Bad Vibrations Quotes

If death is this brilliant slide, this high, fine music felt as pure vibration, this plunging float in wind and silence, it's not so bad.

Hermes smiled. "I knew a boy once ... oh, younger than you by far. A mere baby, really." Here we go again, George said. Always talking about himself. Quiet! Martha snapped. Do you want to get set on vibrate? Hermes ignored them. "One night, when this boy's mother wasn't watching, he sneaked out of their cave and stole some cattle that belonged to Apollo." "Did he get blasted to tiny pieces?" I asked. "Hmm ... no. Actually, everything turned out quite well. To make up for his theft, the boy gave Apollo an instrument he'd invented-a lyre. Apollo was so enchanted with the music that he forgot all about being angry." So what's the moral?" "The moral?" Hermes asked. "Goodness, you act like it's a fable. It's a true story. Does truth have a moral?" "Um ..." "How about this: stealing is not always bad?" "I don't think my mom would like that moral." Rats are delicious, suggested George. What does that have to do with the story? Martha demanded. Nothing, George said. But I'm hungry. "I've got it," Hermes said. "Young people don't always do what they're told, but if they can pull it off and do something wonderful, sometimes they escape punishment. How's that?

If life throws you a few bad notes or vibrations, don't let them interrupt or alter your song.

The human body resonates at the same frequency as Mother Earth. So instead of only focusing on trying to save the earth, which operates in congruence to our vibrations, I think it is more important to be one with each other. If you really want to remedy the earth, we have to mend mankind. And to unite mankind, we heal the Earth. That is the only way. Mother Earth will exist with or without us. Yet if she is sick, it is because mankind is sick and separated. And if our vibrations are bad, she reacts to it, as do all living creatures.

The fault lies with us, and only us. It’s not fate, not genetics, not bad luck, and it’s definitely not Mom and Dad. Ultimately it’s us and our choices. But, but’ – now her eyes shone and she almost vibrated with excitement – ‘the most powerful, spectacular thing is that the solution rests with us as well. We’re the only ones who can change our lives, turn them around. So all those years waiting for someone else to do it are wasted.

At least if you’re going to hell,” he said, the vibrations in his chest rumbling against her, “then we’ll be there together.” “I feel bad for the dark god already.

And even then, it's not like you did all that much," I said, talking over him, because it was the only way to get a word in edgeways with Pritkin sometimes. He had filched the bottle back to take a drink, but at that he lowered it and looked at me, his eyes very green next to the amber liquor. "What?" "I just meant, it wasn't all that and a bag of chips. You know?" He blinked at me. "No offense," I added, because he was looking kind of poleaxed. Like maybe he hadn't had a whole lot of complaints before. Which was, frankly, pretty damn understandable. But I feigned indifference. "I mean, it couldn't have been that bad if -" "Bad?" "Well, not bad bad." He just looked at me. "I mean, I came and everything, so that has to count for some -" I cut off because I was suddenly enveloped in a strong pair of arms, and my head was crushed to a hard chest. A chest that appeared to be vibrating. It took me a few moments to get it, and even then I wasn't so sure, because Pritkin's face was buried in my hair. But I kind of thought - as impossible as it seemed - that he might be ... laughing?

(Unsure if she should laugh or groan, Astrid held fast to the tank before her as Zarek pushed the snowmachine to the limits. It vibrated so badly that she half-expected it to disintegrate underneath them.) Cap’n, I don’t think she’ll hold. The warp engines can’t take any more. It’s going to blow apart. (Astrid)

Our hearts resonate at the same frequency as the earth and the universe. Therefore, we are all valuable instruments in the orchestration of the world and its harmony. We must always be aware of the vibrations we emit individually and collectively. Always be in command of your music. Only you can control and shape its tone. If life throws you a few bad notes or vibrations, don't let them interrupt or alter your song.

You are a valuable instrument in the orchestration of your own world, and the overall harmony of the universe. Always be in command of your music. Only you can control and shape its tone. If life throws you a few bad notes or vibrations, don't let them interrupt or alter your song.

Relationships are one thing. I kind of agree with you there. But I'm talking about sex. Don't you have...uh...needs?" "Yes. But I take care of those by myself. I have a very handy vibrator.

So bring on your clubs and parties, your acrobats and magicians, your daredevils, jet cars, motorcycle helicopters, your sex and heroin, more of everything to do with automatic reflex. If the drama is bad, if the film says nothing, if the play is hollow, sting me with the theremin, loudly. I'll think I'm responding to the play, when it's only a tactile reaction to vibration. But I don't care. I just like solid entertainment.

There are two missions we are obligated to carry out during our life journey. The first, is to seek Truth throughout our lifetime. The second, is simply to be good. Engrave it in your mind that life is just one big board game where you have to make it from start to finish by being good. That is all you have to do. The hardest part, is dealing with all the obstacles that prevent smooth sailing. The trick is, to always strive to be the right person in all situations – regardless of personal cost to you. Your aim is to make sure the right book on your shoulder weighs more that the bad book on the left. The scales are real. Regardless of your chosen faith, there is a measurement system to be found in all of the world's religions. After all, does it make sense for all souls, good or bad, to end up in the same place? Of course not. To really secure the very best setting in the afterlife, the vibrations of your good deeds must surpass your death.

Always be in command of your music. If life throws you a few bad notes or vibrations, don't let them interrupt or alter your song.

Some women, Commander Norton had decided long ago, should not be allowed aboard ship; weightlessness did things to their breasts that were too damn distracting. It was bad enough when they were motionless; but when they started to move, and sympathetic vibrations set in, it was more than any warm-blooded male should be asked to take. Some women, Commander Norton had decided long ago, should not be allowed aboard ship; weightlessness did things to their breasts that were too damn distracting. It was bad enough when they were motionless; but when they started to move, and sympathetic vibrations set in, it was more than any warm-blooded male should be asked to take. He was quite sure that at least one serious space accident had been caused by acute crew distraction, after the transit of a well-upholstered lady officer through the control cabin.

If the shrike did not eat the grasshoppers, then the grasshoppers would eat all the grass, and there would be none left for the deer...and the deer are food for the tiger. Life in the jungle is a giant spiderweb; if you touch one strand, it will vibrate at the other end. We cannot separate nature into good and bad, Rita. The gods do not will it so.

Energy is neither good nor bad; it simply varies in vibrational density.

Ben Says: Life can either be all about LOVE (Good vibrations) or HATE (Bad vibrations)... You make the decision!:) Timothy Pina Bullying Ben

Always trust your gut instinct. Because your not paranoid. If something in your body picks up on a bad vibrations that deep down inside of you just not right about a person or a situation , trust it .

In my dream, we were tiny specks in a vast, uncaring universe. I tried to count all the atoms, but I felt infinity staring back at me. And it was terrifying. I realized something. I'm just the vibration of a few atoms that happened to clump together, an impossibly unique combination that will eventually dismantle, and drift apart forever. And then I'll be gone too, into an unimaginable void, where even sadness can't exist.

In winter you wake up in this city, especially on Sundays, to the chiming of its innumerable bells, as though behind your gauze curtains a gigantic china teaset were vibrating on a silver tray in the pearl-gray sky. You fling the window open and the room is instantly flooded with this outer, peal-laden haze, which is part damp oxygen, part coffee and prayers. No matter what sort of pills, and how many, you've got to swallow this morning, you feel it's not over for you yet. No matter, by the same token, how autonomous you are, how much you've been betrayed, how thorough and dispiriting in your self-knowledge, you assume there is still hope for you, or at least a future. (Hope, said Francis Bacon, is a good breakfast but bad supper.) This optimism derives from the haze, from the prayer part of it, especially if it's time for breakfast. On days like this, the city indeed acquires a porcelain aspect, what with all its zinc-covered cupolas resembling teapots or upturned cups, and the tilted profile of campaniles clinking like abandoned spoons and melting in the sky. Not to mention the seagulls and pigeons, now sharpening into focus, now melting into air. I should say that, good though this place is for honeymoons, I've often thought it should be tried for divorces also - both in progress and already accomplished. There is no better backdrop for rapture to fade into; whether right or wrong, no egoist can star for long in this porcelain setting by crystal water, for it steals the show. I am aware, of course, of the disastrous consequence the above suggestion may have for hotel rates here, even in winter. Still, people love their melodrama more than architecture, and I don't feel threatened. It is surprising that beauty is valued less than psychology, but so long as such is the case, I'll be able to afford this city - which means till the end of my days, and which ushers in the generous notion of the future.

