fiction, writing

Soothsaying

She held out her hand and touched my cheek just as Melek would have done. A mother’s touch. “Young Jafar,” She whistled a soft tune and the legless reptiles retreated into small, black baskets which decorated the front of her house.

“You… are a snake charmer?” I asked softly.

“Yes, that is one of my many talents. I foresee great things from you, child. Though I also see a terrifying fate that you may already know of.”

Those words caused me to look up at her in amazement. She knew of the content of the dreams? Was she connected to me in some way? She put a soft hand under my chin and touched her soft lips directly in the middle of my forehead.

I suddenly found myself in a dark place. Treasure littered the ground and I saw an older version of myself on the ground glaring up at a handsome boy who seemed to be a few years my senior. Upon closer observation… it was the man whom was holding me as I laid dying. The man with the silver eyes.

“As you can see child, I have the ability to not only see the future but help young mages such as yourself to see and control visions you have only in your sleeping state.” Alia’s voice rang softly around the air. I walked towards my future self to listen to the conversation.

“You must be joking, I have tried to kill you. You wish me to follow you on your adventures across the seas? For what purpose? You have caught me and you should have gotten rid of me as I would have done to you!”

The handsome boy walked up with a kind smile on his lips. He put an outstretched hand towards my future self. “I do not wish to harm you Jafar. You have lived a hard life, and though you may look like a woman, I believe you can become a great man one day. Do you truly wish to live the life of an assassin for the rest of your days?”

“This decision will be one you must choose carefully. The fate you have prophesized will only take place if you choose one or the other. I imagine you will have about ten years to make the choice you wish.

Advertisements
Philosophy, spirituality, writing

“Evil is in the Eye of the Beholder”

The topic of “evil” is interesting to me. I love to write fiction, and my favorite thing to write for is the villain. Though through the years of attempting to develop the story, I love the most, I’ve realized “evil” is just a point of view. When one person thinks that murder (for example) is a sin, another may need to kill to survive an abuser. If all murder is wrong and evil, then why would the abused be forced to endure such abuse until they die themselves?

I was raised Catholic and was forced to go to Catholic school. I almost failed the “morality” class in high-school because I did not agree with almost everything I had learned. I knew in my heart being homosexual was not a sin, and neither was having sex before marriage. To me, it is all a natural thing and should not be condemned as “evil.” I did not know for sure at the time, but I ended up Pansexual, which means that I have no preference in gender or sex of a person… My current partner (and soulmate) is someone I fell for before I knew she was a female. I fell for her personality. How can something so natural be considered a sinful life?

To me, “evil” is doing something that hurts other or yourself knowing fully well what you are doing and doing it on purpose. If it is something used in defending yourself or another person or people it should NOT be considered evil. Instead it should be seen as it is. Defense.

As for “God,” my view is not the same as many. I believe that no religion is right or wrong. I believe all the gods exist in one or many various realms. I believe the Christian/Catholic/Jewish/etc God exists genderless in their own realm to watch over their followers. My personal pantheon involves Greek, Norse, Hindu, Egyptian, Lakota, and Japanese deities, (mostly Greek). I believe all the Greek (except maybe Hades) lives on Olympus. Hera is my matron while Poseidon is my patron gods. Ares shares me with my partner because he is my god-spouse (which means my astral body and soul is married to him on the celestial plane). I even have a few spirit guides such as Maui, Archangel Gabriel, and the animal spirits of sea dragon, cheetah, hawk, and crow. My belief is different because my feeling towards most of my pantheon is that they are like family to me rather than beings to be worshipped. Osirus and Hades in particular assist me in my journey of my various past lives.

While I believe all of this, I do not disbelieve in other people’s beliefs. My girlfriend’s roommate believes all the Gods exist as one being. I do not hate those who believe in other things, I simply believe something different than them. Coming back to the subject of evil however, I do believe that those who thrust their beliefs on others, act as if theirs is the only religion that matters, and those who kill for their faith is wrong and can be considered evil if they are doing things to hurt people either physically or mentally. I don’t think that evil is a matter of if God really exists, or if they allow it. The Universe, Spirit Guides, and Deities guide us and give us the free will to follow or not follow their teachings. I do not think it is fair to blame evil on the existence or non-existence of “God.” However, as I said before, evil can also be seen as simply a point of view.

As the quote goes, “Evil is in the Eye of the Beholder.”

fiction, writing

Dreams of the Destruction

I was being held down while that horrid serpent slithered freely. Ropes bound my feet and arms behind me. I was bruised all over and there were so many rogues surrounding me and laughing. What looked like a red and black beaten up turban was thrown from my head as my long brown hair fell in front of my face.

“How could you?” I pleaded. There was a man standing in front of me with black hair and seemed to be the leader of this den of thieves. He let out a chilling laugh. One that went right through to my bones. The men holding me kicked me a few times in the ribs as a punishment for my spoken words no doubt. The leader’s laugh subsided and he turned to me. I could not believe what I was seeing. This man had the same black hair, dark skin, and dark eyes… Kassim. What was going on? “You…you loved me once…”

“You should learn to stop being so naïve Jafar.” He said as he squatted down in front of me with a serious face. He had scars on his face and his clothes were ragged. “Do you really think I would allow the Royal Vasir of the King of the Seven Seas to leave the den of the 40 thieves on his own? Your heart has changed as has mine. This world is dark and lonely. We can only do things for ourselves. You hated your life as the Royal Vasir’s son and now you are the Vasir to the most famous King in all of Arabia. What a filthy hypocrite.”

