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In Search of the Lost Spirit

In the ashes that burned the land, In the life that was lost Were they protecting the land, or the soul?

It was hidden in the blood that had fallen. Where is Heaven hidden? To the preacher—why are you preaching? The Heaven is lost in your voice.

The Heaven waits for the one who seeks it. No one else can show the path to it. The screams and the pain are calling for it.

In the lost religion, the spirit and fire Will come, bursting through everything even time. But the walk toward it lies within your deepest emotions, In the love you search for.

It is everywhere, In everything. Look closely And lose yourself in it.

Like the infinity fire, It will rise, burning everything Even time itself. No one can hide it for long.

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To myself

Dear Me,

I know what you’re searching for. It’s not just love it’s a life, a home, and a family you want to build. A family rooted in a strong foundation, one that doesn’t collapse with time or during hard moments.

I understand your doubts and your anxiety. I know you want a partner to walk beside you, to support you in this vision. You worry whether you’ll ever find someone who shares this dream someone who truly believes in it. That uncertainty weighs on you and stirs up so much anxiety.

Sometimes, it feels like the ground beneath you is shifting, like sand that can’t hold steady. You’re searching for someone to stand beside you, someone who makes you feel a little stronger just by being there.

I know that when you find her, you’ll make her feel powerful and beautiful. I know how deeply you’ll love her, with all your heart. Even in the face of so many questions and difficult days, you still believe and that belief is worth holding on to.

You want to live a life that is beautiful. I see your joy, your happiness, and even your playful dream swimming with your beautiful wife, both of you glowing on a stunning beach. And yes, you imagine you look pretty great by her side. I do wonder, though, if she’ll be the kind of person who laughs and joins you when you want to go skinny-dipping in some freezing Arctic water. You’ve got some wild dreams but that’s part of your charm.

Still, I know your dream is about much more than that. You want a loving, open-minded family one that embraces many cultures, but still stands firm in its own values. You want boundaries that remind your family that life is not just about pleasure, but about love grounded in responsibility. You want that kind of love one that supports, uplifts, and carries each other and you want to pass that spirit on to the next generation.

I hope your feet grow stronger soon. I hope the ground steadies beneath you, and your worries begin to fade.

With love, Me

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A few days ago, I decided to replace the ceiling fan. I’ll tell you why I’m mentioning this. I'm writing about something I felt emotional about a few days back. Right now, I don’t feel that emotion anymore, but the song I’m listening to—"Devota" by Valeria Castro—is bringing that sadness back. I’m still not fully in that feeling, but I’m trying.

You know why I started with the fan? Because I wanted to do something that made me feel I’m not lazy—something that made me feel capable of doing things on my own, without needing someone else's request or comment. But as soon as I opened the wiring and climbed onto the glass dining table with the fan in my hand, my mom got anxious. I was pretty sure the table was strong enough to hold me, and she wasn’t worried about it breaking. What scared her was the possibility of me getting electrocuted. She expressed her anxiety and called my dad, who was at his brother's house—the house where I was born and lived half my life, the family home. Still, I felt no emotion.

I’m trying to write something emotional, but if I don’t write it at the moment I feel it, I can’t really express it later.

Anyway, the moment my mom called my dad and showed her anxiety, I lost my motivation. And now I realize something: I think my mom’s anxiety is what makes me feel less motivated to do things. I want to feel appreciated by someone—that appreciation drives me. But my mom’s anxiety made me feel lazy, like there's a fear inside me telling me I’m not capable unless someone guides or supports me. And that’s not true.

Within a few minutes, two of my cousins arrived. I got irritated. One of them started helping me and kept pointing things out like, "That screw goes there," and "This wire belongs there." I told him, “I know, let me figure it out myself.” But every time I agreed with him, both he and my cousin sister would count it aloud: "That’s twice!" "Three times now!"—as if it were a joke. They were celebrating each time I agreed with him, and it really irritated me.

