Belialith. What a strange name to have. Even as a nickname. But I didn't pick it. In fact, I was always trying to hide my 'other' nature. Nevertheless, it hunts you down. The truth, whatever it is, cannot be hidden...or at least, not forever. My two sisters, my best friends...both read romance novels. If it wasn't for my older sister Molly bugging me to read this and that book that she just loved, I would never have read any romance novels. "We are not lovers, we are not romantics, we are here to serve you." Marilyn Manson lyrics, spells it out perfectly. But I only read the really short ones. And there was one that I liked. The guys name in it was Tamar. But that was it. No more. And then one day my sister read this really thick romance novel called, "Angelique and the Demon" and she told me I remind her of a character in the book, hahaha, she wouldn't tell me which one, but that I remind her of one of them and that I should read the book to find out. I picked it up, looked at how thick it was and threw it back on the bed saying, no thanks. I ended up going to Toronto when I was 20, a month before my 21st birthday. Then my little sister Rosy would write me letters and she wrote a poem that freaked me out because I thought she was an innocent little angel. It was called "The 80 Legions of Belialith" and she told me it was about me. I thought it so scary, like oh my goodness, my cover might be blown. I mean, even though I have nothing to do with demons or legions, and I had never heard of the name Belialith before....I just did know that I was pure black, and I had to hide that at all cost. But the man who I was living with in Toronto said he was born with a veil over his face, which makes him a seer. He was part Scottish Jew--part Haitain, father/mother respectively. And as soon as he saw me walk into his restaurant he stared at me. Then, when I didn't have a place to stay, he offered my his place until I could get myself a place of my own. We ended up becoming lovers for six months. He said to me that I'm a goddess, and it got me frightened, because I wondered how much he really saw. I just brushed it off, tried to hide it all behind a dumb cover. But now my little sister was sending me a poem that she wrote, about me? Oh my goodness. I did feel a bit hunted, but I knew I could hide whatever I wanted to stay hidden. I had to. I had a job to do. After six months, something really strange happened at the place where Gregory McClelland and I lived. Something in the backyard one night was making possessed sounds. Only a tree branch was moving in the tree, but there was nothing there. The next door neighbors were all dressed in long black gowns with a red mark at the neck. They came out trying to calm the thing that was crying so much. I was upset that they were even talking to him, because they didn't know what he was going through, and I sure felt like I did. But that's another story. So after that event, where Gregory for the first time in six months didn't come home all night, I decided to leave the place. Went to Ottawa, and other strange things happened, so I only stayed there one month before I went back to Windsor. That's when my little sister told me she read the book that Molly had read and said the character in there reminded her of me, and that I should read the book. I really did not want to read a romance novel. But now, since I was bugged by Molly and Rosy, and that poem she sent me, well, I had to reconsider and I read the book. It was years later, when I finally took the name as a nickname for my blogging purposes. It was only because such a respected person as Gurdjieff wrote a book called Beelzebub's Tales to His Grandson, that I felt, if I used the name Gurdjieff in there somewhere, it would make sense, since I'm a female, he was a male, so the name Belialith wouldn't be so harsh, seeing there's a story behind it, like Gurdjieff...a moral behind the story. Not just some cruel creepy person who does dull things.
It is the little things. The little things that make up a large story. And the only way to find the truth, is to look deep at all those little things. Don't look too closely too quickly, otherwise you'll shut the book in your face and go ignorantly around, like your weak ego decides. But look at it every day a little at a time, and you will begin to see the largeness behind it, which becomes easier to handle and deal with after you've grown a bit stronger. Don't be frightened, I tell myself. It's only me. Hahaha. So my sister Rosy, the younger one got breast cancer in her late 30s. Then Molly, my older sister got it too. Rosy passed away in 2012, and six months later, Molly passed away in 2013. Rosy's body was buried on the Autumn Equinox, and Molly's body was buried on the Spring Equinox. You can see how that leaves the Winter and Summer all to me, huh? Hm. Think about the difficulty in seeing those little things presented before your eye? How would you deal with that? Hm. Anyway...
I'll continue this story later. I want to go to sleep now.
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