My wife and I made a pact a long time ago, and we’ve kept it no matter how angry we’ve grown with each other. When one yells, the other should listen—because when two people yell, there is no communication, just noise and bad vibrations.

Looking at it though, I remember what my mum had once told me: 'Everyone is made up of little contradictory pieces and you should never judge another person's decisions because you don't know the pieces they have to choose from.' A thief is a criminal until he's stealing to feed his kin. A neglectful mother is a bad mother until she is working two jobs to give her children the best opportunities. A gun is terrifying until it's what's keeping you safe, and then you're terrified without it. Some of us have a lot of contradictory pieces. Some less. My heart vibrates as I turn to watch Max sleep again. I don't know much about his pieces, but I know he has a lot of them. And they all have weight.

There was but one question he left unasked, and it vibrated between his lines: if gross miscalculations of a person’s value could occur on a baseball field, before a live audience of thirty thousand, and a television audience of millions more, what did that say about the measurement of performance in other lines of work? If professional baseball players could be over-or undervalued, who couldn’t? Bad as they may have been, the statistics used to evaluate baseball players were probably far more accurate than anything used to measure the value of people who didn’t play baseball for a living.

It’s much easier for me, for all of us, to complain and gossip because it holds the listener’s interest, but it does have a negative residual effect. I thought I was making fun dinner conversation, but it was actually just a release for me. My friend had no choice but to open up those “low vibrational” topics because that’s what I’d been talking about the most. Things people have done or said that are fucked up, ways people have let me down, failures, bad behavior, rudeness, lies. The shortcut to human connection is meeting on the common ground of hating a third person. But that shit is low vibrational and leaves a fart fog of shittiness in the air. And sometimes, people already have so much shittiness going on in their lives, they just can’t take another moment of it. Remember that.

A person who is low-spirited or inharmonious will contract a cold; a happy, fearless person will be immune to germs. For example, a woman goes out in cold weather in evening clothes - lightly clad - but is quite comfortable, for she feels she is looking well and is filled with anticipation for a happy evening. If the same woman is dressed in an unbecoming gown or in a bad humor, she will come back complaining of a cold and discomfort and have a cough the next day. A harmonious person is never vibrating at the same rate as a germ.

Negative experiences lower our personal vibrations and we feel bad. This state attracts more negative experiences leading to negative vibrations. Lower vibes are bad for health of the soul.

you are an exit wound the extra shot of tequila the tangled knot of hair that has to be cut out you are the cell phone ringing in a hushed theatre pebble wedged in the sole of a boot the bloody hangnail you are, just this once you are flip flops in a thunderstorm the boy’s lost erection a pen gone dry you are my father’s nightmare my mother’s mirage you are a manic high which is to say: you are a bad idea you are herpes despite the condom you are, I know better you are pieces of cork floating in the wine glass you are the morning after whose name I can’t remember still in my bed the hole in my rain boots vibrator with no batteries you are, shut up and kiss me you are naked wearing socks mascara bleeding down laughing cheeks you are the wrong guy buying me a drink you are the typo in an otherwise brilliant novel sweetalk into unprotected sex the married coworker my stubbed toe you are not new or uncommon not brilliant or beautiful you are a bad idea rock star in the back seat of a taxi burned popcorn top shelf, at half price you are everything I want you are a poem I cannot write a word I cannot translate you are an exit wound a name I cannot bring myself to say aloud

Things must really be bad if they think so too.” Instead of pitying someone, turn on your inner flashlight, maintain your high vibration, and guide that person back to peace through your positive presence.

Medical journals from 1905 to 1915 are rife with articles on “vibratory massage” and the many things it cures. Weakened hearts and floating kidneys. Hysterical cramp of the esophagus and catarrh of the inner ear. Deafness, cancer, bad eyesight. And lots and lots of prostate problems. A Dr. Courtney W. Shropshire, writing in 1912, was impressed to note that by means of “a special prostatic applicator, well lubricated, attached to the vibrator, introduced to the rectum” he was “able to empty the seminal vesicles of their secretions.” Indeedy. Shropshire’s patients returned every other day for treatment, no doubt also developing a relationship with the vibration machine.

We are all mysteries, to those who love us and also to ourselves. When you find someone who embraces you, loves and desires you every moment, accepts your mysteries and flaws without judgement, you’ve struck gold. How delicious is the thought that this mysterious complex creature, chooses to share a life with you? Too many of us undervalue ourselves by digging too deep into the mistakes we have made or dwelling on when we failed at something like relationships, responsibilities, careers, whatever it might be. All those experiences make up the mystery and story of who we are. We are complex beings, all together in this fucked up but beautiful world. Whatever the mistakes or failures of someone’s murky past that leads them to your door should be experiences you are grateful for and that is cause for celebration. All of us have had experiences, good and bad, and those make up the intricate tapestry of who we are. I often feel insecure in so many ways, fragile and easily broken even when I know that is only a self-defeating perception that sometimes rears its ugly head. I am doing what I love, and deeply in love with someone with whom I want to share my future and write our own magical mystery story. I guess what I am trying to say is don’t dig so deep that you end up cutting your roots and the lifeblood that feeds and makes you. Match your energy and vibration with what you envision. Believe. You deserve love and success, so go for it.

I’ve been in your skin,” he taunted. “I know you inside and out. There’s nothing there. Do us all a favor and die so we can start working on another plan and quit thinking maybe you’ll grow the fuck up and be capable of something.” Okay, enough! “You don’t know me inside and out,” I snarled. “You may have gotten in my skin, but you have never gotten inside my heart. Go ahead, Barrons, make me slice and dice myself. Go ahead, play games with me. Push me around. Lie to me. Bully me. Be your usual constant jackass self. Stalk around all broody and pissy and secretive, but you’re wrong about me. There’s something inside me you’d better be afraid of. And you can’t touch my soul. You will never touch my soul!” I raised my hand, drew back the knife, and let it fly. It sliced through the air, straight for his head. He avoided it with preternatural grace, a mere whisper of a movement, precisely and only as much as was required to not get hit. The hilt vibrated in the wood of the ornate mantel next to his head. “So, fuck you, Jericho Barrons, and not the way you like it. Fuck you—as in, you can’t touch me. Nobody can.” I kicked the table at him. It crashed into his shins. I picked up a lamp from the end table. Flung it straight at his head. He ducked again. I grabbed a book. It thumped off his chest. He laughed, dark eyes glittering with exhilaration. I launched myself at him, slammed a fist into his face. I heard a satisfying crunch and felt something in his nose give. He didn’t try to hit me back or push me away. Merely wrapped his arms around me and crushed me tight to his body, trapping my arms against his chest. Then, when I thought he might just squeeze me to death, he dropped his head forward, into the hollow where my shoulder met my neck. “Do you miss fucking me, Ms. Lane?” he purred against my ear. Voice resonated in my skull, pressuring a reply. I was tall and strong and proud inside myself. Nobody owned me. I didn’t have to answer any questions I didn’t want to, ever again. “Wouldn’t you just love to know?” I purred back. “You want more of me, don’t you, Barrons? I got under your skin deep. I hope you got addicted to me. I was a wild one, wasn’t I? I bet you never had sex like that in your entire existence, huh, O Ancient One? I bet I rocked your perfectly disciplined little world. I hope wanting me hurts like hell!” His hands were suddenly cruelly tight on my waist. “There’s only one question that matters, Ms. Lane, and it’s the one you never get around to asking. People are capable of varying degrees of truth. The majority spend their entire lives fabricating an elaborate skein of lies, immersing themselves in the faith of bad faith, doing whatever it takes to feel safe. The person who truly lives has precious few moments of safety, learns to thrive in any kind of storm. It’s the truth you can stare down stone-cold that makes you what you are. Weak or strong. Live or die. Prove yourself. How much truth can you take, Ms. Lane?” Dreamfever

Maybe I should make the first move,” I whispered, wrapping my fingers around his wrist. “But what if he thinks I’m too easy?” “He’ll be too busy thinking he’s damned lucky.” “Well, then …” I wriggled around to face him. “Howdy, neighbor.” He traced my eyebrow with the tip of his finger. “Hi. I really like the view around here.” “The hospitality isn’t bad, either.” “Oh? Plenty of towels?” I pushed at his shoulder. “Do you want to suck face or not?” “Suck face?” His head fell back and he laughed, his chest vibrating against me. It was a lusty, full-bodied sound and my toes curled at hearing it. Gideon laughed so rarely. My hands slid under his sweater and glided over warm skin. My lips moved over his jaw. “Is that a no?” “Angel, I’ll suck on any part of your body I can get my mouth on.

