TIA PRICE TAROT

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The other stories...

Posted by Tia Price on August 5, 2012 at 3:50 AM Comments comments (0)

This is something i have channelled, prompted to write, from who and what im not so sure, but it came and was whispered into my ear:

'A one sided story.

One where you are drawn in and long to hear the details, all from the perpective of just one person.

The laughter and tears and all the virtuous merriment, not necessarily truth.

Just bias.

Subjective...

All from one mouth and one brain, a set of synapses connecting and buzzing in response to stimuli.

Its just one perspective.

But if you saw it from the other side.

Listened to the other tale(s) that ran concurrently, the parallel world(s), how would you feel?

What judgements would you make then?

How would you read it?

What of the subtext, the yarn beneath?

The best story tellers take into account the variables, the opinions of the minor characters, the lesser protagonist.

See the whole scope and read not from one but the many others who are involved in a situation and then you have a different tale. You see it from a higher perspective and can make your mind up based on a wider meatier store of information.

There are always many more stories that leap alongside that of the main character, but which one do you listen to and which one is the truth?

The truth is the platform on which any story sits, and the reactions of those involved are the colour and texture.

One person will not give all the facts, they will sugar coat and stain with their own past story of memory to make this one perspective on a set of circumstances. They paint themself as heroine, or victim, major or minor.

They will varnish it with their own neurosis.

And in the retelling it will be coated in another and then another perspective, layers upon layers of different histories and stories sorting and storing and assesing how they feel and would respond.

Chinese whispers.

Read the whole book, listen to all the characters, but remember to see the truth.'

Automatic.

Posted by Tia Price on August 2, 2012 at 12:45 AM Comments comments (0)

I realise you want me to talk to you,

Interruption as my hands type the words that whoosh into my mind and my fingers type without effort of will:

..' i realise quite how much pressure my presence puts on you in your day to day life and how difficult it must be to juggle your feelings.

And you are juggling your feelings you know.

I know you love us differently, i know you love him, i know i know i know. But still, i only ask one thing Tia.

I only ask one thing really.

Its disorientating, i know.

But i want you to see him, for me, please.

It makes me sad because you dont realise how terribly sad he is, and yes, i do miss him, so much.

Hes my dad and i didnt have anyone else and without me he doesnt have much else either, even if he pretends so.Even if i was a dick to him most of my life ungrateful and unkind and all else, thats why i want to make it up to him, i miss him. My dad.

You dont understand because you have both of your oarents, can see them everyday, can pick up the phone and tell them how much you appreciate them and how much you love them, resistance or not you can, i can't.

My hand goes straight through the reciever. I can only go there and see him and its so fucking sad.

Its so sad.

He, is so sad.

You don't listen, you dont want to, dont want to be reminded of me and us and all that, i get it i understand. Its hard for you.

But, its harder for me and you have to grasp that if you can grasp nothing else. If i go through that tunnel then i leave behind not only you but him, my dad, the only relative i had. The only person who really loved me and showed it. The man who blames himself for my stupid mistakes and stupid pointless death.

You saw how upset he was, you felt how much its still inside him, you can feel that, you know that and you run away and i understand why but he needs someone and perhaps you would be perfect to help him.

Please go see him, please because he likes you and like with everyone else, you find conversations effortless and people feel so happy around you and you light him up and then he seems happy even if only for a blink, a little tiny moment and i feel better because i know someone made him smile for a bit when not much else does.

Nothing does. He barely laughs. He barely leaves the house. You know this but you want to fight it and you want to argue it, but please just do it for me,

Please...Please?

You said you would? Please...'

Maybe.

 

The Green light.

Posted by Tia Price on July 26, 2012 at 7:45 AM Comments comments (0)

In the inky blackness that surrounds it, i see a beautiful green whirling thing before me.

All around me all i can see, sense and feel is this impenetrable darkness that seems suffocating, like a too hot day when all you want to do is take off your clothes and lay in the dark.

I do not want to lay in this dark.

