Tryst

No. Not again. Despite the inevitability of the select moments within our lives, often, frequently, there are moments that cannot be escaped. You can run. You could lie. You might object but, when all the procrastination has ended, you’re left with inevitability.

He placed his hand against the desk, remaining stable, as his mind flashed previous events into his viewable day. He had many thoughts. Private thoughts, moments, seconds, where his consciousness seemingly escaped into another reality. Sure, previous memories were often experienced by nearly every single person, but this was different. To him, at least. He’d expire every single one of them but, deep down within his very soul, he simply did not wish to do so.

He smiled, for a brief second, allowing his desire to overcome his thoughts. There they were, his emotions. Brief, inescapable, often speaking words that could only be felt. The clock, ticking against the wall, counted the seconds before the rendezvous. Private, romantic, close, expressive, communicative, as well as intently passionate. They had everything, but each other’s complex foibles. Neither would admit to what they had, what they were doing, let alone if the chance of it moving somewhere was even afforded to either of them.

He, simply, easily, complicitly, endured the possibility of losing himself completely. Friends, worried for his very mind, provided unsolicited advice. Colleagues ventured the same stories. He did not care. At all. Not even for a second. To feel, to fathom the depths of one’s emotions, meant the world to him. He shared with her, he opened his very soul, within private.

There was romance. They were lovers, they were a ‘thing’, as people often mentioned or, as they stated lately, they were within a ‘situationship’.  Their words did not, could not, convey anything about what was being experienced. People also said that to never feel anything, would be but a sin within the mortal realms. He was mortal and, thankfully, he felt everything. Her lips, her thoughts made real, her expressive smile, the way she moved and, most of all, he felt her words resounding within the echo chambers of his very soul.

She moved with such grace and, despite being a tentative subject, gracious femininity. She was intelligent, connective, not afraid to express her needs and, thankfully, she side stepped the passive aggressive nature of so many people within the world. She was, to think of more words, her own being.

He removed his hand from the table, running it over his face, removing the fatigue from his thoughtful expression.  Another moment, another smile. She was private, yet open to him. She was romantic and yet, a closed book to people around her. They were lovers and furthermore, they were friends when the door opened, and the world asked them to visit.

The lovers. The willing entrapment of two hearts wishing and wanting there to be more. Despite the risk, regardless of the future, two people simply had to take the possible chance of something, or anything, working out right. This is why he’d planned the secret little destinations. The meeting of two people that adored the surprises of life and location.  Private, passionate, kisses amongst the stars and under the hidden trees.  A hundred places, a thousand thoughts. A thousand thoughts, amongst the many kisses.

He flicked the pages of the dictionary, that was sat upon the table to his left. A reminder, a recourse. A potion of passion and a thought for a moment. He loved her and she, oh yes she, loved him with such a passion that it could only be expressed by the pure and poignant explanation of a word. The pages slowed and, finally, he reached the correct word to describe their very situation and emotions,

‘Tryst: a private romantic rendezvous between lovers: keep a private, romantic rendezvous with a lover’

Another moment, another smile, another second before she arrived. If anything, despite a million words being afforded to him, he was beyond happy with the small, simple, romantically enticing word, tryst.

Who

If you could, should or would, please open your social media account. Any will do. Have a quick look at your friends list, scroll down, slowly, taking in all the faces and names. How many do you know, really know or, in fact, ‘think’ that you know.

The world isn’t simply black with the white appearing ever so often, it’s multiple shades of so many colours and, as I’ve read, many other colours that we might never, ever, realise. This, of course, is the same with people. Take a selection of people, from that glorious list of names. Think of them. Recall them. Smile, as you remember moments, words, within sections of time. They’ve touched your emotions, they might have even held your hand or, let you go. Overall, we probably all know many, many different individuals.

Alternatively, do we? There are people that I haven’t seen or, even, spoken with in years. There’s many that I’ve never spoken with, which of course, is a shame. I’m a friendly person, but am I?  You see, each person on your list of friends sees you in a different light. They see you as a different person.

