I have to balance it out.
I`ve written that before. I`ve been in this situation before.
I`ve been in this same space before.....
This time I get it!
Or do I?
I am the Narrator.
My body.. the Character.
Trash and cat shit....
Is this what it`s all come down to?
Trash and Cat Shit.
Was there a better place to be?
She threw her head back and laughed easily.
She highly doubted it.
Shrugging her shoulders, she began to write.
She floated easily into the warmth of the Darkness, feeling the familiar deep pull from within her heart.
Her Heart Charkra opening. The fragrant incense pulling her deeper.
Beyond the worlds.
She could feel the Shadows passing by her. Through her.
Past the Goddess with the Lioness face, her energy generating a soft beauty.
Floating onward, inward, into the Womb of Her.
The Lady with the veil.
Grace had been granted.
She felt the stirrings of her own womb as she began to bleed,
being cleansed by the hand of the Great Mother.
Her Heart Chakra blossoming.
She was indeed a Child of the Great Goddess, bathing in Her womb.
Images and feelings of her childhood began to manifest, images of teen idols.
Women. Strong women, rebellious women, assertive women.
She had wanted to be them. To be confrontingly different.
She had wanted to be Feared.
Accepted and Loved.
Respected and Admired.
She had wanted to be God.
Her mind drifted to another time, she could feel the gentle pull of Hecates hand,
drawing her deeper, guiding her, showing her.
Watching herself sitting in the kitchen of her twin sister, Lia Horisis - her past life twin,
something they were both yet to discover in this life.
That first meeting. The reunion of souls, once lost to each other, now rejoined.
The absolution of immortality.
Little did they know, from that moment onward, their lives would never be the same again.
For better or for worse.
Fate had stepped in and Destiny had begun.
And thus the Third Sister had been born.
Drifting deeper, her mind took her to another time again,
a time of weakness and self doubt, a time of loneliness and hate.
Not recognising the person she had been, the life she had lived, the hate she had known.
Wondering how she had ever allowed herself to embrace and empower this kind of darkness,
the darkness that could destroy ones Soul.
The Darkness that she now knew so well.
She wondered at the point of which Reality met with Fantasy.
Fantasy with Insanity.
Insanity with Reality.
Mortality with Immortality.
Was there a difference?
Indeed, she was soon to discover that very point.
That very point of difference.
That very point of her existence.
She slowly brought her mind back to the now, gently easing back into her mortal body.
The body of Trac.
A Proud Goddess Loving Witch.
A Devoted Mother, a Loving Wife, and a Loyal Friend.
An Absent Sister and a Disapointing Daughter.
A Confrontingly Strong, Opinionated Woman,
Admired and Respected amongst her Peers.
A Scared Child, with a Fear of Rejection,
yet by choice a Social Disaster.
A Rebel without a Cause.
A Leader too afraid to Lead.
She was indeed a walking Contradiction.
Her eyes starting to focus now , the darkness appearing hauntingly beautiful, soft candlelight lending itself, in honour no doubt of the beauty in which it had just partaken, glowing gently around the bath in which she lay. A soft gold Aura lighting the room.
The aroma of Dragons Blood in the air.
Could it get any better than this she wondered, as she stretched and reached for the plug, preparing to allow all of her fears and negitivity to drain with the bath water, to be then reused in the gardening system, to sustain the abundance and beauty of the tree life and gardens she had been Blessed to live amongst.
Even her negativity could be channelled into positivity these days, she mused, she could sustain life.
She inhaled and exhaled deeply, feeling the pull of the negativity leaving her body.
The deep pull of resistance.
As she towelled herself dry she was drawn to her reflection in the mirror, she looked in wonder as a proud woman looked back at her.
Smiling to herself, she knew, she always had.
And now she had become.
Her own Perfect Image.
She had always wondered about "their" Perfect image.
They couldn`t see their entire lives were based on lies.
Life was a lie..
A "perfect image" had been created, no doubt by someone with very little self esteem, but a very loud trumpet.
A perfect image, residing in a place of impossible achievement, dwelling in the depths of plain stupidity.
This Perfect image, whom "they" call God.
THE Perfect image.
Ironically created by man.
She wondered why she had ever considered conformation to this image, forever grateful to the Divine for Her intervention.
Forever empowered by this knowledge alone.
She had once wanted to be God.
She now knew she was infact a Goddess.