Story cover for Unabridged Manifestation Journals of a Mad Woman || Minimally Edited by bunnifesting
Unabridged Manifestation Journals of a Mad Woman || Minimally Edited
  • WpView
    Reads 36
  • WpVote
    Votes 10
  • WpPart
    Parts 10
  • WpHistory
    Time 49m
  • WpView
    Reads 36
  • WpVote
    Votes 10
  • WpPart
    Parts 10
  • WpHistory
    Time 49m
Ongoing, First published Aug 30
The following book is only a book by name, but a journal by nature. The entries that will be added (and updated sporadically) are things I have learnt, unlearnt, and learnt again throughout my 10+ years of manifesting and subliminal usage.

I will not guide you on how to manifest, but I will speak to you (or rather, myself) about misconceptions I have realized, breakthroughs I have had, and my own opinions on the nature of manifesting and society itself (which is many).  The topics spoken of have likely been spoken of before, but what's another voice in the ether?
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38 parts Ongoing
"Want me to read to you?" he asked, voice barely above the hush of dawn. She nodded, nestling closer. So he began, the words spilling into the room, wrapping around them like silk. "Wa min ayatihi an khalaqa lakum min anfusikum azwajan..." (And of His signs is that He created for you from yourselves mates that you may find tranquility in them...) Alya's lashes fluttered. She could have lived a thousand lifetimes right there, each one spent simply listening to this. When he finally closed the mushaf, he looked over at her with eyes so gentle "You look like your heart is somewhere else," he teased, thumb brushing her cheek. "It's right here," she whispered. "With you. With Him." ~ She didn't fall in love. She fell into silence. The kind that comes after you've cried so much, your tears forget how to fall. The kind that lives in the space between heartbreak and healing. Then came Zaid. He didn't arrive like lightning. He arrived like the adhan-soft, calling, certain. He never looked too long. He never said too much. Alya didn't believe in fairy tales. Not after the things she'd endured. She had every reason to run But when the proposal came when he asked for her hand the way a believer should- it wasn't her heart that said yes. It was her sabr. She said yes, Not because she was ready. Not because she wasn't scared. But because something about him felt safe. Not the kind of safe that promises no pain- but the kind that holds your hand through it. Their marriage wasn't fireworks. It was healing in hushed tones. He asked with intention. She answered with trust. And together, They built a sanctuary with their Lord at the center- Where Qur'an echoed louder than the world outside, And love felt like sujood after a storm. This isn't a story of falling in love. It's a story of choosing love. Of trusting Allah more than your fears. Of a girl who thought she was too broken to be loved, and a boy who believed healing begins at marriage. 1 ~♡
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Barakah

74 parts Ongoing

Barakah Amal had escaped Nigeria shortly after the misfortune of encountering Jalal Jali as a teenager. Years since past and unbeknownst to her, she's reluctantly summoned back to wed the man who had ruined her life to protect her family. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .