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The magick New Year candle's lit. It's flame burns brightly. Carved into the candle is a sacred incantation to amplify and facilitate blessings throughout the New Year. The magick is not the candle, flame, or incantation. The magick's BELIEVING. The magick's FAITH. The magick's holding a VISION for "ALL good things, for the highest good, harming no one." I embrace the magick! This is going to be an AMAZING year! This is THE year to live and love FULLY, COMPLETELY. The year's already blessed, because YOU are in my life.
I love you the mostest.
Always, and in ALL ways.
My relationships are important to me. Because of the demands on my time, I don't get to share quality time with ANYONE,
myself. So for New Year's Day, I decided to veg out. I took a great shower, dressed up in my red flannel nightgown, and focused on r e l a x i n g and being at peace; but as is always the case, friends and family would "pop" over, which I absolutely enjoy, however, there was an outcry from many who felt left out. Jealousy reared its ugly head. So for the record, I DIDN'T HAVE A PARTY AND UNINVITE ANYONE ON PURPOSE.
"I have an appointment with you on the 15th. I'm bringing my own tape recorder, because your tape recorder is faulty." she said. "Faulty?" I asked. "Well, there were all these voices on the tape. It sounded like a party going on. I couldn't make out which voice was my deceased husband, because they were all talking at once and so quickly...but you were doing a good job repeating what they said." (Ironically, she and I were the only ones "physically" sitting in that session. The taped voices were those on the "other side."
it's a "faulty" tape.)
His name's Ken. For the past four years, he's been watching me. When he sees I notice him looking at me, he blushes, smiles, and acknowledges me with a very friendly "hello." Today, I came out of a session and he was standing outside smiling like the cat who swallowed the canary. "After all this time, I'm ready." he said. "Ready?!" I asked. "Yes! I'm going to have a session with you!" he beamed excitedly. "YOU'RE KIDDING!" I exclaimed, as I feigned passing out. "You're very special Quanita, and I wanted the moment to be just right." he said, blushing.
"Ask him, "Is red, red? Is blue, blue?" Man defines what's red, what's blue. But is red really blue, and blue really red? We're conditioned to believe man's definitions, until we allow ourselves to open our eyes and see the infinite possibilities. Do not live by what man defines as worthy, beautiful, or Godly. Have the courage to experience sensations and miraculous manifestations beyond man's finite comprehension. Our uninhibited explorations take us to the thrones of divine bliss. Red is blue. Blue is red. You are he. He is you. I am he. We are one. WE are the divine."
"You must not let anyone put out your fire energy..." This is what my Feng Shui Master said to me. She said I need a strong man who will honor the Goddess I am, and not put out my fire. A man who is a strong father figure type, who will adore the little girl in me, and thoroughly enjoy the magickal, passionate side of me. Whoever he is must be strong enough to enjoy the attention I receive, keep pace with me spiritually, and not hold me back. This is the balance my spirit needs consistently. She's absolutely right.
I enjoy running my fingers through his hair and gently massaging his scalp. I love when he snuggles against my breasts, as I cradle him lovingly. His hands soothingly stroke me. His mouth teasing my nipples. He becomes so relaxed, he falls asleep. He looks like a little boy when he is sleeping. Closing my eyes tightly, I pray with all my heart for time to stand still, so that I might enjoy our heaven one moment longer. And when he opens those dark, brown, eyes, and smiles at me, I am happy.
And this is how I die.
"It's not the same." he said solemnly, "It pales in comparison to holding you in my arms; seeing your eyes dance; hearing your laughter." Suddenly I was nearly knocked to my knees by huge waves of emotions. These weren't my emotions, they were his... He was crying out to me in the future, from the depths of his soul. I felt so limited in my ability to comfort him. I could feel his arms aching for me. I could feel his mourning... Then I heard the music... He was holding a music box, which was playing a Grateful Dead song.
Why would anyone break the heart of someone they love? I'd rather hurt myself than hurt someone I love. And if you know, in advance, that your actions are going to hurt someone you love, why do it? Hurting someone you love means you don't love them. Ultimately, you are hurting yourself. Why waste time hurting someone you love? Wouldn't you just want to enjoy them fully, completely? I, personally, don't want to be hurt by someone I love. I certainly don't want to hurt someone I love. Love feels good, hurt doesn't.
don't hurt me. I love you.
Okay I figured out. It all makes sense now. Last night, I was watching "Surreal Life" with family and friends, and there was Christopher Knight. Remember him?! Peter Brady of the Brady Bunch. DAMN he is one God Damn Good Looking grown up man, inside and out!!! Then all of a sudden, clarity. He's got those eyes...like my high school sweetheart...like My Twinkie. And the more I watched him, that little girl pre-teen crush came up and enveloped my heart. So all night I dreamed of Christopher Knight. STUD.
Give me those damn "pork chops and apple sauce."