EMBRACE YOUR TRANSFORMATIONS Transformations are a part of life. We are constantly being changed by things changing around us. Nobody can control that. Nobody can control the environment, the economy, luck, or the moods of others. Compositions change. Positions change. Dispositions change. Experiences change. Opportunities and attitudes change. YOU will change. Never say never unless you can predict the future. Do not only remember people when you are down. Be good to others and always give to others when you can. Every man will fall at some point in their life. But do remember, you are a reflection of the universe and every man experiences the seasons within. Meaning, you will fall many times, but also spring back up. You will have sunny days, but also many bad days where you feel like dying. You never know when you will need help, and help will only remember you if you were good to them when you were UP. Not a singe wave is constant. You are no different. You are like music, a moving composition of vibrations and waves. You will experience happiness, sadness, pain and loss many times. Just learn to enjoy the music and never take setbacks too seriously. They are only temporary. And whenever you do fall , just remember that spring is just around the corner.

I tore through The Catcher in the Rye and Lord of the Flies in elementary school, my pretween brain vibrating with a mixture of titillation and pretension. Ahh, so many swears. Very grown-up, I would think. And Even on an island, I would know it is bad to murder a little boy with glasses, because I am a little boy with glasses..

I want to look darkness in the eye and not be afraid. I want to feel the resonance of history and all the bad things people have done and try to understand why. I want to stand inside the Colosseum, feel the vibrations of so much death and despair. I want to walk the corridors of Columbine High. I want to touch the walls of Auschwitz.

The vibrations he felt in his sleep had nothing to do with his soul easing out of his body as he dreamily thought; they came solely from the weight and motion of the freight train rolling north to deliver fuel, furniture and other items having no relevance to Elijah’s life or his dreaming. On the metal rail his arm itched like a nose with a feeling that something bad was about to happen. In another life the sound of the train would have been reminiscent of certain songs by Muddy Waters or even Bruce Springsteen but not in this one. In this life the sound stabbed viciously against the night exactly like a human being demonstrating flawless disrespect for the life of another human being. --from short story ELIJAH’S SKIN

Every man will fall at some point in their life. But do remember, you are a reflection of the universe and every man experiences the seasons within. Meaning, you will fall many times, but also spring back up. You will have sunny days, but also many bad days where you feel like dying. You never know when you will need help, and help will only remember you if you were good to them when you were UP. Not a singe wave is constant. You are no different. You are like music, a moving composition of vibrations and waves. You will experience happiness, sadness, pain and loss many times. Just learn to enjoy the music and never take setbacks too seriously. They are only temporary. And whenever you do fall, just remember that spring is just around the corner.

I love McNab." Even as she turned toward Peabody, Eve could feel the muscle under her right eye vibrating toward a twitch. "Oh man. Do you have to do this?" "Yeah. I love McNab," Peabody repeated. "It took me a while to realize it, or get there, however it works. But he's the one. If you were to drop down dead, and Roarke decided I could comfort him with wild sex I probably wouldn't do it. Probably. But even if I did, I'd still love McNab." "At least I'm dead in your sexual fantasy." "It's only fair. I wouldn't cheat on my partner. So I probably wouldn't have sex with Roarke, should the opportunity arise, unless both you and McNab were killed in a freak accident." "Thanks, Peabody. I feel a lot better now." ''And we'd probably wait a decent interval. Like two weeks. If we could control ourselves." "It just gets better and better," Eve remarked. "In a way, we'd really be celebrating your lives, and our love for you both." "Maybe you're the ones who die in a freak accident," Eve tossed back. "Then me and McNab... No, Jesus. No." She visibly shuddered. "I don't love you that much." "Aw, that's not very nice. Too bad for you, because McNab's an airjack in the sack." "Shut up now. Save yourself.

There was someone in his little attic room. Geralt knew it before he even reached the door, sensing it through the barely perceptible vibration of his medallion. He blew out the oil lamp which had lit his path up the stairs, pulled the dagger from his boot, slipped it into the back of his belt and pressed the door handle. The room was dark. But not for a witcher. He was deliberately slow in crossing the threshold; he closed the door behind him carefully. The next second he dived at the person sitting on his bed, crushed them into the linen, forced his forearm under their chin and reached for his dagger. He didn't pull it out. Something wasn't right. “Not a bad start,” she said in a muffled voice, lying motionless beneath him. “I expected something like this, but I didn't think we'd both be in bed so quickly. Take your hand from my throat please.” “It's

That’s it. The fault lies with us, and only us. It’s not fate, not genetics, not bad luck, and it’s definitely not Mom and Dad. Ultimately it’s us and our choices. But, but’ – now her eyes shone and she almost vibrated with excitement – ‘the most powerful, spectacular thing is that the solution rests with us as well. We’re the only ones who can change our lives, turn them around. So all those years waiting for someone else to do it are wasted.

Love and appreciation are identical vibrations. Appreciation is the vibration of alignment with who-you-are. Appreciation is the absence of everything that feels bad and the presence of everything that feels good. When you focus upon what you want – when you tell the story of how you want your life to be – you will come closer and closer to the vicinity of appreciation, and when you reach it, it will pull you toward all things that you consider to be good in a very powerful way.

Triggers explain why. Even a bad review or negative word of mouth can increase sales if it informs or reminds people that the product or idea exists. That’s why a sixty-dollar Tuscan red wine saw sales rise by 5 percent after a prominent wine website described it as “redolent of stinky socks.” It’s also one reason why the Shake Weight, a vibrating dumbbell that was widely ridiculed by the media and consumers, went on to do $50 million in sales. Even negative attention can be useful if it makes products and ideas top of mind.

Close your eyes and trust; go in the direction of what makes you feel authentically lighter and brighter. There is no good or bad. Retribution feels vibrationally better than desperation. It’s better than sitting still because your energy has movement. Frustration is better than retribution, because now you’re not projecting negative energy outward, you’re processing it within. Apathy is better than frustration; at least you’ve reached some form of detachment. Optimism is better than apathy. Optimism becomes happiness. Co-creative inspiration follows… and then comes joy.

Because I believe that the beauty of life outweighs the bad. And I know that were I to take up the banner against such hatred, they would use my Otherness to hurt more than just me. Tis better that I take Will’s own words to heart, which he so eloquently penned. ‘The web of our life is of a mingled yarn, good and ill together.’” Trust Horatio to use a quote from Shakespeare to make his point, even though I needed it interpreted. “What does that mean?” His rumbling chuckle vibrated against me like thunder. “Simply put, life is messy. You cannot have all good, for without the bad as well, how would you recognize that which is fair? Without knowing the darker feelings of your kin, I would not appreciate the goodness of your friendship as much.

Hermetics teaches us that all the universe is in vibration, from the lowest planes to the highest planes. Just like a piano, being played by a concert pianist, vibrates from its lowest notes, to its highest. For too long spiritual writers and thinkers have portrayed a universe that is hierarchical, the bottom being bad/evil/materialistic, and the top being exalted/good/spiritual. For many of us, our religious upbringing consisted of learning the physical body was 'sinful' and that the only thing of value in a human being was the soul or spirit. Unfortunately, the echoes of that body/soul dichotomy are still found in the writings of some modern metaphysical thinkers. They are fond of talking about 'raising one's vibrations,' as if being on the twelfth floor of a building was superior to being on the first floor! If that were the case, elevators would be holy objects, and we'd all have achieved illumination by now.

