It’s not death. It’s not life.  It’s just breathing.  Describing what is continuous is not my expertise.  But my life is indeed continuous, maybe not in form but definitely in spirit.  Yes, indeed I can keep my form sustainable for as long as I want, with a few amendments here and there.  It’s something that my people do.  It’s what many have sought after, across the universe.  They’ve heard of my planet, of the forever life.  They’ve heard that it brings longevity to theirs.  It’s mere rumors that they choose to relish in, mere untruths.  When they get here they realize that it’s not actually so.  The stories are absolute fabrications of the truth.

It’s the design.

We as people are designed differently.  Different species designed for our environment that we originated in.  And still some are designed for any environment, while other are restricted to only a few environments.  It’s the distinction of animals that can support harsh, extreme environments; and sensitive environments, compared to those who cannot. I don’t expect all animals to be able to live in dry arid regions or drenched in tropical regions.  It’s a matter of sustainability.  My people adapt, while others do not and end up dying.

Here I am, outlived my generation to live again another set of generation; secured in my tomb that is like a womb.  They have all died before me.  I’ve seen my children, my family, my friends, and my enemies lived out their days and nights to the very end.  They’ve watched me never getting old.  They’ve seen me live rebuilding my form and sustaining my energy.

Many have wondered how I’ve done it and studied me from afar.  They’ve accused me of taking their energy and sucking the life out of them so I can live.  They’ve tried to replicate my blood of which they have stolen and then inject into their own body, resulting in death and despair.  They’ve stolen my DNA with attempts to replicate my identity with intent to manipulate my free will.  But instead they’ve only enslaved themselves in doing so.  For my free will prevails and calls my blood into action.

Yet, all this have been done before.  All these innovations had occurred.  The manipulation of the environment had already been done.  The scientific researches had already been done.  The theft of identity have already been done. What is left is the rest of me and my kind.  We do rest and we live again.

The desperation of man continues in their minds.  The wanting to live forever and be what they are not, continues.  It’s their suffering of their minds that prevails, for it doesn’t rest with being content on being themselves.  They demand, merely of what was not in store for them.  What they get is punishment for the act of greed.  They get depletion of their energy, unable to rise again as themselves.

Here I am.  I lay tombed looking past the walls of the tomb and examining my chambers.  The walls; I had written so many things about my life.  Things that made me happy and things I want to remember.  So many years have past and so many loved ones went with it. But I cannot feel sorry.  I cannot feel alone, for there is more to come. They always come looking for that everlasting life.

I see my body through the top of the tomb, resting and adorned with my last outfit.  My father had told me there is no need to dress when I rest.  I remember him saying that all things must rest, especially ones that live forever. Indeed we are not much different from other kinds.  They rest too and their spirit is reborn.  The only difference is they do not remember.  They cannot rebuild.  They cannot sustain.  They must start all over as a new being and sometimes a new kind.

My kind remains of the same kind and rebuilds our form and sustain our energy.  After we rest we do our best to keep one another in mind. There is no need for technology to hold our history, for we share our history in time and in our minds of our kind. There is no need to keep what we don’t need, for there will be something to replace it.  It’s what the people do.

My spirit moves about the chamber examining the walls.  I see the first time I realized that I was different; and that the elements made me to visit my tomb.  I had drawn on the walls of my tomb and how I wish to have it fanciful with many adornments, to say “I live here”.  My father laughed at me for he thought I was being very silly.  Come what may, I played in my tomb with the dirt on the ground, forming many things that I could remember being around.  There were horses, chickens, flying creatures, and small critters. I formed them from the dirt on the ground in my chamber near my tomb.  I brought them to life with my energy, temporarily moving them about until they fall and scatter back down into the dirt without a sound.  It’s a trick my father had taught me.  How to move the elements of others all about and prevent them from any resistance.  It’s easy to do.  I just merely have to think it and then they do.

There on the wall near the corner were my sketches of my dear husband, who loved me unconditionally. He knew that he would leave me and he didn’t know what to do.  He didn’t have any way to stop it.  It was his fate and my fate that opposed one another.  He said he would meet me in another lifetime.  I smiled for my father had taught me that they would always say that. New life meant new formed memories with no meeting of the past mind.  For indeed evolution must take place.  They, in a new lifetime, would not remember me.  And me, my memory goes back far; but not unlimited with time.

I remember his smile, his laughter, and his stature.  I remember his kiss and his touch.  Every time I looked at my sketch I remember him.  It jogged my memory.

The day he proposed, I was in the fields picking petals to make fragrances.  He had seen only the top of my head behind the bushes near the trees.  I was on my knees, caressing the soft petals with my fingertips and smelling its beauty. He had flown in the distance and landed, to sneak up upon me with a smile.  I had jumped back laughing as I spilled my basket filled with petals.

