My Guardian

My Guardian, "Absence"     (c) Copyright 2013 - written by David Wicker Please do not reprint without permission Want to read this in a different language ? Change the TO field to your own country and click the TRANSLATE button after going HERE "Stay with me a little while longer ..." My Guardian was there when I was in torment from bullies at school and alone at night. It is she who was there and comforted me when my own Dad's life ended terribly. And perhaps - because I am human, I am endowed with the virtues of sorrow, shame, anger, frustration, and remorse. And perhaps some of that is reflected in my writing both here and to follow in the future. And yes, they are virtues, for if you are not human enough to feel these emotions, then what are you ? This is the recollection of the times I had with my Guardian. She is someone that cared and tended to my sorrows. KEY: Andrew is my middle name and I was called this by others until I entered High School. Loneliness. It's a terrible thing and it eats you alive, especially at night. Wikipedia defines it as: Loneliness is a feeling in which people experience a strong sense of emptiness and solitude. Loneliness is often compared to feeling empty, unwanted, and unimportant. Someone who is lonely may find it hard to form strong interpersonal relationships. It also goes on to define that this is not the same as solitude. Well, I think if you are forced into loneliness for an extended period, your brain tries to find a solution, and after a-while starts to think you are in prolonged solitude, and to complete the mania, that you are doing it by choice. Maybe that was my solution for a-while, but it didn't last. I remember being about 10-years old and eventually cried at night, blocking out most of the bad things that happened at school, the bullying and what they tried to drill in my head, and as I lay back in my bed at night, held my hands up to the air and said quite simply to God, if He were listening. "Take me. You've made a mistake, I don't belong here. Take my life now and let me be rid of this terrible pain." I remember seeing old B&W films about people suffocating so, stupidly, I tried to hold my breath to kill myself, and of course, you really can't do that. But I tried over and over again, making it longer each time until there was a kind of shimmering in my brain that fought for oxygen. I tried one more night and when I felt the shimmering in my brain to the point I had a splitting headache again, I heard a distinct voice woman's voice. "I am here." I stopped to breathe normally, my chest gasping for breath and listened. Finally I spoke out loud because it certainly sounded like someone spoke audibly to me. "Who's there ?" I asked. Naturally, it was silent. It was midnight according to the clock Dad let me borrow that had the radium handles to make it glow and look cool at night. I paused to try for another deeper and longer breath to punish myself, but before I could start again, I heard the voice again. "I am here ..." I laughed, certain my sleep was now permanently interrupted, "That's great, but who's there ?" I didn't have to wait this time because the answer was immediate. Definitely a woman's voice, considerably older than mine, 30-40 I think. "I am here, little one. My name is Absence. I will see you tonight." Now, I've had recurring dreams over and over again of the LAMP that put me to bed at night, it floated down the hallway and burned hissing with gas, I guess it was from the 18th century or so, although the real one Dad had a light-bulb, in any case, it felt like that. Comforting, yet eerie. And yet I also had nightmares of Dad's terrible washing machine come clunking down the hall to spark and hiss and burn me with it's electricity and sear my skin and bad stuff like that. The voice didn't sound bad, actually it hadda kind of interesting accent to it I couldn't quite place. I doubted I would meet her awake, so I needed to get to sleep. Well, I finally slept. Or so I thought. I was in a different house somewhere else, and it seemed I was with a different family, though I didn't know who. There was a beautiful mirror in front of me, taller than myself on the wall. Ornate with gold trim. Detailed into it were little faeries and pixies that seemed to move and dance as I looked on, it was indeed beautiful ! I sat by it and looked at my reflection. It was perfect, with no scratches or smudges in it either. I looked at myself in it, and finally sat on my legs the special way I liked to. I remember being teased in school for sitting on my legs in the classroom chair, I did that for years, never putting them down on the floor as you're supposed to. One kid rudely commented that I did that so I wouldn't leave my lipstick marks on the seat which I never did understand. And it was a comfortable position for me to sit, Japanese style I think, so I sat there and closed my eyes. The scene in the mirror changed. My reflection, while keeping myself showed