Category: Dream Journal

Dream Journal, Hobbies, Life, mental health, Stories

Blog and Podcast Update

Sirua

I am back after an unexpected hiatus. Life was busy and keeping up became more than I imagined. After much reflection I want to come back and talk. I did start the podcast I mentioned months ago. I was nervous but I went for it anyway.

I’m so thankful for my soulmate bestie who truly pushed me and inspired me. I can’t wait for the content and for others to tune in and listen. I enjoy writing the scripts and being inspired on what to write in the script. I want to build and create. It’s been a while since my creativity has flowed into something I felt passionate about.

I know at times I’ll feel overwhelmed or blocked when writing but I know with the support and tools. I can keep this going and schedule content on my time.

Here’s the link for anyone interested. Comment and let me know what you all think! Podcast Sirua’s Serenity Episode 1-Introduction

Also if you want to follow me on my socials here’s my LinkTree: LinkTree

I hope you’ve all been well! I’ll update more soon.

Dream Journal, Hobbies, Life

Podcast: Maybe

Sirua

Blogging has always been an outlet that I enjoyed sporadically through the years. Sometimes I wonder if podcast would be fun or something I’d enjoy as well. Whether it be reading out some of the things I’ve read. Talk about my upcoming stories or dreams that have been crazy again. Sometimes sharing them helps understand it all.

Once I have more time I’ll debate and set it up. For now it’s an idea that’s always been a spark in the back of my mind as of late. If anyone has tips or experience. Always feel free to comment. Til next time.

Affiliate Links, Dream Journal, Hobbies, Life

Journaling: A Decade of Life

Sirua

When I was first introduced to the concept of a diary I was about maybe 7 years old. Putting my feelings and events onto paper as a way to recall moments in my life. The concept was sort of odd to me but I loved writing and took to it right away. At first I’d write about my day, video games I played, and books I liked. Eventually, once I had my first crush (who’s now my husband) I’d include him in there too. I even recall my last entry before it was lost or thrown once I moved away. “If there’s such thing as love. I hope it’ll be my crush.” An 8 year old manifesting her destiny. Now, twenty years later. Here we are.

I continued to journal after that. I started another journal at 11 and wrote in it until I was 13. I even kept a different journal that my best friends or friends in middle school would pass notes on. No secrets. Mostly asking about each others day and things people already knew about us. But my journaling at home came to a halt once I realized my parents and aunt were reading it. Which violated any trust I had left of them. I was devastated and felt exposed. Turmoil even set in since I didn’t have anywhere to put my thoughts, vent and write freely since I knew I was running the chance they’ll find it again.

I didn’t write in another journal til I was about 19 years old. After my husband and I began dating I was overwhelmed with emotions and kept falling deeper in a hole. I finally gave in and began writing again. This time I had my own room and more hiding places. Thus a decade of writing began. My life from 19 years old til now. My dreams, fears, moments in time that I had long forgotten, and snippets of moments whether it be good or bad. It’s weird looking back at 19 year old me. How much I’ve grown and how she, the past me, doesn’t know what’s to come and when it does gel she managed it. There’s happy, sad, success and despair at every turn. Times where I shook my head from how naive and lost I was.

Journaling gives me a release. Once I moved in with my husband. I wrote freely and whenever I wanted. It gives me a chance to relive moments again and compare to the person I was. The growth and experiences on paper shaping me to the present. This is probably why I took to blogging as well. A different approach of journaling to an audience about my experiences and share about my journey.

At times I feel alone in my journal journey. Quite frankly I’m yet to meet someone who has saved their journals/diaries through the years as I did. I’ve also bought new journals for future writing. Tried different pens for writing.

Thus far I enjoy the lined smaller journals like this journal on Amazon. It’s small, cute and sturdy. Easy to store in a drawer and a built in book mark so you don’t lose where you’re at. I also bought these cute Cat pens a couple of years ago that I still use for anything. If you like thin tip pens (.38mm) these are for you!

Don’t like thin pens or feel like you always can’t find a pen? I bought this 144 count Bic Pens and I do like them since it’s smooth and just the right size tip (1mm). I took it to work for office use and left a few at home for back up. Ones that I have on my wish list to try are these Cute pink pens and it has a pink highlighter as well! Definitely love the aesthetic and the clip designs. If you’re a planner like me or need to write things down to organize yourself better there’s this adorable Sakura planner that I love! It’s undated so you can get this and wait til 2023 if you want to date, add and customize it to your liking.

I hope you enjoyed this bit of insight into my life. Writing has always been a part of me. I hope to continue but in the form of fiction stories. Do you enjoy writing? Journaling? Kept a diary at some point? Comment below. As always, stay sweet, everyone.

**Disclaimer: As an Amazon Associate/Affiliate this blog earns commission from links used above to make purchases.**

Dream Journal, Hobbies, Life, Stories

Dream Stories: To Write or Not

Sirua

I’ve been dreaming things up in my imagination for a while now. My earliest dreams were pretty dark considering the amount of scary movies I’d seen or imagined up myself in the dark before falling asleep. I was definitely one of those kids with the nightmares almost constantly every night. Except I never grew out of them til I was in a safer place. Surrounded by 3 cats and a family. Suddenly, these dreams weren’t so scary.

