Spiritualjourney - Blog Posts
🌻MAGICKAL TIP🌻
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RECEPTIVE AND PROJECTIVE ENERGY
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RECEPTIVE
THE PROCESS OF RECEIVING ENERGY
Your non-dominant hand is used to receive. Hold items in this hand to draw and absorb energy from them. Use this hand to 'feel' the energy of an object.
Hold a persons projective hand with your receptive hand to receive energy from them.
You should stick all five fingers together when you are receiving energy, like so_
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PROJECTIVE
THE PROCESS OF DIRECTING ENERGY
Your dominant hand is used to project. Hold your hand out and point your finger or spread fingers out to project your energy out to the universe.
Use your projective hand to infuse energy into objects and send healing vibrations.
Open you fingers like so_
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CHEAT CODES FOR MANIFESTATION
(Write them down, say them out loud, write them in the air)
LUCID DREAM - 612 066 285
SHIFTING REALITIES - 608 841 228
MONEY (there are multiple, u can use any)
520 741 8
318 798
426 499
GOOD HEALTH - 189 1014
LOVE - 888 412 1289018
DESIRED BODY - 8240692
BEAUTY - 8358 5179
ATTRACT YOUR SPECIFIC PERSON - 986115
CLEAR UP ACNE - 5594283
FAST RESULTS - 495291151
GOOD GRADES - 21258212
HEIGHT INCREASE - 3451878
INTELLIGENCE - 493294
JOB OPPORTUNITY - 50390913
KARMA RELEASE - 66021594
LOVE (GENERAL) - 5294361
MONEY MAGNET - 199621147
NEW BEGINNINGS - 28492178
OBSTACLE REMOVAL - 298164
PSYCHIC ABILITY - 540665295
QUICK MONEY - 57938712
SAFETY (INCREASE) - 66904863
TWIN FLAME - 79843177
UNLIMITED MONEY - 73200180
WEALTH - 6760313
LET ME KNOW IF YOU NEED ANY CODES FOR PARTICULAR REASONS
Celebrating for my 1st time
Samhain (Oct 31 - Nov 1)
Also known as witches new year, marks the end of the harvest season and the beginning of winter, the nights are long and it is getting colder. The harvest is celebrated and we express our gratitude. Samhain is also a celebration to honor ancestors and contact the deceased, as the veil is thin and makes communication easier.
Correspondences for Samhain: Symbols of Samhain | pumpkins, bats, spiders, cobwebs, witches, broomsticks, skeletons. Colors | Black, orange, white, silver, purple. Spells | Gratitude, releasing, honoring, abundance, communication, protection. Crystals | Amethyst, onyx, obsidian, smokey quartz. Herbs and flowers | Cinnamon, Nutmeg, Rosemary, Sandalwood. Food | Apple pie, pears, pumpkins, nuts, grains, bread, vegetables, soups, stews, candy, ciders. Activities | Honoring ancestors, letting go, celebrating, baking, visiting cemetery, trick or treating, watching horror movies, dumb supper, séances.
https://iglovequotes.net/
Short Stories #4
. 4 The Crossroads of Destiny
The large roof and deep eaves curved into sharp, intimidating lines while the bamboo walls reflected a blue hue, a symptom of the night, as the house on the hill stood aglow before me. Motionless, crisp air burned my lungs with each inhale and smelt like the dew filled grass. The bonsai tree is unnaturally still, as if realizing the gravity of tonight. Water from the fountain gushed but it, too, seemed muted, while the full moon serenaded this tranquil visage, molding an illusion of serenity. The deafening silence is unnerving, but I'm not here to be cowed. The weight of my cold katana on my back grounds me. I'm on a mission.