You are the lifemate of a senstive, modern male. Julian's lazy amusement warmed her further, confirming what she already suspected, that he often stayed a shadow in her mind. How fortunate for me. Desari smiled at herself in the mirror. Her dark hair cascaded in waves down her back. There was a sparkle in her eyes. She knew Julian had made her feel more alive than she had ever been. Sensitive, modern men are so to my liking. Men? I am certain I did not hear my lifemate use the word men.The plural.No man is allowed to be to your liking other than myself. He sounded stern, the fierce Carpathian male at his most menacing. Desari laughed aloud. I suppose I can see your point, Julian, but really, it is so difficult to keep from noticing all of those handsome hunks in the audience. Handsome hunks? His voice dropped low with the affront. They are more like lovesick fops. If they could feel the vibrations in the air, they would show sense and run for their lives. It is bad enough to read their fantasies and hear them talk their trash, cara,but it is altogether worse to hear that my woman is looking back. One smile at the wrong man, lifemate, and trouble will find the man quickly. You sound jealous,she accused him, amusement curving her soft mouth. The first rule for all women to know and never forget is that Carpathian makes do not share their lifemates. Your brother has much to answer for that this was not drilled into you since birth.It was his job to prepare you for my coming. It was said somewhere between jest and complaint. Desari drew in her breath sharply, finding herself wavering between laughter and exasperation. My brother had no idea of your existence, you arrogant male. Besides, how could he possibly prepare me for your total ignorance of women? More likely, had he known you were coming to speak your ritual words, he would have been waiting to ambush you.I myself would have burrowed deep within the ground until you passed beyond my surroundings. You would have burst from the ground staight into my arms,cara mia, and you know this to be true. Now he was laughing, that smug, taunting, male amusement that should have set her teeth on edge but instead made her laugh. I think you are trying to find something to dictate to me about just so you do not lose your ability. Go away and practice this male art form on someone else. You will be singing to me tonight, piccola,and to no other man. You are a spoiled little boy,not a grown man. Should I come show you what a grown man I am? His voice was suddenly low and warm, so sexy she felt a rush of answering heat. She could feel the brush of his fingers against her throat, trailing down the valley between her suddenly aching breasts. Go away,Julian, she laughed in answer. I cannot have you getting me hot and bothered just now. As long as I know you re hot and bothered for me, I will do as you request and go back to work. I can only hope.

For nine months, the engineers had been testing and calibrating and retesting all aspects of the system, especially the behemoth Westinghouse dynamos. Lead engineer B. J. Lamme described what happened during one early test in Pittsburgh of a giant dynamo when numerous little temporary steel bolts had “loosened up under vibration, and finally shook into contact with each other, thus forming a short circuit…. In a moment there was one tremendous [electric] arc around the end of the windings of the entire machine…. It looked, at first glance, as though the whole infernal regions had broken loose. Everybody jumped for cover.” One man managed to shut down the machine, and gradually the huge flaming electrical arc that had engulfed the dynamo subsided. Peering forth from their shelters, the engineers then rushed back and “someone climbed underneath to see what had become of our man inside … expecting him to be badly scorched…. He said the fire came in all around him but did not touch him.”30 No one present had ever seen such a sight.

If we were home alone right now, I’d be fucking you, bent over the back of this chair we’re sitting on.” Squirming on his lap, feeling the hard ridge of his cock press into my ass, I bite my lip to keep from moaning out loud. “Fuck.” His eyes go to the window behind us briefly then come back to me, dark with lust. “Are you wet for me?” His deeply spoken words slide over my skin as his hand slides under my shirt and down the front of my shorts. “Yes.” My eyes flare, and I try to turn my head to see if anyone is in the kitchen, but his free hand grabs my jaw, stopping me. “Spread your legs a little. Let me feel how wet you are for myself.” “Someone—” “Now,” he cuts me off, and my legs open ever so slightly. I am instantly rewarded with a flick to my swollen clit, making me gasp. “You have no idea how badly I want to eat you right now,” he groans, plunging one thick finger inside of me, and my breath gets trapped in my lungs. “I can practically taste your hot little cunt on my tongue.” His dirty words vibrate against my ear as one finger becomes two and his thumb begins to circle my clit. “Does that feel good?

For example, let us say that a woman has recently come from a bad relationship where her partner has verbally and physically abused her. She did not want that or like that. In fact she hated the life that she lived with that person. So, from her place of really knowing what she does not want, she makes a clear statement of what she does want. She wants a partner who loves her and treats her with kindness and respect. But she feels very insecure without a partner, and she wants a new partner immediately. And so, she goes someplace where she is accustomed to going and meets a new person who seems nice enough. But what she may not realize is that the Law of Attraction is still matching her up with whatever is dominant within her. And right now, what is still dominant within her is the vibration of what she does not want because the unwanted parts of her last relationship are much more active within her thoughts than the new intentions that have been established. In her eagerness to soothe her feelings of insecurity, she takes action and jumps into this new relationship—and gets more of what is dominant within her vibration. It would be our encouragement that she take things more slowly and spend more time thinking about what she wants until those thoughts are the basis for the dominant vibration within her. And then, let the Law of Attraction bring her wonderful new partner to her.

I was too stunned to think or move. I knew he desired my blood. And yet I did not want to hinder him. With a flick of his fingers, he untied the ribbon at my collar and pulled open my nightdress at my neck, exposing my collar-bone and upper chest. His mouth instantly found the supersensitive skin at the side of my throat, and at first, butterfly touch, I quivered and moaned in ecstasy. Suddenly, I felt two sharp pricks against my flesh, and I gasped again. The pain was trivial, quickly replaced by a feeling of languid pleasure such as I had never before imagined. It was as if I could feel my blood seeping out of me, and at the same time, something new, magical, and effervescent seemed to be mingling with my own life essence. Soon, it felt as if the tingling, liquid glow that had been throbbing in my very centre was pulsating throughout all the veins in my body, as if every one of my senses was alive and heightened to a fever-pitch- and with it came a sense of impending danger. Deep down inside of me, I knew that this was bad for me- very bad- that if he took too much blood it would kill me- that I must put a stop to it before it was too late. But I had no will to stop it. I heard a strange vibration, like singing through deep water. My head fell back; I heard myself sigh with intense pleasure; my knees began to buckle beneath me. If nirvana existed, I thought, in the remote corner of my mind which could still think, this must be it. I never wanted it to end.

Mindy runs to the DVD player and delicately places the disk in the holder and presses play. “Will you sit in this chair, please, Princess Mindy?” I ask, bowing deeply at the waist. Mindy giggles as she replies, ”I guess so.” After Mindy sits down, I take a wide-tooth comb and start gently combing out her tangles. Mindy starts vibrating with excitement as she blurts, “Mr. Jeff, you’re gonna fix my hair fancy, ain’t you?” “We’ll see if a certain Princess can hold still long enough for me to finish,” I tease. Immediately, Mindy becomes as still as a stone statue. After a couple of minutes, I have to say, “Mindy, sweetheart, it’s okay to breathe. I just can’t have you bouncing, because I’m afraid it will cause me to pull your hair.” Mindy slumps down in her chair just slightly. “Okay Mr. Jeff, I was ascared you was gonna stop,” she whispers, her chin quivering. I adopt a very fake, very over-the-top French accent and say, “Oh no, Monsieur Jeff must complete Princess Mindy’s look to make the Kingdom happy. Mindy erupts with the first belly laugh I’ve heard all day as she responds, “Okay, I’ll try to be still, but it’s hard ‘cause I have the wiggles real bad.” I pat her on the shoulder and chuckle as I say, “Just try your best, sweetheart. That’s all anyone can ask.” Kiera comes screeching around the corner in a blur, plunks her purse on the table, and says breathlessly, “Geez-O-Pete, I can’t believe I’m late for the makeover. I love makeovers.” Kiera digs through her purse and produces two bottles of nail polish and nail kit. “It’s time for your mani/pedi ma’am. Would you prefer Pink Pearl or Frosted Creamsicle? Mindy raises her hand like a schoolchild and Kiera calls on her like a pupil, “I want Frosted Cream toes please,” Mindy answers. “Your wish is my command, my dear,” Kiera responds with a grin. For the next few minutes, Mindy gets the spa treatment of her life as I carefully French braid her hair into pigtails. As a special treat, I purchased some ribbons from the gift shop and I’m weaving them into her hair. I tuck a yellow rose behind her ear. I don my French accent as I declare, “Monsieur Jeffery pronounces Princess Mindy finished and fit to rule the kingdom.” Kiera hands Mindy a new tube of grape ChapStick from her purse, “Hold on, a true princess never reigns with chapped lips,” she says. Mindy giggles as she responds, “You’re silly, Miss Kiera. Nobody in my kingdom is going to care if my lips are shiny.” Kiera’s laugh sounds like wind chimes as she covers her face with her hands as she confesses, “Okay, you busted me. I just like to use it because it tastes yummy.” “Okay, I want some, please,” Mindy decides. Kiera is putting the last minute touches on her as Mindy is scrambling to stand on Kiera’s thighs so she can get a better look in the mirror. When I reach out to steady her, she grabs my hand in a death grip. I glance down at her. Her eyes are wide and her mouth is opening and closing like a fish. I shoot Kiera a worried glance, but she merely shrugs. “Holy Sh — !” Mindy stops short when she sees Kiera’s expression. “Mr. Jeff is an angel for reals because he turned me into one. Look at my hair Miss Kiera, there are magic ribbons in it! I’m perfect. I can be anything I want to be.” Spontaneously, we all join together in a group hug. I kiss the top of her head as I agree, “Yes, Mindy, you are amazing and the sky is the limit for you.

