Category: Dream Journal

Dream Journal, Life, Stories

Taken into the Stars: Returning (Part 4)

Everlasting Sirua

I waited for him to get off the bus and make his way down the train station and into a cart. I rushed in, and we stood at opposite ends of the cart. As the cart emptied, I sat down, and so did he. Eventually, the cart was empty. I gripped my backpack and willed myself not to walk over to him. I’ll make sure he goes home and worry about the rest later.

A man got into the cart; I could smell he was drunk. He sat across from me, and when I looked up at him, I could see his smile spreading across his face. “You’re pretty….” My stomach churned, and I could feel power pulsing with every heartbeat. Why now…

He started to stumble towards me when someone blocked my view. “Back off…” I was suddenly staring at Conrad’s back. I felt my throat dry as the drunk guy spoke, “I…I’m saying hi to the girl, man.” Conrad stood there firm, “Go screw off somewhere else.” The drunk guy pushed Dean back and went off to the side. Conrad barely flinched. The guy went into his coat jacket and pulled out a knife. He launched himself at Conrad, and I could smell blood. Conrad managed to get the knife away and snapped the guy’s wrist. He went down on his knees with his hand pressed to his side. Power surged through me, and I threw my hand out.

The man was knocked backward and slid across the cart. The lights flickered in the train cart, and I went to Conrad. He was still kneeling and covering his side. I scrambled my vocal cords to hide my authentic voice and gently said, “I think you need to see a doctor…” He shook his head. “I have a raging headache, and I feel dizzy. I need to go home and rest.” I didn’t notice my hood slipped off; our eyes met. His face was confused as he held his shocked gaze on me. For a moment, I could feel warmth, hope, and confusion all at once. It came like waves. Then despair ravaged him as he slowly said, “Sorry, you almost looked like someone I used to know….” 

When his stop came, he gathered his things and walked off the train cart. The drunk guy was knocked out sleeping. He will likely wake up and harass someone else or have a hangover; quite frankly, he’s lucky only to have his wrist broken. So I followed Conrad off the train.

“Hey, let me ensure you get home safe if you pass out or need medical help; I will be there and want to ensure you’re all right.” He sucked his teeth. “I don’t need your help…I live nearby.” His voice was always husky and deep, even sultry when he spoke affectionately to me, but now it had a rasp that I didn’t recognize, an edge of sadness and rage. We walked in silence as we approached the house. He never moved away and still rented in the house we lived in. I walked with him to the door. He searched for his keys and started opening the door, then stopped. “You can come in. Seeing as though you have nothing better to do than walk a stranger to the door.” I smirked. “Don’t worry. I can protect myself”.

Everything was bare for the most part. He had upgraded some tech here and there. The tv, probably a new console, and he bought a pc, finally. He closed the door behind me. I heard a meow, and our cat, Bruce, came out from the depths of who knows where. I felt my heart swell. The little black kitten was gone; now, here was a handsome black cat with piercing yellow eyes. 

Bruce stopped and gazed at me. His body was tense, and his fur was lifting away from his body as Conrad walked past him. Bruce cautiously smelled me, his coat relaxed, and he instantly started rubbing against me. His meows echoed throughout the place. I missed him so much. I crouched down to pet him, and he headbutted my face as I lifted him into my arms, giggling. I could feel eyes on me. I looked at Conrad, who was staring at us intensely. “Is he hungry?” I asked. Conrad snapped out of it. “Yeah, let me just…” He took a couple of steps before his voice trailed off, and he wobbled. He was panting and grimacing, “Hey…come sit down. I’ll feed him. You need rest.” I took his hand, and he flinched. I sat him on the couch. I quickly found everything for Bruce and fed him. I walked over to Conrad, whose eyes were closed. “Let me check your wound; keep your eyes closed, okay?” He nodded. I softly touched his forehead and sent him to sleep for a bit. I lifted his blood-soaked shirt. The wound was still leaking blood. I grazed my hand over his injury; it was more profound than he would let on, but no vitals were hit. I hummed, and warmth poured into my hand. Slowly the wound closed, and the bleeding subsided. 

I rose to my feet and walked around the place. Had he hidden our photos? Did he ever move on? There wasn’t a sight of anyone else living here besides him and Bruce. I felt both relieved and anguished for him. If he never moved on, it meant he suffered this whole time and my family…mom, dad, and twin brother Kieran. This was going to be insufferable. I felt Bruce climb up my back to my shoulders. He was nuzzling my cheek. “Hello there. Did you keep him company this whole time? I knew you’d be amazing.” He meowed happily as I continued my rounds in the place. 