After picking the lock, I entered by sliding the main door open, a pleasant woody scent filled my nose. My entrance seemed to have alerted an elderly man. He stared at me, his ridiculous, white beard curling at the end, near the collar of his indigo yukuta, trying to make out my masked face in the semi darkness. How unfortunate. For him. A quick slash from my katana and he is gone before he could make a sound. Before I could catch him, he fell with a loud thud, his throat spilling disgustingly, the copper scent of blood wafts in the air mixing with the incense. This seemed to have woken up other occupants on the ground floor. Doors slid open and men stepped out. I watch as horror fills their eyes, then understanding, then rage. One man grabs his tachi and lunges at me. Ah, wrong move. I dodge, hold my foot out and he trips and with a swift swing from me, his body jerks and he's out like a candle. I pick up his tachi with my other hand as more men trickle in to attack me. Dodge, parry, dodge again, leap, I use the wall as a support to leap again, using my knee I plow another in his groin, and swing, he goes down thrashing wildly. I swivel and clash my swords with yet another man, who jerks back from my abrupt motions. Using his momentary distraction, I surge forth, and elbow him in the face, then under the jaw, and finally a shattering blow to ribs. Blood splutters from his mouth and he wails, and I drive my trusted katana through his heart. An agonized shriek pierced through my haze but only barely. A raging duel has broken out. Now I was fighting four men at once, all of them shouting expletives at me. The children cowered while two women threw household items at me. The men are able-bodied, athletic and burly but my smaller, quicker frame gave me an advantage of speed and efficiency. I dodge the plate thrown at me and it hits one man behind me, in the face. I swivel and cut his head cleanly off his shoulders with the tachi. A man screamed in rage and ran towards me. I moved out his way and he slams against the wall, while another man lunges toward me holding his tanto straight. I knew then it would pierce my heart. I rolled under him and kicked him from the back and his tanto went through the back of the man who was still against the wall. Horror welled in his eyes and I deftly swung my katana at his jugular. As the saying goes, 'Hit two birds with one stone'. When the aggressive onslaught of attacks ended up hurting their own people or themselves, did the men realize what a formidable fighter I am. They are good, I admit, and they meet my expectations for a warrior family, but I, I'm a master and have been for decades. I take them all down one by one, effortlessly, my motions mechanical. Oh, these men were really good. I'm slightly out of breath, blood dribbles down my forehead and there's an ache in my muscles. Not an issue. I move towards the remaining women and the children. The fear in their eyes and their wrenching sobs almost make me pause. Almost. Alas, it must be done. I raise both swords and swing. Blood splatters on the bamboo walls, on the tatami mat flooring and on the Shōji attached to the wooden railing. The smell is unbearable down here, sweat, blood, other bodily fluids and incense combined together create an unholy stench which should be called an assault in and of itself. Wrinkling my nose, I drop the tachi and move forward.
I scour the house for any survivors. None remain. Good. I make my way upstairs and eliminate all those hiding. Barely feeling my heart beating, I slide the door to the last room. The mother screams and shields the child with her body. One cut and she too spills crimson at my feet. And oh. How I waited and plotted and planned for this moment. The bane of my existence, stares at me with large eyes, darker than the sky. So this is the infamous "child of the prophecy". This weakling. The child stares, I sneer back. To think this silly creature could do me harm, is frankly laughable. I raise my katana to swing, I pause and my arm drops. I lift my arm again and the sudden realization of what I'm about to do, what I just did, crashed down on me. I am hesitating. Why? I already killed the family without remorse, why is this so difficult?! The child stares and stares and I want to end him so badly, yet….
A sudden wisp of black and white smoke gathers around my feet. The child falls unconscious in his crib instantly. Yelping, I take a few steps back and hold my katana in a defensive position. Two unearthly beings, the white one a few steps ahead to my right and the black one a few steps ahead to my left. Terror strikes my heart like lightning. Was this what the prophecy meant? Is this my end? As the smoke cleared, I gasped, my sword falling with a clatter. Me?! These creatures wore my face, but no…. I can see a difference. The one on my left, was pale as the moon outside, and held a perpetual, cocky smirk, while the eyes had a glint sharper than my katana. Clothed in a kimono as pale as its skin, this creature seemed to glow, but it had a curious black spot on its forehead, in between the two milky eyes. It's companion, however, was the opposite. Glistening, pure black skin, and an ebony kimono, made the white spot on its forehead more pronounced. It's expression was stern, and shrewd but its shadowy eyes were watchful and old. It seemed to have sucked all the shadows around it. In essence they had my features but in different shades. As formidable as their presence felt, they created a rather bewitching sight. The being in white looks charming and enticing, a delicate elegance to its movements, while the being in black looks so divine and mesmerizing, its stature refined and striking.
"Hello Human", the white one grinned, it's voice-my voice but airy and seductive,"I am your Yang and this is my companion", Yang gestured to the other,"Yin". Yin, however did not speak, just kept me under its watchful gaze.
"Are you my punishment?" I murmured.
"No.",Yin finally spoke, it's voice clear and firm, "We are your conscious, and I am here to convince you to make the right choice."
"Oh please my darling Yin, and human," Yang adds as an afterthought, "there is only a choice and what you do with it. Right and wrong are subjective."
Yin scoffs and rolls its eyes. Yang tiptoes over to me, each slight step made it look like it was floating rather than touching the ground. It picks up my sword, slings its arm over my shoulder and pushes my katana in my blood coated hands.
