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Glossary
– Astraea's Web
Gateway
system
One in which the people live in
another
world or dimension and use the physical body to interact with
the
earth
world.
A lot of trauma
based multiples and
those with smaller groups admit to being intimidated by gateway
system's but is this feeling of fear warranted? We ourselves are a
gateway system by the definition of “gateway”. We
have our own
world, our homeland, where those of us that have histories feel that
they are based and steeped in the culture, and from there we have a
gatewa to this world, the world from which we converse with you
now.
This world is ours as much
as the other, it is just that a lot of us were created on the other,
and we are drawn to the site of our creation, just as adults return to
the place of our birth.
There are those of us that
were born on this other world, I was birthed and brought up there, and
it is my homeland, for better or for worse. Many of us percieve it as a
construct, but if it is that, it is our construct, and none the less
real for it. For some others, it holds more reality than the one at
which we drum this out, because they were born there. There is a
culture that feels as if it goes back generations, from one group, but
that culture is tainted, because it is inbuilt in one of us, with no
memory of how we reached it, so we fit tainted words into spaces to
attempt to parody the beauty.
My homeland is beautiful, but I speak of it rarely, when it is no more
than a constructed image that I can exist in, myself maybe a construct,
yet I think and feel, so my constructed existance is worth it.
We are so caught up in numbers and designs, in whose world is bigger,
or better, or more homely to them, and in how the worlds are connected,
yet we forget that to each, their reality is their own, and the beauty
I see in the fronds of grass-shaded moss is my beauty, whether it was
created by me, or whether we are honoured for a time to tread the paths
of a world that is not our own.
Many of us do not deny our origins, the body was abused, and we accept
that as a result many will be trauma-created, but there are those whose
origins are different, and I am a child of one of those places, with no
memories of my existance before the world in which I am steeped, but
the occasional flash that could be the homeland of the parents I never
knew, or could be the details that my imagination has filled in, for I
am a child of words, styled in the scripts of my own creation.
My home is here now, wherever the parents I must have had were born,
and my father is Geoff, I need no others, and I live on the Earth world
from time to time, maintaining a tenuous connection with it, just as I
do the world that maybe I once began, and once ended.
But now, I return to the maybe-construct world, with our humble members, through our gateway.
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