Conrad gasped and suddenly sat up, gripping the couch. His eyes looked down to where his wound used to be, and confusion set in. “What?” I could sense his anxiety building. “It doesn’t hurt. Where did it go?” He looked up at me and stared. He had been working out, from what I could tell. His muscles flexed with every movement. His dark hair was longer now. We didn’t say anything for a while, then I asked, “Coffee?” and I was off to prepare him coffee. I pretended to look for the items, although I knew exactly where everything was. I felt his presence as I saw him leaning against the kitchen entryway. For a moment, he only followed my movements. Then he slowly said, “You know…it’s funny. You seem familiar. It’s like seeing my dead girlfriend possess someone else and waltzing in here. Maybe I’m starting to see things.” I held my breath, I added sugar to his coffee and stirred. “The only girl I ever trusted was Kailani, yet I let you in here. I don’t even know your name. She might haunt me for it.” 

I laughed. I could tell he couldn’t decide whether to chuckle at his joke or if I had lost my mind. “So, this whole time…you never let a girl in, all these years cause your alleged dead girlfriend might haunt you?” He shrugged. “You didn’t know her. There was something magical about her. Her intuition was deadly accurate, and she could read people like no other. Call it witchy instinct, but she had a beautiful soul.” I gazed at him; his face had this melancholy look. “She was everything. And it’s not alleged…She’s dead…it’s been four years. There’s no other reason…why she wouldn’t come back. Someone took her from me, her family, her life….” His voice wavered between despair and anger. “I’m crazy telling you this. I think you should go now…thanks for everything.” He was walking away, and his back turned, heading towards the door. I couldn’t let this keep going. He had suffered enough. Life wouldn’t be the same. But if there was anyone who could handle this eventually, it was him. So, I unmasked my voice and reverted to my default appearance. 

“Conrad…” 

His body froze at the sound of my voice. I could hear his heart beating. His breath quickened as he squeezed his hand around the doorknob; I could see his knuckles whitening, and he slowly turned around. His eyes widened. He was breathing quickly; blood drained from his face. He was hyperventilating. His raspy voice barely choked out painfully, “Kai… Lani?”

Hello! Thank you for reading the next part in my series Taken into the Stars! I’ve discovered that I could create podcasts featuring an audible read along with either my voice or the softwares used in something called Anchor. In the next few weeks I will try to attempt this and see how it works. I’m nervous and excited! As always. Stay sweet and reach out to me with feedback. Would love to hear what you all think of the series thus far!

Dream Journal, Life, Stories

Taken Into the Stars: Intro

Everlasting Sirua

Chapter 1: When They Came For Me

One moment, I was looking up at the stars on the porch. The phone beside me buzzed, and I opened a message from my boyfriend. “I miss you love.” I started to type back when I felt dizzy, and a pounding headache brought me to my knees. It felt as though gravity was pulling me down. It was suffocating my entire being. “Help” was all I could manage to send back to him, my last words.

A flash of light lit up in the darkness, and everything around me went silent. I looked up at the blinding light. I was screaming, but no sound came. An unknown force swept up my body. Suddenly, cold darkness came over me. I could hear whispering in the distance. I was numb, shivering from the cold? Fear? I couldn’t tell if I was standing, sitting, or floating. There was faint whispering as I drifted away.

It’s been four years since then. Life on this planet was beautiful despite the abduction and their experiments. None were painful, but they changed me…into something else. The abducted humans were treated as superiors. Those who completed their transition would then have a choice between going home or staying to learn more about the universe or expanding their peaceful life here with the others. All had chosen to remain; except me.

Hello everyone! This is the start of a series I’m writing. More to come soon! If you’re enjoying please feel free to comment. Anything I post here are drafts that’ll eventually be put together into a book one day hopefully. The inspiration comes from past dreams and I fill in the details or add to it. Hope you all enjoy. Photo is from the AI avatar Lensa using my own selfies. I loved how it came out!

Affiliate Links, Dream Journal, Hobbies, Life

Journaling: A Decade of Life

Everlasting Sirua

When I was first introduced to the concept of a diary I was about maybe 7 years old. Putting my feelings and events onto paper as a way to recall moments in my life. The concept was sort of odd to me but I loved writing and took to it right away. At first I’d write about my day, video games I played, and books I liked. Eventually, once I had my first crush (who’s now my husband) I’d include him in there too. I even recall my last entry before it was lost or thrown once I moved away. “If there’s such thing as love. I hope it’ll be my crush.” An 8 year old manifesting her destiny. Now, twenty years later. Here we are.