a different background, one of a snowy environment. My clothing was the same. I was dressed in a kind of white robe but I didn't know what. And then I remember the 4 haunting notes of the very first song I wrote on piano. Much of what I learned in my Guardian's Realm I applied to today. It is to her to this very day I have to thank for my skills in art, philosophy, science, music, theology, and programming, and probably even typing too as I only use 4-fingers today which is why I'm so darned accurate. Anyways, She taught me a great deal, but I'm getting ahead of myself. I heard the 4 notes play over and over again, like the most perfect of perfect crystal bells. The reflection of me on the other side of the mirror got up and brushed the snow off as it was snowing there, and I looked at a large shard of glass floating in front of me, bigger than the mirror on the other side, to see my reflection, or the other me, still sitting on my legs and I guess I was asleep. I got up and realized my feet were terribly cold as I was barefoot and it seemed I was stepping on ice though I didn't slip. I walked to come across a frozen pond, and there, I saw her for the first time. She was tall, considerably, at least 6'2 compared to my diminutive less than 4 foot something. That's one of the reasons I was teased in school cause I was such a runt. Anyways, she was dressed in a lithe blue transparent gown on the other side of the pond and breathed warm air in her hands. As she did so, a glow occurred between her hands and chinese-lanterns were formed from the frost around her. She set them in the pond and despite the water being frozen, they glided their way towards me. And I was moved, literally, by this humble act of beguiling passion she was showing to me. After 3 lamps I went to walk over the pond, which apparently supported my weight, walking around the lanterns that continued to glide on the ice past my feet unhindered by my movements. Then I was standing in front of her. I took a good look. She was actually very plain looking in facial features, with a type of light greyish blue hair and eyes so deep you could fall forever in them, the deepest blue of blue of bluery blues and she was strong and muscular, like she could press steel. And she looked like she was sad, always, even when she was happy, which she obviously was right now. I held out my hand and she took it, but pulled me towards her, hugging me hard, draping her arms around my back and nestled her fingers around my back rubbing comfortably there. I cried. I was so - lonely - I knew - I had to be hallucinating BIG because there was no way in holy hell a woman this pretty would ever care a bit about me. It was all in my head, I had to convince myself of that, but I never did, not till even today. I was crying real tears as I realized this had to be a dream and she never existed. She wiped the tears of one of my eyes with her finger, which froze on her fingertips into a type of crystal she placed in her pocket. Then she spoke again, and it was like a cold and beautiful numbing wind, the kind that would kill you outright, and she sang her melody to me, "I am here - for you." She continued to speak and it felt like my face changed temperatures, and was in a furnace as her breath hit my face, "If no-one else will have you, Andrew, I will. I promise you that. Come with me now." as Andrew is my real name, though I only acknowledge it only today from family. And then we were off. I held on to her hand but my feet never touched the ground nor did I feel any weight in them. She walked gracefully towards what looked like a large ice cavern ahead and then I realized it was a dazzlingly beautiful castle, made of ice or crystal, and it shined in the dim and blue-within-blue sunlight. It was so - so beautiful ! There were no guards, no-one else here at all. For a moment I wondered if it really was her residence. And then we entered within and everything was made out of frost and ice. Even the piano I saw which was in the main hallway. She went to it and sat me up in the chair in it. Then she reached around my shoulders and felt it very important to show me 4 critical notes of the piano. The same 4 I had heard when I entered the mirror earlier. She then spoke in a serious and adult tone, "Play this if you ever need to find me again, little one." I memorized the song and can play it well today though I haven't played a piano in several years now and I can't remember all the songs she taught me except that one really really well. Once she was certain I had committed it to memory, we went over to a long table that had 3 chalices in it in a triangle on a marble pedestal. For some reason I knew at once that one had honey in it, the other blood, human, and the other pure white snow. I was to choose one of them that would forever dictate my existence now and in the hereafter. I picked up the chalice with the snow crystals in it and she stopped me. "Andrew, why would you choose that ? The honey