Ternezia
The First most Grimoire Page
I, Ternezia, am writing this Grimoire on the third day of the second month of winter, year 2003. The Moon is hidden beyond the invisible clouds and as hidden as it is, I will speak about that which is hidden and that which is visible.
Its not very easy for me to turn my toughts back to the daylight, to that which lies under the veil of the same invisible sun in winter; yet, the world I see should be spoken about.
It was not long ago when I started to observe the world around me and particularily the world as seen from the street; it seems as by now I was seeing only that which is meant to be seen by the eyes only. Forever hurried to survive the time meant for us while we�re awake, forever tending to jump over the events we encounter, we never stop to breathe, as we never stop to blink. But if we try, just in our imagination, to stop for a moment and to turn off our ordinary eyesight, we will see something, maybe the true picture of the scene presented, not to our physical, but to the inner eyes also.
In the moment I am starting to observe my surroundings with the new sight, I immediately recognize one dominant color � grey. Everything is subbordinated to this color; even the most bright, balloon-like figure of something sitting on the roof of the gas-station, which means to attract children�s joy and be pointed by their little fingers, is submitted to the same strange aura, which envelops everything � grey. This aura is not a color, in fact it is something that resembles a color and lack of any color together. It cannot be seen, but it can be felt. It can be easily confuzed with the winter�s fog in early morning, but to recognise the confusion takes only half of a second: the presence or the lack of sun does not make it vanish. The sensation of realizing, as I go further into it, closing my eyes, leaving the sight of the street, is strong: the aura still presents, it doesn�t need to be supplemented by seeing it. The more I go into it�s sensation, the more unpleasant is the feeling � but to really know the source of this grey twin of the world, is required from me to open my eyes and look around myself again.
This time I am sitting in the bus, travelling home and since I have enough time to observe with my inner eye, unnoticed, I do it. I look, I seek; but even without seeking I know that I�ve already found � I see the people around me, I look at them again and again I see � that, which I used to know always, but to realize it as true, to accept it to be true � it takes strength.
I look into people�s faces, I try to look into their eyes, but even without doing it, that which I see is much more disturbing than the grey aura.
I see emptiness.
For many years I observed the faces of people around me and encountered always the same � there is everything that should be there, their emotions, gestures, words falling out into the cold air, sometimes words of bitternes, anger, sometimes just mute sighs. Everything needed that pointed out these creatures are alive and moving. Everything, but yet, something was missing. I didn�t knew what is that which is missing, but I knew how the faces of those whom I named as opposite of emptiness would look.
I never see such a face.
The material world tells nothing about the lack of emptiness, the true realness in someone � there is something else that can be felt around a person, which will point out that he or she is�(insert a special word here, if it begs to be placed to the end of the line by your intuition)� Vivid. That�s the nearest word � vivid. But there are none around. The familiar feeling of loneliness comes and fades away � I have work to do now. And I maintain looking and wonder � perhaps the word �crowd� is invented just because it perfectly suits for that which is the most common for every face I see around me. Every person I see is one miniature crowd in itself; making a crowd consists in gathering more than one individual, but the paradox is that even if we have only one - it does not make it less �crowd�.
The sensation of seeing this emptiness in the faces around me is finally making me shiver. I wonder why this inner death happens to a person; but wondering, in the same time I know the answer. It is the same road I am travelling now, while returning home and looking out from the bus window. And no, leading another way of life is not saving you from it. Even in the most vivid surroundings, losing the connection with your personal vividness leads to the road to death. And this road is special � it has a beginning, but has no end. Once lost it, from now on dead people walk the streets, point their fingers to the big baloon-like something, swear, smoke, spit on the sidewalk, return home and go back somewhere, fall on the street and die, then be born again and start again from the beginning, going somewhere and returning from somewhere � because this road never ends.
And this is the answer to the grey aura�s presence all around � it simply emanates from them, from the people; the winter sky or the sun behind the clouds have nothing to do with it, indifferent, they continue to lighten the world populated with plain, empty inhabitants, and their multitude, their energy, are transforming the surrounding world to be comfortable for them, close and familiar�grey�
We can influent, transform our surroundings, even unconciously, we do it. And so they also do. They need a space to live and they�re making it, like a nest, slowly, bit by bit everyone�s energy modifies the outer world.
I finally return home, and sitting on the grey desk, in grey room, behind the grey monitor, with grey black moonless sky outside the window, am trying to find the exit back to that something, which is near, and in the same time so far. High hopes; but I prefer not to hope, but to know, that out there somewhere, deep beyond the colorless sky, is a space full of real stars � stars that have nothing to do with the material substances. Which are made of something much stronger and vivid than the strenght and vividness of any material thing existing. I am trying to find the road back to my vividness and despite that I know this search to have its price, I also sense that distinguishing myself from the world of grey and managing to distiguish their auras, will lead me back, will make me step again on the road, the true road of life�Sensing something in the spot of my intuition, I am filled with knowledge that I already do, as a short nod from something deep inside me, hidden and yet, strongest than everything.
I already did it.
As true vividness is stonger than steel and it shines with its beauty, manifesting itself before all creation, living, breathing, pulsating and beating like a heart�Our own heart, our own True Self � and finally, reunited, this beats your own heart starts to reflect slowly.