I continued to journal after that. I started another journal at 11 and wrote in it until I was 13. I even kept a different journal that my best friends or friends in middle school would pass notes on. No secrets. Mostly asking about each others day and things people already knew about us. But my journaling at home came to a halt once I realized my parents and aunt were reading it. Which violated any trust I had left of them. I was devastated and felt exposed. Turmoil even set in since I didn’t have anywhere to put my thoughts, vent and write freely since I knew I was running the chance they’ll find it again.

I didn’t write in another journal til I was about 19 years old. After my husband and I began dating I was overwhelmed with emotions and kept falling deeper in a hole. I finally gave in and began writing again. This time I had my own room and more hiding places. Thus a decade of writing began. My life from 19 years old til now. My dreams, fears, moments in time that I had long forgotten, and snippets of moments whether it be good or bad. It’s weird looking back at 19 year old me. How much I’ve grown and how she, the past me, doesn’t know what’s to come and when it does gel she managed it. There’s happy, sad, success and despair at every turn. Times where I shook my head from how naive and lost I was.

Journaling gives me a release. Once I moved in with my husband. I wrote freely and whenever I wanted. It gives me a chance to relive moments again and compare to the person I was. The growth and experiences on paper shaping me to the present. This is probably why I took to blogging as well. A different approach of journaling to an audience about my experiences and share about my journey.

At times I feel alone in my journal journey. Quite frankly I’m yet to meet someone who has saved their journals/diaries through the years as I did. I’ve also bought new journals for future writing. Tried different pens for writing.

Thus far I enjoy the lined smaller journals like this journal on Amazon. It’s small, cute and sturdy. Easy to store in a drawer and a built in book mark so you don’t lose where you’re at. I also bought these cute Cat pens a couple of years ago that I still use for anything. If you like thin tip pens (.38mm) these are for you!

Don’t like thin pens or feel like you always can’t find a pen? I bought this 144 count Bic Pens and I do like them since it’s smooth and just the right size tip (1mm). I took it to work for office use and left a few at home for back up. Ones that I have on my wish list to try are these Cute pink pens and it has a pink highlighter as well! Definitely love the aesthetic and the clip designs. If you’re a planner like me or need to write things down to organize yourself better there’s this adorable Sakura planner that I love! It’s undated so you can get this and wait til 2023 if you want to date, add and customize it to your liking.

I hope you enjoyed this bit of insight into my life. Writing has always been a part of me. I hope to continue but in the form of fiction stories. Do you enjoy writing? Journaling? Kept a diary at some point? Comment below. As always, stay sweet, everyone.

**Disclaimer: As an Amazon Associate/Affiliate this blog earns commission from links used above to make purchases.**

Dream Journal, Hobbies, Life, Stories

Dream Stories: To Write or Not

Everlasting Sirua

I’ve been dreaming things up in my imagination for a while now. My earliest dreams were pretty dark considering the amount of scary movies I’d seen or imagined up myself in the dark before falling asleep. I was definitely one of those kids with the nightmares almost constantly every night. Except I never grew out of them til I was in a safer place. Surrounded by 3 cats and a family. Suddenly, these dreams weren’t so scary.

Not all or every dream were horror nightmares. Some were about my life or a different perspective or timeline of my current life. Many things that are unexplained or shown to me out of spiritual connections. However, some were actually a good plot to stories. I still recall them in a fair amount of detail. At times I wonder if I could write it all out. Publish and have people read to see if they’ll enjoy it. Fear and time have stopped me thus far. Will I ever be ready for this?

Maybe with a little bit of time and once I graduate school I’ll have some time to open up my laptop and type what on my mind. Starting is drag but finishing might be enlightening.

Random blog I felt like writing. Lately I’ve been tired and dealing with slight health issues, nothing crazy. Could be lack of sleep and rest. I’ll be back soon with updates and more tarot. Stay sweet everyone!

