Who is Really Writing?

As if in trance, she watches the pen in her hand creating written beauty on the page. Words flow forth; pen caresses paper from her hand, yet separate from her. She wonders how the magical dance is done, since she has no conscious control. Hand and pen waltzes to...

Life

The blood red moon foreboding against the black velvet sky. Unobserved by many. Merkaba effortlessly glides above – un-noticed – third dimension dwellings. Ignorance self-induced. Training continues – wonders never cease. Previously known –...

Questions…

I’ve finally come to realize, that it is my nature to question. Not necessarily doubt all; but to constantly seek for the new. To limit myself – to accept nothing new – goes against that which I am. I’ve also realized that I may never receive...
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