posted October 18, 2014 01:08 PM            

So, I guess I should ... begin?

I'll do that now. Wish me luck? Most days, I'm convinced I'm crazy. Then something else happens. Things of which others are also aware. It stacks; eventually, creates a picture you just can't deny -- without appearing obviously as one who's refusing to accept something. I'd hate to be a hypocrite. I'm already exploring this in my latest, but longest-running, work. I might as well explore this 'dimension' of it as well.

For the record, this is not a Twin Flame relationship; I am a Twin Flame, but he isn't that. He's something altogether different, and NO less powerful, impacting, and absolutely life-changing.

He's my Guardian Soulmate. And this is my -- our -- story. One of them, at least. The one I know so well; the one that's haunted me for fifteen years; before I ever even met him. Knew him. I still knew him.

posted October 18, 2014 01:28 PM            

It's a rather good description of my life. Many versions, and several of which I'm acutely aware. I don't know why I am as I am, or the greater purpose behind my ability to do this; I just know that I've always done it. In my teens, I had a series of recurring dreams with a progressive chronology lasting years. In my twenties, I would examine the remote possibility that they were separate timelines. I'm one of the few you'll ever meet who can describe in intricate detail places she's never visited. Not in waking life anyway. Places of such rich beauty, or visceral power that they can't help but stay with my long after I've awakened.

Some, such as during what I've humorously coined 'The Medium Years', involved my being several individuals and seeing some rather gruesome things; waking, without waking. Hypnagogic states. Astral projections. Night terrors. Brutal murders. Disasters. Death. Lots of death.

Then I met him.

Actually, that's not fair. Let's back up; take it back to 2001. 27th of January; the birthday of one Charles Lutwidge Dodgson, far better known as Lewis Carroll. In beginning the project that would bring me a surprising notoriety, the deeper research it engendered also led me to discover my being a distant relative of Dodgson, on my mother's side. Complete with schizoid personality, complex pattern migraine headaches, and ... a goofy relationship to time.

It was that day which I would begin to pen a tale about someone who also has a troubled relationship with time; a Mad Hatter the likes of which the world hadn't yet -- and still hasn't -- seen. I would quickly learn his name is Penderan Fauste; I'd know the spelling of the surname to be exactly as so -- and his given name to be one that isn't quite in existence.

Then, as February dawned, I'd sit back and contemplate my work; especially, my young female protagonist, who, like Fauste, I'd learnt was named Riley Wingate. He was sprung from the seed of Thomas Harris' Dr Hannibal Lecter, and she from his Clarice Starling -- which the world met in 'The Silence of the Lambs' -- a film and story which terrified me until I myself faced-off against homicidal psychopaths.

But, again, I'm jumping too far ahead. I do that. My own sense of time, chronology, and direction is a bit ... scattered.

It was clear to me she was an Alice figure, setting about on the mad adventure of her life, trying to unravel mysteries, meet wonderful and unbelievable people, and take in some very valuable lessons.

Which is pretty much my own life in a nutshell.

I've always wondered -- what went on the day, during that time -- that this project, HUNTING ALICE, was conceived? What influences were driving its creation -- or revealing elements about the project I didn't even realise yet existed? Was there anything immediately pointing to its bizarre nature? That it would be far more than a creative project -- and rather integral to my own life and soul's evolution? Is the karma present there in the charts during its development?

posted October 19, 2014 12:33 PM            

We good?

Frankly, I don't even see what's that dramatic. Determining a relationship is crossing temporal and dimensional boundaries? Well, then. Guilty.

posted October 19, 2014 02:54 PM            

Cappy,

posted October 19, 2014 03:14 PM            

I feel like the wound I had to dress last night, unexpectedly. I'd neglected to give it the proper care when it happened -- dabbing the area with a bit of alcohol and going on about my day. It must have required more attention, as it smarted something awful in the hot bath. Emerging from it, I noticed three small-yet-sizable round gashes, from where the scabbing had prematurely soaked and dissipated. I stared at it for a while, in wonder, taking in the source of the pain. I'd never had a scab somehow be removed before its time; I was always so careful.

My whole being has been that way for the most of October -- and especially this past week. Raw, unnaturally sensitive. Exposed. iQ informed me of an exceedingly rare, 'one in a million', SR aspect which has great karmic significance.

You remember the day that Arthur Dent met Ford Prefect? The way he was informed, in one fell swoop, that aliens exist (by default) and the Earth is being destroyed, and how his concept of reality went *pop!* -- not unlike his brain? Sorry for 'being dramatic'. Scully didn't have the easiest time accepting what we all knew (that Mulder was right), either. I've always been a Scully; never a Mulder -- and my concept of reality has gone *pop!*.

posted October 19, 2014 03:57 PM            

Hope you feel better soon!

posted October 19, 2014 03:59 PM            

quote:

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Originally posted by I'm so cappy:
I'm sorry that I offended you.

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Awwww!

posted October 19, 2014 04:45 PM            

quote:

---

Originally posted by I'm so cappy:
I'm sorry that I offended you.