Dream Journal, Stories

Dream Stories: Haunted Cabin Part 2

Everlasting Sirua

I’m starting a short story series inspired by dreams I have had in the past. A lot of it consist of assumptions of the way the dreams were carried. Stories are vague since there’s no true beginning or end. Some characters have no name and barely any dialogue. Also some of these stories are meant for an older audience since sexual situations are depicted. I’ll rate them as I go. Here’s part 2! Enjoy

I woke up in my bed. My mother caressing my hair. “Are you alright!?” I tried to explain that I saw something outside. Dad looked out the window. He sees nothing. Whatever it was. It was gone and I was trembling. Had I imagined it? I wanted to get out. I felt this sense of not belonging. My mother told me I was probably tired from the many nights of being awake and hardly any sleep. I bit my cheek and did feel tired from the ordeal. I drifted off to sleep. Was I even safe to dream?

Morning came. It was quiet. No birds chirping. Just the sounds of my parents murmuring. Coffee brewing. A knock on the door. My name being called and the shock of seeing a guy standing the middle of the living room. He hardly looked at me and gazed out the window. My parents introduced him and said they had been partnering with him for a while now. He would be working in the library for a few days and if I could keep him company while they went about their research that he was assisting them on. When I asked his name you could hardly hear his voice. But I nodded and took in his overall appearance. His hair dark as a raven’s wing barely covering his eyes. His eyes darker than the coffee he was sipping on. Skin was a cream color as if it hadn’t seen sun in a while. His facial hair was well kept and made him appear older. He was cold, distant, as if his whole world had crumbled in a past life from the gaze of his eyes. He stood taller than I was and his physique was lean but looked like he worked out at some point. Perhaps he stopped? Why was he so cold? The day carried on with his silence. He watched us. He sighed under his breath with dad’s failed jokes and sipped on more coffee while picking around the food. He would eat half and seemed to get lost in his thoughts. A place no one else could reach.

The library had more journals. Perhaps I picked up the last of it. The man in the book was vague and spoke of protective spells, defense against spirits and darkness. It was strange to think it was fiction or perhaps this man had gone insane on his own. Was the same thing happening to me in this place?

“What are reading?”

I sucked in a breath. The voice was so strange and deep with some kind of pain that I could barely reply. He stood at the doorway. Arms crossed and his footsteps were slow coming to me. I felt my heart quicken as he went to take the journal from me and there was a jolt. He shot a look of shock. It was the first emotion I had seen in him all day. He relaxed and took the book again. “I’m not going to hurt you.” He opened the journal and began to read curiously. I took another journal and started reading. He never said a word. So I didn’t either. We sat in the library til the sun came up. I felt myself drifting and I finally fell asleep. I woke up with a blanket. He was drinking coffee and looking at another journal. He took one good look at me and he wanted to say something. But he refused and continued reading. A few days would go by. I learned the names of different spells out of curiosity. The man in the journals had a wife that left him after having their son cause his “crazy delusions”. He claimed to want to protect his family and that the darkness spreading was too evil. The sadness could of caused his madness to worsen over time. And we were reading the aftermath of it all.

I would catch glimpses of him reading and whenever he spoke to my parents. It was nice to see them together as they treated him as their own. They mentioned he didn’t have family or anyone else around. To be nice since they’ve been working with him for a while to figure out a phenomenon happening in town. At times he would glance at me and even though I smiled he would look away. I never felt as though I liked anyone but something about this man and stoic personality. I couldn’t pinpoint it. I wanted to know more about him and his past. His interests and yet here I was gazing at him at a lost with words. A part of me couldn’t resist and I finally balled up the courage to ask.

“What happened to you…?”

The question was so sudden. He blinked a couple of times and I could see his body tense. It had been over a week of us studying the journals and barely saying a word to each other. He sighed and said “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you…don’t ask me that again”

I bit my lip as I hung my head in defeat and decided to get a snack out of frustration. I sat in the recliner and sighed. How could I like someone who barely speaks or acknowledges my existence? He’d probably think I was crazy anyway.

Tap…tap…tap.

That sound….

Tap…Tap…TAP

I froze. Was it behind me? I slowly turned to the window. A pale hand. Through the sheer curtains. I could see it. A face was coming up. My throat went dry. I felt a pull. A silence around me. As I started walking towards the window. My heart felt as though it could burst with fear. It had no eyes. An emptiness. Why was I walking towards it? The shriek slowly building in my head. I wanted to run. Everything was telling me to run. Why can’t I run?