You, yourself, the I, the I am, believes that you’re a certain person. You might believe that you’re liked, loved, missed and never forgotten. You could appreciate the energies that you expel and bring into your world. You’re magnificent, you’re lost, you’re heartbroken, your emotions finally finding the stability you desired for the longest of time. You are, just as you are. The moment captured, immortalised, held within your consciousness. Hopefully, you know who you are.

Your ego, amongst many other facets, believes that you are the x and y of the world. Each friend, however, within your list, believes that you are something else. Each person we know, or have known, has an impression of ‘us’, within them. To one person, we’re the joker, the smiler, the miserable heartbreaker, the complainer, the yo-yoing person, the idiot, the cheater, the looser, the mischief maker and more. Those impressions, albeit often incorrect, are held like a polaroid picture taken years previous.

Once again, it matters not if you’ve achieved, expanded your knowledge, healed, or regretted and come to terms with previous malicious actions. It’s not recalled that you’ve adapted, succeeded or, even, become a brand-new person via adversity, trauma, pain and near life ending situations. You are, in essence, many hundred plus individuals within one body.

Although the histories of life proclaim that we’re all connected, all a central consciousness of abundance, we, instead, rely upon the simple, easy, miss-informed logical sense that a person is whom you think they are. Your Mother, your Sister, your partner and your neighbour, all see you as a different individual, despite actually being one solo person. Someone can form an opinion about you and, if they never ask, will keep that opinion despite it being completely, unequally, untrue.

How, upon any singular day, can someone, anyone, truly comprehend the complexity of any individual? We view a person as a book, the cover of colour and shallow substance, with the synopsis being all we need to define and decide upon our evermore imagined impression. No matter the effort, the delusion we decide to present to the world’s individuals, we will always be seen as someone else, other than who we really are. It makes a mockery of any attempt to seem nice, polite, or understanding, as there’s always the possibility of being miss-understood and fractioned into many, many alternative labels.

At this point, you might be thinking, “Well, yes, that’s pretty obvious!”  You’d be correct. However, we seldom think such thoughts. We’re sometimes occupied, attempting to be something that we’re not. We’re thinking, feeling, hurting, healing entities wrapped within a suit of meat, water and space. The outside is, frankly, a limited view of the universe with the inside, that glorious ball of energy called a soul/consciousness, being everything. Sure, it’s lovely to have the car, the house, the clothes and the importance of having a hundred people love us to bits, but the real conclusion, the actual truth, would be that hardly anyone thinks of us and if they do, their thoughts and impressions are more than likely incorrect depending on time. Alternatively, they could see you for exactly what you are.

The snapshots we take, the moments we make, when imagining another, are incredibly limited. A life can be static one week and then, the next, every single part of that life could change, forming a brand-new person. The safest path within the world is staying the same. The same day, the same routine, the same people, the same kisses and, the same harsh memories grinding us to dust. Slowly. That, as we know, is also incredibly boring. Personally, the only opinion that matters, when it concerns who ‘you’ are, is your own. You can change, you can grow, you can learn, and you can become something… more, than you are. I believe in all of you, in everyone. However, I also appreciate that my belief means little to the many and something, to the few. Realistically, we’re hardly thought of at all and even then, it’ll be the same picture formed in time.

Upon a day, maybe ‘never’ ask another ‘who’ you are, as they probably won’t know. If you, as an individual, cannot answer the question of ‘who’ you are, then heaven help you, if you consider the impressions and opinions of another. After all, the only person that really, truly, knows you, is you, and even then, many hardly ever even consider the very question of, “Who am I?”

Glass

Upon a day, be it planned or not, each of us is born into the world kicking, screaming, crying or in silence. We learn, we adapt, we adopt the way of things and grow forward whilst spending so much time looking back. We become something, the other, what we are, and can even envision what we’ll be. We follow the trends, to be liked, to be seen, even though we will always be individuals. We are often followers, that wish to be followed.

Then, upon another day, we start to rise within the world. We form pedestals to stand upon but in this case, I’d like to suggest that we form glass platforms.  Upon these platforms of formed glass, we stand tall. We look across the world, our world, like bastions of pure invincibility and grandeur. We know all, we supposedly see all, proud and stoic. We are, amongst many offered names, the wide-eyed, mostly happy, beings of faith, hope, love and most certainly, ego.

