The Tale of the Sufferer

There once lived a man by the name of Zoriah who lived the life of luxury in the city of Bethlehem. He was a religious man, who followed God’s plan, but he had his doubts that grew until he was well in his middle age.  He began to doubt God and the way He ran things, because the city he lived in was in deep poverty, even though he was not. He noticed that many suffer a lot, and he took this as God wanting us to suffer. He refused to go by God’s plan, so he left his city.

Shortly after he left the city of Bethlehem he became ill. He developed Leapers, sores formed upon his flesh, and he became very weak. Soon he was lying weakly upon a bed, people praying around him, knowing he’d soon die. But death he did not get, for he refused to die.

One day, while he lied upon his sick bed with these sores eating away his flesh, a healer came by. Zoriah only traveled a few hours out of Bethlehem before this illness took over. The healer traveled to him, he was asked by the man’s family to save him.

The healer went by the name Yeshua, but many began to call him Jesus. The healer said to Zoriah, “I will heal your wounds and make you whole again, but first you must answer a question. Do you believe in the mighty GOD?”

Zoriah responded in a strict tone, “No.”

The healer nodded and began to heal the sores with just a gently touch of his hand.

Instantly Zoriah felt a tingling all over. He felt it in his forehead the most; he felt his thoughts were being tampered with. He yelled out in rage. He knew that this healer was trying to change him, make him believe in God again. But Zoriah would not stand for it.

He told the healer, “You will not mess with my mind! I will never trust in you or God!”

The healer looked at him with a calm sadness. He was not messing with Zoriah’s mind, but he would not tell Zoriah so. He will let Zoriah find the truth of God on his own.

So instead of responding with words he nodded his head. When he did speak, he spoke no response to Zoriah of God. “Your wounds are healed. You now can wander upon this Earth as you please.”

The leapers were healed away, and he began to regain his strength. Thoughts of Jesus left his mind as soon as the man left his the home he stayed in. As soon as his strength was fully regained he left the home he was in and the city to spread his words against God.

He gained many followers, but more enemies than followers. He lived year after year, one suffer after the next. He got beaten, tortured, and placed in jail many times. But still did he not die nor did he regain his faith in God.

He is now close to 100 years of age… his mind still clear, death calling his name each day but he ignored. He continued to rebel and refuse to die, he did not want to face God and His spiritual world.

So he lived… and lived… as his body died because his time was up. But God, since He gave each of us free will, did not ask the angels to bring Zoriah home.

Zoriah went through many trials and tribulations, causing rebellions against God and His work. He was thrown in jail many a times, beaten, and got leapers again; sores all over his body that would kill any man in days, but not he. He refused to die. He lived through his illness, this time with no healer to heal him. He lived with the leapers that would weaken him… then they’d pass, but they’d always come back.

So he lived another 100 years…. Still fighting against God, escaping jail when he got thrown in it, and going from city and city rebelling. One town he went to did not stand for his words. They did not agree with what he told. He again was thrown in jail after being tortured, but not the typical cell. He was thrown in a dungeon type place, a place pitch black. The door was shut and locked, never to be opened again. So there he lay. Slowly to die – but he continued to refuse to die.

So he lived… in a dying body filled with sores, a cancer now destroying his organs, no food to nourish his body, only the occasional rat that he’d eat raw while it was still alive. The only drink he had was the water that would leak through the ceiling after a rare rain.

He was in that dungeon for 100 years… he now can no longer move, his skin is leathery. He has no meat upon his bones; he was only a skeleton with a leather layer of skin

On his 300^th year his time did come. The door opened, hurting his blind eyes that have not seen the sun for over 100 years. He would have yelled out in pain if he had a voice to. A figure came toward him; a figure of white light, a tall being that was all a glow.  He looked up at this figure and immediately knew what it meant.

The figure spoke, “it is time to come home now. Your time is up.” With those words the man did not object. In those few moments he learned the meaning of his life.  Why he was on this planet, and why God wanted him here and kept him a live all these years… it was out of free will. He had free will, the will he fought to keep, all a long. God let him live to learn the lessons he needed to learn. Through suffering he did find the path to God.

He let the angel guide him home. His soul left the dead body.

The door remained open, in came a girl and boy. They found the skeleton; the body became a skeleton almost instantly. The skin began to deteriorate away rapidly; the hot sun burnt it away. So what these children saw was only a skeleton, a skeleton of a man who lived 300 years. They had no idea that the man only recently left his body… They came here in search for this very body, the story of Zoriah is still told in their town of Bethlehem. They did not know that this body was the body of Zoriah since it is just a skeleton. They left the cellar still full of wonder.

Thousands of years ago people once did live as long as this man, some even longer. Many of them were wanderers, finding their way to self realization in the depths of nature; Gypsy is only one word to call such wanderers.

(photo is of a bog body I found online - posted for a visual image only)

A Little About Me

I’ll introduce a little about myself here and what I know, well, received by my guides. I began my spiritual journey in 2007, though I have really been on it my whole life. I see what I call “images” because I do not know the correct word to call them, if there is even a correct word for them.

I have learned, through reading about the unconscious and meditation, and also by talking to a close friend (who I met online), that these (some I wont say all) images are of my different personalities from my past and my future. They are what make up who I am. Many do not see these images, I guess many would call them “archetypes” that seems to be the common word for them (I think). I use to see them frequently, but once I began meditating they came about less. I mainly see now are twin boys, and a ballerina – symbols of my past, present, and future… I will speak more of the twins and ballerina later, they came about after I did an Apple Meditation.