A box sat on top of Jade’s pillows, wrapped in green paper with a white bow. He frowned slightly. Who would’ve left a gift on Jade’s bed? “You have a present.” “What?” Jade turned her head when he gestured toward the box. Confusion filled her eyes. She sat up and reached for the box. “I don’t understand.” Zach sat by her again and wrapped his arm around her waist. “Maybe there’s a card.” After searching beneath the large white bow, Jade pulled out a small envelope. Zach looked over her shoulder as she withdrew the card and read it aloud. “‘To Mom and Zach. Have fun tonight. Bre.’” Zach chuckled, both at Breanna’s card and at Jade’s blush. “Your daughter has quite a sense of humor.” “My daughter deserves to be spanked.” She lifted the box onto her lap. “I’m afraid to open it.” “Would you like me to? It’s addressed to both of us.” “I’m even more afraid for you to open it.” “Go ahead. It can’t be that bad.” “You don’t know my daughter.” Untying the bow, Jade raised the lid and pulled apart the bright green tissue paper. Several sex toys lay in the box. She gasped. “Oh, my God. I can’t believe she did this!” She started to push the tissue paper back over the contents, but Zach held her hand to stop her. “Wait. Let’s see what she bought.” “I am going to kill her, after I beat her.” Chuckling, Zach dug through the box, lifting the different items as he came to them. “Cock ring. Chocolate body paint. Stay-hard gel.” He looked into Jade’s eyes. “I don’t think I’ll need that tonight.” Her cheeks turned a deep pink. He dropped a kiss on her lips before beginning to explore again. “Anal beads. Ben-Wa balls. Fur-lined handcuffs. Nipple clamps. Lemon-flavored nipple cream.” His gaze dipped to her breasts. “Interesting.” She huffed out a breath. “Can we close the box now?” “Not yet. I like it when you blush.” Zach grinned when Jade scowled at him. “This is completely spoiling the mood.” “I won’t have any problem getting hard again.” “Zach!” Ignoring her outraged tone, he continued to sift through the items. “Lifelike dildo.” He held it up to eye level. “Close, but not quite as big as I am.” Jade covered her eyes with one hand. “I don’t believe this,” she muttered. “Butt plug. Wait, I’m wrong. It’s a vibrating butt plug. Very interesting. I hope you have batteries. Never mind. Breanna included several packages.” “Okay, that’s enough.” Jade tried to jerk the box out of his reach, but Zach held on to the side. “There’re only a couple more items. We might as well see what they are.” “I don’t care what they are.” “You might care about one of them.” Zach held up a large box of condoms. “Oh.” He turned the box in his hand. “I’m flattered, but I don’t think I’ll be able to use one hundred of these tonight.” “One hundred?” “All different types, sizes, and colors.” Jade laughed. “Oh, Bre.” She pushed her hair behind one ear. “What’s the last thing?” “Cherry-flavored lubricant. It looks like she thought of everything.” “You must think my daughter is crazy.” “I think your daughter loves you very much and wants you to be happy.” “That’s true. But we won’t use all this…stuff.” “Who says we won’t?

Don’t be ridiculous.” Only one of the most condescending phrases in the English language…and

I know you want to think Dad's fine with me being gay, but he's not." "But if you don't tell me when people say things like that to you, or do things that hurt you, then how can I help you?" Simon could feel Isabelle's agitation vibrating through her body. "How can I-" "Iz," Alec said tiredly. "It's not like it's one big bad things. It's a lot of little invisible things. When Magnus and I were traveling, and I'd call from the road, Dad never asked how he was. When I get up to talk in Clave meetings, no one listens, and I don't know if it's because I'm young or if it's something else. I saw Mom talking to a friend about her grandchildren and the second I walked into the room they shut up. Irina Cartwright told me it was a pity no one would ever inherit my blue eyes now...It's not like a stab wound you can protect me from. It's a million little paper cuts every day." ( City of Lost Souls- Cassandra Clare)

All brains are good brains. However, information can affect the brain in ways that can distort its functioning. When negative information has taken over the natural workings of the brain, you could say that a good brain has become a bad brain. The brain naturally distinguishes positive information from negative, but sometimes we simply lose trust in our brain, allowing outside information to run the show.

avoid evil and bad people. Stay away from them, as evil people and their influence will always harm you. Your vibrations will be damaged and you will definitely fall to a lower level.

Pick this one, she vibrates!

Opera tenor Jan Peerce, after he was married nearly fifty years, once said: “My wife and I made a pact a long time ago, and we’ve kept it no matter how angry we’ve grown with each other. When one yells, the other should listen – because when two people yell, there is no communication, just noise and bad vibrations.” PRINCIPLE 1 The only way to get the best of an argument is to avoid it.

I tore through The Catcher in the Rye and Lord of the Flies in elementary school, my pretween brain vibrating with a mixture of titillation and pretension. Ahh, so many swears. Very grown-up, I would think. And Even on an island, I would know it is bad to murder a little boy with glasses, because I am a little boy with glasses.

I tore through The Catcher in the Rye and Lord of the Flies in elementary school, my pretween brain vibrating with a mixture of titillation and pretension. Ahh, so many swears. Very grown-up, I would think. And Even on an island, I would know it is bad to murder a little boy with glasses, because I am a little boy with glasses. Books hit the sweet spot of my personality; they let me experience something taboo and adult...without breaking any rules.

Both EVIL and GOOD are man’s components; which one used?—all rest on environment. A bad vibration can stir the evil; a good one can trigger the righteous will. Indeed, no one is bad—they’re just made bad; that same bad one may save a distressed lad. Likewise, no one is good—they’re just made good; be rude to one and expect no sainthood.

Sometimes I scream in the car, driving along lost in the roar of turnpike driving, screaming, letting it out, making the windows vibrate. I need it, it helps me to have a soft belly. It makes me think life is a process of expansion and contraction. It pulsates. There are good things and bad things, but it is always shifting and changing, pulsating. Freedom, an elusive sensation, comes only in sudden spontaneous bursts like the wind that afternoon on the dock, when I was caught between sky and water. It came up suddenly, out of the west when the sun was behind the trees pouring huge sunbeams all over the land.

Expect changes for bad and worse, but always focus in feeling good about yourself, because even bad changes can lead to better life experiences. The one who vibrates positively, may lose something in life in order to get another thing better; The one that is negative, always goes from bad to worse in his life, no matter how much efforts he makes to change it in a positive way. The main difference in people is that some are aware of it while others live life like they are sleeping and inside a nightmare.

Ten best quotes of the book, “Miracles Through My Eyes” "Miracles Through My Eyes " by Dinesh Sahay Author- Mentor {This book was published on 23rd October in 2019) 1. “God is always there to fulfil each demand, prayer or wish provided you have intent; unshaken trust in Him, determination and action on the ground, and when this entire manifest in one’s life, then it becomes a miracle of life. Nothing moves without His grace. It comes when you are on the right path without selfish motives but will never happen when done for selfish and destructive motives”. 2. “All diseases are self-creation and they come due to some cause and it transforms into a disease by virtue of wrong thinking, wrong actions which are against nature, the universe and God. When you disobey the rules set by God. All misfortunes, accidents, deceases, and even death are the creation of negative, bad thoughts, spoken words and actions of man himself, at some stage of his life. All good events in life are also the creation of man through his good and positive thoughts at various stages of his life”. 3. “The biggest investments lie not in the savings and creation of wealth with selfish motives. Though you may find success this prosperity shall not be long lasting and at a later stage, the money and wealth may be lost slowly in many unfortunate ways”. 4. “If you want to have a successful life with ease and at the same time want abundance and wealth then my friend, you must care for others. You must start your all efforts to help by means of tithing, charity, service to mankind in any form, and help poor, helpless, needy and underprivileged.” 5. “The largest investment for a person (which is time tested by many rich personalities) shall be to give 10% of your monthly income for the charitable cause each month if you are a salaried class, and if you are a businessman or a company, then you must contribute 10% annually for charitable cause”. 6. “Nature is giving signals to the mankind that they are moving near to destruction of this earth as it’s a cause and effect of man-made destruction of earth and with all sins, hate, untruthfulness and violence it carried throughout the centuries and acted against the principals of the universe and nature. Those connected to the divine may escape from the clutches of death and destruction of the earth. We have witnessed many major catastrophes in the form of Tsunami’s, earthquakes, Tornado’s, Global warming and volcanic eruptions and the world is moving towards it further major happenings in times to come”. 7. “Let us pray for peace and harmony for all humanity and make this world a better place to live by our actions of love, compassion, truthfulness, non-violence, end of terrorism and peace on earth with no wars with any country. Let there will be single governance in the world, the governance of one religion, the religion of love, peace, prosperity and healthy living to all”. 8.” Forgive all the people who often unreasonable, self-centred or accuse you of selfish and forget the all that is said about you. It is your own inner reflection which you see in the outer world. 9. “Thought has a tremendous vibratory force which moves with limitless speed and, makes all creations in man’s life. Each thought vibrates to the frequency with which it was created by a person, whether that was good or bad, travels accordingly through the conscious and subconscious mind in space and the universe. It vibrates with time and energy to produces manifestation in the spiritual and materialistic world of man or woman or matter (thing), in form of events, happenings and creativity”.