Another platform forms, be it a new job, a new partner, a new set of adventures and more. Whatever our egos decide to place value around, we can stand upon. Fierce, fire filled eyes, the very energy within slashing out into the void without a care in the world. We are, supposedly, everything.

Upon another day, something happens. The new relationship fails, two egos clashing, unable to find a balance and the abundance faulters, fails, and you’re cast aside. You fall. For the very first time, you fall so very, very hard. The glass platform beneath your feet, the sturdy construction formed from your egoic thoughts, feelings and soul enaction, cracks and splits. You fall. You fail. You land upon the platform directly below.

You clamber, you grasp, you grab at any platform that you can find. Friends, family, social media, as the moments within your mind threaten to break the very body that holds you so close within. You, eventually, find the platform that you desire, a place that feeds you, the ego energised once again. Be it another individual, another lover, your pedestal of glass confirmed, cemented, and anodised into your life. You save your ego, your emotions and, thankfully, can ignore the thoughts that chip away at your stability. You decide within, that you’d rather not face any of the consequences, actions or circumstance.

You’re stable, again. The cracks beneath your feet, ignored. The trembling within your heart, pushed aside. The memories held within the heart’s mind, ignored, despite the movies and plays repeating over and over again. So much to say, so much left unsaid. It’s all okay, it’s all perfectly fine, as you realise that if you smile long enough, you’ll believe all the lies you tell yourself when the darkness caresses you at night.

Another day, upon another moment, your Mother, your Father, your best friend, your loved acquaintance, leaves the world. The platform that you find yourself standing upon, once again, cracks and you tumble. Finally, truthfully, you reach the bottom of your world, and no further platforms support you. Your head hits the dirt, the realism of life, as your hands bear the cuts and bruises of your mind’s actions.

You look above, you lift your head, to see further glass bastions of hope, love and truth. You would reach, you would grasp, but deep inside, you realise that none of them truly, honesty, afford you rescue from the solitude you feel so very deep inside the depths of your very person. You are, alone. You are, abandoned. You are, nothing but your very thoughts. No action, no moment, can save you when the critically formed platforms of your life descend, crack, and wither away to dust.

Darkness appears, as you close your eyes, whispering, wishing, wondering, as you wipe away the tears from your outer skin. It’s only you, just you, in the darkness. This, this place, is the most vulnerable, lonely, vacant, exploratory space you can ever imagine. It’s real. It cannot be ignored. It’s all you have. It’s all you’ve ever had and ignored. No school teaches you of these moments.

You breath in, holding the breath, exhaling ever so slowly as you grasp the happenstance of the seconds. Yesterday haunts you, tomorrow is but a thought, with ‘now’ being the very essence of your escape. Your fingers dig into the dirt, as your senses smell the air around you. This is what you are, in the dark, within the silence. You realise, suddenly, that the world outside of you is but a mirror of your imagination. The platforms supporting you, previously, were all based on false notions.

You smile, you whisper further thoughts, as you attempt to stand. You abandon your earthly body as you, instead, simply imagine your two feet standing upon the world. You imagine the wealth, the very scale, of what you’d like to accomplish, and at that moment, the remaining platforms descend towards you. Some crack. Some break. Some vanish.

Finally, you open your eyes. Around you are friends, remaining family, acquaintances, and so much valuable energy. You embrace all of it and, at the same time, you let all of it go. You let it escape the meanings that you’ve assigned. You are renewed. For a moment, your ego asks you to step forward, to balance yourself upon a new platform of your making but, instead, you smile another smile as you realise, as you finally understand after so many years, that you simply no longer require any platforms to stand upon. Especially, platforms made of glass.

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If

If... the ‘what would be’ of the world. The unknown, the chance, the proposition of possibly something else. Do you, should you or, even, could you? Take the leap, make the chance a realistic wish and then, embrace whatever will be.

If... you decided to fall in love, with all the heart felt embraces, promises and beautiful chemicals, would you be ready for months of depression, solitude and weeks of self reflection if it fails? The fifty fifty of life never believes the early promises of a person, with another hope filled leap into the abyss.

If... you or I made a promise, would either person stand by that promise, through the thin, the very thick, along the ever changing 3d world? A promise is a promise is but a promise. We shall say the words, speak it, feel it, because then it’s real. Or is it?