Not all or every dream were horror nightmares. Some were about my life or a different perspective or timeline of my current life. Many things that are unexplained or shown to me out of spiritual connections. However, some were actually a good plot to stories. I still recall them in a fair amount of detail. At times I wonder if I could write it all out. Publish and have people read to see if they’ll enjoy it. Fear and time have stopped me thus far. Will I ever be ready for this?

Maybe with a little bit of time and once I graduate school I’ll have some time to open up my laptop and type what on my mind. Starting is drag but finishing might be enlightening.

Random blog I felt like writing. Lately I’ve been tired and dealing with slight health issues, nothing crazy. Could be lack of sleep and rest. I’ll be back soon with updates and more tarot. Stay sweet everyone!

Dream Journal, Stories

Dream Stories: Haunted Cabin Part 2

Sirua

I’m starting a short story series inspired by dreams I have had in the past. A lot of it consist of assumptions of the way the dreams were carried. Stories are vague since there’s no true beginning or end. Some characters have no name and barely any dialogue. Also some of these stories are meant for an older audience since sexual situations are depicted. I’ll rate them as I go. Here’s part 2! Enjoy

I woke up in my bed. My mother caressing my hair. “Are you alright!?” I tried to explain that I saw something outside. Dad looked out the window. He sees nothing. Whatever it was. It was gone and I was trembling. Had I imagined it? I wanted to get out. I felt this sense of not belonging. My mother told me I was probably tired from the many nights of being awake and hardly any sleep. I bit my cheek and did feel tired from the ordeal. I drifted off to sleep. Was I even safe to dream?

Morning came. It was quiet. No birds chirping. Just the sounds of my parents murmuring. Coffee brewing. A knock on the door. My name being called and the shock of seeing a guy standing the middle of the living room. He hardly looked at me and gazed out the window. My parents introduced him and said they had been partnering with him for a while now. He would be working in the library for a few days and if I could keep him company while they went about their research that he was assisting them on. When I asked his name you could hardly hear his voice. But I nodded and took in his overall appearance. His hair dark as a raven’s wing barely covering his eyes. His eyes darker than the coffee he was sipping on. Skin was a cream color as if it hadn’t seen sun in a while. His facial hair was well kept and made him appear older. He was cold, distant, as if his whole world had crumbled in a past life from the gaze of his eyes. He stood taller than I was and his physique was lean but looked like he worked out at some point. Perhaps he stopped? Why was he so cold? The day carried on with his silence. He watched us. He sighed under his breath with dad’s failed jokes and sipped on more coffee while picking around the food. He would eat half and seemed to get lost in his thoughts. A place no one else could reach.

The library had more journals. Perhaps I picked up the last of it. The man in the book was vague and spoke of protective spells, defense against spirits and darkness. It was strange to think it was fiction or perhaps this man had gone insane on his own. Was the same thing happening to me in this place?

“What are reading?”

I sucked in a breath. The voice was so strange and deep with some kind of pain that I could barely reply. He stood at the doorway. Arms crossed and his footsteps were slow coming to me. I felt my heart quicken as he went to take the journal from me and there was a jolt. He shot a look of shock. It was the first emotion I had seen in him all day. He relaxed and took the book again. “I’m not going to hurt you.” He opened the journal and began to read curiously. I took another journal and started reading. He never said a word. So I didn’t either. We sat in the library til the sun came up. I felt myself drifting and I finally fell asleep. I woke up with a blanket. He was drinking coffee and looking at another journal. He took one good look at me and he wanted to say something. But he refused and continued reading. A few days would go by. I learned the names of different spells out of curiosity. The man in the journals had a wife that left him after having their son cause his “crazy delusions”. He claimed to want to protect his family and that the darkness spreading was too evil. The sadness could of caused his madness to worsen over time. And we were reading the aftermath of it all.

I would catch glimpses of him reading and whenever he spoke to my parents. It was nice to see them together as they treated him as their own. They mentioned he didn’t have family or anyone else around. To be nice since they’ve been working with him for a while to figure out a phenomenon happening in town. At times he would glance at me and even though I smiled he would look away. I never felt as though I liked anyone but something about this man and stoic personality. I couldn’t pinpoint it. I wanted to know more about him and his past. His interests and yet here I was gazing at him at a lost with words. A part of me couldn’t resist and I finally balled up the courage to ask.

“What happened to you…?”

The question was so sudden. He blinked a couple of times and I could see his body tense. It had been over a week of us studying the journals and barely saying a word to each other. He sighed and said “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you…don’t ask me that again”

I bit my lip as I hung my head in defeat and decided to get a snack out of frustration. I sat in the recliner and sighed. How could I like someone who barely speaks or acknowledges my existence? He’d probably think I was crazy anyway.

Tap…tap…tap.

That sound….