Solidarity has its roots in love, Peter. We can say that solidarity is empathy, affection or good feelings. The solidarity, the affection, the good feelings, the empathy or the love that the beings radiate and receive, is an energy of a certain class, a very fine energy, the finest that exists, and it can be measured by instruments like the ones we have.” “Seriously?” “Of course, because it’s a force, a vibration, an energy, which penetrates the entire Universe, which made the Universe possible. So, it could be said that love is a ‘vitamin’ that all life forms need, and the more they need, the greater their evolution.” “How is that?” “A dog or a dolphin, they need more affection than a worm or a bacteria, right?” “Oh, sure.” “And a human being, even more.” “It’s true!” When I saw that so clearly, I didn't feel as bad as before because of my fear that ... I’m almost ashamed to confess it ... Well, this is a secret, shhh ... (my fear that nobody loves me) ... But now I understood that needing greater affection is not a sign of weakness, but of greater distance from a bacteria, a worm and a fly. Good!

I can feel the meta layers of reality vibrating so I know we’re on track. As a bad boy character, this kind of thing is bound to happen, and you’re bound to be both disgusted and impressed. The thing is, this isn’t just a romance, it’s also a parody, and a loose one. Chuck has very literal understanding of the source material.

Oh, little girl,” a sinister voice rang out in the hall behind me, and every hair on my body rose. “Have you finally come out to play with the rest of us?” A low growl built up in my captor’s chest, and my body started shaking uncontrollably. “I won’t bite . . . hard.” My captor pressed his body closer to mine, and after slowly moving his hand away from my mouth, moved close to whisper in my ear. I cringed back but couldn’t go far. “Don’t say anything.” “Where’d you go, you little bitch?” the voice said again, but this time the sinister tone was laced with hatred. When my captor pulled back, his face was murderous. Tears sprang to my eyes, but I somehow knew that I needed to listen to him. Suddenly his head turned to the side, and I froze . . . not wanting to see the man that voice belonged to. “Damn, bro, already claiming her?” “Leave,” my captor growled. “Now.” “No need to get touchy. I’ll wait for my go at her.” “I said get. The fuck. Out.” “I’m going . . . I’m going. You better keep an eye on your bitch. Because next time she’s alone, Marco might be the one to find her . . . and you know how bad Marco wants her.” “No one touches her.” His body was vibrating, and I looked up at his face to see the barely concealed rage. “For now,” the voice said in a mocking tone. “Possessive doesn’t suit you. You might want to be careful with that, you know how we all like a challenge.” With a deep laugh, I heard footsteps retreating from us. “I’ll be seeing you soon, sweetheart.” A few seconds passed before my captor looked back at me. His face was dark when he whispered, “Do not run from me again, understood?” Not waiting for me to respond, he pushed off me, grabbed my arm, and started walking out of the kitchen. I shrank into him when he suddenly stopped, and we came face-to-face with three men. “Look what we have here,” one of them said. “Told you I’d be seeing you soon, sweetheart,” another said, and I would have recognized that disturbing voice anywhere. “We need her.” The third spoke directly to my captor, his eyes never once looking at me. The man holding my arm pulled me behind him. A move the first two didn’t miss. “You’ve gotten by fine without her, Marco. I’m sure you’ll figure something out.” Moving me to his other side, and closer to the wall, he began walking again. Not four steps later, pain spread over my scalp, and a cry burst from my chest as I was yanked back by my hair. My captor’s arm moved around my waist as he put himself between Marco and me, and his other arm was straight in front of him with a gun pointed at Marco’s head. “Someone’s moody.” Marco never flinched. But a smile slowly crossed his face as he let my hair fall from his fingers. “You have beautiful hair. What a shame.” “No. One. Touches her,” my captor said low, his words full of warning. “Just fuck her and get that pent-up anger out of your system already,” he said to my captor, his smile never fading. Marco stepped back to the other two guys, his hands raising up in mock-surrender. “Until next time.” My

Don't ever think of bad things that could happen, and you'll have a better chance of them never happening. Don't ever think about doing something bad to someone, because depending on the intensity of your mind waves, something bad could really happen to them. Think love. Be love. Breathe only love, and love you shall be. When you stress out, things will stress out around you. Always control your thoughts and pacify any unnecessary stress. Control your vibrations and you are the master of your own harmony

Sup, Bro?” I questioned, gawking at Mandisa’s window. “You didn’t get my calls?” “What calls?” Hakim queried, halting short of the chair. He checked his pants pocket, and I bobbed, peering at the trails of prints in the snow. “Oh, damn, Bro! My bad…it’s been on vibrate. I didn’t even feel it, I guess.” “You were probably too busy with your pants down,” I snickered to myself. Obviously, He was doing HIM…didn’t waste any time, either…I see you… “Where’s Queen?

Every time your mind appears it produces an impression in your body. Over time this energy accumulates. Every organ and tissue and bone in your body carries the vibrations of your mind. This is why we have to take care of our minds. This is why if we meditate we can take out all the bad reactions from our mind and body and heal ourselves.

When you wrap yourself in a blanket of shame, guilt, sadness, or anger, and see the world as a dark place and see the people of the Earth as bad, then you are buying into the illusion. Buying into the illusion keeps you stuck in fear, anger, and guilt.

By the time he returned, she'd positioned herself on her mattress wearing only a Marvel Universe T-shirt featuring all her favorite Avengers. Liam collapsed on the bed beside her, seemingly oblivious to the fact that she had nothing on underneath. "What's wrong?" She snuggled against him, head on his chest, listening to the pounding of his heart. "I can't move." He groaned again as he pulled her into his side. "Everything hurts. My hands are covered in cuts. I have thorns in places thorns shouldn't be, and bruises in places I don't want to think about." "That's too bad." Daisy took his hand and placed fit on her bare bottom. "No Avengers protectors down here today. I guess you won't be able to take advantage." He squeezed her ass, a low, contented rumble vibrating in his chest. "I'm starting to feel better.

vibrates

If you’re scientifically oriented, you can deconstruct the power of words by remembering the physics of sound. Words are just longitudinal (compression and rarefaction) waves that strike your ear, that cause your eardrum to vibrate, that transmit electro-chemical impulses to the auditory parts of your brain, that are mixed with signals from other parts of your brain, that you impute meaning upon. They’re just vibrations. “Good” or “bad” are not intrinsic to longitudinal waves but are qualities we impose upon them.