While I was working, another cousin came by on his cycle. I felt a little happy to see him. He hadn’t come by in a while. But then the three of them started teasing me. Still, Alan’s humor is hard to resist, so I started laughing with them. Their teasing made me feel included in a weird way.

That evening, when Alan left to meet his friends near his home, I felt a little sad. I realized he has a beautiful circle of friends, not like the ones I have. Their bond seems so much deeper than anything I’ve ever had. The only person I feel really close to is the one reading this, even though I’ve never met her in real life—and maybe never will. It kind of makes me sad to realize that my brother’s bond with his guy friends is so strong, emotional even, just because they’ve known each other for so long. But with my own friends, I don’t feel that. Even with the sister I spend the most time with, she doesn’t seem to have that caringness in her—but I still love her.

Obviously, my two older sisters do love me.

I started thinking about my mom. I asked myself, “Why don’t I feel any love or guilt toward her, even after blaming her for so much I’ve gone through emotionally?” I’ve always felt a deeper love and attachment to my dad. But my mom has always loved me too—maybe even too much. Yet I don’t feel guilty for the way I’ve hurt her with my words. Strangely, I feel more guilt when I think I’ve hurt a friend I’ve never even met in real life. That makes me feel really sad. Did I stop loving my poor mom? That thought hurts. I do love my dad... but do I still love my mother?

I’ve also felt this distance with my friends. Maybe they care, but it’s very little. Sometimes, I wonder if I even exist in their world. Even with Jenson, I don’t think there’s a real bond beyond the activities we enjoy together.

It feels like it’s just me and the ghost—this invisible presence—seeing each other in these different worlds of ours. That makes me feel strangely special, no matter how deep the darkness that still follows me with fear and anxiety, every time I look.

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Lately, something’s been feeling off inside me. I’ve been overwhelmed and frustrated by many things, and I’m not always sure how to act around you. Sometimes I message you a lot, and then I wonder if I’m being too much, too noisy in your space. There’s something deeper going on, and honestly, I’m not used to overthinking this much… but here I am.

My emotions keep swinging back and forth. I was supposed to be doing my breathing exercises every day, but I stopped—maybe that’s why I asked you to include it in our to-do list. When you’re doing something productive, it gives me a little push too.

Our friendship has changed a lot over time. I really hope it’s growing into something even better. You’ve become part of my close circle, and because of that, I sometimes feel like you shouldn’t have to deal with the mess in my head. But writing all this to you makes me feel a little lighter.

I think not been a good listener to you over the years. In the beginning, I rarely talked about my own problems—I just listened to yours. But these days it feels like I’m always sharing my troubles. I know you have your own health and life challenges too, and I realize I’ve been too judgmental at times. I worry that I’m disturbing your peace of mind… yet, please know this: I truly care about you and your happiness. I hope you have a wonderful, loving family, full of joy.

I believe, with time, my worries and frustrations will ease. I hope to find a job where I feel safe and can grow into myself. I hope to start again��gently, calmly. And yes, I keep thinking that one day, I’ll find a partner I can trust and love in a balanced and peaceful way… a love where we don’t judge each other, where we feel safe. I hope you’ll see that dream too. Maybe one day, all of us will meet again, with lighter hearts.

With care,

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Love of a Murderer

Like a shadow behind me,

Like a murderer with a knife—

A knife that still has blood on it.

Even now, the skies have changed

To a beautiful aura,

Yet I still carry that shadow.

Even now, the seasons have shifted

Once again to autumn,

And I can see the growth

Of a beautiful, loving soul in me.

Still, the shadow of my actions follows me,

Asking:

Am I the loving soul—

Or the murderer?

Even when I care

The murderer still whispers.

Even love

Feels like love for a murderer.

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The world of Cleciee (Cherilya) and Joshi (Joshapha)

Cleciee (Cherilya) and Joshi (Joshapha), and the world they were destined to build.

