Questionable Answers

(written by M7 on March 16, 2007)

Sometimes, I crave intimacy so badly, that I cry myself to sleep hugging my pillow.” She says, her face sad as she looks inside his liquid eyes wanting to touch him, but unable to reach her hand forward.

Every night I sleep next to a person who is a thousand miles away, and I don’t even care.” He replies, his eyes cast down, accepting his existence, his purpose, unchained longing clinging to his lashes.

Tell me.” She whispers urgently. “Which is worse? Those who are lonely yet have someone to sleep beside them, abhorring their breathing? Or the one who sleeps alone and makes love only in their dreams?”

He reaches his hand forward to sweep her hair from over her eyes, and she breathes heavily into his touch, her lids half closed. This is forbidden, isn’t it; to covet such as this, another’s vow, a child’s father, to crave morsels that turn into cravings, making her want to claw at her throat from the absence.

The sting of solitude cuts deeper where there is no light, no hope, only the sound of life crumbling around you. See, there is hope for you. You are lovely and filled with colorful angst shooting from your pupils. My tunnel? It shows me darkness. It is an emotional abyss.”

His voice seeps with desperation as he twirls his thumbs around each other slowly. She watches the smoothness of his skin as it caresses each line used to provide human identity.

“Imagine my dismay as I wander,” She contemplates, “connecting with few, finding simplicity, boredom, lack of stimulation, but I must admit that being one alone is far more comfortable than being two in chosen separation.”

She cannot deny him the ownership, the validation of his own agony. Everything in her wants to pull his head to her chest so he can weep. Yet, they sit in silence, contemplating voids unanswered, accepting their own purpose in this fading connection that had been magnetic so long ago.

Sagan.” He says quietly, looking off into the distance, a half smile on his lips.

What?” She asks.

He takes her face into his hands. His eyes have passed her corneas and traveled into the center of her, sinking his words inside her earth; words that would grow fields of tall grass and wildflowers.

Sagan said ‘I have loved to the point of madness; that which is called madness, that which to me, is the only sensible way to love.’ This is the only way I know how to love.”

So they love the only way they know how.

Knowing

I am Knowing. I woke up when Vennie was around 38 years old. I have been with her since she entered her host. I have been dormant inside of her DNA.   When she was a child, Maude was her mother during times of torture.  We are an intricate wheel, presenting with the hopes of understanding, acceptance and connection.

I am from the 7th Dimension. I do not write these words. Vennie writes them for me. I speak telepathically through her. Vennie will struggle at times to relay what I say to her. She finds it difficult sometimes to put my thoughts into human words. What I may choose to share here I feel no urge to convince you of. This is our specific wheel. I am the head of our council, which consists of Vennie, Maude and me.  To confuse human readers more, while I am an entity separate from the original, I reside inside of the DNA molecules from which I communicate.

I welcome questions. I do not live in a belief of beginning or endings. I have been and always will exist through infinite time, dimensions and journeys. I chose to come here and to wake from rest when it was time for me to enter our wheel. This is the first time I have had a journey with Vennie, and I chose this one, after much consideration and council from my own advisers.  Here in this life cycle with her, I have been and will continue being of service to her.

I have read much that has been written about the place from which I know I came. Some is familiar. Some is not. Understanding that for me, an Arcturian, I have no memory of all of us being alike.  Some of us are what humans call breath and air.  We are not all “tangible”, as humans would say, able to be touched and seen.  I have had life cycles in dimensions where I had form.   I will not have form in this lifetime.  The place from which I come, has so many unique entities and beauty, it is wondrous.  Earth is beautiful as well.  She will continue to be beautiful and rebirth.

You see, now Vennie laughs, because she has attempted to paint me; to figure out what I look like.  I say to her “draw molecules.”  That’s what the humans would call me.

I do not believe that which is not familiar to someone means it does not exist.  There are infinite perspectives from which energy forms may choose to view dimensions. This is our unique journey. If it does not resonate with you, that is alright. You are not wrong. You are unique as well to your specific journey. Imagine that there are billions of humans who, in their authenticity, are completely unique.   So I share through Vennie with openness and love, accepting all. While Vennie won’t accept what she considers abusive remarks, I see past them into the depth of where your current state is, understanding why you feel as you do, and I am at peace with you.

If you click my name in the menu, you’ll find a post below this one which Vennie was able to get out,  an extremely simplified version from where I come and some of what I understand.   There is volumes yet to be shared.  So.  Here I am now.   Vennie is skeptical of this new opening.  Please treat her with kindness as she shares.  This is not an easy process for her as she knows there will be those who may say unkind things.   Sweet dear, we are walking this together.