---

Thanks, Cappy. I'm not trying to be dramatic. I'm attempting to be real about something I denied for the past fifteen years. Everybody, it would seem, sees this, but me. It doesn't fit into my reality paradigm, and thus, isn't allowed to be on my radar.

I'm not sure what's changed.

I think it how much it's stacked in the past four years. You'd think I would've thought that driving the same model, make, year -- and then independently painting it the same colour -- of car, the same skill set, the same family dynamics, the same bizarre phobias, the fact he also grew up 30 minutes from me, despite us meeting far from our hometowns, having the same appearance, and the same unique vocal features -- even wearing the exact same attire in which I'd had promo photos taken a decade prior -- you'd think this would be enough.

It wasn't.

Evidently, on top of all of that, it took his casually describing his childhood room -- the one he designed. (I can't even tell him this. I can't. It's too close. It's too much. Even he will ... he'll get that faraway look in his eyes, like he doesn't know what's going on anymore, and I won't be able to be the logical one and laugh it off. Because when his logic quits, mine takes over. It hasn't been able to recover so well lately.)

But it was exact. He described it in such perfect detail, I couldn't help but gasp. He thought I was alarmed or amused at his selecting Electric Blue as the colour of paint -- because, Electric Blue. Who would ever? I hadn't told him it was because, in the novel, (of which he's only read excerpts) it was Electric Blue. Because it was. And I'd only written what came to me, as if -- tin inpunded -- out of the blue. The Electric Blue room, in the glamourous home, in which 'everything else was Victorian, except for his room, which could only be described as strangely modern and futuristic'.

He might as well have been paraphrasing from my novel. But he wasn't. He was describing his own personal experience. I felt, as he did so, that blanks were being suddenly filled; now I knew why the decor was so different; why it was blue. Why so futuristic. Why, to God, anyone would have a fluorescent bank of lights in their home. But he did. And so did he.

I can't keep it straight anymore. Call me dramatic; fine. My head is spinning.

posted October 19, 2014 04:47 PM            

quote:

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Originally posted by Ceridwen:
I always considered myself to be more Mulder-like, and then got surprised realizing how much Scully there really is in me underneath.
Possibly I have a bit of both. Must be the curse of the Aquarius Moon, bringing the extreme ends together to produce a flatline.

---

Oh, do I relate to that one. I thought the same. Until I was REALLY faced with the REAL possibility this is REALLY happening.

Then I just check out. Nope. No way. Does not compute. THAT can't happen. I cling to science like a shield, wielding Occam's Razor like the trusty blade that's never, ever failed me.

It's failed me.

I'm at a total loss.

posted October 20, 2014 04:38 AM            

These things happen, the "knowing someone" before you know them. Call it the mass subconscious, reincarnational resonance, soul links... The physical theory behind it is obviously unclear. But we know it happens, and it is not all that uncommon. It comes out with people in different ways. With you it came out in the form of a novel. Hey, at least you got something tangible out of it.

I had similar experiences. I had dreams of the man before I met him, since I was a child.

Have you considered going through regression therapy with a reincarnation specialist? If you're comfortable with that, it might help you find the ends of some of those strings.

posted October 22, 2014 07:45 AM            

I`ve had several sequential dreams myself, over a period of many years. I would be writing about people, conversing with people, I thought were coming from my imagination and then sort of fell into my life, occasionally.
And well, whenever I was writing, it was so weird as I was really talking to these characters, and only if they were willing to share their secrets with me, i could continue writing. Often the twists were rather surprising to me.

i am relatively sane otherwise.

But having this very vivid imagniation. I also seem to remember things that can`t have happened, that I know did not happen, and yet I remember them as if they had.
Feels sometimes like an overlapping of .... something. I am never sure of what.

Past life recalls?
Parallel (dimensional) lives possibly? (though I haveīt made my mind up about those yet).
Tapping into some subconscious or supraconscious content of other souls (possibly related to me, or my soulgroup)?

Who can really know for sure.

posted October 22, 2014 12:22 PM            

And there is nothing crazy about a belief in twinflames or whatever. That is what a belief is about - believing. Not knowing. Not scientific facts (and well, how long is a fact really a fact?)

FOR YOU it might sound crazy, as you don`t share the belief. But that does nto make the belief crazy in itself.

Being called crazy - to some - is an insult of mental capacities, for others it is just some more proof of them being highly individualistic and special (of course we all are, every singl eone of us).
It all comes down to a matter of perspective.
But be prepared that your personal connotations of a certain adjective may not be easily shared or understood by others, and if they judge it negatively, they will react defensively.

Of course that is a general trait in communication, but it gets more difficult on a public forum like this, and probably especailyl during Mercury retrograde.

posted October 22, 2014 01:11 PM            

[...]

to express his perception of the unseen currents of life through devotion to his own unique spiritual path, or through the arts, where the inner world of images and symbols captures his attention. Through art, he can create a reality which extracts the essence out of daily living experience and forms a myth which transcends the limitations of the historical time in which he lives. "