If... you fell upon hard times, would you reach out to me, then remember how you treated others, my heart, your own feelings and more? The karma afforded by life, might only be our own thoughts within the cold lonely nights. The creature within is selfish but, upon a day, it can learn to be more. To do more.

If... you, I, we, allowed our ego to overwhelm and take the staring role within our lives, what type of person would we be? Maybe it would be too late, the implementation of such a state complete or, maybe, completely removed from within.

If... we built a home together, shared our dreams, communicated as Kings and Queens of the state, would a foundation be built that could last the tests of our time? We might hold childlike wounds within, allowing corruption, doubt and pain to sever the connection, or become stronger before the sun rises once again.

If... we communicated, each step of the way, expanding understanding, would that be an alien concept to two intelligent beings? The dictionary has thousands of words and yet, one word to break, heal, harm or help, all exist. Hardly ever spoken, never forgotten once it’s done, then exclaimed by a wounded consciousness.

If… one person found sustenance within the forms of change, understanding and self-education, would the universe care, blink or even notice? What would one person do, if they were dedicated to constantly improving, resolving the within for an improved outside. Some people listen, some people act but by then, by that point, the moment has moved away.

If… you traversed a mountain path, found the soul you were looking for, would you realise that it was within you all of this time? We seek, we ponder amongst the world’s venues and yet, we can find peace, prosperity, love, affection and warmth from one single source. Maybe it’s too late, maybe fashion, status and pomp is all that’s worthwhile within a life.

If… only if, we stop, stand still, close our eyes and inhale with thought and exhale with emotion. To feel, to think, at the exact same time, is but the magic of all ages or, do you believe in something else? Let’s ponder, let’s resolve, let’s find a suitable middle ground and maybe, just for a second maybe, we could all simply whisper… ‘if’.

 

Partially written 06.12.2022. 
Finished, today.

Queen

At times, a man has to make changes. Maybe not a complete radical change, but a change nonetheless. It could, despite what has just been written, be a life-changing decision as long as it contains the fruits of wealth, knowledge and wisdom. To an end will all things come. It’s what we do before, or after reaching that end, that matters most. Either way, change will come. The inevitability of life affords each of us multiple opportunities to do so. We cannot ignore our chances.

A king should seek knowledge, but knowledge is nothing without the wisdom to implement such information. You and I, or another, could be a veritable encyclopaedia of information, with no actual intelligence to implement the many ideas of wealth (Spiritual, emotional, financial or wisdom). Then, there’s understanding. What is a man without such a moment? Absolutely nothing. Understanding is, with many parts of life, a never-ending journey. You can be wise, successful, wealthy, as well as unknowing, all at the exact same time. It sounds odd, but a lack is just that.

Avoid the tyrannical moments, the incompetence, the silly notion of being brave, a fool, or the narcissistic natures of men and women. Ignore your naivety, your lust, as, instead, become the loved and benevolent king. Suffer no fools and abandon the abandoners. Ignore the fake partners and seek the one that you deserve. A king will only draw to him what he deserves, which means to one and all, that his desires form his very person from bottom to top. What a king thinks and feels, is what he will draw to him and be enacted by the souls surrounding his very aura. If you feel lack, you will receive that lack. If you feel that you will not be loved, then that is what you will become. Unloved. If you do not ‘share’ love, attention and affection, then how can you receive?

Leadership, be that in your daily life, within the home, within the workplace, is not sought by all individual men and yet, it is needed for harmony. We can, of course, defer many decisions, but what is a king without owning his very castle? A shadow of what he could and can be. Despite never being voted into power, a king stands upon his created platform(s) and undertakes the correct course of action, despite any fear or doubt. A decision is just that, ready to be made.  Make a decision, be it right or wrong, as a King can but try.

The king, centred, decisive, loyal to his subjects, stands tall and grasps his duties with strength and passion. It is not enough to be passive, to sit back, as the world never waits for such a man. Move forward, forge plans, bring forward wealth and become majestic with the power within.  A man that does not make decisions when counted upon, can never become a king. He will become indecisive, never reaching the heights of the imposed leadership role. His subjects, adrift, disenchanted, confused and more.