She curls tightly to me kissing me on the lips and cheeks, her body skin to skin to mine, she’s kind of- like- a hyper puppy… you know- wet nose, big sad eyes, giving you lots of unwanted wet kisses, and can’t sit in one place for too long. Now she is pulling on my necklace, the one I am always wearing has my dad’s wedding ring hanging from it-a thin silver chain and the gold band hanging from it, a gift dad gives me- saying- ‘He loves me more than mom, that I am the love of his life.’ Yet sis tugs gently to get my full attention. I ask here- ‘Why are you not wearing your undies?’ And she baby- talks without missing a beat- ‘Be- because you don’t at night so-o why should I’s.’ I knew not too long from now she would be running around the house stark-naked like always, saying it’s because I sleep this way. I am sure mom will say I am a bad role model, but yet there are far worse things she has done, things that mom and dad never need to know about, things that I can even remember right now. If she wants to be in my bad nude, will- I guess that’s okay…? She is just trying to be like me, and that’s sweet. I have saved her butt many times when she has done bad things. I have been like a mom to her, ever since she was born if I wanted to be or not. And she has been there for me when I was a nobody. Yeah, she’s the best pain in the butt a girl can have. ‘Mommy says you have to get up soon, her hand covering her eyes as she walks my room and sees both of us.’ Her breath smells like toothpaste, as she kisses us good morning, and she stumbles over all the stuff lying on the floor and it’s not until I push sis off me that I realize how badly I’m shaking. Mom, she has one of those green face masks sped up, which is some scary-looking crap, pulls she has curlers in her hair. Yet that’s not what’s got me traumatized. ‘It’s Friday,’ I say confused. I thought we were going to the rusty anchor today? Mom said- ‘I thought you didn’t like doing that Karly that you’re too grown up to be with your mommy and Daddy and sissy… always- yes we are all going this upcoming weekend, glad to see you want to go.’ I said- ‘Oh- okay?’ Mom- ‘Karly are you feeling, okay? Are you not your usual descent and moody self? Me- ‘Yah I am a fine mom.’ I have no idea how I got home last night, or what I did or didn’t do. It’s like it never happened, yet I think it did… didn’t it? Maybe I drink too much? Mom said- ‘Um-hum- come on you two bare cuddle bugs it’s getting late.’ Then- I remember getting in the car, with the girls and the fighting it was all coming back to me, as I see my sis run into her room, leaving her nighty behind on my bed. I knew that something looked different about her when I looked her over, I am starting to remember what Ray did to her last night. Yet she seems to be taking it so well- so strange. I have no idea what happened to Jenny or Maddie or Liv, and just thinking about it makes me awful sick, pissed, and yet so worried. I put my feet on the ground, first on my fuzzy shaggy throw rug, and then I step forward feeling the hard would under my feet. The cold wood reminds me. When I was younger, I would lie on the floor all summer wishing I have some friends to spend my time with. Back then my only friend was my sis and my horse, I’m curious to do the same thing now, and reflect a bit on what the heck is going on- and also on how things have changed, I know my sis will be another half hour getting ready. And with me, all I have to do is jump in my outfit laying there on the floor. My skin feels so cold yet, yet on the inside, I feel scorching. Like- photos on Instagram, all these snapshots start scrolling, row after row in my mind. Seeing bits and pieces of what went down last night. My, I- phone starts vibrating on top of my bed until it falls off the edge hitting me square in the face making me jump two feet in the air. I reach for it and slide my finger over the cracked screen.

If your life could be transcribed into a song, the rights and wrongs, the ups and downs, the good and the bad, and the periods of turmoil and challenges, as much as the moments in which you felt high in the clouds, in love, in awe for all the good things happening to you, mesmerized with disbelief for the joys you were experiencing, all those things would be just and only sounds, perfectly arranged to formulate your own song, the song of your life. In the same way, you must see your friends, and enemies, and loved ones and strangers. For everything is made of frequencies, and everything comes to you in precise moments, to match other frequencies. Everything that happens to you is in a perfect arrangement of vibrations and coincidences. And the maestro of this song is you. You are creating all of that with your mind.

If someone doesn’t want to be in your life, it doesn’t mean that you’re wrong, or that you’re bad, it just means that your energetic signatures are no longer vibrating at a coherent frequency. And that’s fine. Their choice to leave your life will free up space for more resonant people to come in.

Waiting for someone to save them. Expecting someone to save them or at least protect them from the big, bad world. The thing is no one else can save them because the problem is theirs and so is the solution. Only they can get out of it.’ ‘“The fault, dear Brutus, lies not in our stars, but in ourselves that we are underlings.”’ Myrna leaned forward, animated, ‘That’s it. The fault lies with us, and only us. It’s not fate, not genetics, not bad luck, and it’s definitely not Mom and Dad. Ultimately it’s us and our choices. But, but’ – now her eyes shone and she almost vibrated with excitement – ‘the most powerful, spectacular thing is that the solution rests with us as well. We’re the only ones who can change our lives, turn them around. So all those years waiting for someone else to do it are wasted.

The fault, dear Brutus, lies not in our stars, but in ourselves that we are underlings.”’ Myrna leaned forward, animated, ‘That’s it. The fault lies with us, and only us. It’s not fate, not genetics, not bad luck, and it’s definitely not Mom and Dad. Ultimately it’s us and our choices. But, but’ – now her eyes shone and she almost vibrated with excitement – ‘the most powerful, spectacular thing is that the solution rests with us as well. We’re the only ones who can change our lives, turn them around. So all those years waiting for someone else to do it are wasted. I

When the tables have turned, you hear yourself becoming a villain.

Clairempaths are extremely sensitive to the vibrations and energies that surround them. This can be both a good and bad experience as constantly picking up the emotions of anger, fear and happiness, as well as feeling the physical ailments of people, animals, places and things can become quite draining if you are not protected. When a clairempath is too open to their environment, they can find it hard to know whether what they are feeling is their own or the feelings and emotions of those around them. It is important for a clairempath to protect themselves spiritually, as they can become bombarded by everyday life and go into spiritual overload. Clairempaths need to be able to protect themselves, maintain a healthy balance and ensure they don’t have negative energy attached to their auric field.

Your conscious self isn't what you experience; it's what you add to your experience that isn't based on what your perceptions are telling you. This is why the possibility of experiencing negativity in this world is actually a divine gift. There is no clearer way of showing you that your conscious self isn't contingent on what's occurring in the physical. Once you master putting a good vibration into your timeline despite bad circumstances, getting into the flow of just adding more good to when it's already good is far easier by comparison.

What if sin wasn’t all the bad parts of you that you’re trying to get rid of like St Origen in the 3rd century who cut off his penis because he was trying to free himself from his sinful nature? What if sin represents how powerful you are. But in order to FULLY embrace that power [sensual power], God has to correct you or ‘redeem’ you from the depths of your low vibration. And the best way He does that is by revealing the depths of His Love (high vibration) even if it means risk losing His street cred... oh, I meant His religious cred.

What if sin wasn’t all the bad parts of you that you’re trying to get rid of like St Origen in the 3rd century who cut off his penis because he was trying to free himself from his sinful nature? What if sin represents how powerful you are. But in order to FULLY embrace that power [sensual power], God has to correct you or ‘redeem’ you from the depths of your low vibration. And the best way He does that is by revealing the depths of His Love (high vibration) even if it means He has to risk losing His street cred... oh, I meant religious cred.

I experience two nights, one good, the other bad...Most often I am in the very darkness of my desire; I know not what it wants, good itself is an evil to me, everything resounds, I live between blows, my head ringing. But sometimes too it is another night: alone, in a posture of meditation(perhaps a role I assign myself?), I think quite calmly about the other, as the other is, I suspend my interpretation; I enter into the night of non meaning; desire continues to vibrate(the darkness is transluminous), but there is nothing I want to grasp;this is the night of non-profit, of subtle, invisible expenditure...I am here sitting simply and calmly in the dark interior of love.

Viewed from a suitable height, the aggregating clusters of medical scientists in the bright sunlight of the boardwalk at Atlantic City, swarmed there from everywhere for the annual meetings, have the look of assemblages of social insects. There is the same vibrating, ionic movement, interrupted by the darting back and forth of jerky individuals to touch antennae and exchange small bits of information; periodically, the mass casts out, like a trout-line, a long single file unerringly toward Childs’s. If the boards were not fastened down, it would not be a surprise to see them put together a nest of sorts. It is permissible to say this sort of thing about humans. They do resemble, in their most compulsively social behavior, ants at a distance. It is, however, quite bad form in biological circles to put it the other way round, to imply that the operation of insect societies has any relation at all to human affairs.