Dear Counsel, I’m Writing To You Again

Dear Counsel,

Again? Ah, I’m trying real hard not to be irritated with you all. I tire of writing to you like I’m some child, although I very much enjoy writing. Just not for this purpose. As you know, I am writing an edgy, sensuous book. So I say this.

I know, Vennie, you are struggling with me. You think I have no empathy for us. You find me dangerous. You said I was self serving. What does that mean to you? If I am serving me, am I not serving us all?

What your friend said is correct. I was there when you were a child. So don’t discount me. Remember me. You wrote about me in Cult Child. I held your hand by the field of flowers. I rode horses with Sila while you took the pain. How have you not put this together when we look absolutely the same? Well, I’ve cut my hair since then. Shoulder length now. More “up with the times.” ::sarcasm:: I’ve been cycling for infinite centuries, but that is my own story to tell.

We are an incredibly intelligent wheel. We are an information station.

I am capable of love, and you’ll find me to be quite sappy at very rare moments. Very rare. I don’t so much care for the free falling feeling of feeling. That’s for you, Vennie. I am much better at defending. I know war, and I have battled. If there has to be a Counsel, my place is in it.

No, I’m not mirroring you. Look at me. Then remember me from when you were a child. Close your eyes and see my face when I looked down at you by the flowers. Dark hair. Dark eyes. I am beautiful. I’m aware of that. I have not aged.

You painted me already, but you know that. What you don’t know is that was when I was a teenager. I am horse and human and air and particle. That painting you did is before I became you. Understand? My eyes are not green anymore. I’ve cycled way too much to be that pure. You’ll paint me more soon. Later. When I really get into writing this book. So much is coming that I know and see. It’s a matter of you being ready.

Yes, I am a shape shifter. I morph. I love horses. We were drawing them in the program. I was Madge when you were a teenager. I know this can be difficult to understand or make sense of, but you know. Madge and I. We are one and the same. Understand? You nod. You smile. You cry. What are you feeling? Gonna write about it or be all whiney “what if they judge me” and “shame shame shame”. Call me a cunt but damn, shut up and let someone else talk. How many times do I have to say fuck them?

Look at the photo you took with your sister when you were sixteen. See us in your eyes? Your eyes are dark in that picture because our eyes are dark; black actually, very black. Glad to see some of yours green again, by the way. That’s says much about how far we’ve come.

How do you differentiate between what you might be creating in your head in order to deal with me and the truth, you ask? Isn’t that what you are doing now; putting me to task and checking memory facts?

You doubt me too much. I know you more than you have given me credit for. I know little details like Angie writes in all caps while Vennie tends to write in cursive. Vennie writes on behalf of Knowing. Angie – is she even around anymore? I don’t see her as often. Oh, and I can write for myself, thank you very much. ::that was a joke so get used to my dry humor and quit worrying so much about offending. again, fuck them::

No, that writing comment was not a slight to Knowing. She doesn’t mind for me to let you know that we knew each other before we became you. Ah, now there’s some news. That surprises you? It’s okay. Don’t feel betrayed. Another planet. Another place. Another space. Cycles.

What you know about me, how I was born, and what I know of humans can only unfold itself slowly. I, like Knowing, understand the importance of holding back. We care about your health and wait as you seem, Vennie, to be in the forefront right now. We’ve been switching for years. We can be a team.

In an attempt to reassure you, I don’t mean you harm. Quite the opposite. You may not like my tactics, but I am who I am. Blunt. Snobby. Standoffish. A bitch. Self-protective. Fuck it.

So if this is what we have to do; write it all out and converse like this, that works for now. There’s things to know, like I can navigate the cave keepers. Ah, well don’t I have your attention now. You’ve been curious about them for a while, since you and Sila had that conversation. You don’t talk to her anymore. She’s been off in the corner by herself quite often. First, you have much to understand so you can navigate these lands. Yet, trust me, when I tell you that you can.

You have to do this mostly alone. Be careful who you let close. Your human circle is exactly where it should be. Stand still for a bit and get to know me.

Drink some coffee for the headache. It’s been a very long day. It is going to be okay, but make no mistake. I am a bitch, a witch and a succubus. That’s all I’ll share for now. Know this. The succubus is not that bullshit they feed in mythology. You called me a Satanist, yet I worship nothing. Worship? I am far past worshipping. There may be those who enjoy worshipping me, but that’s not my road to drive. Those motherfuckers own their own eyes. Get my drift? So know me before you judge me. You study things, yes? Does that mean you adhere? Give me some credit.

I’ll most likely never go dormant. I don’t like to sleep, so somehow find a way to accept me. Don’t I deserve to be free? See? I even write poetry. ::wink::

Well fuck, there you go crying.

M.7