The Ultimate Vampire Resource and Directory

Forsaken Eternity



Prelude:

Tonight there is no needs for words, it is the endless night of nights. It is the eternal night that shall not end and tonight is the night to change it all:

"Consanguinitas atque aequus rosetum vinum.Cave Adsum, ille illiact dice. Justus et puis"The blood and ashes of your kin are like roses and wine.Beware I am here and the dice have been caste.The ever just and fiathful.You ask now who it is I am , but that is not the question,though I shall answer such. You come seeking my kin for shelter and for love and hence shall you find family do you not, but this yet is still now not the question. Who and what and where and when and how shall forever never be the question for such is answered in only time and time itself is that which has stood still, so we have nothing now but Time do we not?The Question is why, but to understand your answer is but your question in itself I shall begin this tale of such with who and in it's pages may you understand the depth of your own answers lest they be your question yet to be unlocked.I may be called many names including Little night crow (Usti svnoyi goga) by some, the DeLeMonico by others, Lady Ebon Nyctenflam or Rayvn. I am a Feral untamed wild talent, plain and simply stated It is the remembrance of the best things about the ones you have loved and lost and remembering why you loved them and dwelling in the good times, The roses are sweet times that give you strength and the wine is like the nectar of life, it becomes your life blood that life they lived and those fond memories, but you shall never forget how they fell or what happened to them or the masterpiece they have written in their book of life. you make them immortal in your remembrance and in writing my own fate I am chaotic and that will effect everyone who comes in contact with me. I am the justicar, my tarot is justice and judgment.It is the fact that I live to serve and protect and care for my own and they have become my lifeblood itself and to this I am just and faithful to it."Look beneath the surface if it is me you wish to find, I am something you have seen once half remembered from a childhood dream. I see the invisible river of tears that run down your face as razors down marble.Sit with me in the darkness while I wipe away your tears. Let my cold embrace wash away the pains of mortality for who knows these feelings more then I. I who art of their creator. I cry for those who cannot, I carry their burdens when they are weak. No they are not strangers unto me, for they are all my kin. Victims of mortality.""We had known what it was to have everything we wanted, Real love, Real security and to lose it all. Sometimes it is not the light in the person you fall in love with, but the dark. Sometimes it is not the optimist you need,but another pessimist to walk beside you and know, absolutely know, that the sound in the dark is a monster,and it really is as bad as you think. Did that sound hopeless. It didn't feel hopeless. It felt reassuring. It felt....real"

"A pessimist is what an optimist calls a realist."

I am a natural born libra with a taste for lovely things all around. Though I do prefer to be surrounded by those who are intellectual, highly intelligent or have innate natural abilities that sets them apart from the rest. Every word is a spell woven and every action is a ritual done.The most complex people are often the most simplistic creatures, unlike anyone others will come to meet. I am a shadow walker who is a child of all walks and a student of life. They tend to be mysterious hard to read and almost impossible to get a solid definition of. If it is wished that one such as thee seeks one as me out, be high of intelligence, highly intellectual and extremely open minded. I am indeed a natural switch with the right person under certain circumstances.I do not trust easily and with that requires time, persistence and patients. I am a student of life and a child of knowledge. I have spent many years delving into metaphysics, occult, theory, philosophy, the sciences of mankind, the beliefs practices and cultures of different societies. As well as religion, principles and the illusions of reality.My world is not simple, it is not tender or constant or caring. It is not patient or compassionate or soft. My world is not simple, it is not a gentle one. Look and you will see it is not kind nor is it forgiving,but I even in my infinite patients and unconditional love cannot help but question my compassion for such a feat as this.For the qualities it lacks I have obtained in its amusement.I write for the passion of it, nothing more nothing less. That passion for my poetry and research is also in my artwork and drawings. In thus it will shine through with the words themselves and the depiction of each individual piece as a masterpiece and in such I will accept no less from myself in my constant ever evolutionary state of being. I am a child of knowledge and a student of life. My dedication is understanding what lies in the blood of reality beneath the skin and to holding no illusions presented thereof. My path is taking information transmuting it into knowledge and through my sharing of it creating wisdom and living through the experience of it.This is a piece of what I am, mayhaps not who, but what. the who shall come later in the complexity of all things. If you make it to the end of my profile, in a way only then will you just begin to scratch the surface of who I am, for such comes later.Welcome indeed to my world and mayhaps if you are masochistic or sadist enough you will learn to enjoy and or love it as I do."Oh and if they want my damn blood they can wait till I'm done using it, until then it's mine. How could I leave the two stooges there to die, especially since I'm the goddamn third one"

Come seeking and you shall find the answers.

