always, forever by his side.  The god encouraged her to commune with Great Spirit-through himself of course-and this she did more often than he would have liked.  It was necessary, she reminded him, to keep all in balance, just as he had instructed her at her time of birth.  What she didn’t tell him was that these times brought her the greatest sense of fullness, greater than that of his presence, or walking upon their world.  It filled a place deep within her that seemed somehow lacking and there awakened something that longed to be touched.

Somehow she knew that sharing this  thought with her God would anger and hurt him, so she kept it within her own heart.  Mac en Mor gave her life and she would serve him as she promised.  She felt he was both glorious and terrible at once.  What greater wish than to be as he was, she told herself over and over again.

What Mac en Mor didn’t tell his Creation, what he scarcely dared to acknowledge himself, was that these times in counsel with Mor also eased the fire within his own center and gave his soul a rest, filling it with great comfort.  Not accepting this as a gift, he knew only that it was different. It must be a curse, he thought, something to steal his power; and eventually he began to deny her her requests for communion with Great Spirit.  ‘We don’t need It’, was his only reason.

The old gnarled tree of deception sprouted new growth as it  encroached upon his consciousness once more and reached out to touch this new beauty before Him.  MY Creation. MY World.  MY power has made it so.  He had even begun to forget his own Creator, Mac, who had fled from his face in anger and disgust. The empty space within the dark god that needed filling cried out for acceptance; and Mac en Mor’s great fear had its own name-Abandonment.  He vowed to never need anyone or anything again.

to be continued……

Please leave me a message in the comments section or touch the bubble at the top of the page to leave a message if you would like.  If you have read this far, I thank you.

Love and Light,



4 thoughts on “Forever Never/The Dawn of Illusion.. The Story Continues…

  1. This is amazing writing. I had to read again. You allowed the reader to fall into internal thoughts and question. When we lose someone we need. A emotional drain is necessary. I use the paper and pen to release. You need to write books. You combine thoughts and life that are easy to be understood.


    1. Thank you so much for commenting. This is part of the book I have written which I am putting up on my blog, in pieces. One day I hope to publish. You are the first to say that you understand its meaning. I also use pen and paper to release. I just kept thinking about why we are always searching for our other half and why we always are full of fear. My story is what I learned from Spirit. Thank you again.


  2. It seems thus far about a need so great, almost beyond words, reminds me of a dream or vision (2002) I slid down a chalky white chute and landed on what could conceivably be called a bed chalk white all and once sat upon I viewed black hole and heard sounds which brought me back to the land of the living…
    where dear writer the quest for unconditional love seems to be lost and the world’s philosophy through psychological terms call investments in relationships “sunk costs” (I will return with full quote and hopefully you can use it accordingly in your beautiful writing style and converging paths). When people tell me to hang on, I respond with I have been in free fall since news of my mother’s passing there remains nothing to grab hold of except for mercy, the unconditional love its need for so great…as your words give theme to.


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