I began writing in November of 07. I have many ideas for fictional novels, though they are not that fiction to me. They are about the archetypes in my mind and my different personalities. I have always been a quiet person, one who keeps to themselves and locked in their own mind. When I was a child I use to create stories of these images I see and many of the stories have stayed. One story I have finished (which is an 183 word paged single spaced document). In the beginning I meant for this story to be short, but it grew. I worked on and off for three years – it is a symbol of my life as it is now and in the past. It’s part of me and my family. I have about seven other novels yet to complete, and that’s just fictional work. I have a couple of spiritual stories started as well.

My major is psychology and sociology, but I will be beginning social work soon. I am at the beginning of my studies, but I still have received a lot of insights over the years of this world, and some hints of what is beyond. I feel I was brought to this world to spread the word of the Universe, help reveal those “secrets” that many have kept hidden. I feel I’ll make an impact somewhere in a major way.

I have many guides; I use to think I created them myself. I use to not pay too close attention to them, but one day a dawning came to me. I couldn’t ignore them or assume that they are my own creations. It wasn’t anything dramatic, but in ‘09, I’ll say sometime in September, I was sitting in my school library contemplating, again, about the world and beyond. I pondered about heaven, if there really was a hell, God, Satan, excreta. I saw a flash from the corner of my eye, to my left, of an image that looked to be a man. I felt its presence, though I couldn’t see it fully. This image told me I was one of the “chosen ones”. I didn’t know what that meant then, and even now I can’t say I am too sure. Maybe I am modest. The voice was a bit muffled, but its presence stayed. I can’t remember if he spoke to me more, he may have, but this image came more and more after that meeting. I portray this image as a he.

When I first decided to get in contact with my guides was, again, sometime in ‘09, but was earlier in the year. I’ll say in early March. I read a short book on Angels, I cant remember the exact title, but it was small. I read it in less than an hour. It said something about writing; sitting somewhere quiet with a note pad, clear your mind the best you can, and think of a question to ask your guardian angels. After you asked the question you must write the first words that come to your mind – the very first words which are hard to catch.

So I did this. I asked in my mind, as if I knew someone was near. I asked: What is your name? The name I got was: Ezekiel. I immediately became a bit frightened, I never heard of the name then, to be honest. Well, I wasn’t scared. It was more of shock and uncertainty, but I asked another question. I asked what is heaven like, and my response was: heaven is where all is in harmony with one another. All sing the same song.

That is not exactly what I received, but the message was short. It was about harmony, no one judged another the way we do here on earth. “There is an equal understanding that goes without words. One does not speak like one speaks here upon earth. The language is of emotion, a smile can say a lot.” That is what I received now (2/16/12). It was the similar message I received in my first meeting with Them. I will say ‘them’ because I am pretty sure there was more than one who was listening.

I speak to many different guides, both who have a voice of either male or female, but a lot of the time I can not tell if it is male or female who I am speaking to. The one I call Ezekiel is the one I spoke to the most, in the beginning. I know they do not have names. They give us a name if we ask for one, but it is more of a code than a true name. They recently told me that names are codes, but do not define who we are, but the letters have a unique meaning that fits each one of us. We have an earth name, and a spirit name. The spirit name can only be understood outside the body, but if one studies the art of numbers (not the math you learn in school, but an ancient art that takes years to master) you can learn your true name and receive certain messages more clearly. It is hard for Them to talk to us with words, they communicate with emotion. This is why at times, though most do not realize, that we just get flashes of places and people. Sometimes a place you may never have been, or a place that looks as if you created it on your own, but the place is real. Most of the great works of authors, such as Shakespeare, and other ancient authors that defined the way we write stories in the modern world, used their spiritual experiences and insights to create their worlds. It is their way to express their inner feelings and what they know about the world and beyond, if one knows how to decode their works they’ll learn great things… but it is almost impossible and a long process. Much of these ‘great works’ aren’t the potential they once were, but it is still possible to understand their messages.

The Angels, if that is what you want to call them, and the Spirits who speak to us they do so through the scope of our understanding. This is why many do not feel the answer they receive from God or the Angles, or assume they do not hear or are not listening. The Angels respond to you instantly, because they are always there and are willing to help you in anyway as long as you listen and speak to them. If you are locked inside your conscious mind, which many are, it is hard for their messages that come from the unconscious to reach the conscious mind. The messages, which come as an image or numeric code, come to the conscious mind as words, but the words can only be the words you know. It is hard to form some messages into words if one does not know the words that the message translates to. This is why it is hard for many to understand God’s message, which is sent through his guides (both who are the so-called Angel and advanced Spirits). An Angel is a pure soul.

Art is another wonderful way many of us express what we know, what we receive, and capture (or try to) what the others on the other side look like to us, and what the places beyond our scope of seeing (other worlds, other realities, dimensions, excreta). Art is another coded work. Modern art is not like the ancient art, many do not know how to capture a meaning into a painting, but there are still some great works out there that should be studied by those who want to. Art – of all forms including music – is a great way to express ones spiritual self. It should not be ignored or taken lightly, or taken for granted like it is by many.

I do a lot of drawing. A lot of what I draw represents, to me, the inner depths of my mind and my emotions. I will share a few of my drawings here when I feel the time's right to.

(here's an image of the book I read that brought me the vision of Uriel, a story I will post in the future once it is written)