I am a writer, and I write what comes into my head, whether it is a fact or fiction. I write what I feel I write what I see.
Seeing and sensing has been a curse all my life, I observe what no living person should see. I am numb to it all now, but there was a time when seeing them disturbed me. Not now, though. Those times have gone. Now, seeing them, knowing they are there, has become part of living, a part of life…my life.
They exist all around us in all forms; they invade our day and intervene in our dreams. In life, I worked for the good of all people, trying to protect them from the evil in this world. Destroying the living only brings on the darkness more, and with the dark they come. In my book A Psychic Spy: Recruited, I talk of my heroine, Eileen Evans, and how after each killing executed by her in the service of her country, she sees the faces when she closes her eyes -- faces of those whose lives she took in her work as a spy and an assassin. But what I omitted to say is that, not only was she disturbed by the faces, but she was haunted by what they had become. You see, in life no one is perfect, and in death that imperfection carries on to become something else. The essence of evil is a form that exists only on another plane. The reality has never been part of this plane per-se, although when the conditions are right their plane overlaps into ours, allowing them to move among us and join us in our sleep and walk beside us in our awakening. They, them whatever they are, come in all forms and shapes that hold no illumination, no colour, and no substance. There is no known name for them, either singularly or collectively. Man needs that answer, he needs that tag in order to classify them. And so, man has named them Demons.
Written by Irene Allen-Block.
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