represents harmony and the blood represents authority. If you chose the honey you might find harmony with both the good and bad memories you have. With the blood you would have the strength and authority to stand up to your difficulties. Why would you choose the snow which merely makes you - forget ?" I told her I picked the snow because I want to FORGET. I want to forget all the bad things that had been happening at school, with my Dad, with my sister, with my real Mother, so I wouldn't be constantly trying to kill myself every day from the misery of my parents always fighting, from the humiliation I got from bullies at school, and the loneliness that ate at my core. The snow would freeze my brain, my thoughts, a cold absence of memory, a euphoria, an infinite naivety. That is what I wanted. To FORGET EVERYTHING. The absolution and absolute absence. She then smiled almost as if she knew I would choose that particular chalice and I realized quite suddenly, that the effect of the chalice was the same as her own name. Absence. Was I given a choice of chalices after all ? She then smiled indulgently and stepping back held out her arms out graciously and said, "Please then, drink all you want." And so I approached the pedestal and lifted the snow chalice to drink, and it was a cold silver cup of course. And I placed it to my lips and it burned, but it was a cold burning. For a moment I didn't want to but I had commited myself to do so. And then I drank, the chalice alone froze my mouth, it burned it was so cold. I cried out at the pain but kept tilting the cup until the snow poured in it. It made made my mouth go numb at once it was so cold, and the cup never seemed to empty. It was like a kind of gooey ice that chilled my throat and it felt like icicles were pushing their way into my brain, puncturing it painfully but with each swallow I took of the snow, I started to feel better. I imagined seeing a cold wind blow over a large vast snowy wasteland. With not one stick of vegetation, not one person seen for thousands - no MILLIONS of miles. I was absence of thought. The forgetfulness was intoxicating, so I closed my eyes for a deeper drink hearing a hissing in my ears as I knew it would destroy all my bad memories, but would it be fatal ? Before I could drink more, she had walked up suddenly and was there to stop me and returned the chalice back to the pedestal where it clattered noisily against the crystal table. I looked at her confused and she spoke almost angry, "Andrew ! I would think you would like to maintain your mortality for a time longer ! For you are still quite young yet. It is not yet time for you to enter the abyss and make that singular and terrible decision which faces all men at the end of their mortal coils. Let your life-course run true before you tread down that dreaded corridor." I looked at her with a confused look as I didn't entirely understand what she was saying. She laughed. "Stay with me a while longer, little one." she inquired gently and touched my cheek with her hand where it burned with warmth and love. I rose to my feet trying to clear my head from the intoxicating snow draught and nodded to her. Then she pointed her hand in the air and said, "Now that you have chosen your destiny, which is that you wish to forget entirely your human life, it is time you learn of your legacy." And with that she led me to one room that had a large, at least 25-foot tall sphere. It looked like it was made out of stained-glass material, and was beautifully constructed with intricate designs all over it. It was predominately orange I remember. An ancient stained-glass - time-ship I remember calling it. I thought it was odd that it was orange, so I asked, why not blue ? She answered with a smile. "True, Blue is magic, but so much more. Orange will suffice." She touched the side of it, and it opened up. She held my hand and we stepped inside. I remember there was no sound of an engine but there was a curious feeling of power, like a kind of audio suspense in it nonetheless. She pointed to a plate of glass fixed on one side and spoke though her voice seemed to echo with a new strength of its own. "There are 5 dimensional realms of which you know not. The Vulture, The Jackal, The Monkey, The Wolf, and the Dove. We are going to visit all of them, and then you will know where you are in the realm of things." Then she touched the glass and lifted her hand above it making a symbol with her hand. She touched her index finger to her thumb and struck down like her finger held a needle and she was penetrating a fabric with it. Then the ship took off. Passing down deeper than through the Earth, a kind of inverted down, like the negative beyond the decimal point and deeper still. There was darkness, and she sought a deeper darkness, then darker still. Until the darkness had a weight, like a cancer, poisonous to touch, and burned hotter than the brightest fire, but was black as pitch. We had arrived. I looked around but