A King lives with integrity, despite making mistakes, which are understood, acknowledged and learned from. He protects his family, his loved ones and friends, whilst presenting and strongly embracing order. The creativity within him, flourishes and is held, enjoyed and loved by the people around his person. Above all, he leaves a legacy that many remember, with no-one forgetting his presence upon the day he no longer remains.

For too long, men have stood upon their own two feet, permitting their lives to move along within a passive nature. Decisions are to be made. Changes to be implemented. Forward thinking and action being undertaken upon each probable moment. Seize your power, embrace your willingness to become more and, above all, make a decision and stick to it. Even if it’s the wrong decision, it’s better to be made than regretted upon a later date. Use the knowledge within you, embrace the wisdom of understanding and enact the play created within your imaginational being.

A king must live within a bountiful mindset, a wealth filled form of thinking. Anything is possible, within reason. All adventures, to be considered and possibly taken. The stories of old, understood and cast aside, the old programs that have had their time within his mind, removed. A king resolves his own issues, rises from any ashes created from his old personality and remains strong. There can be weakness, there can be vulnerability, but through suffering, wisdom and staying strong when everything falls around you, we can forge a person from a shallow existence into a veritable king around mortal man.

Upon a day, when each man stands tall, follows the correct path and holds the hands of loved ones, each king will find their castle and place the bricks upon the land. Upon that day, the queen and king will become the strength to which all will behold. The five senses we hold close to us, are not the source of any power or fortitude, as a man’s strength lies deep within him. No man can stay the same, static, otherwise his life is thrown aside. Those five senses often lie, the conscious mind making decisions that are unjust, unfaithful and inappropriate.

Every king must imagine what he could be, before becoming what he can be. Envision, dream, empower yourself and shift. Reality is ours to control, before the dark and final curtain descends upon us. Above all, no matter what a king understands, no matter the wisdom, the choices made, he’ll be absolutely nothing, without a Queen that sits by his side. She will not use lust against her king and he, at the same time, will keep his willingness in check. She is his hidden strength, the order brought forward to quench his inner chaos.  A king looks for one woman, to be his shield, his strength upon the hard days and his peace when the weight of the world presses against their lives. A worthy woman may never become a queen until, upon a given day, she finds her king (King plus King, Queen plus Queen or King and Queen. Love is… ). A king, above all else, even when the home within which they rest burns around them, will protect his queen above all else. This IS his duty. The children amongst them, his very breath, and without them by his side, he can never be the king he swore he would be.

Such is the will of a king. He bears the burdens of life, for himself and his family. He acquires wisdom from any wealth of teaching and implements knowledge with vast understanding of that wisdom. He is decisive, speaks the word and follows that word with action. Without action, a king is to become nothing. All of this, everything, for his queen.

Experiment

Day 01:

Today, I decided to do something a little different. I know who I am or, at least, I thought I did. Life has a way of creeping up on you and, when you’re happy, it can kick you in the behind. Life can hurt. Life can be amazing. Life is. That’s as simple as it can be explained. Which path, which direction, which thought, will change a person forever. Are we happy, or are we living a lie? One thing is for sure, we hardly ever fix ourselves. Just when you think that you’re okay, there’s another layer to unravel. To expect perfection from another person, let alone yourself, is idiocy running at extreme levels.

I’m here, in this small little house. It’s basic, one single room, with only the absolute essentials to keep me occupied. I’m not permitted to leave this place, but the view from the large window, oh the view, is something to behold. The world is full of beauty and yet, we often allow our thoughts to create devastation to ourselves and others. Especially, the people we purport to love.

That’s why I’m here. No excuses. No lies. No alterations to escape what needs to be done. It’s just me, my mind, my heart and anything in between that they create.  I might even find my very soul and hopefully, purpose.