Tap…Tap…TAP

I froze. Was it behind me? I slowly turned to the window. A pale hand. Through the sheer curtains. I could see it. A face was coming up. My throat went dry. I felt a pull. A silence around me. As I started walking towards the window. My heart felt as though it could burst with fear. It had no eyes. An emptiness. Why was I walking towards it? The shriek slowly building in my head. I wanted to run. Everything was telling me to run. Why can’t I run?

Dream Journal, Stories

Dream Stories: Haunted Cabin Part 1

Sirua

I’m starting a short story series inspired by dreams I have had in the past. A lot of it consist of assumptions of the way the dreams were carried. Stories are vague since there’s no true beginning or end. Some characters have no name and barely any dialogue. Also some of these stories are meant for an older audience since sexual situations are depicted. I’ll rate them as I go. I’m in no way a professional writer at all. I only do this for fun to vent the world of my dreams. Here’s a sample. Let me know what y’all think. Thank you! Hope you enjoy.

The cabin was old, dreary and in the middle of no where. It looked sturdy and seemed older than what my parents had mentioned. They were old fashioned, the decor were antiques and the fireplace cracking in the background gave it an eerie aura. We were here for “business” something they’ve been keeping to themselves for a while. The college break was much welcomed. I didn’t care much about socializing or going out. I rather be left alone although my parents thought by now I would of brought a man home. I didn’t care much about the comments and wanted to read through the old books I found in the beautiful library I found within. My father told me to not get lost in the books since they were old and contained fictional stories. Stories that couldn’t be recalled by anyone although there were pictures of what looked to be real people. Talks of magic, witches, death, monsters, ghost, spirits and weird happenings. I eventually found a journal. An ancestor who stayed in the cabin to research the happenings surrounding the area. I sank into the recliner and read. As the weeks progressed in the journal. The tone began to change. It went from curiosity and mystery to anxiety and paranoia. The words written felt rushed and pretty soon look erratic. Deep with fear. They spoke of a haunting. Seeing things that didn’t make sense. To never go out in the woods at night. Watch for the people, the ones with the pale faces. The journal goes blank. A slight splatter of what looked to be…blood?

BANG!

The window sound startled me. The wind was blowing outside. I slowly approached the window. I searched and was met with the darkness of the night. I squinted and I felt the hairs in the back of my neck stand up as I saw a figure. Could there be something out there? No. It’s fiction like dad said. There’s no way. It slowly turned around. My breath caught. I wanted to yell. Scream. Anything. It was so pale and it’s face was blank. It smiled at me. I felt As though I lost my voice. I backed up and trip over the foot rest.

Tap…Tap…TAP

I looked up and there it was. Finger tapping the window. It eyes dark with no soul. It’s skin pale. Staring down at me. Was this a ghost? It looked up and let out a scream. At first I couldn’t hear anything. Then it hit me. The shrilling. It felt like it was coming from inside my head. My head pounding. As if my brain wanted to leave my head. My ears felt full. The sound so shrill and painful. I felt the world around me go silent and my body couldn’t take anymore as I felt myself fall. I couldn’t stay awake. I don’t want to die…I sank into darkness and nothing…

Tap…Tap…Tap

First part and any feedback is welcomed! There’s probably some errors. These are more like drafts if anything. I will try to release this once or twice a week on Wednesday as a weird dreams Wednesdays. And perhaps Fridays. Thank you for all the support!

Dream Journal, Life

Spiritual Dreaming

Sirua

Ever since I was young. I’ve been dreaming (literally) almost my whole life as far as I can remember. Anywhere between random, happy, or nightmares. I’m not sure when the nightmares began. I was probably about five which is normal for any child to have night terrors. You eventually think it’ll be something you grow out of. You start to even avoid horror movies or creepy stories. Just to see if you can avoid having nightmares. Unfortunately, I never grew out of it. I wonder if it’s my overactive imagination or my emotions have a way of showing itself to me in the most horrible ways. It went to the point that while dreaming, I developed (well my brain somewhere did this) some sort of way to protect itself during these times of horrors or protect myself from “real” life. It’s almost as if another part of myself talks and interacts with me when I need it the most.

Another thing I’ve noticed. Not sure if it this applies to my obsession with orcas when I was younger but when I was young. I would always dream about an orca when I was scared or struggling through life. If I was near a body of water in my dream. I would see either it’s tail or dorsal fin. I could see it has some sort of tribal “tattoos” while passing through. If I dreamt I was in the water. There was nothing. Just me in the water and slowly from the corner of my eye it would appear and pass by me. The dream is quiet as if all of sudden I’m deaf and nothing else matters but the connection between me and this orca. The tribal “tattoos” are a deep red from what I can remember. As an adult now, where I don’t watch anything that has to do with orcas. It almost feels like something I default to when I’m dreaming and going through a hard time in life. It’s either the orca or someone speaking to me in my dreams. The brain works in mysterious way I suppose.

Anyone else have vivid dreams? Dreamt of things before they happened? There’s so many other dreams I would like to share with y’all from my dream journal. Much love and take care!