"Go ahead, do it. Kill the child, you know he's a liability to the empire you spent ages building." Yang whispered in my ear.
"If you have an ounce of humanity left in you will put down that sword!"roared Yin. "You have slaughtered his family! Now he will definitely come for you because YOU put that prophecy in motion!"
"Now, now Yin, let's not lose our tempers," Yang soothes,"the prophecy was put in motion against our human's judgement. No point crying over spilt milk is there? What we need now is for our human to kill-"
" -There will be no killing." Yin interrupts, snarling.
"We'll see." Yang bites back and turns to me, one arm still over my shoulder, the other forcing my katana in my hand.
"I-well-I can't let this child live!" I sputter out. "I've spent over a century building it from the ashes that my father", I spit, "caused. I cannot let my work go to waste!"
"That's more like it!" Yang exclaims, a sharp grin dancing across its mouth.
"Not let your work go to waste!?" Yin bellows. "Surely you do realize, if you proceed you will become the same person your father was! Have you forgotten what he has done!?"
I flinch back from Yin's words and my old scar, racing down from my jugular till my heart, tingles.
"You set that prophecy in motion, now you deal with the consequences that come with it." Yin clenches its teeth and forces out, self righteous anger held with scarce restraint.
"Well, so what? Morality is dubious at best." trills Yang, while deftly skirting around the cold body of the mother." Yes the prophecy is in motion and what of it? Just end the boy. There will be no issue of him, ah, 'hunting you down for sweet revenge'. Murder makes everything easier." A sly grin appears on its face. "As you proved downstairs."
"Enough of this. The least you can do is compensate the boy for the loss you caused. If you murder that child, will you able to live with yourself?" Yin inquires, soulful eyes knowing.
Yang comes to an abrupt halt, its face twisted, as it looks towards Yin, who hadn't moved an inch from its position.
"Must you always complicate situations?" it sneers, then turns towards me, suddenly cold and demanding, "Human, kill that child."
"No! Spare the child!"
"I said kill the child!"
"And I said spare the child!"
"Kill the child!"
"Spare the child!"
"Kill the child!"
"Spare the child!"
"ENOUGH!" I erupt, and fall to my knees. Tears of frustration and uncertainty well in my eyes. Both beings, taken aback, turn to look at me. I hold my head in my hands, and soon enough, sobs wreak my body, my shoulders shaking.
Yin's lip curls as it stares down at me.
"So this is what the 'Great Leader' does whenever faced with a difficult situation." it sneers. "Cry."
"I do not wish to be like my father", I sob, my voice hoarse, "I wished for peace and security for me and my people, and then this-this prophecy came along and ruined it for me. This child-you don't understand-this child is destined to be my fall! All that I worked so hard on, I can not let it turn to dust. I just-" my voice breaks off, gut wrenching sobs ascend to heaves.
The beings watch me carefully, quietly, none moving till I calmed down.
"Human." Yin spoke, its voice firm and somber, thrummed in me like residual vibrations from a gigantic church bell. I lift my head. Yin and Yang stared back at me without blinking. An unnerving silence hung in the air.
"You are at the crossroads of destiny." Yang crooned, at last. My blood smeared katana laid in front of me, a trickle of moonlight gleaming on the visible metallic parts. Yin and Yang, then speak to me, in a voice of one,
"What will you choose?"
________________End_______________
In life we often come across crossroads, hopefully none as severe as this, in which we have to choose between desire and morality.
Yin is harsh and unyielding but the white spot on its forehead shows the good in difficulty, the emotional and mental strength it takes to do what is right. It shows the beauty of struggle and the iron fist you must wield to abide by morality.
Yang, on the other hand, is seductive, fluid and ever changing. It shifts from place to place, with a ruthless callousness and it is, often, rather flimsy. It shows the temptation of selfishness, of the desire to take and never give.
The most difficult battles, in truth, are varying shades of gray, rather than just black and white.
The ending is left open for the readers to interpret as they wish and to ask themselves the big question,
"What will YOU choose?"
