Labels

AuthorHouse

Chapter One

I spit you out.

The labels you used were of meritocracy. Labels that we use to communicate with one another. We create words in which we form our thoughts to our own truths. The sharing of these thoughts into words, then our minds translate our own perceptions. Only what is thought is said, as we all have the ability to be in touch with one another's thoughts using the electricity pulsing through the brain. The electrical magnetic field in which we use everyday to speak on cell phones or listen to the radio. These thought frequencies being just as a channel on the radio. Each station having it's own frequency as each human has their own with their thoughts.

The labels you spoke with were not what your mind truly thought. The words your used being lukewarm not defining the beliefs of your truth. You were given the word. I heard and felt your words. My own sense of ego labeling you as inane, and I laughed at your fears. You raped me with the word and I allowed it, not aligning myself to my own truths. In my intense distaste of being raped by the word and labeling, I found myself unlocking the cellular memories within myself. I found the strategic game of having no judgment on your words or thoughts intriguing. You entertained me as I entertained you. My soul celebrated the sense of having no judgment.

Checkmate.

Chapter Two

It's in your nature.

At a young age I found myself able to communicate with different spiritual beings. My awareness of things to come made me question my own reality. I began to correlate scientific fields with that of religious writings. The different religions I found really do walk hand in hand with the scientific facts as I unraveled the codes within ancient writings. I began reading less and less, as I found I was able to absorb information in the electrical magnetic fields. I accessed frequencies using osmosis. Knowledge gained by connecting with the energy of the elements of the earth. Yet in the knowledge I lacked wisdom. In my own frustration of knowing things I felt limited and unbalanced. My mind now had knowledge, yet the soul cannot feel knowledge.

In connecting to the frequencies of the dimensions of the past my soul felt the experiences lived. I actually felt what had been, incorporating the experience and knowledge. In writing of this life's everyday conversations and experience in which I believe is 'normal', others have told me is paranormal. I questioned myself wondering if it was just my imagination expanding on my experiences. It was the reflection of others that gave me affirmation of my truth.

I'll return to the past of being a bartender to set the scene of Revelation ...

"Helen, get me another one please." A quiet gentleman at the bar says getting my attention.

Turning towards the gentleman, I take his mug and refill it with beer from the tap.

"So, anything new today, J.T?"

The usual conversation takes place about the weather; J.T.'s faded blue eyes light up as he speaks of finishing two-thirds of the crossword puzzle in today's paper. A regular here at the bar, J.T.'s subtleness and formality adds a sense of refinement. He presents himself as neat and comfortable as the pressed shirt and slacks that he wears.

"Hey!" A brash voice yells. "Quit flirtin' with J.T. and bring us three shots of whiskey."

Without looking towards the owner of the voice, I take my time getting the shot glasses filled. The smell of smoke filters through the air creating the ambiance I am becoming familiar with. Turning to look at the couple coming through the door I noticed they are dressed a bit fancier than the usual crowd here. I nod towards them and smile. "Be with you folks in a minute."

"Thanks, Helen." Vinny, the quietest of the three, winks as he takes his shot.

Sam, the gravely voiced man grins as I set the other two shots down. The disheveled reddish colored beard of Sam's appears brown in the dim light of the bar. The large frame of his body clothed in jeans and a button up flannel shirt. A rip on one sleeve adds to his entire appearance as a big teddy bear that is a bit tattered. His brown eyes soften as he razzes me. "Now, Helen, you know we all have bets placed on who you are going to go out with first."

"You've been saying that for the four weeks I've been here." I place my hand on Sam's shoulder.

Sam hands me a dollar tip and kisses my hand as I receive it. He winks at me. This is his way of being friendly in a flirting manner. I thank him with my eyes and walk over to new couple now sitting at one of the back tables in the darker corner of the bar. As I approach the table I sense sadness between the two.

A tattoo of thorns decorates the lady's ankle, as if conflicting with the elegant jewelry and dress she is wearing. Her beauty radiates from within to all those who look upon her. She keeps her eyes down and their conversation fades the closer I get. The dark shade of the man's tailored suit matches his dark eyes in an almost unforgiving way, as if the suit was dyed to match his eyes. His thick long blonde silver hair pulled back neatly falls down his back like a gentle waterfall.

"Good evening, what can I bring you two?" Making eye contact with the man, I realize one of his droops slightly, with two scars underneath and one to the side of the eye. In a solemn, even-toned voice he orders a smooth whiskey and soda for the lady and water no ice for himself. Then asks. "Is there a phone I can use here? I'd be willing to put the charges on my credit card, as we don't have any change for the pay phone. My cell doesn't seem to be working."

"Darn that electrical magnetic field." I chuckle, thinking my joke is funny, only to see the man's eyebrow rise as if trying to figure out if I am serious or kidding. I clear my throat and say. "I'll get you a quarter for the pay phone, we keep a few extra at the bar."

Preparing the drinks behind the counter I nod to Justine and Melanie sitting next to J.T. Melanie turns from looking at the couple in the back, with a smirk on her face says. "He's sexy."

I shake my head and smile, thinking, 'that's so Melanie.' Always checking out the men that come and goes in the bar. Her blonde hair showing the many different shades of dyes she uses. Her clothes a size to tight for her thick frame, and when not in her work uniform then sporting t-shirts and blue jeans skirts. A friendly manner always seems to be a part of her. In the few weeks I'd been at the bar I'd seen her go home with quite a few men, just so she wouldn't be lonely. She doesn't pay attention to what people say, which is what I like about her.

"I'll get you another beer when I get back." I nod my head at Melanie and whisk the away.

"Here you folks go." I say quietly as I place them down. Taking a quarter off the tray I hand it to the man, and then ask. "Anything else I can get you?"

He pulls a credit card from his wallet and hands it to me. "Put a couple dollars on there as your tip."

"Thank you, sir." I politely speak. "The drink is only four dollars. I wouldn't feel right getting a fifty-percent tip."

Briefly glancing at the lady to see if I can make eye contact, her head doesn't move. Her eyes lock with mine, as I see a wealth of experience in her soul. The sadness I felt when I first approached their table is very present in her eyes. Her gaze leaves mine and she nods at the man. Nothing is said for a few seconds, and then I speak up. "I'll put a dollar on...