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nEvEs.-.-.-. THE SEVEN SHADOWS.-.-.-.sWoDaHs

" I found myself being followed by the seven shadows of a seer. By the little lessons my teacher bestowed in me with each conversation. I look over my shoulder and remain aware that the shadows are always upon me... Making sure they see me as well as I see them. The past, The present, The Absent, The haunting, The Dreaming, The Awakening, and The Neverending. All of the above hitting me at once. All of the above becoming more vicious than ever.All of the above....I still can't explain. If you think you've entered the Seven Shadows....it's just the Seven Shadows entering you..." "
D.M.

" I felt myself becoming haunted by images and visions. I was used to going to them...now they were coming to me. I walked through a daze and didn't really find myself. At times I wonder if it is too late...but I know it's not. I'd lay on my back and there would be a knife. I'd lay on my side and there would be a thorn. I'd lay face down and there would be... another face to see. I was being swallowed alive and I didn't even know it. He doesn't know better but he doesn't know why either...that we could die and still breathe. That we could project and light the way for others. Times like this we're just lighting the way for ourselves....and maybe thats what we have to do before others know too much...And then there I was in the middle of dense foliage and manicured madness. Miles and miles of vast green and grey. I was dressed like the small ghost of a girl who had been murdered by her own hands. I watched and waited as we traveled a path nobody wanted to explore. One that had been kept secret until this night.

I knew nothing of the faces that were staring back at me and at the same time I knew everything. For good measure I could say " It was the best of times...it was the worst of times." Every step seemed to be a contradiction....every breath seemed to be a psalm or a prayer....but to who? I wasn't a child of god but I was begining to wonder if I was a servant to the fallen. Should I have cared when we came across the marking point in the wall? When the trees bent towards the ground and the gritty sand of the Mojave was mixed with the sea? The last gate reached beyond humanity and I was dressed like the apocalypse already happened and I was it's only survivor. Tattered and worn out, banished and bruised, ashes to ashes, and cuts on my knees and little palms....I was looking towards a great big dusted world and a hole in the wall ( so to speak ). I wanted to look in and find the mystery that had been haunting me for nearly three years now. Sometimes, just sometimes... there are no coincidences. There are no such things like that in the other realm...there is no time and there is no limits. Why now have I remotely stumbled across something that may prove otherwise? I closed my eyes and fell into my insanity. I visioned myself becoming that dark place right before a seer becomes one with the scaper...and dreams aren't the playground anymore. For the first time I felt what SHE did....a void. I woke up and realized the playground could be altered....the play toys were no longer made for children. The moon was still white and there would be another tomorrow....for now. To understand what a seer sees is to see the begining and the end, the alpha and the omega, and from then on....only the vast inbetween."

" There is a cold touch here that even I can not explain. Even the light of the sun does not warm it by day. The simple fact remains and that is, I see a world that very few can. I've seen the lost souls that drift. They think they are still alive and they think that they still have a place in this world. Others are stronger, more violent, and it is those whom I believe are without a soul at all. The Violence they create is a mystery to me even to this day. Why must they make things so strange and dark? For a time I lived in America with friends and I thought that I had moved away from these demons. I was wrong. Something happened to me In America. It's still fresh in my mind no matter how hard I try to forget it.