couldn't see anything. I heard and somehow knew that murder was taking place. Occasionally a jingle of what sounded like coins, then someone else crying out in the darkness from being murdered. "This the Vulture." she said. "The region of greed. For you are truly a VULTURE if you kill, to take away someone's life, merely for their mortal gain. A despicable region to be indeed." We stayed for a moment longer, then she touched the glass plate again and made a different symbol with her hand. Outstretched and glided her palm down down raising her fingers like they were floating up somehow. We entered the new region. It was hot and sticky, but not deathly so like the darker region. I tugged on my robe and licked my lips at the sweat forming around them. Then we looked. There were large red and green sickly colored pits, but the size of saunas. Men and women were naked and having intercourse with each other in them. But there was something out of place. Once the participants had concluded climaxing each other, they reached down to exchange their private parts with each other and screwed each other anew with their new apparatus. Some had both appendages and screwed both men and women combined. They all slurped and licked each other all over. As I was young during this vision, I didn't understand and shrugged to let her know. My Guardian explained, "This is the Jackal. They live solely for their physical sexual pleasure and gratification. For if you strive only to have intercourse with others strictly for your benefit without consideration of your partner, or the consequences that could follow, then you are a JACKAL. A difficult vice for all forms of life to break." I looked on and realized in time, I would want some of this, all of this. Men or what looked like men were suckling on women's tiddles and weren't entirely young themselves. They had their winkies up in the women's loveboxes and passionately screwed them there. I finally looked away, a little more than embarrassed. As for my Guardian, Absence. She seemed to watch on with some interest, and then realized that we were spending too long here. She put her hand on my shoulder and the other one over the glass plate and made a simpler symbol. One I remembered. A closed palm, a rock, with no movement. There might be something to learn from that. We had arrived. Now at this point my vision took on terrible scenes indeed, so terrible and so horrible that I will not write of or speak of them in here. Suffice it to say it clearly showed in the most nightmarish of scenes, the most perverted of the trusted, and the most wicked of the saintly. It was men and women in all of their terrible and primal facets and appetites, vices, and paths of madness. I cried out, shocked at the terrible acts I was seeing ! I was completely beyond myself with rage and grief for what appeared to be good people, the despicable crimes they just committed, quite possibly the most despicable I had ever seen in my life ! And no-one would ever be able to catch them for what they did either because they were so crafty and clever to hide them ! Secrets I knew they would carry to their graves. I banged on the side of the ancient stained-glass time-ship in my great fury. "Weep not for the victims." my Guardian said interrupting my moments of anguish. "For this is YOUR world. It is from this world I have sought you. The greatest hypocrisy of all is the combined passion, hatred, and jealousy of mankind. You will never find a more mixed bag of altruisms, contradictions, and deceitfulness." I looked at her again confused, because she used such big words and I wasn't mature enough to understand. She smiled and said in a child-like tone, "It's not good the silly games you children play with each other, little one." Play !? Is that what she called it ? I saw - I shook my head, for the first time angry with my Guardian. That wasn't playing, that was cold-blooded premeditated capital murder, rape, and bodily desecration in the EXTREME ! There was no way absolutely NO WAY there could be a loving and caring God up in heaven to see the people suffer as heavily as I did this night ! I - aged with what I saw. And I couldn't unsee it, and I couldn't cry hard enough for the victims ! "I don't want to go any further !" I told her chattering my teeth, still utterly shocked at what I saw and the fact my Guardian called it all a silly game ! My guardian turned to look at me with a quizzical look on her face and then reached down to kiss me very gently on my cheek and all the rage and anger and hatred with the world just melted away in that single act. She then rose to look at me, seeing that action made a difference, "It gets better from here, little one. Please stay with me just a little while longer." I knew I didn't have to. I could wake up now, or stay. But if I did wake up, would I ever see this strange and beautiful woman ever again, or would I learn more of the incredible things she was showing me ? I nodded my head