It's taken great discipline to listen to the guidance I've received via unconventional methods. This isn't an easy task, because my conscious mind rationalizes and looks for facts, and the opposition around me continues to challenge my choices. I choose to "believe." I choose to "believe" in a universe so vast, so wonderful, that the possibilities are infinite. A couple of days ago, I listened to his voice from the future, and executed an unusual sensual technique. The results were divine arousal, beyond his present self's imagination. None of it would've manifested, if I didn't listen and believe.
As he thrust deep inside of me, I became aware of this beautiful light, that came from his heart, and surged through his penis, into my womb, orgasmically blossoming in my heart. As he would pull back, he drew in the majestic energy of my heart, into his penis, up to his heart.
This concentration of divine sensation and energy is called, "The Cradle of the Universe."
It's one of the ultimate expressions of lovemaking. It's the "cradle of creation." It can be utilized to manifest "all that is." It's strength is the bond of unconditional love, which heals timelessly.
I'm deeply in love with him. I feel his ethereal arms holding me close. He's my heaven. So what is it that I want? What do I do with this knowledge? I can't deny it. I can't run from it. I just want to enjoy it. Accept it. Feel it. How do I express how healing his presence in my life is for me? Typing this is so emotional for me, I can barely see the monitor through my tears. And this being apart is RIDICULOUS! Yet we are inseparable. I understand this now. He's the love of my lifetimes.
DeLila lounged seductively on sultry, silk, pillows, casually stroking the inside of her thighs.. She is a "Daughter of the Night," a courtesan of pleasures and delights. Many desire her private attention, but she is selective of her prey. She hides behind the face of an angel, when in fact she is a puppeteer, dangling men by their tiny balls, while she sucks their fortunes dry. Now she was faced with a stimulating reality, the thought of which made her creme. They brought him in shackled and blindfolded; by the size of his erection, he was ready to be sucked.
"I'll be flying through to Italy in March, I'd love to spend some time with you." he said with that handsome, teasing voice of his. "Really?" I said, my heart stopping. "If I remember correctly, we have some unfinished business, we need to repeat." he said seductively. My mind started racing... Let's see, the last time my high school sweetheart and I were together, we tore up a hotel room. He had no hesitation worshipping the Goddess, and pleasing my cha cha. "Come on, you know you want to, and I know exactly what to do to make you purr.................."
To whom it may concern, and for the record, "I love him. I love him. I love him. I love him. I love him. I love him.I love him. I love him. I love him.I love him. I love him. I love him.I love him. I love him. I love him.I love him. I love him. I love him.I love him. I love him. I love him.I love him. I love him. I love him.I love him. I love him. I love him.I love him. I love him. I love him." Repeat
I know you. We've done this before. Each time more exquisite than the last. I know how to pleasure you. You're a smart man to submit. I'd say the pleasure is all mine, but the erotic sounds you articulate during intimacy say it all. We're not finished yet. I hope we're never finished. Now I understand Christopher and Cristina's behavior. Part of the ecstasy is not only in discovering, but in re-discovering. We both benefit, wouldn't you agree? When I looked up and saw the smile on your face today, it was one of the happiest days of my life.
Your eyes speak volumes to me.
Yesterday, I looked at you, and your eyes were so happy. But you know what was really cool? Right before you climaxed, I looked into your eyes, and I saw "Count Dracula" eyes. The eyes of yearning. The eyes of desire. The eyes of wanting. VERY SEXY. And if you had been Count Dracula, I would have exposed my neck to you and let you suck me dry. Then......I would bite your ass back...Nah, I take that back, I would suck your sweet cock so good, the dead would rise.
Look into the eyes of the Seer Beloved, what do you see?
I'm very, very, very, very, very, sad right now. I know this will pass. It's not chronic depression, my response is to something beyond my control. I've learned through years of counseling, not to hold these feelings inside, to allow myself to process them, and when I am ready, move forward. Maybe I'm more scared than sad. I'm not going to give up.
I FINALLY REACHED A POINT IN MY LIFE WHERE I AM ENJOYING LOVE, LOVING, AND BEING LOVED. I WANT TO CONTINUE TO ENJOY IT.
DO YOU HEAR ME GOD/ESS?!!!! I've done my part, now you
"Don't measure your life by how many breaths you take, but by moments that take your breath away..."
So far, in this lifetime, there have been four exquisite moments that took my breath away. The first three were when my children were born. I fell in love with them the moment I held them in my arms. It's an indescribable feeling, that's priceless. The fourth one was when I saw My Twinkie leaning against the doorway looking at me. When someone or something takes my breath away, I pay attention. All four moments announced the greatest loves of my life.
NEWS FLASH!!! I'm NOT normal, I'm
Our society has a "measure of perfection" for just about everything. I came into this world exotic, I'll depart exotic. I wasn't meant to be a Barbie Doll, I'm a Polynesian Goddess. When people come up to me and tell me they want to be just like me, I ask them, "Why?!" The world would be boring with a whole bunch of Quanitas. I think people should be "just like they are." SO WHAT if it's not what society deems "perfect..." they aren't the boss of you. Celebrate your FABULOUS uniqueness, I do.