Day 05:

So many people state that they’re lonely. You’re not alone, truly alone, until it’s just you and you. Nothing else. No pets, kids, partners, family or any other distraction we use to run away from ourselves. I’m here. I cannot escape. I signed the page, and the waiver is astronomical. I accepted this. I’m not climbing the walls, just yet, but I’m suffering. I’m hurting. My mind. My thoughts. They’re hurtful, degrading, shameful expressions of how I see myself. If you were here, you’d more than likely think the same thoughts. We need to let go of the past moments. Every negative notion, word or expression, is part of the old story. It’s done. You can hardly even prove that the situations of old resided within a point of time. Outside of this room, this sculpted hut, I cannot provide proof that the world exists. The supposed 3D, the sights we envision, the smells that we sense, the touch of fingers upon skin, are they real?

I want to leave, but I know that I should stay. This is an experiment, but I really knew that it wasn’t. Too many excuses. Too many self lies.  Don’t run from yourself, as you’re all that you have. Be kind, be brave, wrap your own arms around your body and tell yourself that it’s okay. It will all be okay.

Day 10:

I’m… confused. My only companion, my singular friend, is the person that lights the fire outside the cabin. I want her to speak to me, but that’s against the rules. I haven’t spoken to a single soul, other than my own, in ten days. Then, just then, maybe that’s not true. Maybe every singular thought, tied to emotive energy, flows from me into the ether and strikes against the soul of another. I cannot prove this. I do not know. Radio waves fly through the skies. Bluetooth. Wireless. The proof is there but, hidden from rational teachings. I want the world to mean more to me. I need something else from the world. Wants, needs, are nothing when compared to desires.

I might be going a little crazy. Maybe we’re all crazy, masquerading ourselves to the puppet master’s tune.  Conform. Wear the clothes we tell you to wear, follow, be the same as everyone else. It’s all there in front of us. I’m shaking my head. I’m not here to resolve society’s issues, as I’m here for me. For once, just me, myself, the I within ‘I am’.

Day 15:

Go deep. Even if you have to witness the darkest parts of yourself. All the dank, desperate, despicable emotions buried within. Hold them. Feel them. Let them escape. When you’re down at that level, as low as you can be, you create new roots from whatever ashes you find. Maybe deep depression is something that we all must suffer within our lives. It’s not nice, it’s not poetic or something to shout about, but it’s there. Hold yourself and cry. Let it breath within you. All the moments of despair, loss, suffering and bile.  Let it out.  How can a person tower into the sky, with brittle roots? Eventually, through false notions, we come crashing down. Again. Create solid roots from your sadness.

I’m both proud and ashamed of my thoughts. We are not all meant to be angels. That’s a fallacy, a falsehood that only blind vagrants could believe. Be as authentic as you can be, as you crawl through your own mud. I’m not going to run, or hide, as that’s impossible. Face the demons, or they will taunt you for the rest of your life. Then, upon the day of your end, they’ll remind you of all your mistakes.

I am the sum of my memories. I am a child of my thoughts. My actions are mine alone.  Create your roots within the dark, to ensure the sunshine never burns you to your end.

Day 20:

I don’t know what day it is. I’ve revised so many moments within my memories. Nothing exists outside of this place I’m locked within. I have my thoughts and finally, they are of peace, love, remembrance and this very moment as I’m writing many words. I don’t know where I’m going, just yet, but I’ve envisioned a new home, with someone. Someone special. A new start. It’s what I’ve always wanted. I know that I ‘have’ to be a King amongst men, for the Queen of my life. It’s an odd set of words to use and yet, we love the words spoken upon the screens we find ourselves engrossed within.

I now know that every single thought, creates my reality. I am, more or less, the only person that can change my life. One singular moment can and will destroy so much work, so much peace, but that’s more than likely from my own fears being projected to the world around me. Before I sleep, I must never think ill or negative thoughts. We do not know the power we hold within, despite watching or reading so many magical stories. We’re grounded, but not in a beautiful way, a stranded fashion of the world’s order.

Day 25:

The final day. I am at peace. Solitude, the soledad of my mind, is essential. No longer will I fill my days with vapid television, adverts or meandering moments. I have suffered, mentally, for the longest of times. I have tasted such loneliness and yet, managed to surface on the other side of the most torrential, fierce, destructive notions created from this conscious mind of mine. It’s okay, it’s meant to be, as I know myself far more than I ever have. I now realise how my own mind works. So simple, yet ever so complex.