I have many interests that occupy my mind and time and enjoy involving others in my activities. I am currently working on my secound book called The Key to Immortality, my first being Forsaken Eternity. I enjoy music drawing, writing poetry, clubbing, raves, enjoying the company of those who have similar tastes and beliefs. I like travel, adventure, sparing with friends, swimming, mideavil reenactments, spending time with my pack and rough housing.I enjoy writing and drawing. Most of my research has had offers to be published in scientific journals and some of them I have indeed excepted. I love to sing ,to dance, to spar, to draw, to write, and to teach metaphysics, discussion is more then welcome, but be warned I have a tendency of picking a side opposite of the one presented and debating it weather or not it is what I actually believe, for the sake of seeing all sides.If charm, glamor, charisma and presence was all the world was based on there would be no need for the intellectually elite.Come now,Open minded individuals willing to challenge ideals and intellectualism able to hold conversation on many things including but not limited to theory, philosophy, practice, belief, music, the influences of political and social evolutions on the arts, sciences and literature of history up to date. I would be interested in people who have unique ideals and their own belief system. The shadow is not the absence of light but mearly the absorption thereof.All people from all walks of life are welcome, though those of you judgementalist be forewarned one such as I have no place in the holdings for closed doors that will not open.

"Evil can only ever truely destroy evil, Good can destroy evil for a time, but when powerful evil is destroyed, it leaves a void, which, in time, is filled by only a greater evil. however when evil destroys evil, that evil steps into the void, and all that evil controlled is now at the disposal of the new evil. now say, evil is destroyed by evil that is actually good then the good evil steps into the void and seals it. when one who can assume an evil form steps into the void and reverts to its true nature, then all that the old evil had, must now either align to good or be thrown into destructive chaos and be destroyed. In effect the void is filled, and converted to good"

It isn't the message or the chosen messenger, it's the motive. One must not kill the messenger, but it messenger is not killed if they never reached the gates to begin with."Those who accept the ability, become the channel for it and the ability themselves, those who deny the ability become tools of the ability for it's use, those who fall to the will of the ability are consumed by it wholly, those who master the ability direct it with their will alone. Beware the choice beware making it."If indeed you have read this far mayhaps you shall learn the most about one such as I, Mayhaps you shall continue searching for the answers to questions not yet asked. Come seeking and the questions for your answers shall become apparent as the answers you have sought become the questions themselves. Take nothing on faith unless self proven before the holding of thy own mind. Trust not before the understandings have been woven of their limits. Hold fast not to the illusions of reality for such sweet tethers shall leave you wanting.Statically those with my childhood will have snapped, committed suicide, overdosed, or like such things with an end result by the time they are 25. My mentor at the time meant well when he showed me this statistic sheet. Told me there are hundred of things in a lifetime to die for, but find one things to live for. Things will come and go , they will come and pass but find one thing to live for and always remember it. Only then would I have the chance to overcome even those odds. Even now I see the flames of my passion burn before my eyes and I spent a lifetime holding people at arms length and pushing them all away to protect them from my loss. I want to be remembered when i am gone, not for the monster I will be in the end, but for everythgin I did before I died. I want to be remembered by the sum of what I have accomplished in my lifetime, so i live day by day, night by night. I'll teach as many as I can and help as many as I can, my one thing to fight for in this life is love.

Not the love between two people, but unconditional all encompassing love.That love between two soul mates or between to twins, that love between to great fighters. The one thing I live for is that fight. Not the physical battle because that alone is in itself not enough, that in itself , But the greater struggle that encompasses everything from the good dark to the evil dark to the good light and the evil light, the shadow and the neutral, the balanced and the chaos, the equilibrium of sorts.. Do not get me wrong I am as dangerous as that which came before me and that which will come and indeed I am not a creature of light. The fields will lay crimson in the end just the same, the wheel will keep turning, but the ripples I will have caused will echo for all eternity from the brief 3 seconds of my life as they do far all. The sacrifice in the dark where no brother will remember my name, for the sake of another like myself. To walk each time into the deep personal hells and bring those from bended knee and reteach them how to fly, to mend their wounds and to make their armor impenetrable. To wander the most treacherous paths without a light safely to lead home those whom have strayed too far and thought to be lost. I am that dark shadow fire that burns with out needing that light. Shadow isn't the absence or presence of light but the absorption there of, nor is the the absence or presence of dark..Yet it is indeed both simultaneously.Have you ever looked at the stars at night, tot he inky blankness, the pure potentiality, the endless everlasting nothing that it is? That is hope. Only in the darkest corners, the roughest and most treacherous times can you actually see it like that dark shadow fire. I stand here and I look out around me in this world of darkness and I remember that it is easier to give in , let that flame die and become an evil, then it is to feed that inner flame, that will. It takes one of great character , strength will what ever you wish to call it, to feed that fire to change it evolve it.As long as there are still those who fight there is hope enough for an entire race, and I am that hope, mayhaps we are that hope. WE are born with the ability to create, recreate, change ,evolve , adapt, overcome anything and everything. Our own perceptions create the experience we consider reality and from it our judgment and self is born. We create ourselves, program ourselves, change ourselves and chose what we become.