It was very late at night and I went to do the one thing I couldn't do living in Russia. I went out in the back yard to go for a late at night swim. My element is water and I adored the very idea that it was still warm enough to swim in dark waters. Nobody was home and I was eager to swim in just my skin. I sat at the edge of the pool and the trees made shadows along the brick wall. It became very strange and eerie out there. The light from the patio didn't even shine or reflect on the surface of the water. Still, I wanted to swim so I did as best as I could to stop feeling so silly and scared. I jumped in and opened my eyes under water. There was nothing but blackness. I surfaced for air and the water was completely still. Shadows moved from the trees slowly. I floated on my back and looked up at the stars. I closed my eyes and when I opened them again the blackness was above my head. I could see the phantom eyes I used to see in the shadows in Russia. It was all around me. My heart raced and as I went to get out of the water I felt the shadows touch me. Hold me down under the waters surface. I couldn't breathe and I told myself to remain calm. I couldn't make this happen for the life of me. The shadows kept pulling me down under the water. I thought I was going to die there. A ghost or demon or whatever it was, was going to be the death of me in the water. I tried to get air. Maybe it was out of fear but when I felt the icy sting of the hold it had around my neck, I grabbed at it. I had it in my grasp and I came up for air. Face to face I looked at the vision that had struck fear in me for so long. I wondered if this was the end of it all. We stood there at each others grasp and in the back of my mind I could hear it speak in circles. There must have been over a dozen small voices that said the same things to me. They said that no matter where I went, no matter what I did, no matter how far, They would always be there watching me. Then the grasp on my neck was gone and I was left there to watch as the shadows went back into the trees. It was gone again. I climbed out of the pool and blacked out from fear on the grass. I don't know how I got back inside the house and I don't remember anything else but the cluster of shadows from childhood in Russia. Years later I moved back home and They were still there. Reminding me over again that they were still watching me.

( *Note* Yes, in my free time I log into chat and talk with my bay area tricksters. I was waiting for them and drifting from room to room when Walken sent one message after another to me. I dismissed him as annoying and ignored him for a little bit...Hehe! Days later I met my friends again and he frantically sent more messages. I gave in and took the time to talk to him.I'm so glad I did too. The entry you just read by Walken is a little hard for me to swallow...for I experienced almost the exact same thing not too long ago. I want to take this time to thank Walken once again for his time and patience Hehe. Thank you Walken. )

" Keepers of the North Gatta, I summon thee, to respect thy wishes and grant thy desires"
Keepers of the South gatta, Fire and blood, I summon thee to identify and keep watch of the physical plane"
Keepers of the West, I summon thee by night, to lurk within the setting suns powers and plight"
Keepers of the East gatta, cold and far, I summon thee to carry out these wishes after all the gatta have vanished"
And I said these words lighting the torch at the ocean's side with more to come after the sparks fell in the water.
"Hail to the keepers, be still and silent as we call upon the Great Mother and Father's blessings who's names we know only as The God and Goddess."

Then my head rested on my shoulder when I walked back to the circle dug into sand and I closed my eyes whispering Thrones I never whispered before.
" Azmannakah of the seventh circle of Hell and Stone, be with us in the night."
" Zaramiah of the fallen watch Azmannakah as he falls to earth."
"Uziealle of the thrid circle, make thy mark quickly with the sword of destruction."

And then I waited for a few seconds, and I felt nothing but regret as my toes curled under the sand and the hand of death embraced my shoulders quickly. I fell back on the sand violently and my whole body was shaking with fear. The words I whispered were for infusion and these Arch beings wanted a nesting place. They wanted flesh and blood. I was there watching in fear. I felt the fire quench and the tides grow stronger. Never underestimate the power the Ivory Coast has when she has been disrespected and angered.

I was scared speechless as the thrones circled me and watched with those eyes, the eyes of fury and anger. They asked nothing and took everything and the tides came in stronger. The first throne invaded my body and I felt like I was being split in two. I couldn't breathe and I saw visions of the four horsemen stampeading towards the sand. I couldn't see their cloaked faces. They clattered like thunder and electric shock. I was going to be sick soon. The second throne came at me quickly and invaded me in little ways. I saw huge beings covered in blood, naked muscle and no flesh. Eyes and metal. Swords and an infinate army of demons chattering on and violating the innocent. The third throne circled me and showed me pain I never knew. I was on the verge of death. I knew I was. I had to be. My eyes would hardly open and when they did, a great light blinded me and every nerve in my body was stinging. It felt like I was sliced from limb to limb. Then when the thrones were finished showing me the error of my ways they left me on that coast alone. My fires extinguished and flames put out. My circle unfinished, and then I ran. As fast I could back to the safe of my home."