I think many people love their problems. Gives them all sorts of excuses for not growing up and getting on with life.’ Myrna leaned back again in her chair and took a long breath. ‘Life is change. If you aren’t growing and evolving you’re standing still, and the rest of the world is surging ahead. Most of these people are very immature. They lead “still” lives, waiting.’ ‘Waiting for what?’ ‘Waiting for someone to save them. Expecting someone to save them or at least protect them from the big, bad world. The thing is no one else can save them because the problem is theirs and so is the solution. Only they can get out of it.’ ‘“The fault, dear Brutus, lies not in our stars, but in ourselves that we are underlings.”’ Myrna leaned forward, animated, ‘That’s it. The fault lies with us, and only us. It’s not fate, not genetics, not bad luck, and it’s definitely not Mom and Dad. Ultimately it’s us and our choices. But, but’ – now her eyes shone and she almost vibrated with excitement – ‘the most powerful, spectacular thing is that the solution rests with us as well. We’re the only ones who can change our lives, turn them around. So all those years waiting for someone else to do it are wasted. I used to love talking about this with Timmer. Now there was a bright woman. I miss her.’ Myrna threw herself

He licked his lips, ignoring the shivers that made his body vibrate or the pain lancing through his body. “D’you know, I’ve been here before?” He lifted his chin, words getting slower. “Another man snatched me away, locked me up, and tortured me for weeks.” He swallowed, vision swimming. “I deserved it, of course. I killed his wife.” A chuckle rumbled in his chest but didn’t quite make it to his lips. “I keep him in my bed nowadays, because it turns out we’re both monsters and torture turns us on.” He smiled, but that gesture fell away when a series of hacking coughs rattled his bones. “A-Ask me his name.” Narrow Face stepped behind him, out of view. “Dude, do I give a fuck about who you’re screwing?” Jay’s face twisted into a disgusted grimace. “I want that name and if—” “Daniel Nieto.” His eyesight was all fucked-up now, but Stavros still made out the sudden stillness that permeated the room. The slight widening of Jay’s eyes, too. Oh, that was satisfying to watch. “Turns out m-monsters can love too, and he loves me as much as I love him. He will c-come for me and he will kill for me. I can’t begin to tell you just how badly you’ve fucked up.” He started laughing, even though it hurt, even though his eyes were crossing and his hands had gone numb. His throat was on fire, his chest the same, but he laughed through all of the pain.

Everything that we are, is the result of habit. That gives us consolation, because if it is only habit, we can make and unmake it at any time. The samshara is left by these vibrations passing out of our mind, each one of them leaving its result. Our character is the sum-total of these marks, and as per as some particular wave prevails one takes that tone. If good prevail one becomes good, if wickedness takes over, one becomes wicked, if joyfulness, one becomes happy. The only remedy for bad habits is counter habits.

Then there’s also spiritual gaslighting: the common tendency in conscious and wellness communities to blame oneself and others for not being able to maintain a “high vibration” state and consequently to manifest the life of one’s dreams. If you’re struggling with mental illness, having a crummy day, or stuck in a tough situation in your life—so the thinking goes—then your bad vibes and negative thinking must be the cause. This kind of thinking is yet another reason that I don’t talk about “raising your vibration.” While raising your vibration suggests overriding challenging emotions through forceful positive thinking, raising your voltage is about being fully embodied and present with whatever you are experiencing, and allowing all emotions to flow through without obstruction or suppression.

Light can pass through the translucent eggs, and chemicals can diffuse into them. But vibrations are what really matter. They pass into the eggs and into the embryos, which can distinguish between bad vibes and benign ones without any previous experience of either. A bite from a snake will trigger hatching. Rain, wind, and footsteps will not. Even when a mild earthquake rattled Warkentin’s pond, the embryos didn’t react. By recording different vibrations and playing them back at the eggs, Warkentin showed that they’re attuned to pitch and rhythm. Falling raindrops produce a steady pitter-patter of short, high-frequency vibrations. Attacking snakes produce lower frequencies and more complicated patterns, with prolonged bouts of chewing punctuated by periods of stillness. If Warkentin edited gaps of stillness into rainfall recordings to make them feel more snake-like, the tadpoles found them scarier and were more likely to hatch. They can clearly sense the world before entering it, and they can use that information to defend themselves. They have agency. They have an Umwelt.

Just you. I’d heard you’re smoking hot, and I wanted to see for myself.” “And?” She slides Josh’s Scotch toward me. “And you didn’t disappoint.” I take a sip of my beer to hide my wide smile. This girl could teach a master class in sexy flirting. “After all the photos you ‘devoured,’ the real-life version of me didn’t disappoint?” “The real-life version of you made my ovaries vibrate.

The fault lies with us, and only us. It’s not fate, not genetics, not bad luck, and it’s definitely not Mom and Dad. Ultimately it’s us and our choices. But, but’ – now her eyes shone and she almost vibrated with excitement – ‘the most powerful, spectacular thing is that the solution rests with us as well. We’re the only ones who can change our lives, turn them around. So all those years waiting for someone else to do it are wasted. I used to love talking about this with Timmer. Now there was a bright woman. I miss her.’ Myrna threw herself back in her chair. ‘The vast majority of troubled people don’t get it. The fault is here, but so is the solution. That’s the grace.

The fault lies with us, and only us. It’s not fate, not genetics, not bad luck, and it’s definitely not Mom and Dad. Ultimately it’s us and our choices. But, but’ – now her eyes shone and she almost vibrated with excitement – ‘the most powerful, spectacular thing is that the solution rests with us as well. We’re the only ones who can change our lives, turn them around. So all those years waiting for someone else to do it are wasted. I used to love talking about this with Timmer. Now there was a bright woman. I miss her.’ Myrna threw herself back in her chair. ‘The vast majority of troubled people don’t get it. The fault is here,

First, something comes in; let’s start with the rattlesnake. It’s not a particularly comfortable experience. In fact, a hissing rattlesnake is meant to be an uncomfortable experience—it may even generate discomfort at a survival level. That would be a strong inner reaction to the outer experience. But this uncomfortable inner reaction isn’t bad, per se—it’s just a different vibration. Just like some colors are soothing and others are harsh. Colors aren’t bad or good; they are just different vibration rates of the electromagnetic spectrum.

Luckily, queer ones like her don't happen, often. We know how to nip most of them in the bud, early. You can't build a house without nails and wood. If you don't want a house built, hide the nails and wood. If you don't want a man unhappy politically, don't give him two sides to a question to worry him; give him one. Better yet, give him none. Let him forget there is such a thing as war. If the Government is inefficient, top-heavy, and tax-mad, better it be all those than that people worry over it. Peace, Montag. Give the people contests they win by remembering the words to more popular songs or the names of state capitals or how much corn Iowa grew last year. Cram them full of non-combustible data, chock them so damned full of 'facts' they feel stuffed, but absolutely 'brilliant' with information. Then they'll feel they're thinking, they'll get a sense of motion without moving. And they'll be happy, because facts of that sort don't change. Don't give them any slippery stuff like philosophy or sociology to tie things up with. That way lies melancholy. Any man who can take a TV wall apart and put it back together again, and most men can nowadays, is happier than any man who tries to slide-rule, measure, and equate the universe, which just won't be measured or equated without making man feel bestial and lonely. I know, I've tried it; to hell with it. So bring on your clubs and parties, your acrobats and magicians, your dare-devils, jet cars, motor-cycle helicopters, your sex and heroin, more of everything to do with automatic reflex. If the drama is bad, if the film says nothing, if the play is hollow, sting me with the theremin, loudly. I'll think I'm responding to the play, when it's only a tactile reaction to vibration. But I don't care. I just like solid entertainment.

The bed dipped behind me, and the organ in my chest galloped at a speed that was more unending vibration than a heartbeat. He had a key. “Clint—” “Let me hold you,” he whispered, cupping himself around me, dragging his rough lips back and forth over my shoulder. “Please,” he begged, the word weighty, full of aching.

In narcissistic abuse recovery you will raise your awareness of bad behavior. You will see people’s actions through a lens of protection and no longer tolerate drama and lower vibrational energy vampires. Of course knowing red flags is important but tapping into and listening to how someone makes you feel, is the key to happiness. A drama free zone must be the protection you deploy. If someone causes you to run to others to try to understand their behaviors, this relationship is not healthy for you. We need no labels, we need no proof they are a narcissist, you need to listen to your gut, and you need courage to walk away. No drama equals peace. Drama equals confusion, sadness, and fear.

The night was vibrating with new potential, the beautiful after-haze of adrenaline and bad ideas fully embraced. Ugly thoughts crept in, forcing me to write off a growing list of concerning data: My old dealer gone mad and roaming the sewers; Egbert’s hand—notably short on its middle and ring fingers—reaching out to me with three tiny pill baggies; gas-masked kids dodging conscious thought like a plague; a trafficked tranny more concerned with evading cops than finding love.