I do not want to stay here with this dark around me that seem somehow to be touching me, as though it has a consciousness, an intent, a motive.

It seems to want to do me harm and all i want to say is 'get off'.

But, there, before me, in the dark that has a soul of sorts, is that green whirling light.

Its so beautiful and it seems to emit a perfume, a glorious scent that entices a memory, maybe two, it calls me. It says 'come, and enjoy'.

It evokes a need in me, something wanton, something primal, something i just 'have, to have'.. I need to be near that light.

As i look about me and see that shifting nothingness of dark, around me, its spacious yet claustrophobic and the dark seems to begrudgingly aquiece to my urge, so i move forward, quietly.

There are no footfalls, only a stealthy movement, a purpose of will, a desire, a quencher.

3 feet down from where i watch i see the light.

The light glows and grows like a swirling green vortex of many butterfly wings drawn together, linked in a spiral of never ending whirls and turns and there i sense myself before i was here. There i sense a closeness i never felt before and its so beautiful and reviving and refreshing and for a minute a scene sets before me and i am in a beautiful place a memory of a time where i felt.

With this green light there is growth, there is life, there is more than the darkness that surrounds me and i 'have' something. I have a purpose, theres a reason to be here, there is a reason to continue existing.

The whirling green wings that shine and glow, they sense something, they sense me.

Another light joins of equal intensity and luminescent brightness. Suddenly like flares, like fireworks im in a multicoloured display and all these wheels of gold and rose and pink and mauve and orange are lighting up and dancing before my eyes, all different wings glittering and whirling like fairies in a choreographed dance.

I hear a sound, its laughter, shocked, wonderful laughter and its coming from my own throat.

I'm laughing.

Surprised at myself, surprised by these concentric wheels and spirals and im laughing. It feels good to feel my neck, and my larynx and my oesophagus move and that gurgling bubbling chuckling.

The lights, they are responding to me, they are reacting, they are beautiful, so beautiful and they emit this glorious scent of all the best smells of musk and woodland and sweets and love.

I feel safe, i feel safe and so i sit.

Even though i know all around me is dark and suffocating because i cant seem to do anything about that, i cant seem to change this, the lights give me something.

They give me a focus, they give me a home, they give me laughter.

So i stay, and i watch and i wait.

And i love.

Hook in the Centre.

Posted by Tia Price on May 20, 2012 at 12:25 AM Comments comments (0)

Hook me in.

Thats what you do.

Uttering sentences and things i love to hear.

But its not use.

Its pointless.

Its dead end

There is no more

no us

no we

just me

Alone in Holy smoke and i dont want to go there

dont want to be apart

dont want to, crow barred

out

taken away from you

torn

murdered

outage.

Stolen from the one i love too late

too little

too small

too gone

gone

gone,

Taken from me

He has you now and i have nothing

nothing but the flimsy air i walk on the orbs and the lights and the endless reaches of nothing at all.

And there you sit

a tap tap tapping

and i ignore you dont i?

And my stomach is tight

and i dont feel right.

just a little to the left

left out

left of the murder

left of nothing and i have nothing and i am nothing.

He took you away from me, he took you away and all i have is to distract you with words you dont want to hear

images you dont want to see

and not because you dont want to

no, not because of that

because you wont,

because you refuse.

Because you must.

Hooked, at the heart, in the centre, where i enter,

where you are so open, so lovely so light,

so warm and spacy.

And there i sit, in the centre,

in the hole, the little space,

the only place that has ever been my home.

Alone.

 

 

'You be your own Sunshine'.

Posted by Tia Price on May 4, 2012 at 5:45 AM Comments comments (0)

Bertha.

Just now, whilst pondering what to do next in my day, as ive been 'a-blogging' sorting arrangements for readings, buying things on ebay and generally doing just what i like.

I had a suden sense of funk in the air.

So i looked at my Photo gallery idoly, and spotted 'Bertha' my otherside singing coach who really wants me to go back to Karaoke, and i do too. I miss throwing my voice out there like Eddie Vedder (i kid you not, i do a pretty good impression...) im better when i blast my voice!