" It was cold and then the winter air chilled our skin. We sipped old whiskey and the ol' joker said we're not going to die anymore. It never used to matter how cold it was outside. How many dried dead leaves had fallen to the frozen ground. How much snow covered the frozen blades under our feet. So now the structure that stands, the building I live in seems very naked and empty. Just a while ago it was filled with the memories of my lovers lipstick, my best friends cigarette's and my sister's cooking. More snow fell and iced the windows. We laughed like kids and after so many nights of studying we put on our rain slickers and raced down the icy streets. The air was cleaner then and we lay on our backside sliding down the ice covered cement. Cars parked and dead in the driveways. Roses at the state of bud and frozen over. Now together as we created that kind of warmth we allowed time to distance us. We became severed.

Now when the Icy rain drips and the snow dies off I can still see us playing like children. I can still smell my sisters cooking and my ex-lovers perfume in the fabric of my chair. My best friends sigh when pages in those books turn. I've learned that spirits aren't the only ones who can haunt. Time is the biggest poltergiest of our lives. I can't seem to forgive it nor escape it. I turn a corner and see her blushing smile. I walk through rooms and smell the whiskey. I sit and become comfortable, but moments later that sigh haunts me again.

If I look for those times again I slowly realize it's not the same and it never will be. Not like it used to be. I was hoping these memories would leave me. I come to find they get stronger and another year passes. Still it gets colder. I burn a candle and the rain turns to ice again. I never really realized that no matter how cold it was outside in those bittersweet times......no matter what was going on in our lives.....it was so warm. Warm with the comfort of friends and lovers. Warm with the laughter and drunken humor. Warm because we stood together as one. It was never cold when we were one like that. Now the icy rain pounds on the windows here. A place that seemed enchanted and busy. Like minded and now neverminded. Yea, the past is haunting me again and it's been nearly two years now. Every place I turn to. Every face I see....I think it might be theirs. It never is. I make my way alone in this leather trench coat wondering where will I find them? In another time? In another place as lit and warm as my castle? Maybe in another realm? I shutter to think. I took my last breath and the ol' joker was found nowhere. I'm being haunted by the past....and I'm not going to die anymore."

" I carried with me this pain. It was always there. I would open my box of charms and take out the blade. To free the pain and free the burden of carrying it. A small wound was made usually on my leg, near the ankle. The sting and the burn became a friend. I told nobody of this nightly ritual. Then I met a friend who shared the same ritual as I. He was beautiful to look at. It was like he needed to be mothered and taken under my wing. He carried the same pain as I did. One night when it was really late I watched while he took out a small piece of glass from his backpack, and he didn't say anything as he traced the sharp end down his arm.

I was stunned. It was the most perfect thing I had seen in a long time. Well, I remembered him looking up at me and he handed me the piece of glass. I said nothing and handed it back to him. He took a deep breath and took my arm very gently. Then he made the same mark on my arm as he did on his. We bled together. Part of the pain draining from our bodies. We licked the stress away. Days later I didn't see him at class. I asked the few friends he had if they knew where he was. They wanted to tell me something but stuttered when they tried. But I knew what had happened. He took it too far this time. The only beautiful human being I ever knew sliced his life away. I walked back to my home. I was shocked and in despair that he was gone. I looked down at the scar he had made on my arm. It was his name now.

That night I cried myself to sleep until I was numb. I wanted to pick up the blade again but couldn't even do that. I sat and fixed my stare on the wall. Then a sharp feeling stung at my arm. I was bleeding from the scar my beautiful man made. I was afraid of it all of a sudden. Then the bleeding stopped. For years this happened. It still happens. The love I felt for him in that short ammount of time, the way we would bleed together in silence, and the way he left so soon. When I get to feeling like this every now and then, the scar bleeds and stings as if he is doing it for the very first time. You're probably thinking I am crazy for telling all of you this. You probably don't even believe me but it's true. He carved me and even after death his memory makes me bleed."