Dream Journal, Stories

Dream Stories: Haunted Cabin Part 1

Everlasting Sirua

I’m starting a short story series inspired by dreams I have had in the past. A lot of it consist of assumptions of the way the dreams were carried. Stories are vague since there’s no true beginning or end. Some characters have no name and barely any dialogue. Also some of these stories are meant for an older audience since sexual situations are depicted. I’ll rate them as I go. I’m in no way a professional writer at all. I only do this for fun to vent the world of my dreams. Here’s a sample. Let me know what y’all think. Thank you! Hope you enjoy.

The cabin was old, dreary and in the middle of no where. It looked sturdy and seemed older than what my parents had mentioned. They were old fashioned, the decor were antiques and the fireplace cracking in the background gave it an eerie aura. We were here for “business” something they’ve been keeping to themselves for a while. The college break was much welcomed. I didn’t care much about socializing or going out. I rather be left alone although my parents thought by now I would of brought a man home. I didn’t care much about the comments and wanted to read through the old books I found in the beautiful library I found within. My father told me to not get lost in the books since they were old and contained fictional stories. Stories that couldn’t be recalled by anyone although there were pictures of what looked to be real people. Talks of magic, witches, death, monsters, ghost, spirits and weird happenings. I eventually found a journal. An ancestor who stayed in the cabin to research the happenings surrounding the area. I sank into the recliner and read. As the weeks progressed in the journal. The tone began to change. It went from curiosity and mystery to anxiety and paranoia. The words written felt rushed and pretty soon look erratic. Deep with fear. They spoke of a haunting. Seeing things that didn’t make sense. To never go out in the woods at night. Watch for the people, the ones with the pale faces. The journal goes blank. A slight splatter of what looked to be…blood?

BANG!

The window sound startled me. The wind was blowing outside. I slowly approached the window. I searched and was met with the darkness of the night. I squinted and I felt the hairs in the back of my neck stand up as I saw a figure. Could there be something out there? No. It’s fiction like dad said. There’s no way. It slowly turned around. My breath caught. I wanted to yell. Scream. Anything. It was so pale and it’s face was blank. It smiled at me. I felt As though I lost my voice. I backed up and trip over the foot rest.

Tap…Tap…TAP

I looked up and there it was. Finger tapping the window. It eyes dark with no soul. It’s skin pale. Staring down at me. Was this a ghost? It looked up and let out a scream. At first I couldn’t hear anything. Then it hit me. The shrilling. It felt like it was coming from inside my head. My head pounding. As if my brain wanted to leave my head. My ears felt full. The sound so shrill and painful. I felt the world around me go silent and my body couldn’t take anymore as I felt myself fall. I couldn’t stay awake. I don’t want to die…I sank into darkness and nothing…

Tap…Tap…Tap

First part and any feedback is welcomed! There’s probably some errors. These are more like drafts if anything. I will try to release this once or twice a week on Wednesday as a weird dreams Wednesdays. And perhaps Fridays. Thank you for all the support!

Dream Journal, Life

Spiritual Dreaming

Everlasting Sirua

Ever since I was young. I’ve been dreaming (literally) almost my whole life as far as I can remember. Anywhere between random, happy, or nightmares. I’m not sure when the nightmares began. I was probably about five which is normal for any child to have night terrors. You eventually think it’ll be something you grow out of. You start to even avoid horror movies or creepy stories. Just to see if you can avoid having nightmares. Unfortunately, I never grew out of it. I wonder if it’s my overactive imagination or my emotions have a way of showing itself to me in the most horrible ways. It went to the point that while dreaming, I developed (well my brain somewhere did this) some sort of way to protect itself during these times of horrors or protect myself from “real” life. It’s almost as if another part of myself talks and interacts with me when I need it the most.

Another thing I’ve noticed. Not sure if it this applies to my obsession with orcas when I was younger but when I was young. I would always dream about an orca when I was scared or struggling through life. If I was near a body of water in my dream. I would see either it’s tail or dorsal fin. I could see it has some sort of tribal “tattoos” while passing through. If I dreamt I was in the water. There was nothing. Just me in the water and slowly from the corner of my eye it would appear and pass by me. The dream is quiet as if all of sudden I’m deaf and nothing else matters but the connection between me and this orca. The tribal “tattoos” are a deep red from what I can remember. As an adult now, where I don’t watch anything that has to do with orcas. It almost feels like something I default to when I’m dreaming and going through a hard time in life. It’s either the orca or someone speaking to me in my dreams. The brain works in mysterious way I suppose.

Anyone else have vivid dreams? Dreamt of things before they happened? There’s so many other dreams I would like to share with y’all from my dream journal. Much love and take care!