showing that I would stay, but that I wanted to leave this nightmare RIGHT NOW. She smiled and returned to the glass plate and gave another hand symbol. This one was complex and I couldn't remember it though it involved sliding each of her fingers over each other in a difficult movement. Like hitting piano keys ! We had arrived and found ourselves back at the launching pad at her crystal castle. I looked to her, like there was some error, but there wasn't any. "No, Andrew. This is MY region." And then her voice boomed out as if it was something written in stone: The powers that be create all that you see from here to eternity ! When I didn't speak, mostly because I was frightened by her deafening voice, she added quietly and innocently, "Don't you see ?" I shook my head, no I didn't get it. She put her hand up under my chin to raise it to look up at her, "Understand that God is not the utmost power. He is GOOD, but he is good only because he MUST be. LAW dictates over God and that is another corner of the box you don't need to understand at this time. In any case, we are going to our next destination." She tapped the glass and gave another symbol, an easy one to remember, her three fingers upraised, touching each other and a curled palm with the thumb curled over the pinky. Instead of touching the glass she pointed it up, like poking under a table. "Trinity ?" I asked, because I was certain I saw this hand sign somewhere else. "It is not something I can make a choice upon." she answered back cryptically. Then we were at the gates of Heaven or what appeared to be. There was one fellow on his knees before the entrance and spoke loudly, "Oh God ! I'm so glad I made it here, into your Spirit I commit myself !" and then he fell flat on his face in the misty cloud-like floor. He was obviously admitted entrance for his repentance and piety. And then I thought I recognized his face, it was that preacher I saw earlier ! Surely after what HE DID to that poor acolyte girl there was no way in Heaven he would be allowed - in Heaven !? And yet there he was. The gates were opened wide and he was admitted. I felt sick to my stomach at the sight of that - that MURDERER, that B*****D, entering the kingdom of Christ the way he was. I didn't care of he did repent for what he did, nothing, absolutely NOTHING should pardon him for - for the unspeakable thing - he did ! My guardian answered the silence, "God takes in hundreds of souls every day. But there is more beyond this. My realm is between Heaven and Earth, and I dictate what occurs there." And maybe I wasn't paying attention or she thought I wasn't because suddenly she raised me up by my waist to stare straight into her blue-within-blue eyes and she spoke louder, "I am the WOLF, Andrew. And I am hungry for you. I will see and tend to your soul when it is time and care for you in the land of paradise, always and forever." Then she looked down through the portal with almost a look of rage and contempt, sharing mine, "God is the DOVE and while He is great and good, He over-claims His dominion as you have seen here." She continued, "Mankind has placed Him in a most favorable light. He is recorded in faulted history as all-powerful, all-knowing, and all-seeing. Well, if He truly was, would He let what happened occur to that poor girl you saw earlier ?" She didn't wait for me to respond and continued, "And yet, in all my power and glory, I am made in the image of Him, just as you are, little one, just as all humans are. And I am forbidden from intervening in the affairs of men outside their dreams, just as He is. But He has His own domain and I have MINE and neither the tween shall meet !" She then set me gently back down on the floor of the time-ship but regarded me with a piercing and penetrating gaze all the same, "You must decide, Andrew, who will be your savior ?" And then her voice turned harsh and her face appeared more wolf than human as she peered down to look at me, "Will it be to a blind and careless God as most men in this day worship, or do you take the unbeaten path where =I= alone have earnestly sought you, in MY kingdom of ice and absolution ?" I looked at her and started to cry, as a decision of that magnitude would be too great for me to make just yet - and - in truth she frightened me the way she looked right then, like a hungry wolf that was going to devour me. But then she changed her mood and pulled my head close to her chest where it burned in a comforting warmth and I felt like I couldn't be any more at peace than now and her voice took on a soothing and beautiful one, "But You don't need to choose now, volchoonka, but sometime later in life - and death, you do need to choose. Choose. Choose ..." ... Then I awoke, my entire body drenched in sweat from the vision I had, and my covers were wet from perspiration. I then fell asleep again, though I didn't dream of her anymore that night. I did dream and think of her the days following though.   You are Earth Visitor #