Anyhow, whilst thinking on the recent vague altercation, and looking at her photo i got a sense of her lovely lively energy.

She said, so clearly 'Hi Honey. You just keep carrying on the way you goin' and you dont let noone bring you down. You're on the right path and you doin' so well darlin'. You be your own sunshine.'

I shivered all over and i just smile, because thats Bertha through and through.

So supportive, so bright, so bubbley but also 'not someone you gonna mess with..' A strong, beautiful soulful matriarch waiting in the wings giving me support.

'You get yo' ass to that karaoke- Belt it out- and i be singing wit you'.

Thank you Bertha.

Two Souls.

Posted by Tia Price on April 5, 2012 at 5:10 AM Comments comments (0)

When Two souls join on a level that combines, fuses and connects. No substance, above or below can tear it assunder.

When two souls, sparkling, creative and beautiful; twin souls. Twin flames of mutual substance made out of the same material join at the core, nothing,

No man

No God can wrent or pull it apart.

They become one and exchange at a vibration that is higher, is holy.

Is love.

When these souls return to reality, the lower regions where mortals dwell, they are changed irrevocably by that love. That fusion is there, undeniable.

The string, or cord or chain stronger than any earthy material binds them and no outside force can tear or undo it.

They will always seek each other, they will need each other to be 'clean', to remain 'higher', to remain in love(ed).

Nothing can cut that cord, nothing can undo the good that has been done the fusion that has been.

But the road is rocky, the path is hard and one has to stay truthful and faithful to knowing 'this' is the ultimate truth.

There can be no doubt only love.

Let Judgement dissipate, transmute all falsehoods and illusory notions of separateness and know: 'All is well, all is as it should be.'

Love is all there is and Love purifies and cures everything. Believe, pursue, know it.

Be you.

Be Light.

Be love.

Be strong and accept the truth of your union.

Be now. Be present.

Forgive and let go and accept that all the good you strive for will be yours.

 

By Your Side.

Posted by Tia Price on March 8, 2012 at 2:50 PM Comments comments (0)

 

No matter where I find you, no matter the fog, the rage the devastation around you sobbing screaming in a swamp. By your side, there i'll be. Hand out, heart open, lips parted and all waiting for you to see me. To take my hand, connect with my heart, press your lips to mine and stand with me.

If you want to sit here, surrounded by marsh and mess. Then sit here we shall.

If you want to run forever never stopping for breath or pausing for thought with you I will run.

And if you want to float In the sea of coursing emotions that bloat and swell all about then bobbing by you here ill stay.

No matter the words you say, the thoughts you think or the deeds you do. I'll be here, patient accepting and loving you all the while.

I'll take the blows and i'll walk through the fire and i'll sink in the mud right here with you. As long as you want me, i'll be by your side.

My love for you is a martyr and a champion triumphant against all woe.

It is never ending. It makes the apple blossoms bloom. It excites the fireflies to light our way, through the darkness you conjure up.

I see your faults, I see what others may have crossed in red pen and discarded you for. They aren't faults, they're part of you and they're just as wonderful as your other more benevolent qualities. Theres no need for acceptance, because they make me love you more.

I've never felt that.

Channelled and modified automatic writing.

Posted by Tia Price on February 6, 2012 at 4:15 PM Comments comments (0)

Waves of red lap at the side of my face. Not fire, not heat, but red felt that has been cut to fit, it looks like fire. Smells like fire. But it isnt. Then the panic ensues and i realise what ive done. I realise im in a square wooden box. My own coffin and it isnt one i bought or put together myself. Its one i found. Found at the bottom of my garden and i can smell the petrol. But surely if i were dying now i would feel the heat of the flame i would feel the bubbling and burning of flesh. Would feel it. Hear it, the zinging popping sound as my body became a candle. But i dont feel my body anymore. I dont feel anything, anymore. Just the whistling noises as time passes by and the concept is lost on me.

I cant remember and i cant forget.