We write our own fates on the blank slate that we carve not our destiny for we are the summery of everything we were to become what we are now.WE are made strong by the pains and tortures we have suffered and the things we have weathered. We are tempered by the hells we have endured and the fortified by the wounds we have covered. We walk and chose our own paths and we create them as we go by the duty and the purpose we give ourselves. I have come to learn some of the longest lessons in life the hardest ways and i have come to love it. Mayhaps that makes me wrong, but it doesn't matter it is what is right for me.In the end we will all be crimson lain and another will take our place and what will we have accomplished in a lifetime? What will our existance have meant in the time of 3 seconds? Everything one does, it shall be done to the best of their ability with everything they have and empowered with every passion they have.In the end everything we do is just everything we've done.We are given the choice to build it up or destroy it as we pass it by to allow another to build from the foundation, for to change the current course take an effort equal to that of the current path. We chose to be creators or destroyers and in the end we all play our part in the grand cascading scheme. WE will either learn to evolve to adapt to overcome or we will fade away and be consumed by those who can. We will create another shell of flesh to take the place of the old one or we will mesh with other energy and become forgotten in the fray. Will we Either gather the strength to forge our own way or we will fall and be swept into the tides and crushed beneath the turrenting waters.Reality is not soft or kind or gentle or hard it just is. It is pure potentiality, the nothing vs the one. the nothing, the endless sea of energy, the pure potentiality. The one is the nothing that has become aware of itself created a space that is not itself , filled that space with itself to study and understand itself.

I spoke once to my students offering but a simple regard in what they may learn in stating I hope you dance like no ones watching, walk softly for the land feels your steps, find your art itself and perfect yourself in it to no end, eat your fill but always keep that hunger for knowledge and above all no matter where you go and what you do, when you stand before the eternal ebon vale of twilight I hope you still feel small. That every life is sacred for it's purpose in and of it's own accord. for each life taken a death is given in honor, for each death given in honor a life is taken in servitude, such is the code of rite. The past is a ghosted mirror in which to view the future. We can choose to build an empire from the tools we hath gathered of it's fragmented shards and create the palace of the eternal now. Or we can choose to cling to those shards and allow them to bleed us dry. For those who dwell in the house of yesterday are doomed for their mistakes and trials to repeat. Those to live in the palace of the eternal now each day build the house of tommarrow in which we shall dwell in the in between of all things to experience.In such places I have come to know as the self , I walk among many but am touched by few. I see the hearts of all the pass and want to smirk at their petty deliverances, seeking sanctuary in towers of self created illusions, tied down, strapped away to the razor wire wall of humanity. Shall I leave it to your quarry of such creatures, or all them to bare the fruit of another who bares the mark of the nothing. From visiting places where the silence echoes like a scream and there is no words to whisper the pain of the nothing that are of those creature who bare no form, but are aware.To sit to toy with words and phrases, pass off conversations in entirely mearly to focus on a reflection of a former self? Mayhaps such a snide confidence of ego could be set aside for a term and put forth a better interest for the time being. Or shall we stick with the equivalence of the weather wrapped in circle of polite conversation and endless social graces. Shall I cut to the chase and finish what has been begun before the ripeness of the fruit can come to bare it's acquaintance? Do you come forth casting illusions of predetermined fates, toying with the strings of the conscious surface only to realize the tethers. Do you speak of further conversations, further deliberations from the mold society has crafted to enslave an entire race in blind soul stripping poverty and leave a husk of vigilance behind a false virtue. I am the keeper of secrets and of the woken shards, the framer of realities, the walker of places unventured.Come forth to such a table of knowledge as this seeking to fill a parched thirst that gnaws as a hollowness. Like hunting for something just out of sight, with no solid idea of what it is, just knowing it is that , which the emptiness will fall to the grace of like the strength of the night unto the tears of the cascading starlit velvet?Or mayhaps a curiosity that toys at the remembrance of something on the back edges of consciousness, like a distant calling with no sound way answering?Like the cascade of crimson down black marble steps to pool and congeal before trickling to the next step as the sun traces over the lands with it's firey crescendo.So come now what questions call thy attention upon a creature as myself for whom the shadows weave and the nights radiate their pallid translucent colours across the fresh spill of crimson thru a transient mind of such. You know what I am do you not? Or in such am I not yet to be known.In such I shall assure thee, the accounts presented here are in the upmost truth as you will see it unfold like petals of rose and mayhaps you shall stand in awe as I have and mayhaps you shall weep as I hate, but in your heart shall you know the truth in it's words and may you remember them for Eternity.