What if you were told by doctors, "Every day you wake up is a miracle," how would you live each moment of your life? Makes you think, doesn't it? For me, nothing except LOVE would matter. I'd want my loved ones to know how much I love them, and even then, it wouldn't be enough. I choose to make every moment with the people I love THE most specialist. When I get up in the morning, I'm going to choose to be happy, because that means I have one more day to LOVE you unconditionally, and
that IS my miracle..
"Home is where the heart is." In my heart, you'll always be home, distance or time can't separate us. And when I see you, when I listen to you talk, expound, smile, laugh...I'm home. Remember, you'll always have me to come home to. Look deep inside your heart, and you'll understand what it is I'm saying to you. It's the sacred space where we're both happiest, but that doesn't mean others aren't invited. In "our" home we're surrounded by so many colorful friends and family, but the bestest space, is when we're in each other's arms. I, LOVE, you.
It takes a lot to make me angry. Today was the straw that broke the camel's back. When I'm tired, I'm tired. If I tell you I need to take a nap, I need to take a nap. DO NOT call me up on the phone and have a little baby fit because YOU want my full, complete, attention, EXCLUSIVELY. What the heck is that all about any way?! If you're going to be in my life, then you're going to have to accept that E V E R Y O N E and their cockroaches want my attention. Take a number. Get in line. NEXT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
"Are you awake?" I whispered. "Yes..." he responded. "What are you doing?" I inquired. "Thinking of you." he said. "Really?!!!" I smiled. "Uh huh..." he said. "Want to talk?" I asked. "Yes and no..." he replied. He placed my hand on his throbbing penis. "Is that a statement, or are you expressing an opinion?" I teased, running my fingertips lightly over his shaft. "What do you think?" he said, pressing against me. "I think.........." I said, sliding underneath the covers... The erotic tones of him groaning decadently, while I seduced his sweet penis, told me he was formulating an opinion.
"I'd do anything for you Goddess."
Kevin smiled seductively. "Anything?!" I innocently tilted my head forward, fluttered my eyelashes, and leaned forward in an interested fashion.
"A n y thing."
he said, unbuttoning his shirt. "Would you strip dance for me and my girlfriends in exchange for a reading?" I asked. "I'd strip for you without a reading." he said stroking across my cheek romantically. OH MY LORD, OH GOD/DESS ALMIGHTY, my mind raced with erotic possibilities........................ All I'm going to say is, "Dark chocolate looks good stroked with baby oil." But I'm not craving Ho Ho's,
I've got THE most delicious Twinkie.
In the Sapphire month she emerged on a small, exotic, island on the Pacific Ocean. The c-section took a toll on her Mother, who laid bleeding to death in the hospital. Her father, barely twenty, proudly carried her home to their tin shack. A Tsunami suddenly rolled in, washing the tin roof off, striking him in the head. He collapsed on top of her. Hours passed... Regaining consciousness, he tearfully rolled off of his firstborn daughter, assuming she was dead. He lovingly scooped her into his arms, pressing her against his chest. She yawned, opening her beautiful, almond, Seeress eyes.
I lost my virginity when I was fifteen years old. It was in the back seat of a azure blue Camaro, at a drive-in. His name was Glen. Now I call him "Vick the Dick." He was twenty-one, in college, tall, lean, wore braces, and had acne. He was the first guy
ever chose to French kiss. I enjoyed making out with him. That night I was curious, and he was anxious... He was so aroused, he wouldn't take "no" for an answer. I remember screaming, crying, and begging him to stop... He didn't. It wasn't magickal or romantic.
She balanced the Hummingbird feather on the tip of her finger. "Look!" she said excitedly, "It appeared out of a nowhere!" When she tried to remove it, it would disappear, and then just as quickly, reappear. "What do I do with it?" she exclaimed. "Put it in your mouth and swallow it. If it's a magick Hummingbird feather, it will taste like spun sugar." I replied. She carefully lifted her finger to her mouth, and sucked the delicate, white, feather off her pointer finger. Afterwards, examining her finger closely, she said, "Mmmmm...It tasted like the sweetest piece of candy."
My mind flooded with worries. Insomnia set in. I kept tossing and turning. About 4 a.m. he stood next to my bed, looking at me with such compassion and concern. "You need to sleep. I'm going to watch over you while you sleep." he said, tucking my blanket securely around me. His hands were so loving and warm. "Close your eyes, I promise I won't leave." he said, kissing my heart. I closed my eyes for a moment, then opened them quickly to see if he was still there. He smiled, snuggling next to me, holding me close. "Sleep Goddess."
Why does his future self keep popping up?! It's as if he wants me to tell him, "Don't fuck this up." What is it exactly he would be fucking up? I, personally, feel he's already spent too much time recycling his fuck ups. Twinkieship aside, if he fucks this up, he's on own. On a side note, he should CAN the new hair stylist. She's cutting his hair too short, at the back top of his head, exposing where his hair is thinning. Unless he wants to start parting his hair so it flaps over, he should implement the change immediately.
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