Elden Ways, Stream of Thought

The Queen’s Gambit

The Eliterish had ridiculed her faith in humanity and disparaged her learned assertions to where the only way that she could prove clemency needed on Man’s behalf was to cast off her powers and become one of his children.

But in becoming human, her Elden memories became suppressed, and what accompanied her in youth’s vulnerability were nightmares of humanity’s attrocious deeds imbedded in the genetic code of her now transformed DNA, whispering and weeping to her subconscious at night when she fitfully tried to sleep.

And Man’s twisted, tormented half-lifers were drawn to her – darkness exposed that attacked her innocence and tried to pass on its infection, so that as she grew, she suffered from confusion’s misdirection while struggling to regain access to Truth’s enduring instinct.

Sage human Ascensionists saw her light and attempted to conscript by pursuasions, but she veered away from their illuminations seeking to harness and repurpose her intentions.

She knew she was not one of them, for though she could speak their language fluently, they could not return in kind.

She was here for a specific mission and could not risk misguided temptations.

Stream of Thought

See How They Run

A new phenomenon has been occurring.

After I have looked at a younger man while asking for help in a business or navigating through my classes, they soon seek out their partner, as if to show me that they are taken.

Cause and effect could be coincidence, yet they seem directed toward my acknowledgment.

Which seems to me hilarious because youth in my book is becoming overrated!

Perhaps it is my no b.s. attitude which makes them feel a bit prey to predator.

Or maybe this is the season where new couples connect more in public.

Stream of Thought

Physicality

I am beginning to wonder how much my physical injuries have always affected the confidence of my nature, causing me to be cautious.

Since I was born, I have been injured.

Pulled out backwards too hard and then not too long after, sent head-first into brake pedals.

These two incidents alone would set a mark on a child’s development.

Then, later ensuing invasions of mind, body, heart, and spirit before the age of ten…

No wonder it has felt like I have been in a war-torn nightmare version of life’s mimicry.

No wonder I have reached out to help others with potential who have been on the brink of falling, because I understand the pressures that work upon a person’s soul.

And it is difficult for me to have to curb this instinct for advocating.

Coiled into myself while sitting with legs propped for a moment before I extend limbs and will to shampoo three vehicles against limitations and warnimg twinges of my latest injuries, I cynically laugh at the dream I woke from this morning.

I had been coordinating with other healers to have a center with therapy rooms attached so that when I could resume, I would no longer feel so alone in providing.

The people I had asked had agreed about the desire to feel connected, yet as the dream faded, I realized that the way things are going, my return to that line of work is not possible within this next year’s planning.