Part1

"the sun shall never set the same as the leaves fall upon the still lake of time. Never shall the wing falls on the same breeze and drink of the same waters of life. Though the waters shall always be the same and the wind ever present and alive"

"Weep not for the passing of it's carress, for time is sweet and the lady is gentle though she will not court. Fear not the madness for it will give you strength if you know how to tame it. Fear not the dark for t shall be your best tool if you know hwo to weild it and fear not the workings of the heart for it shall never lead you astray"

"For when the time has passed the memories burn and the pheonix rises from flame licked photographs clean and new. Her wings spread to embrace the fallen still faithful in restoration shall be her gift. Drink of her flames well for in the dark they hold no light and the light iself is but a shadow of a greater light"

"Remember well sweet child the oaths that have been sworn and the words that have been spoken, for once the choice is made there shall be none undone. Remember well the blood that has been taken and the life bonds that have been made, for though the shells may fall away into the ocean of time they shall once again find you anew. that shall be your gift "

When the words have faded and only the pictures remain. With fragments of images made clear. In the flame licked clean places of calm have I found them. The small pieces that once were.In the silence there are words for them no names,no descriptions.For a tome I let go of the words, let go of thier meaning, let go of the connection to thier world and there is nothing but that calm. There is no feeling save for the light and no place save for that which I have found. Time stands still here. Holds no bounds as it falls away. And I see again the face of mine which the masks cannot reveal in whole. I see once more the clear depths of bottom and the resolution is clear like a lense in perfect focus. I see what it is I hav been reaching for and the woven pattern shimmering in the light. Here there is nothing more, though there is nothing less and they cannot touch it. Soon shall I open that door I have closed and soon they shall understand. No words to say, they have all been spoken. They know what it if I feel, but they shall know what I have seen and see it shall they too and then, only then shall I sleep and find rest in it. Yes somethign had to change and if it buys time like nothing else, this is what the ravnos does best, it's time I quit denying it. When my mind is lucid I am as the ravnos, when it is not I am as the malkavian. I spent to much time denying my other nature with thoughts of it's wrongess, but in the end as truth be old it is the greatest gift of all for it can be used as light. I am as the dragonfly I weave the illusions into reality and mayhaps it is time I used the gift of the pheonix and quit denying it. I was lacking words this morning when we spoke, bridges between pictures and words.

I know you will understand what it is I am doing and what it is I must do. Time stands still now like water droplets falling backwards and it is that esence of the gift that makes me untouchable. Bind the bounds that bid the way.For the time is not the time and for it is time I finished accepting what I am and time I embraced the gifts in full I was given, but it is that gift to create the llusion and weave it into reality that makes me see all the illusions of reality for what they are. In such I am secure in the fact I shall not fall for my own illusion in giving that light to others. It is a gift not a curse if it is known how to be used. Once when I was young I knew not how to use it and so I had deemed it somethign it was not in my own ignorance and over time unknowingly using it I perfected it on instinct, now it is time in the etneral now to begin where it had ended full circle had I now come and in such I am ready now.. Now you may know the true meaning. "Tonight is the endless night of nights. Tonight is the night never ending and tonight is the night to change it all. Slowly the images over these weeks of my dream become clearer. They come into view each fragment of that dream once unintelligible rapid repeating as time ahas stopped slowly become clear like glass unmisting from the inside and I see them clearly once more. For only when there are no more words to be spoken and the last drop of blood has fallen from the light in it's slow cascade, is it self sustaining. The weaver of dreams into reality, of the illusion of what could be into reality almost tangible and the pieces are becoming clearer this time as they did not when I was young. Slowly they are forming the picture of something and I see my reflection of who I am in the water below. For that which the masks are only pieces of, who shall see every misted mirror of mask and put the pieces together until they become clear once more and see what they have yet to see.. The malkavian riddles of my mind put to type slowly work themselves out in the ravnos in me until they become clear and the images from the fragments slowly become whole again. I sit here in anticipation as the pieces unfold but I neither step towards them or away from them. In two years it is not that which is outside of me that I will slay and thus create the danger of not rising. It is not that which I have loved that will betray me deathly to the point of which that it will only ask for death and another else. It will return back to the end of the beginning. It will return back to the third death of myself in this life and the third soul wound. This week or so I shall spend with the dream that has woven itself into reality will lock the final piece in place and so the wheels have begun to stop. It is that love that I have denied for years no matter how many times it has called from it's grave. The ghosts have made thier parole as I have called them back on thier oaths, mayhaps of my own will mayhaps the will has worked itself. I walk between the threads of the woven tapestry of fate and I reweaved the tatted threads, Mending the tapestry again and in my dreams I have seen it standing before me like a great wall. I have found my own thread many lifetimes ago which had been cut short by a hand not of the fates and not of my own. But it is that hand I shall once more face in two years time but I have long forgiven him and the gift he has granted is beyond is knowledge for he remembers not his place nor that which he has done those lifetimes ago. It is like a key slowly turning and after the lock has opened time has stood still as the door vanishes and what is behind it was never there to begin with, never locked away and it was mearly the key that turned the lock. Only when the blue ribbon falls will I see his eyes and shall he remember his deeds. And then only then will his dreams of war fall short. For it was that blue ribbon then that sealed the fate of all present and the night the oaths were sworn in blood, by ritual never to be undone lest the tapestry itself becomes unwoven. It will not be the outside force in two years that it is that which I have dreamed the choice of, but the mirror and when I look into his eyes and see that reflection shall it be known. The story is not yet finished and the words are not yet spoken and so I shall leave you with this put before you. As each piece falls into place shall I write it's memory and it's place in this holding so that mayhaps those who have come shall remember the day before all days of immortal things. Where the lines of light and dark had meshed and there was no right or wrong, just the preservation of innocent lives by the thousands for the price of a few. And so it is here the story has begun and so it is here shall I start my tale. Think back sweet warriors to the night of crimson mist, where the lands of jade were crimson cascades and the river's had run red. Remember if you will but dare the days of crystal self lit fountains that flowed thier streams towards the top instead of the bottom and places of jade skies and purple grounds. Where the winds had whispered and the ground had shifted. To a place in itself where waters whispered lullabys and the night itself was alive. Was it not that life that fed our souls and called our hearts to the moon itself to answer it's beaconing cry.

