I’m sitting here working on THE BLACK TRIANGLE — and it’s a tough go. The relationships between the characters are heartfelt – and I can feel their emotions as I type. I can feel the struggle, Jeta, the main character has trying to keep her girls alive in a concentration camp while she’s falling in love with an SS officer. As a mom – I know the lengths I would go through to save my son from harm – there isn’t anything I wouldn’t do. Parents shouldn’t outlive their kids. At the same time – Jeta is a woman who craves love and has that primal urge to survive. I get that too.
As I sit here and feel their EMOTIONS – it actually forces me to examine being psychic – and what I’ve discovered thus far. I’m not bitching that I have this gift – trust me – I know that I am blessed. But at the same time I want so bad to talk to someone about what I see – what I hear — what I know and feel. I write things down – obviously – in this blog and in my journal. I try to pour things out, to empty it from my system. But it still lingers – waiting for me to have a face to face chat with any of the guys: Vincent, Will, Bill, Ted or George.
With every karmic and/or soul connection that I discover – I too then discover the feelings for the past associated with that soul. The good – the bad – it doesn’t matter, what matters is that they are all there. I keep them bottled up – because, what in the hell am I going to do with them? But I get to a breaking point — and I reached it again. The BT is an emotional story that takes all of my energy not to cry as I rewrite — so I cannot use that energy to hold back the sea of emotions and past life memories.
I really don’t have much more to say. I don’t mean to sound bitchy – I guess I’m just frustrated. All this information & emotions and no where to direct it. I’ll be able to patch it up – keep it bottled again — but I’m telling you, I know I’m a leaky dam. I have to talk to one of them soon or go up to Glacier National Park and just keep screaming until my voice is gone – and I’m too pooped to give a damn.
My soul is stil rested after this last puzzle piece with Vincent. It just really needs to talk – and have someone listen.
Thanks for letting me vent — back to work I go!