Reviews

[Lady Ra]

This could be an amazing fantasy / sci fi story. Intriguing, raw, and wonderful imagery. Wildly imaginative and sensitive. You've been through so much in your life. It is nice to have such a wise guardian at your side. Great writing. Great talent.

Lady Ra

[dw817]

Thank you ! Just wait, I haven't posted End Days yet. That's a multi-chapter dream, much along the same lines as this. I'll post the first chapter either sometime this week or this upcoming Monday.

[Lady Ra]

Looking forward to it.

Lady Ra

[Tate Morgan]

I would say these experiences are of the type that cause us to create god. Oxygen depravation often causes hallucinations like this. Only my opinion. While its true we search our whole lives for meaning in this life. It is in my opinion the act that also allows us to create beauty. We are the end result of thousands and thousands who passed their hopes and dreams to us one by one. Who is to say what else we inherited?

[dw817]

Well if it's from oxygen deprivation (which is a good bet) it influenced me enough to see her many times over for 6-years, without changing my breathing (that is not holding my breath) - and then years later I met Rose.

And my Guardian said it herself to me, "So long as you are alone - I will be with you."

And yep, she promptly vanished when Rose showed up. I'm still with Rose so, no, I don't see my Guardian anymore.

It's interesting what you say, Tate. I also fully believe yes (to satisfy some Christians) there is INDEED a hell.

But I believe it is a voluntary one. We have so many switches and triggers inside of us. Things that wet our whistle or stroke our mane.

Not to go in great detail, there is S&M and B&D. Interesting states of the mind to be sure. A psychiatrist's paradise.

Who is to say one person hopes, prays, wishes, and has full faith that when they die, they get an absolutely vicious dominatrix that will give them a sound beating every single day - just the way like it.

Whereas someone else would see that as utter hell and want nothing to do with it. One person's hell is another's heaven.

My Dad. Before he died. A month before he died. He took my hand, looked straight at me. He said that he was going away.

I was very upset and tearful. I asked, "What do you do when you die ?"

He smiled and said, "You get to do what you want to."

So yes, there is support right that that we create our own God, our own paradise, heaven, hell, limbo, some ooky kooky place full of glass stairs. I've seen that place before too.

Who knows ?

The human mind at least to me is unfathomable and infinite. Anything is possible.

You might get a chance to see how drugs influence your dreams. Being on Seroquel for many years now I have had quite the few of them. Maybe these are indeed slices of heaven - or hell.

https://www.writerscafe.org/writing/dw817/1228821/

[dw817]

I forgot, my Guardian =was= with me when Dad died. She was there I guess to make sure I wasn't there. And I wasn't.

For about a month I have no memory of what happened after Dad died. Dottie my step-mom said I was that I wasn't there. Sort of like PROT after he went into a Coma. After a month or so I came back and ... well, I was still very upset with Dad being gone and I tried to convince myself he was kidnapped or something.

Even then my brain went a little crazy. I spent some time in a mental ward.

But I must give credit to my Guardian for taking me out of my mind for a month or so - very tragic time. I suspect she would've taken me out longer but maybe a month was all she could manage.

[Tsubaki Kuro]

Wow. This story touched my heart bro. Great job.