Was it not that very water that called to our blood with in our veins and brought forth something greater from it's holding.Where our words were oaths in and of themselves and it was an honor to bear the marking of another in thier keeping. In days when the moons and the days were but one and feared not for the passing of the next. Days and nights in the eternal now where we were aware of our immortality itself and cherished it. Now the dust has settled upon the pages of our books and many look back forgetting thier immortality in lustful wander looking the the key of that essence that have let slip thier fingers. That esence itself stilled in flow by the illusions of a reality self created, the dream woven dreamer into reality and have you but all forgotten that it is that dream you wove that tis the illusion. In so you have fallen for your illusions as realities and caste forth your ignorance upon yoru own immortality to live the span of lives half remembered and dreams half forgotten. speak you now of it like mayhaps it was childhood folly that was out grown, but I pray of you to remember when it was real. To the time when we were nto of flesh and bone and that which can be carved in stone. where we were the winds and the rain and the earth and the waters and the fires, where we have washed in and through ourselves in that very carress of understanding. to see with out eyes and hear with out ears and feel with out skin and breath of our own accord with nothing more but the knowledge of eternal knowledge of all that was before us and after us, above us and below us. Here do I sit with the tongues of angels upon my brow , feverantly praying mayhaps you shall one day read your stories and remember you names. That one day mayhaps you shall remember the place of places from whence we came and in that shall it never be forgotten and it shall be rewoven into it's own existance. Pray now the simple word that slips your tongue amores' , that simple word half remmebered but half forgotten in your illusionment and mayhaps you shall have yet the hope to see yet again and hear yet again. Of what I speak some make call the place of forgotteness, but Implore you I, mark that horizon on its blank sheet and caste forth your darings to the venture ahead and in such shall you return from the feast greater then forth you have come. So come forth weary traveler, the door is always left ajar. Glance not back at the barren road that you have come from this many years. May for the first in a long time your weary heart find solace in it's keeping and your weary soul find rest in it's fortelling. From where we came shall we once return until the end of the begining. When one has lost thier way, is it not best to start back at the begining to regain that in new eyes what ancient runs the crimson tides.

Those whom we are called to hold reasons of their own for calling, those whom we hail to hold reasons of their own to live. For to caste such bonds between those and call or hail of them brethren or family, kin or pack is to forge tethers made to hold the gods themselves. Yet to portray such in the light of personal belief , to make others see the grace and the elegance or the sheer beauty with in each of those one has come to cherish and to find the words to describe such things is often difficult.One must find that link and fill themselves with that particular thought and then it shall portray itself beautifully, like a butterfly from a cocoon. To emerge and spread it's wings for flight.For those who know not of what I speak eventually you shall and for those who know of what it is this writtled tongue does whisper in the silence may the moon light thy path, the wind aid thy steps and the shadows protect thee

Part2

For the dreamers weave the visions into reality as boats on the horison of the threshold

From what dreams are we woven and yet what dreams to we weaver and are we the weavers or the woven?

In what shoreless ocean of the tides do caste forth upon the thermals of these dreams. A net caste forth in the light of our existence to say I am here I am now.

Yet for these tides of thermals to rise and fall are we the guided or the the guide, for do we light the darkness or is the darkness the light in which we cannot yet see. And so in such are the tides the pure potentiality we weave to be woven into the dream state or are we figments of our own writing pen?

Is the horizon itself a limitation or a reference point that in itself is ever adapting and changing as the dreamers weave the visions of woven realities.Is it that which there is no limit and view point of ending in the ever broadening perception or is it that which is time itself made possible by the interweaving of the dreamers as a whole.