Short stories #3
. 3 Above and Beyond
Trudging through the woods, I try to place the majority of my weight on my makeshift cane. Squinting my eyes, I try to keep sight of my path. The moon is of barely any help. If I had known it would be dark I would've snuck out a torch. Pulling my coat tighter around myself and wishing, not for the first time, that I should've worn something warmer above my hospital gown. I buried my nose in my scarf and yet, the crisp air still burned down my lungs. If my cigarettes don't kill me first, the cold certainly will. 'You shouldn't be here', the guilty part of my brain whispered. I squashed that thought down just like the leaves under my feet. Silly Linda, I scoff. She thought she could keep me in the ward by locking the door. Well look now, I jumped out the window. Well the pangs in my leg are almost making me regret. Almost. Oh whatever. To hell with Linda and her false pretenses. She can act sweet and coy all she likes but I know she wants me dead. Not more than I do but it is a mutual sentiment that is reciprocated. She's far too young anyway. A bit naive and very gullible. Very overconfident too but she is under the assumption that she's being 'smart' and 'sharp' and that an old, miserable midget like me won't be able to see right through her. An absolute fool. I despise it here.
I hobble my way to my usual spot, a clearing somewhere in the middle of the woods. The crescent moon stares down at me, as if judging. Sitting down on a tree stump while catching my breath, I pull out a pack of cigarettes that Linda missed and a lighter from my coat pocket. A cold draft rushed and rustled the trees and I held my coat tighter, shivering badly. With numb hands I light a cigarette and hold the lighter close, the tiny flame giving me a semblance of warmth. Sigh. I wouldn't want the fluid to run out. I pocketed it, closed my eyes and enjoyed my cigarette. Deep inhale and then exhale. Inhale and exhale. Finally, some peace and quiet….
…. Which did not last longer than twenty minutes. A sharp, whip like crack sobered me up and I opened my eyes to a terrifying sight. A creature with four faces, more than a hundred wings, taller than the trees, so huge that I can't distinguish the sky from its body. The moon is nowhere in sight. His whole body consists of uncountable eyes and tongues. What on God's green earth is this!? I can't move. Why am I not moving? Its hellish eyes stared me down. The cigarette I was holding had long fallen. I am a stone, glued to one place. I can't tear my eyes off this- this creature. All too soon, it descends and shifts into a shape more recognizable. A man. Dressed in a pure white robe, inky hair curled in every direction, skin the color of rich soil and piercing charcoal eyes, this man would stand out among any crowd. I must be hallucinating. Are cigarettes supposed to make you hallucinate?
"What kind of alien are you?" I asked in a quivering voice.
The man blinked. Then blinked again. Then stared at me long enough to make me wish I hadn't spoken.
"What kind do you think I am?" he smoothly replies, evading my question.
"A shape-shifting one."
He folds his hands neatly behind his back and doesn't reply.
"And who would you introduce yourself as?" he asks. I have a distinct feeling that he's humouring me. Like a cat who caught a canary.
"I, well, I-uhm-I fancy myself a student." I stuttered out. He doesn't need to know where I am from.
"A student of?"
"Life."
The alien smirked. An uncomfortable silence surrounds us, uncomfortable for me atleast. I feel weaker. Sweat beads at my eyebrows. This alien's presence has a weight that is taking a toll on me.
With nothing to do, I whip out another cigarette. I finished smoking it. Then I pull out a second, then a third, then a fourth.
"How long have you been smoking?" the alien asks suddenly.
"A few decades." I say, lighting another cigarette. A hush falls again.
"How do you speak our language?" I inquired, anything to keep the oppressive silence at bay.
"I've been here before."
"Oh?" I ask, hoping for an elaboration.
"Yes."
None came.
"What is it like?"
He raised an eyebrow.
"Your planet. What is it like?"
"It is a human's dream come true. You can have whatever your heart desires. Food, clothing, land, companions. It is eternal peace-"
"Sounds like heaven." I interrupted.
The alien's lips quirked.
"Something of that sort. It can be very beautiful or very terrible depending on the person."
"Why so?"
"Would you wish for good things to happen to evil people?"
"No. Not at all."
"My point exactly."
"What is evil anyway? Is evil caused by a difficult life?You know, I've always wondered."
The alien calmly looks back at me.
"Have you had a sorrowful life?" he asks, a curious gleam in his eyes.
"Sorrowful?" I scoff. "I can barely recognize myself in the mirror anymore. A saying goes 'Let a man walk the halls of sorrow. Whatever comes out, can it be called a man anymore?' " I asked.
"Sorrow is either growth or wasted potential if you have not learned. Power on the other hand, man cannot be trusted with power. It is too corrupting." the alien argues.
"I'll have to politely disagree. Power in itself is not corrupt. Power attracts those who are corruptible. Those who took the wrong lessons from their sorrows."
"And what about you?"
"What about me?"
"You have become a cynic only because you felt your life was difficult. Your cigarette is proof enough. It kills you, yet, you stick to it. Doesn't that make you just like them?"