“D…do what every you want with me Kassim… I do not know what happened to you but my wife and daughter do not deserve this. They are innocent and…”

“Innocent?” Kassim seethed. “We were innocent children once. Foolish lovers who thought we could live a life together. Then the real world fell upon us. Have you even told your loving wife and daughter the truth? I could imagine their devastation after finding out what had truly happened to your father, the Sultan, and the Prince that you served as a Vizier in training. Even the events surrounding your finding your precious King is shrouded in blood.”

“Silence! They do not need to know my past. I have put my past behind me.”

“Clearly.” My old friend said with a sinister smile. “Put it behind you so far you never even thought to make sure that I had gotten to a good place once I escaped. Had you ever even tried to find me?”

I felt myself going silent as the cobra hissed angrily at me before Kassim’s younger and more frantic voice awoke me from this trauma.

fiction, writing

Beginning of Fate

It was a few days after I had awoken from my comatose state. I was walking the halls of the Palace trying to refamiliarize myself with the ins and outs when I saw him. He was only about the age of ten at the time.

“Stop being so careless slave!” the brat of a Prince was forcing his personal guard to whip the young man to oblivion. The flogging was so hard and forceful that bits of flesh and blood littered the ground as if it were a scene of someone being killed. It turned my stomach to see someone being treated with such violence.

“W…wait! Leave him alone!” I exclaimed. It was the first words I had actually spoken since I had come back to the “life” as my father described it. Even from that young of an age, I felt as if any injustice should be dealt with. No one should live a life in fear or anguish.

“Jafar? You speak to me like this? I am your prince and you are meant to serve me as Vizier one day,” the pompous prince glared. “Shall I teach you a lesson as well?”

“I…um…” Since I was still so young and naïve I had not a clue what to say to Prince Haroun of Anfanka?

“What is going on here?” My father’s voice rang from behind me. “Jafar, what have you done to disturb the Prince?”

“F…father… why…. Is he hitting this boy?” I asked timidly. I feared my father just as much as I feared the Prince and the Sultan. I was a coward. A stain on the ideals of a future Vizier.

“Son, this boy has no rights. He is but a lowly slave boy of our Palace.”

“Then… why…why can he not… be my slave? I do not like how he is being treated,” I begged. I doubted that I would be able to get my way but something changed in my father’s eyes.“That is the best idea that has come out of your mouth in your entire life. Very well, I will ask permission from the Sultan and allow this boy to be yours. This will teach you what it is like to own slaves.”

Philosophy, writing

Reincarnated Souls vs Zombies

I’m not much of a fan of zombies, yet I love Resident Evil (I can only watch. I’m too much of a wimp to actually play). On a serious note though, since I think of the soul and the body as two separate entities, I think that an answer to the question is no. I believe that the human brain and body are really just vessels to hold the soul in the same way that all creatures are vessels for the soul.

My take on reincarnation, is that the soul is the part that is the real “you.” The many lives you live with the soul is what makes the being and the history of your true self. In every life, you are given a clean slate. A chance to make up for the good or bad karma from previous lives even if you do not remember it.

For me, all my life I felt empty as if something was missing. I never really felt like “myself” and instead compared myself to others, fictional or otherwise. The Catholic faith was not enough for me. It was hard to believe that when you die you just go to Heaven or Hell. It never made sense to me that this was my only chance at life. When I finally got out of Catholic School and searched around for an awnser I went through various beliefs. At first, I went strictly of the Wiccan faith and was mislead and manipulated by others. In the end, I finally broke away from them and realized they were simply blocking me from my full potential.

The first memory I had was a dream. I was angry at a King who had killed my lover. I still remember the robes he wore. Red with black embellishments. After this is when I realized I was the daughter of that King. Since then I have learned so many different lives my soul had lived. When that happened, that hole in my heart (or soul) felt as if it was filled. Even though those I called “friends” wanted me to move on from them, I felt a different way. As though these lives were part of my true self. I was not supposed to let them go. I was supposed to take hold of them, accept them as part of my personal path in the universe. This difference in opinion lead to my losing many friends, but then I found new ones. These new friends accepted me for who I was past, present, and future. I even found the soul of the person I have loved as far back as my memories took me. My “soul-mate” if you will. We talk about our memories as if they were simply part of our live. We banter about the old times, good and bad.

Because of these experiences, my personal belief is that the soul that lives through many lives is vastly different than the physical human body. I believe the soul takes hold of the entire being when a new life is born and that is why the Chakras develop. The energy one lets out through the chakras and soul is what makes a person a person.

With the idea of zombies, I think that it is simply the physical body. Whatever reanimates the body to become a “zombie” I think is very separate from the soul itself. The brain controls the physical body and without a soul, the body is just a body. Not a person. The self-awareness I feel comes from the soul.