In such that we create and are created by our own perceptions of the reality we weave as dreamers asleep in the ever waking dream and for such the coconsciousness of all dreamers and the weaving of all woven patterns thus does in such create an existence of pure potentiality in the chaos theorum.So in a sense we exist and yet not exist we are a piece of everything and everything is a piece of ourselves and yet we are nothing entirely.

To be that of all energy in a field of energies patterns where Everything is just a sequenced pattern of energies that influenced and are influenced by each other in such a matter as to create possible outcomes of probability from thier encounters and to understand the nature of each piece individually one can track the patterns and predict thier ending before it occurs thus allowing them to weave different patterns for the outcome they are seeking?



"In the beginning there was the nothing it breathed with out breathe of it's own accord. In realizing it's existance it created a space that was not itself, filled that space with itself to study and understand itself" I think it is a two part process as I had spent three hours the other night working out equations for each step of the process to go from quantum theory to practice to mechanics and such in between to establish a pattern of energy evolution into the material. I incorporate the string theory in with evolution. The physical evolution from a one celled organism through it's environmental adaptations and evolutions of form to be best equipped with meeting the natural course of change in patterns I see as only one aspect.

An evolution thereafter of the mental, emotional, spiritual and such parameters are required to continue the process of evolution due to the mind over matter belief. "True faith in anything manifests results." If one has looked into the 9 in sites of the Celestine prophecy and the 10th insite of this same document provides a possibility for spiritual evolution. Mental evolution requires training as seen amongst many of the Buddhist, Sikhist Taoist and such beliefs to prepare and train the mind and body for such an evolution.If one goes back to the simple alchemy of and just before Neo-platanism or delves into internal, external and sexual alchemy or even the works of St Germain on this type of Evolution it gives a better idea of what I have refered to.



Then again figuring in chaos theory and cause and effect of several energy fields influencing one another and being influenced to plot the course of personal evolution thru ones lessons learned thru the experiences of ones life. Tack on the Enochian concepts of the many layers of realities and how they are set up in correlation to the 30 Eathrys and the tree of Sepheroth or life from the Qabala the concept of evolution is a scientific process of energy evolution through each step or phase of life. then take into consideration the Numerology perspective of bio-mapping due to energy spheres one is born into of the planetary and astrological influences in respect to each number, one is able to learn their life paths and in depth personality facts, strengths weaknesses, lessons they learn in each 9 year cycle and thus to plot the course of their own evolution as a person from the information provided to know what to learn and where to go from there. Shamanca astrology allows for one to see what other influences of the season, moon phase, wind types and such born under will effect their personality and bio-rhythm. Then for one to delve further into the Mayan astrology aspect to understand how each cyclic yearly and monthly influence of energy patterns then thus influences and adds into the lessons or events presented.Taking into consideration the Regular astrology aspect one can thereafter create a very in detail pattern of events provided for such an evolution as a person to take place and what courses they may be prone to take in the process. It's more of a self evolutionary tool. So in such I do believe we are in a constant process of evolution and adaptation as we go through our lives each individually, adding back to the co consciousness of the nothing for self understanding.

"Quantities have no contraries. In the case of definite quantities One quality may be the contrary of another; thus justice is the the same one action be good and bad: this law holds good with wings, but qua winged creature. If, then, the statement is made defect, which is an evil, has excess for its contrary, this also being rectangle, for to neither is the definition of the circle appropriate. characteristic terrestrial is predicated of the species man, the not to a master, but to a man, or a biped, or anything of that sort, is said to be capable of admitting contrary qualities. that he is white, that he runs, and so on, are irrelevant to the grow his grow a new set. iv Statements opposed as affirmation and man, when in such circumstances he loses his temper somewhat, but them, not only if they originate in natural constitution, but also Similarly with regard to softness and hardness. Hardness is predicated the syllables join, but each is separate and distinct from the rest. contrary qualities. From among things other than substance, we subsists also between the species and the genus to which the primary by that name which expresses the correlative notion, but by one of necessary for one to be true and the other false. Health and disease there will be no interdependence if one of the two is denoted, not is present in body, therefore in individual bodies, for if there ii Pairs of opposites which are contraries are not in any way possibility, for neither wholes nor parts of primary substances are is not necessary either that it should see or that it should be blind, already mentioned, and these alone, are in their intrinsic nature he might change completely, or at any rate make very great progress; quantitative, but relative; things are not great or small dispute the possibility of variation here. They maintain that others that they are not present in a subject. For man is existence, and that which does not abide can hardly have position. which either substance or a differentia forms the predicate, these are should naturally be present. We do not call that toothless which has holds good also in the case of speech. None of its parts has an add this condition because, if that to which they are related is Correlatives are thought to come into existence simultaneously. This the parts of number may be said to possess a relative order, though it relative. In practically all such cases the genus is relative, the use the term man in describing the individual; and the definition of others that they are not present in a subject.