"You are not a human. You don't, and maybe, will never, understand the delicate intricacy of addiction. I am not defending myself. I am ashamed but leaving it is no easy task."
The alien hummed," If you believe so. You are quite a melancholic person." he says, matter of fact.
"So I've been told." I smiled self deprecatingly, "Look at me, debating about ideologies with an alien."
The alien smirked, as if he was in on a joke I wasn't. Strange.
I cleared my throat. It felt itchy. Must've been the cigarettes.
"Anyway,how does your planet deal with 'evil' people."
"You need not worry your head over it. Our, ah, justice system is very fair."
"Oh. Where is it located? Your planet that is."
"Not here. It is somewhere above all the galaxies."
That most certainly piqued my interest. I have wished for death on my worst days but on my best days, I've always been a curious bug, too curious for my own good. I swallowed the lump in my throat.
"Why are you here?" I finally cave in to my curiosity.
The alien side eyes me and replies, "I'm here to take one person home with me. Forever."
A thrill raced up my spine and anticipation settled in my bones. I licked my frozen, chapped lips. Perhaps I am being selfish. I spent my entire life looking for an escape, an escape from everything, my depression, my poverty, my disease, that hospital and its disinfectant smelling wards, Linda, this wretched world. That is an artist's curse. Escapism, they say, is an art too and I am anything but unacquainted to art. I always wondered about what was beyond, a place where no man had stepped. The golden threads of time, weaved into the fine fabric of the universe, permitted this opportunity to occur in front of me. I will take it even if my hands bleed.
I have no family that left, nobody who loves me. I'm bitter and alone. I deserve to be selfish for once in my life. To take a big leap, a risk. Yes, I will.
"Take me with you." I begged. "Please."
"Why should I?" the alien replied, staring right in my soul.
"You came for me. I know. If you didn't you wouldn't have landed here." I say, hopefully.
"And if I say that is false? What else would you offer?“
"I can offer you beauty and art. I can create for you."
"We have many of those."
"There will ever only be one like me. Just like there is only one artist like them. Themselves only."
Silence enveloped us again while rejection stung my chest again.
"Allow me to prove myself." I plead.
The alien looked at me, questioning.
"Look in my mind, see all that there is." I say determinedly. And I let him in my mind, let him see the world through my eyes and feel what I felt. I let him see my arts, my music, my poetry, my paintings that I crafted lovingly with my aged hands. I let him see what a human sees, something I know that he had never witnessed. Then I revealed my sorrows. Hopefully humanity would appeal to it.
With a pull he left my head. My eyes burned and I felt a blood vessel burst. I dry heaved on the dead ground but the nausea still lingered. I am glad I was seated or my knees would've buckled and I would've been an undignified heap on the floor. All the while the alien just stared and stared. I am getting sick of his staring too.
Once again, I broke the silence.
"I will paint your skies," I continue, hesitantly, "and your buildings and walls. I will write for the children and even for the old. Just please, take me. I'm exhausted ."
My eyes burned again, unshed tears waiting for release. I avert my eyes and let out a sigh. I feel heavy and my shoulders slump. Unexplainable exhaustion overcomes me and my temperature keeps rising, beads of sweat rolling down my face.
"If," he began,then stopped. It was the first time in our entire conversation that I saw him hesitate.
"If," he continued, "if I were to ask you to scream your wish at me, what would you fear more; your echo or my answer? “
"My echo", I reply instantaneously.
"Why?"
"Because it would mean you have declined."
"Hmm. Recite a poem for me."
I gave a shaky, hopeful smiled and offered him my words:
My river by the oak tree
has turned molten gold again,
as the glowing orb of light and life surrenders to the sapphire sky.
The cotton clouds float in shy, pink circles
While the rush of the river awakens a memory I had long forgotten,
When this same tree once bore luscious flowers,
Their scent wafting lazily into the cool breeze,
While I sat and reminisced about the possibility of other lives in the universe,
Under the wrinkled, silver moon.
Silence hugged us again while the impact of my weakened voice lingered in the air.
"Do you believe in other lives? Aliens and such?" he questioned.
"Yes I do, I mean you are here so that confirms it too."
"You are a funny one. No one has ever mistaken me for an alien." it grinned, crooked, as if a gesture it wasn't familiar with.
My body went cold and tremors shook it to its feeble core, my breath coming out in shallow pants. My eyes shut down of their own accord. The entity then spoke with a voice that might have held the weight of a thousand suns,
"Beyond the stars we go."
Forests are like churches, hallowed places. There's a stillness about them, a sort of reverence.