Radiance

By Dianthe Bells

On an evening shrouded in the customary murk and wreathed in tobacco haze, I found myself ensconced in the subterranean retreat of the establishment—a chamber designated for masculine conviviality and repose, possessing a degree of comfort quite surprising given the abode's air of declined grandeur. It was here that I first chanced upon the murmurs surrounding the enigmatic figure known as Colonel Forbes. Engaged in conversation were two men, long-tenured guests of the house, whose familiarity with its history and habitués rendered their dialogue particularly intriguing.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Dianthe Bells
• Release date: Sep 15, 2023
• ISBN: 9798223104629

Dianthe Bells

... thus I lingered in a childhood of ambrosial essence, writing within a bedroom of lavender water-colour. The Australian bush was my lilac awakening to the occult; the secret rosy bower of life. Days and nights are intones of writing, poetry and art. Imagination is the bonfire of my soul. A most admired and loved author is Edmund Shaftesbury (1852-1926), whose volumes implode the mind cells. We cannot speak of Imagination without Neville Goddard (1905-1972), nor shall we see within the Veils unless we study and experience Desire and Will through William Walker Atkinson (1862-1932). English Australian Folktales - Haunted Love - Mind Dimensions - Crystal Magick - Golden Rays  - Occult - Ancient - Mysteries

Book preview

A Monoloque

In the expansive monologue presented, the speaker delves deeply into the confluence of spirituality, identity, and power. The speaker's journey towards self-discovery culminates in the realization that the individual I Am I is a manifestation of an Infinite and Eternal Creative Presence-Power. This understanding eliminates negative traits and fosters a positivation of the individual, equipping them with an influential aura and undeniable spiritual authority.

As the individual ascends in life and influence, he becomes a great captain of industry, yet is unfazed by external judgments of his character. To him, his accomplishments are neither good nor bad but rather manifestations of the Creative Energy within him. Money and possessions are incidental; the real mission is to serve as a channel for this ultimate, impersonal force. The individual acts as both a master and servant, fulfilling a cycle of balanced compensation.

This monologue serves as a contemplation of the intricate relationship between our individual selves and the greater forces that shape us, be they termed as Nature or God, and the transformative power of this realization.

The Ledge

In a metropolis far removed from the haven of my birth, I found myself an outlander, veiled in obscurity, striving for a new genesis. My aspiration was to ascend once more the arduous steps of prosperity, by the sweat of my brow and a commitment to unflagging toil. Yet, I was grievously encumbered by a frail constitution—a corporeal malaise that sprang forth from manifold misfortunes in finance, society, and soul. The physicians whom I consulted spoke only in grave tones and sombre pronouncements, cautioning me against overexertion and viewing me as one treading perilously close to the precipice of eternal debility.

I occupied an ignominious station, garnishing meager recompense for labours undertaken. The prospect of elevation appeared increasingly nebulous, while the yoke of my erstwhile eminence weighed heavily upon me, as a millstone rather than an inspiration. Temptations arose for a precipitous act—a conclusive severance—that would quash the gnawing discontent. For the battlefield was devoid of equilibrium, and the scales seemed eternally tipped against my favor.

Reflecting upon those disconsolate days, I find myself beguiled by the enigma of my own persistence. Hidden amidst the detritus of my external being, there must have flickered a luminescent spark of that ineffable Inner Self. Even then, its ethereal rays must have perforated the encumbrances, imparting unto me a semblance of both faith and hope. For it seems unfathomable to extinguish, beneath despair or discouragement, that nascent ember of the True Self, once awakened to a higher cognizance of its capabilities and ultimate purpose.

The Colonel

I resided in a modest chamber within a domicile that feigned gentility under the guise of a 'family hotel.' Comprising an amalgamation of erstwhile elegant residences, doorways had been interwoven amongst them to fashion a single entity. Though still basking in the vestiges of respectability, the quarter had visibly waned from its antecedent grandeur. Former patricians had retreated to more exalted landscapes, leaving behind an ambiance redolent of days of splendour long past. Even the denizens of the more opulent chambers were but shades and echoes, their present circumstances an ode to a lost epoch of greater magnificence.

On an evening shrouded in the customary murk and wreathed in tobacco haze, I found myself ensconced in the subterranean retreat of the establishment—a chamber designated for masculine conviviality and repose, possessing a degree of