Fear not for the lacking of money in yor future, the great mother provides for her children as the great father protects them and the fates teach them For those of you whom have seen me dance, with the grace and flow, with that magic that catches the air and steals your breath with grace and elegance. For that time stopping to stare as your heart beat slows and your focus narrows through the rows of people that fade from your view. Know I cannot move like the buenita la rosa y casa de negro. God she was the queen of that place I had come to know as home In such do I now tell you, when that girl moved ohh dear god that place was on fire.She was gorgeous. Put me to shame until she did that dance move I myself learned from her summoning one of you to take your place at my side on the floor. The double beconing of come hither finger as she rolls her shoulders back and her hips back the same time in an alternative rhthym. I can still remember the feel of that pull, the unwillingness to disobey that summoning, least my breath stop with dead. When I danced with the buenita la roa y casa de negro, nothign but her existed, and we moved as one with out touching as a perfect alternative mirror and the entire place was a magical heaven.She was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen in my life and mayhaps shall ever see again and any one else who attemtped to dance with her shed give that look only latino girls can manage and call me to her with that gesture.Nothing in all of life was more intimate with her nor I then the dance, She moved like silk and flowed like water over marble stairs, Her eyes had this blaze to them and she had this air about her that was enchanting and her scent was that of jasmine and vanilla.At that time I would have given anything for one more dance with her, one more look, one more smile."Her eyes were the colour of insanity"

D would sit back and watch us dance with this look of utter proudness and admiration and that look only male alpha's get of yes that is mine and that look of pure lust.Such a look of admiration of what was his stealing the attention of the audience in awe and jealousy.Such times as this shall be remembered for an eternity and the names forever carved in memory. He would lean back and watch with that look as she called me from his side with that knowing smile and that preditory gleam. God that was my piece of heaven there ashke.And everyone in that room watched with jeliousy and awe becuase her father owned the club. Buenita la rosa y casa de negro, the beauty of the rose and the house of the Blackroses. In such one could say she was my angel ashke. When I first was introduced from the streets into the local group in the area by armand becuase of those he kept company with she was thier queen. Many a night I had attended smaller clubs in the area because of my lack of knowing the social duality presented herein this place of times. Mainly a small goth clubs and the likes, had she attended to see me dance in these smaller clubs for several occasions before approaching me, dressing me and escorting me to her father's club. She took me under her wing as the crazy white cat and taught me how to lose myself in that passion of the dance and worship the music taught me how to take the rage from the day and the firey rebelliousness and that passion of the fight and bring it forth, channel it into something other people would die in a heartbeat for.In such I have told her tale and spoke her name forever more with the soft purr of it on my lips and the gentle longing of ages past. She has been dead for several years now,Her boy at the time did that of which stupidity and egotism hold key, he brought the war of the streets home with him in one simple act,both of them were killed excution style to make a point. you cannot rip certian people off and get away with it. Such was the street life.

Many a night do I hear her sweet alluring laughter still caress my skin and her fire burn with in my own eyes. Many a night Have I taken the floor with her grace and elegance, sweeping glance and enchanting presence of a goddess among men. for these things in a way shall she live on through me, though shall I forever be that ghosted mirror that reflects her echo through time and shall I judge myself lacking ever more. shall I thus forever more bare the name of the Blackrose upon my lips in sweet sighs of passion and shall those lights be forever more etched into my blood and that music with in my veins.Some nights I do still her her sweet melodic voice over the winds and in my dreams do I still dance the dance of life or passion with the goddess. Times in the midst of a dance in my new haven will I catch her scent of jasmine and vanilla and push the limits of the dance for her until the world itself has stopped again and for that moment in time frozen still where the world around me has stopped do I feel her.Do I see her Moca skin and wine lips,taste her passion and my feet hit the dance floor once more to worship her.

Take Heed sweet coming one of whom I beckon forth from the crowds and from the masses, for that dance of life, of magic and of love itself when it has ended I shall depart the same as I had come. I shall take my place upon the floor with that song in my veins and I shall worship it until the night departs and so in such I will depart with it. In time shall you remember mayhaps that magic that was felt, that time of the greatest passion unleashed and of the world standing still and fading away.Mayhaps shall you look back over years and remember that feeling and that place for all entirety, remember that though I am your goddess she was mine. that though I may burn your passions and your desires and your lights to the very end until exhaustion, shall you not once behold the touch of the flesh. Mayhaps well spoken was the bouncer of my recent haven in his stating of my dangerousness.For I dance as she once did, as intimately as any lover with out touch and yet touching parts of thee none other shall beneath the flesh. Yet in that simple breath could then spill such a crimson cascade and in your falling unnoticed as I moved to the next willing participant of the dance. Not missing a heartbeat, nor step, nor batting an eye at your failings. Such a creature as I would not miss thee, would not mourn thee nor love thee or hold thee close. I am her little ice queen forever more and she is my flame of the darkest rose. So came dare to tempt the competition of the ghost for whom's place you compete, but know you shall be left wanting Come dare to prick your heart on the thorns of my passions for that taste of ecstasy, that only heaven can offer and for a time know you have danced with the queen. And for a time all shall be forgotten.