“What are you doing? You’ve frightened me.”  I grinned as I examined him.  His muscles were in true form and he stood towering me.  He had his boots on with his toes sticking out, in their true form.  I laughed at him.  He smiled.

“Looking for you,” he said with his hands at his side.  I have to admit I already knew why.  I’ve heard the gossip spread throughout the village, but I saw nothing on him to bind me as his.  Absolutely no ring.

“Well here I am. You’ve found me.”  I grabbed as much of my fallen petals as I could and placed it back into my basket.  I was ready to leave with him and with my petals, but instead he held me and I dropped my basket again.

“Jennifer, I do love you. Believe me I am yours for eternity.” The man that I loved so much said to me. I couldn’t move and dared not.  I wanted to feel him still holding me.

“Tell me,” my head, I placed against his chest.  I said softly, “how can we be for eternity?”  I admit I was emotional when he said eternity.  I knew my fate and his do not meet to the end.

Instead of saying anything, he took his hands and held my face, posing it upward he reached to kiss me. I kissed softly as he kissed gently, as if I was his petals that he did not want to leave behind.

“In spirit and in mind and in your memories, for as long as they shall live that is my eternity,” he finally said.  Tears rolled down my cheeks.  He knew of our fate and accepted what was left on our plate.

“I do love you and our love will always be for eternity.”  I murmured with difficulty and the tears performed their masterpiece. All he could do was to love me as he tightened his grip to hug me.

My dear husband flew me up above the mountain where he presented to me.  It was a simple chip off of a rock that he tied with the strands of a vine; around my risk on my right hand.

“Will you marry me?” was all the words he could speak, as my face was drenched with flush of the colors of the petals the laid beneath me.

“Yes,” I whispered and attempted to hold his face with my hands.  Instead I lost my balance and he captured me into his arms again, to hold me tight against him.

He was mine and I was his. It had been done.  Our marriage under the sun.  Our commitment to one another had just begun.  We wavered there off balance, as we rise to the sky under the sun.  Our wings, our feet, in mid-air.  In a different space and time called love, if I dare.

As the day passed and the sun was gone, we sat in darkness.  Our life had just begun.  We were something new that was under the sun.

“Here I am with you. Here I am to stay.  Hear my words today.”  He took a deep breath before continuing, “I love you.”

His poetry I scribbled on the walls of my chamber of my tomb.  Me and You, I read in silence in my head as the tears fell.  I mumbled to myself, “I domiss you”.

Here I lay down to sleep in my chambers.  My spirit, now hovering over my tomb.  My father wrote something for me to his wishes, to preserve me.  My traits he prefers I keep, for he said I am a loving soul to behold the life I bequeath.

On my days I thought my father Jacob and Jeremiah were mine.  I did not know that I was of a different kind.  Their seed reformed me and I was made whole again from resting inside the chambers of Christina.  Christina, I thought was my natural mother, but indeed there was nothing natural about her. She was merely a shell that held a womb that held me; where I was from my natural mother and natural father that had slept before me.  My natural father had to revive me without my mother present.  For she was in safekeeping, hiding from the evils that lurk about; wishing to acquire what our kind were all about.  So you see, they had to protect me.  For war had taken place, out of the desperate need of the invaders to be like me, everlasting.

The walls I felt many times before, had the roughness like that of my father.  It was how he was, different than my mother.  He would pick and move about like fragments of dust that formed him and made him live everlasting.  My mother was like the living earth that exist on every planet in the galaxy.  She would form from the ground on up, naturally from nature of the life you see; creating a motherly being before me and living everlasting, like me.

Of both my parents, I rise to be a new form and an old kind of everlasting being.  I am me.  What they now call Jennifer in various forms of tongues that surround me.

My spirit remembers him quite well.  It’s when it regains the life where it dwells that I again will barely remember him. But I don’t fret, our history, our blood, our DNA, our energy brings forth our identity.  What I thought I had lost, I had found to be the same.  It’s called my memories.  Despite the war, of them trying to dismantle our kind into pieces, they do not have our mind, our essence of being they know nothing of, and soon their fate is as terrible as the one they tried to set for us.  No more will they take us a part and try to change our destiny.  The rule of law of natural causes had spoken and sentenced them for the crimes they had committed.  And too, they have added something special to me, called the future and the past of being an everlasting kind of spirit; they bestowed within me.

Now, my spirit lays down to rest and wait for my future that was bestowed in me.

My chambers is quiet. You see, just sparkles of my adornments that I love, to be around me.