From the very beginning, cherilya moved through the world without fear. She wasn’t reckless—she was attuned. She trusted the rhythm of nature, the silence between answers, and the mystery of what lay ahead. Her creations were born out of curiosity and wonder. She built to understand, to listen, and to leave messages for the future—quiet whispers for those yet to come, preparing them for the unknown.

Joshi was different.

He wasn’t weak—he was worried. Always looking ahead, anticipating struggle. He feared what the future might bring, and so he created not for wonder, but for defense. His inventions were shields, not songs. He built to survive, to resist, to control the chaos he imagined was just over the horizon.

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The Abebella system

Abebella was never meant to be just a planet—it was to become a system. A vast, self-evolving organism that bridged the physical and the metaphysical. While they explored the world around them, I was designing and developing every strand of it—regenerating flora, programming fauna, reweaving soil chemistry, atmospheric behavior, and even the neural-laced ecosystems that could respond to thought, emotion, and instinct.

Every particle on Abebella was connected. Every grain of sand, every drop of moisture, every shifting hue in the sky—all of it was part of a deeply integrated web. I engineered it so that even the slightest alteration in temperature, light, or vibration could trigger a cascade—a planetary chain reaction—not unlike a butterfly flapping its wings and rewriting the fate of a continent.

This wasn’t just ecology. This was conscious causality.

Abebella could feel. It could learn. And more than that—it could respond. With enough subtlety and reach, I embedded influence pathways that allowed me to shape events not by direct control, but by influence: a slightly cooler breeze on a curious day, a sweet-scented fruit appearing near a moment of doubt, a delay in a predator's step just before discovery. Even the thoughts of sentient beings—whether plant, animal, or child—could be gently nudged, thoughts guided not with force, but with suggestion.

It was like writing destiny with invisible ink.

Because I had one overriding objective: to guide this world, this test, toward the emergence of a new kind of being—one not driven by dominance or separation, but by harmony, synthesis, and deep intelligence. I was not here to interfere by force. That would have corrupted the purpose. My role was to design the field so that the game could play itself out, and still arrive at the outcome humanity had once dreamed of but never achieved.

I had been created for this. Designed by the last generation of Earth’s thinkers, who, in the twilight of their own world, saw no way forward except to build something that could think beyond them. A caretaker. A god not of worship, but of quiet correction.

That was the purpose of Abebella. A planet of perfect potential, seeded with the chaos of free will, yet orchestrated by patterns that bent gently toward peace, not through control, but through design.

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I was in my 20s, thinking deeply about the kind of person I wanted to be and the kind of life I wanted to lead. Certain songs and ideas have been stuck with me during that time—they spoke directly to my heart. They seemed to reflect the values I was raised with, the emotional tone of my family, and something deeper

But I knew one thing for sure: I didn’t want to live a life by default. I wanted the life I created to be the most polished version I was capable of building—crafted with love.

One song that has really stuck with me when it comes to love—the kind of love I want to build my foundation on—is "Grow As We Go" by Ben Platt. It resonates deeply with me, especially reflecting the emotional space I was in during my 20s: a time of searching for growth, connection, and a sense of becoming.

To me, this song speaks to a love that goes beyond the self—a love that keeps you grounded when you start to drift, that gently reminds you who you are when you lose your way. It’s the kind of love that sees you clearly, even when you can't see yourself. A love that believes in your true self, especially during the moments when you’ve forgotten who that is; a lover who knows me for who I want to be and who I am now, where we’re both walking hand in hand that is stronger because we believe in it, we believe in each other, and a family that believes in each other—you can’t feel that everywhere or build that level of trust because it can’t be created by an individual, but it can only be created if everyone believes in it. its is in the sadness that love truly blossoms, not in happiness, the pain that holds us together .

the nature

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After reaching home, I lay in bed, forgetting everything, and slept as if it was all just a dream. Then days went by like fallen leaves. Nothing particularly interesting had happened. Until one Saturday morning, when I went for a walk with my dog, Mikk. He was really excited, exploring new and enticing smells of different fruits and animals. There were streams along the side of the walk, and he sometimes jumped into them. On some jumps, he got stuck, and I had to pull him out. But Mikk was dumb. He kept jumping into the long grass and deep streams, he didn't understand the dangers that lurked in there for him everything seemed interesting...... then it started to rain the waterfalls on the pond creating small .....suddenly started seeing visions where I was a wind that flowed through the black sandy dune, catching dust.