As for my hobby I collect books, I have had the dream of owning my own library since I was young. I have always loved to read and to write. I am currently working on my second book and we shall see how that goes I am currently on chapter 4. My mother put me in kindergarten when I was 4 becuase I read the entire encyclopedia Britannica and was trying to explain it to her book by book. In 6th grade my mother had a specialist come into the school to do a mental evaluation and an Iq test. my Iq at the time was 153 with a collage reading,comprehension and language skill. Further he mentioned Not skipping me grades because I was emotionally stunted and didnt have the emotional capacity to be able to establish bonding or any sort of middle ground with kids my age thus resulting in anti social behavior. Since I had a photographic memory and the inability to have linear time perception he figured maybe I would learn to adapt from it. Since I think in pictures not in words or in concepts, there is a gap between my thoughts and my ability to verbally communicate them leading to a lack of interpersonal skills. So books have been my best friend from an early age because the words become pictures and the ability to write them our or type them to describe the pictures and such in my mind formed a bridge to communication. Books, art, music and learning everything I could get my hands on from belief to theory, practice, language, religion, philosophy and on and on. The cup is never full and the hunger is never quenched. When I read people as I often do, I see images, places, animals, colours, sometimes patterned lines or circles and each has a representation, a symbol as some call it an energy mark or signature. Some days I bridge that gap fluidly and communicate in poetic elegant language like crimson cascading down black marble stair cases to spill to the next step and pool before continuing on in it's crescendo. Seemingly from an endless source and unto no end presented.Other days it is like the still black flames that dance back and forth building in their meaning, in their holding with no translucent light and a cold heat. Such had no outside tap, nor spring to flow forth and such it builds to a great forge and such I become the weaver and the blacksmith. Once the bridge has been let down or built up, the words flow once more from the images to carress along keys and pen strokes on paper to fill endless pages and endles hours. Time times of the black flame I sit and draw, and my passion spring forth not from a common spring with dancing colour and images on canvases . White is the colour of no emotion, it is the colour of forgotten things that are slowly remembering and that first stroke on each page is like a horizon. At times it is the space for the blackness to bleed through, the doorway put forth to offer the page of remembrance that shall partake in it. It is the colour of frustration when where to begin is not the question itself but the answer and that once steady hand now quivering like candle light in an only estate makes that first mark. For the question and the answer are one of the same. All in the details so sift focus on the bigger, better now. Some say we all have virtues that need rending, with laws and systems ripped from the branches of life. The question is simple, do you know what your post entails, Do you serve a purpose or purposely serve? For what could be told better then thru lyrics of music. Mayhaps I am the malkavian or the Ravnos for lack of better idealogical terms. Mayhaps I am the very imbuement of insanity and the weaver of illusions into reality. Mayhaps In such I formulate and construct my own reality from a world of ideals one had yet to but tap into the passions springing forth to understand. Yet to comprehend the essence of this verbiage shall those fall short in the vicissitude of fate? Wind down you mind in the abolistic lore of a summer spent and a winter earned, and for the rest of us, is there really sunday? To wade naked into that bloody pool and place our hand on the big black book, to watch the knives zigzag between our aching fingers. Is thsi forth the world we indeed have created or the world we have learned to adapt to. Is the laws of man or nature the laws we are in the keeping of or are they illusions of guidlines, caste forth in a caress of hope that mayhaps we are all unique, different. Mayhaps yet we are both the more we are different, the more we are the same, the more we change the more we have stayed the same in the ever constant shifting thing called time. So where does this leave us? At the begining or the end, at that blank sheet of white canvas to make that first mark and create a horizon. To merge that ever shifting reference point in an ever shifting world of tides and undoes, thermals and forgotten thoughts. And yet who knows these things as well as I, so into the depth of the minds with debates and arguments and intellectual conversation put forth. Mayhaps to clutch that last shred of the bridge, that last stone of bonding and companionship on the endless sea of cascading tides. In the end of this mayhaps you have the answers and mayhaps you have the question. But it's all in the books and in the art and in the music isnt it? Each note, line picture phrase, a hundred ways to depict the same thing for the understanding of another and in such where does that leave myself? On the teetering edge of uncertainty or in the cascading embrace of knowing?"I've been crawling in the dark searching for answer. Tell me what is for" "If I am consumed by questions like a cancer. then I am buried in the silence of the answer"

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Xzavier
12:10 Oct 18 2008

Stunning!

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