Im lost arent i? This is the neteherworld isnt it? The place i heard of, read of and knew of but didnt believe. This is where i am isnt it? Can you help me? Because i cant stop hearing my own voice screaming if i think for a minute what i was doing yesterday. Shirt off, sun out resolution in place, why did i do that? Can you answer?

As the lock was too tight. The shed too cluttered, my mind in dissarray. Can you help me? Theres no light but its not dark...where am i? Im confused and i dont understand.G et me out of here. The smoke is choking.

Thats what killed me, not the melting or the burning.The smoke, the acrid burning caustic choke that took my last breath.

I took my last breath with this terrible choice. Why did i do it?

The noise of sirens. They're not even bothering to try, theres no point. How could that charred carcass that looks like a skinned dog be me? Its not me. Im me this disembodied voice. This dissillusionned soul. So help me? Oh why wont you help me. They dragged me out, lay me on the grass no sheet, no fbi crime scene. No respect. Why should i care thats not my house anymore.

Is the cliche true, will i see a bright light? Then where is it? Because this darkness is surely not what i was told. This darkness is suffocating and all thats left is the smell of the smoke, the closing in on my mind.

Im a suicide. A lost one. Destined to replay the event, but i dont feel it. I just sense it all around me.

Ogh wont you please help me.

Butterflies.

Posted by Tia Price on February 6, 2012 at 4:05 PM Comments comments (0)

I would have given you butterflies and flowers. I would have taught you things and i would have sung to you. I would, as i do now, have given you all the love and support i could find from anywhere within me to keep you safe. I would send you butterflies and wishes and fairies and angels across the divide if you want them. I will send them and ill send you all my love every minute because i wanted you.

My boys are there and my girl and you're waiting, you're playing and learning and doing everything you need to grow. And i wish i could know you, in flesh. I wish i hadn't chosen as i did, just once out of the three. The first time, i wasn't ready and the second time, maybe not ready either. But the third time, i wanted to be a mummy, a mom, a mama. I wanted to be your mother and unlike those other two times, i felt like the mother id set myself up to be after you were gone baby. I still do. I havent fully recovered whatever was lost then, and i dont know if i can, but ive managed so far, and it aches a little less now.

The difference was, the other two times, i made no moves to make room for you in my life, those other two times dont count as much because the decisions were almost instant and they felt right. The first was concieved on shrooms, the second during my terrible alopecia, but the third, my little third baby i bought things for you. I got ready for you, i prepared i thought i planned i visualised, and i could see you so clearly, i named you and i knew you were a little boy. I spoke to you, i cradled my tummy, i thought of you and i loved you already and i imagined us doing what every other mother and son do. I saw us as a family, i saw mummy daddy and baby and i liked it, it felt right and as it should be. The decision felt wrong, it felt rushed and panicked and not right. It didn't sit right and it didnt make me feel in anyway assuaged. In fact it lead into a terrible spiral for a psychic who refused to feel her grief and thus got buried under everyone elses.

The thing is i saw you in my reading for another on my birthday. I knew you were growing like a little bean inside me, i saw me screaming as you gushed out of me and scooped and dumped wherever they put you. I saw the savage choice id have to make and i saw my most probable decision and i saw the blackened road i had constructed for myself to get through. On this occaision i refused to acknowledge any of it and like the fool in my beloved cards, ignored the warning but followed fear not my heart, a decision i am still sure i would undo. And this time it was not a learning lesson like the others, this was not something i 'had' to do, this was a 'choice' and the distinction is quite significant.

I will send you butterflies from my heart, everyday, i will send you love and rainbows and childish stories and i will see you in fields playing games with each other. I will swim across the divide and hold you and love you and hope you grow to love me back and not hate me for not giving us the chance. You have to know i wanted you, but a quagmire ensued and i didnt know what to do and i took one road, which has lead me to better things, more understanding and a deeper bond with your dad, and i look forward to the day you can swim this way and we can talk and play and sing together.

Until then ill send you butterflies.


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