[dw817]

Bro ? Hmm ... Glad you like it. I must confess, almost every single story idea I've had to date - they all come from my dreams. Indeed, I must be the Dreamwalker.

[Tsubaki Kuro]

Well dreams are the best source for stories.

[dw817]

I dream books though, Tsubaki. Full books. I keep hoping someone will come out with a device that can scan the brain for not just words but images. I have full memory recollections of dreams - and sometimes it's hard to remember what's a dream and what's not.

That's called a Schizoaffective disorder ...

[Tsubaki Kuro]

Oh. I never heard of that before.

[dw817]

Is why I'm on Seroquel. Have a great evening. Pleasant dreams, Tsubaki.
http://bit.ly/22Wojyi

[Samuel Dickens]

This is quite a phenomenal ride through your thoughts, dreamland, and who knows what/where else. How much is from your imagination and how much from your actual dreams, I've not a clue, but it certainly goes places. The adjectives below all apply--wild, creative, sensitive.

[dw817]

Hi Uncle ! Thanks ! Rose is here making me a grilled cheese sandwich, those are awesome !

read moreHi Uncle ! Thanks ! Rose is here making me a grilled cheese sandwich, those are awesome !

One thing me and my Dr were talking to me about a few months ago - that because of the many medications prescribed by my psychiatrist, that I have difficulty determining what is real, dream, or imagined. And I know when I miss one of pills today I have many MANY dreams that night and I'm restless and wake up WIRED and ready to go. Rose says when I do I talk too fast, I'm too excited, laughing, giggling, and bouncing off the bricks. She says I need to make my anti-psychotics every day or I drive her up the wall - ah well. :)

I had another super-vivid dream which I worked out into chapters called, "End Days." Tuesday is story day so likely I'll post it Monday or Tuesday. Monday of course 50-more neat and new, "Wit & Wisdom !"

[dw817]

Hmm, I think the Read More is having problems if it separates on a blank line, lemme try that reply again.

Let's continue from the sandwich she's makings for me --

Anyways, me and my doctor have talked about this, he said that because of the many different psychiatric medications I've had when I was in the ward, that it's a bit difficult for me today to determine what is real, dreamed, or imagined.

I know if I miss one day of my regular meds, I dream busy BUSY that night and am restless, and the next day I am really WIRED. Rose says I'm talking too fast, laughing and giggling, and bouncing off the bricks and driving her up the wall - and - anyways, she doesn't like it.

Anyhoo ! There was this other super-ultra-vivid dream I had I called originally, "Lorraine" but later, "End Days" and since Tuesday is story day for my schedule, I'll post the first chapter to it either Monday or Tuesday, and of course this Monday I'll be writing up 50-more neato Wit & Wisdom to enjoy !

[Samuel Dickens]

I'm glad to hear that Rose is taking care of you today. A good friend is priceless, you know. Enjoy your Sunday. Talk to ya later. Sam

[dw817]

Yah, she is. I'm writing and stuff so - we talked and I wanna do her life's story and I type REALLY well sometimes so - anyways, she told me about her time in Jersey and I'm gonna try to get some of that posted in here.

[TL Boehm]

WOW! I caught you on Baby Ricochet's feed and thought I would pop over to review - as I've seen you on other pages. Always good to reach out to writers you don't know - and i was completely blown away by this. It is such an unfortunate situation - so many stellar writers are also tormented and it seems you have had your share of trauma - but I hope that the writing is part of the healing. You have a beautiful "voice" you are a story teller and I agree with prior comments - this would make a great sci fant type novel.

[dw817]

My ! Thank you ! My real voice today is -ahhm- pretty timid, so I try to write the way I am. I have cut quite a bit out of it because it was AWFUL what I saw in my dream and I've had enough flaming arrows from Christians to last me a lifetime.

Minju in time I will be posting, "The Power Of Doubt" an article that explains how Doubt to me is an important attribute of intelligence - and where I became a super pin-cushion for die-hard Christians everywhere back in Xanga for it, and I hope it gets a more balanced review in here.