I’m free, as much as I can be free, from an experimental twenty-five days of solo life. I spend most of my normal life in the same way. I’m never alone, as I’m here within myself. If I cannot find the answer, I will envision the solution. If I do not know the path, I will create the path. If I walk alone, I will ask for someone’s hand to accompany mine. 

I am, after all, the never ending experiment.

Artery

Daniel looked out of the window, exhaling softly, moving himself ever so slightly to gather comfort from the soft pillow behind his head. Emotionally, maybe even physically, it hurt, from every corner of his mind, it hurt so very much. He blinked twice, possibly wondering that if he did so, it would change anything within his soul. It wouldn’t, it shouldn’t, as it couldn’t possibly do so.

All of his misdemeanours, committed crimes and worse, continued to haunt his thoughts. He truly thought that an eye for an eye was the current climate of his life. He’d treated people to untruths, white lies and more, over his many years and now, maybe his karma had finally arrived. It mattered not that he’d suffered over and over again, when it came to relationships. This was, after all, his script, his play, his inner worth and more at work. He held the pages and he’d written the stories for others to enact. He knew that if his own self worth wasn’t where it should be, his energy would reflect such a state. The actors, within his play, enacting their parts with aplomb.

He felt his emotions stir, memories returning once again to haunt his waking slumber, as two tears moved from either eye. The warm, wet emotions, falling around either side of his face. He knew that both tears were, if he embraced honesty, pure, innocent, deep pain, falling away from his very soul. He knew that he’d soon, very soon, no longer cry but until then, it still all seemed so difficult.

He was a man. A male. A person that wasn’t supposed to feel or, at least, suffer in such ways. His support structure, small, his independence, the only thing he seemed to cherish. He wanted to scream, shout, thrash about within his bed, but that wouldn’t be sensible as his energy levels had, once again, reached the same old low. Night after night, month following month, the broken sleep slowly grinding him down.

He looked up to the stars and, as he stretched out his arm, his hand reaching towards some imaginary salvation, he opened his imagination. In front of him, appeared a glowing image. He focused through his tear-filled eyes, slowly, gradually, as an actual angel appeared within his view. Daniel’s eyes widened at such a fabricated image but, seeing as he’d created such a moment, he embraced his thoughts.

The angel smiled the warmest, most tender smile he’d ever seen.

“What’s wrong?” asked the angel, as Daniel’s heart seemed to glow within his chest.

“I have a broken heart,” he stated, with cracked words, as more tears arrived to his eyes, “her emotional attraction simply fell and I wasn’t enough. Whatever I am, however I was, no longer what she wanted!”

The angel smiled, as she replied,

“My child. Hasn’t this event made you a smarter, more knowledgeable, more repentant angel? Your ego has been reset. Your self-esteem has levelled and, above all, you’re reaching within to find salvation! A new path awaits you, no matter who follows alongside or holds your hand!”

Daniel smiled a difficult smile, not able to reject the Angel’s words. Instead, he nodded.

The Angel, leaning forward, reached inside of her own chest. “I shall help you!”

After removing her fingers from within her chest, she held out her hand and, within that hand, rested a glowing aorta, the largest artery within the human body. She slowly, carefully, reached into Daniel’s chest and replaced his artery with hers.

“Now, you have a filter,” she said,  “Whatever your mind thinks, will be filtered before it reaches your heart and, through that, you will allow yourself some space, a little more time, to think clearly with your heart! What will be, will be just that. You own your own life, your own script. The 3D is yours to command!”

Daniel smiled, his tears increasing, as he felt the glow from within his chest. He could feel his heart, beating, thinking, becoming something pure and calm. He looked towards the Angel, into her eyes, never quite imagining that he’d feel something such as this. Upon the earth, the realisation that heaven could exist, within each of us.

He closed his eyes, for the briefest of seconds, opening them to daylight and a new day. His hand quickly shot to his chest, holding, feeling, wondering if it was only a dream. He closed his eyes, listened, knowing, that at times of such struggle, angels would, could and should, surely be looking towards us for our greatest good. Even if it meant replacing an artery, a heart, a soul or even a purpose, they’d make it happen.

 

Please don’t suffer alone. Speak. Talk. Communicate. Always. xx

(Audio will be added on the 8th)