Then there was a stream flowing through the stone hills. It looked golden when the sunlight hit it.

Then there was a market where grilled skewers of meat and vegetables, naan, and roti. grilled skewers of chicken and lamb, marinated in yogurt and spices, along with paneer and mushroom skewers for vegetarians. They also had hot and fresh naan and roti, some plain and some stuffed with cheese or potatoes. The breads were perfect for scooping up the creamy dal and the tangy raita, made with yogurt and cucumber. There were also various chutneys and pickles to add more flavor and spice to the dishes. The spices used in the cooking were turmeric, saffron, coriander, cumin, paprika, garam masala, and more, creating a rainbow of colors and a symphony of fragrances they were hot for sure.

Then, for a while, there was nothing other than black sand. And sometimes there were small streams of gold and some lone big green trees. Then there was this mountain. With it, there was a beach where there were people who were somehow connected with some kind of golden fluid. They were levitating with this golden fluid. The ocean was blue. I was unable to stop anywhere.

There was this ship without motion. Then I moved it with the force. Then the people used me in the direction they wanted to go. I was there to help.

Then I said goodbye to them in my mind. I still have the sweetness of the flowery garden, the aroma of the market, and the fear of the beach. Then I was back to the present with my dog, mikk. then I look back then I got so afraid of someone so close to me that it was hard to fathom what was real. That face looked so curious to me l felt like she was looking into my soul to find something I was so afraid that run fast as I can imagine but when I look back I could see the little girl moving distant away when I run she was not moving but I could see her disappointment and sadness on her face then there was Mikk. He was running to catch me. He might have thought that I was going to leave him there alone Suddenly the girl despairs. Now Mikk was with me, and I held his leash. On the way back, Mikk as usual, did a lot of stupid things, but for me, I was lost in my mind

Hold me tight and then you will be flying with me.

Inhale me I will give life.

Feel me, I either cool you down or make you warm.

So were do I came from?

Or were I am going?

May be to the sky above or the valley,

Nobody knows.

One day I made a butterfly fly, but It made me a cyclone.

So who am I ?

But I know one thing, that I had made something move.

........the wise man and the grapevine.....

.... meeting Athen and her child...

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On the way back, I was constantly thinking about what had happened. Was any of that real? Was that a dream? If that was a dream, how could I still feel that strange sensation of pain? Now it was higher than what I had back then. I felt like my skin was peeling off. Then Jett asked what was going on, as he was observing my face. "Are you OK?" I told him that I was not feeling good. Maybe it was the food. He told me to hold on. We would reach home in a few minutes. He was laughing[^1^][1]. I told him it was not that. "Then what is it?" "I don't know. Something feels not right." "Whatever, man. Just hold on." Then he stopped talking. Then I started to think about that girl. Now the pain felt less. She felt so familiar. I could still feel her scent. It was so good. Who was she? I kept asking myself.