Thanks for visiting ! I know I'm a bit behind schedule, every Thursday I go through my friend list and comment on their top writing, and I'm still doing it ! Friday I'll post not another video-game but a neat little video to watch, hope to see you there !

[Lisa]

I agree with Lady Ra. This could be a great sci fi story. I personally felt as if it was like the book "The Shack" with the similarities of the Guardian also being a heavenly spirit.
Pretty cool and very creative stuff here! :)

[dw817]

The Shack ? This story ?
http://www.guardian.co.uk/books/2008/jul/29/fiction1

[Lisa]

Oh no.. The Shack by Wm. Paul Young http://www.amazon.com/The-Shack-Wm-Paul-Young/dp/160941411X/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1371609391&sr=8-1&keywords=the+shack+by+william+young

[dw817]

Looks like a deep and involving story (reading first 5 opening pages). No - mine was just a dream I had one night. I keep an audio recorded by the bed now. I've got a little over 200+ dreams I haven't written down yet.

Was thinking about starting a book, My Dreams, or something since they are immensely vivid and detailed. Possibly.

[Lisa]

It's a pretty interesting book. Supposidly it's a true story. Your story resembled the type of story of The Shack. I think the idea of a dream book would be cool.

[dw817]

Would definitely be a busy thing. In Xanga I was posting every other odd day 10-bizarre dreams I had from my dream diary. Busy brain. :)

[moonlightwriter]

This was a very interesting piece of writing. :)

[dw817]

I'm glad you liked it ! I've written all kindsa crazy kooky stories from my dreams and while some are about science fiction stuff or me being back at school, others still have a lot to do with religious themes so in time and volley of flaming arrows and hot oil withheld, I will eventually post them all. :)

[moonlightwriter]

I think its great that you can even remember your dreams, because I can't remember mine.

[dw817]

You should get yourself one of those neat audio recorder thingies. They're about $50, well worth it to a writer. You wake up in the night then speak into it, whatever you are dreaming about, then go back to bed. Works great !

[moonlightwriter]

ok thanks! :)

[MandaBear]

Wow this is very interesting to read! Your guardian seems like a friendly one so that is good. I am happy to know you could learn something from your experience. Great write!

[dw817]

Thanks ! I see her more as protective though and not friendly. It's unusual, when I am with here, I feel safe, but it's almost as if in my final days when I am with her, I would've sacrificed my soul to be with her - and while I imagine I would be content - I feel - young, as if all the memories of this world, both happiness and sorrow will not be carried there. Indeed, the 'absence' of it all.

[Baby Ricochet]

A few interesting scenes. Obviously you're an anime guy and the only anime I've ever seen is porn but it was enough to know what the characters looked like so that's what I pictured. I can vouch for the Jackal vice being tough to break. So far as the story itself you need to edit it WAY down cause it's WAY to long. The longer it is on the WC the less it'll be read. They should change the site name to WRITERSADD.

[dw817]

Hi Rico, thanks for the RR. This is actually a short story. I have one entitled, "End Days" which is about 5-6 chapters, likely I'll be posting the first chapter next Monday. My main work, Barrier spans over 1,000 full-length pages, And no, not all Anime is porn.

Some of it is quite lovely actually.
http://dc249.4shared.com/img/pSwC1lg4/s7/njjjj1.JPG

And I have actually cut quite a bit of it out - especially what I saw that preacher do to the acolyte (though I still have that in my original dream notes). I am not understanding the name, "Writersadd ?"

[Baby Ricochet]

Writers with Attention Deficit Disorder. I can't pick the link up on my PC. I'll try my phone.

[Baby Ricochet]

Nope. Phone won't pull it up either.

[dw817]

I'm - not familiar with that either ? But aren't you referring to READERS with attention deficit disorder ? :)

[Baby Ricochet]

Sure