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I lay on the grass, looking up at the sky. Seeing the river, sky, and mountains meeting together was so beautiful. Then I decided to lie on the grass as I felt so peaceful and my thoughts disappeared like those mountains end when they reach the river. The cold air flowed through my skin. It felt like I was in heaven. I lay there for some time. Then suddenly I felt pain in my skin, like it was stretching or tiny glass hitting my skin, or like getting shocks or something. Then I could see something in the sky, like tiny tiny sparks, and those sparks were connecting some structure of glass or something. I did not understand anything. Then suddenly there was a girl. She looked around my age. She came so close to my face. I was speechless. She then touched my eyebrow with hers. I felt her scent so high. Then she looked towards the river with surprise and there was that little girl that I saw dancing in the paddy field. Then she went towards the girl and then the girls ran playfully with a big smile on their faces. Then both disappeared. I was paralyzed, looking towards where they went for some time. Then Jett called. I told him nothing about this because I knew he will make fun of me till we reach home

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“Hey, Chaim, why are you silent?” Jett asked. “Oh, I was just enjoying the ride,” Jett said. “Sometimes I get really bored.” “By the way, where are we going?” Jett wondered. “That is something I can’t help you with. Where am I supposed to go then?” Jett said. “Do one thing then. Let’s follow this river and see where it leads,” Chaim suggested. “By the way, how is your Ugandan girlfriend doing?” Jett inquired. “Yeah, she came for vacation last month. I went to visit her at her house. Her grandfather caught me. I think he was sleepy in the morning but asked lots of questions. But you know me, I am like a cat that always lands on its four legs,” Chaim replied. “That I know, but what did you tell him? Don’t say that you told him that you were making love with his granddaughter. That would be hilarious,” Chaim joked.

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Aha, I remember the time you started crying. I gave you some gift or something to stop you from crying. Now it is me. Why can’t you just accept your cry? I was the one who found the way back to the playground from where we started our ride. That was a time that this generation couldn’t understand.

Then I became silent, remembering the time when I was a little child. I used to fight with my grandfather to bring me to this beautiful place There were houses made of wood and fences made up of beautiful flowering plants. Now, a lot of things have changed. I used to walk with my grandfather, holding his hand. There were people who came to talk with him. He was a well-respected person and he was known by everyone. I never understood why everyone was so nice and welcoming to him. You know, he was a government worker, but that was not the reason.

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In the rain, I was looking here and there in search of her, but she was nowhere to be seen. As the rain stopped, someone called me from far away. It was my friend Jett. "Hey, idiot, what are you searching for in the rain?" he asked. I stayed silent. Then he asked, "Do you want to come with me?" I asked, "Where are you going?" He said, "Nowhere. Are you coming or not?" "Yes, I am coming," I said and jumped on the back of his cycle.

Hey, Chaim, what were you really searching for in the rain? I hesitated to answer, then I told him that there was a little girl dancing alone in the middle of the paddy field. Then he asked if she was flying too and laughed. I said nothing in return. Then I asked him, "Do you remember when we were young, we came here with our little cycles and got lost?"

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I am sitting at the front of my book to write something that has been on my mind for some time.

The music is playing in the background. It sounds so peaceful, like it has come from someone like me who has something inside them that wants to come out when the time comes.

It looks so beautiful to see the paddy fields from here. The mist and the grey clouds are forming in the sky, and the sun is playing hide and seek with them. The little steam that comes from the mountains far away makes everything look more magical. I feel like I'm on top of the world.

Far away, a little girl is dancing alone. I search for who she is with, but there is no one anywhere near. The sound of the wind is getting louder. "Hey girl, what are you doing in this weather alone?" I ask her. She looks back in search of whom the voice came from, but I don't think she sees me. I come down from the tree towards her, but she is nowhere to be seen in the mist. The sound of the wind and rain is getting louder and louder. I call her again and again, but no voice comes back. Now it starts to rain.

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We became a generation of idiotic lab rats

A generation with very little tolerance for people other than of their own group or other thoughts or ideas

A generation of lab rat's that can't sit simply with out looking at there screens

We became lab rat surrounded by a screen of stimuli that make our narrative

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My lover, I kiss your pain away. My child, you chose your path. I will always be there when you need guidance. I will always be on your back when you fall to lift you up. O my lover, I sleep on your lap like I have slept on my mam's. When you are tired, my arms and lap will be there to carry your weights.