An Anomaly

Today's Date

2010-10-04T00:04:00.000-07:00

I remember what today is, and for that reason, I think I'm going to sit this one out. Venus and Mars in Scorpio are about to hit my 7th house of partnerships, and others, and.....I'm not feeling much but sadness, confusion, heart pain, and a flood of memories all at once on this day that will be remembered in my mind--forever.

The Dark Side of My Moon.

2010-09-30T12:09:00.000-07:00

This song has been in and out of my mind for so long, I just felt it was time to write it down. It's what my mind seems to feel like, so here it is, and read between my lines. : )

"Well I took a walk around the world to ease my troubled mind
I left my body lying somewhere in the sands of time
But I watched the world float to the dark side of the moon
I feel there is nothing I can do, yeah

I watched the world float to the dark side of the moon
After all I knew it had to be something to do with you
I really don't mind what happens now and then
As long as you'll be my friend at the end

And if I go crazy then will you still call me Superman?
If I'm alive and well, will you be there holding my hand?
I'll keep you by my side with my superhuman might
Kryptonite"

Kind of cliche I'm sure, but it sums up the "war" inside my mind quite nicely. More later.

My Mood For Now.

2010-07-28T18:37:00.000-07:00

I heard the words to this song, and thought "that's about how I feel regarding men, love, intimacy, and the whole thing." I'm sure it's temporary, but right now, it's me, so here it is.

"What I choose to do is of no concern to you and your friends
Where I lay my hat may not be my home, but I will last on my own
'Cause it's me, and my life
it's my life

Oh the world has sat in the palm of your hand not that you'd see
and I'm tired and bored of waiting for you and all those things you never do

'Cause it's me, and my life
it's my life"

I believe it's titled "It's My Life," by Dido. Not exactly the cheeriest song on relationships ever, but it's me, and I'm am all of the things in this song right now.
Back later.

Mina.

A Short Conversation on Dreams

2010-07-20T22:57:00.000-07:00

Imagine........two women talking over lunch; one older, one younger, both connected, and separated at the same time. A light conversation starts about the new film "Inception," and the older woman, having seen it, tells her young friend that it's got one major flaw. The younger woman's brow crinkles in confusion, and concentration, and she asks; "What's wrong with it? It looks like an amazing film, and I can't wait to see it."

The older woman says, "Well, it's good, but the flaw is that they make the dreams unrealistic."
The younger woman says more persistently, wanting to know, "How?"
The older woman says, "No one dreams like that, no one dreams in that kind of detail, at-least I never have."
The younger woman says slowly, "Like the details of this room? Like that?"
The older woman replies emphatically, "Yes! No one could dream up all this detail, when I dream the dream is narrowly focused on one thing in it, and everything else is blurry, and foggy. No one dreams details like buildings, and windows, and all these colors, and stuff."

The younger woman blinks slowly, and says quietly, but clearly,
"I do. Most of the dreams I've had have had as much detail, if not more than what's in this room. Don't you dream like that? I thought it was just normal."
The older woman's eyes look both shocked, a little afraid, and amazed as she listens to the girl continue.
"Yeah I have dreams that are narrowly focused but.....I've dreamed of buildings, and books, and writing in chinese, and french on boxes that I could read, and gold letters, and bracelets, and boats with names painted on the side, and waterways, and mountains, and rain, and........"

The girl stutters to a stop for a moment to regard her friend who looks.....odd to her eyes,
"Don't you dream like that? I've spoken English, and French in some recent dreams, like I've learned. I've had dreams connect to past dreams, and formed even longer dreams that last for hours, and they make sense connected. I've dreamed in more detail than this room we're in now. Don't you.......do that too? I thought it was what people did......"
The older woman just said enigmatically, and without time or space, "No, I've never heard of anyone dreaming like that, but if there are more people out there like you, I think you'll really like the movie, and it'll make more sense to someone like you."

After that, they said no more on the subject of dreams, or the film, and the girl paid the bill, and they left quietly. The girl left feeling a little odd, like she had just told some big secret that maybe she shouldn't have. But then, no was really listening, and she was sure there were a lot more people out there that dreamed like her.......right?

Something to Ponder if You Wish.

2010-07-07T21:16:00.000-07:00

I had been meaning to write this very meaningful quote here at some point, but didn't realize it was part of a poem, so here it is in it's entirety.

"Had I the heavens' embroidered cloths,

Enwrought with golden and silver light,

The blue and the dim and the dark cloths

Of night and light and the half-light,

I would spread the cloths under your feet:

But I, being poor, have only my dreams;

I have spread my dreams under your feet;

Tread softly because you tread on my dreams."

Titled: Cloths of Heaven, by William Butler Yeats.

Thanks old friend,

Mina.

The Violinist, Her Tutor, and Her Maker. (Pt. 1)

2010-06-27T00:31:00.000-07:00

Did I ever mention that I used to be a classical musician? Maybe that comes as a surprise, maybe not. Most of my friends usually look a little surprised, or maybe astonished that I was once a slightly obsessive, classically trained, and skillful violinist. I was also, briefly an artist, in charcoal sketches, but that's another story. I think I mentioned once before that I have Venus, the goddess of love, beauty, and artistry ruling my chart in Taurus, but I also have a 12th house Venus technically ruled over by my Piscean cusp, and Mars in Libra, also ruled by Venus energy.

On one hand, all these things are supposed to add up to someone that cannot get anything done, is cursed in love, and likely overindulges in most of her appetites. I laugh here, and most of friends who know my public, or day self would likely laugh at this astrological description as well. I have been called a workaholic, a buddhist monk for my rejection of most of the things people take sensual, or physical pleasure in, and someone that is very fortunate for the love life I have led, and likely will continue to lead for what it has brought me, and taught me. I have the ability to love unconditionally when I let myself be, and most people find that to be a rare, and highly precious gift indeed. I would say, very humbly, that my closest friends, and relatives know my heart as well as they can, and are it's faithful, trusted, and vigilant guardians when I let them catch a glimpse of it.

But! Where was I before I went slightly off topic? Oh yes, my musical talents. Well, it actually was a mistake, and I got what I needed, rather than what I wanted, and what I had firmly in my head as the "right" thing to be. I started playing the violin at the age of ten, stopped briefly in middle school, and started back full time in high school. But I had no intention, or interest in being a concert violinist. The violin was a foreign, uninteresting, boring, big, hard, awkward, weird instrument that only boys played as far as I could tell, and I thought to let them keep it. I wanted to be a flutist, and play prettily, and femininely like all the other pretty, blond, simpering girls I went to school with. There was also the added bonus of the flute case being one of the smallest musical instrument cases in the orchestra, which could be conveniently placed in one's backpack, locker, or under the desk in classes. It was not to be.

There was a barrier, or final say in my wanting to play the flute, or any other wind instrument for that matter, and it was one I hadn't considered, even though I had lived, and technically died a few times with it: my asthma. The conductor was having auditions to find out what instrument we wanted to play, and as the school had a full set of instruments for us to borrow for the year, he would sit us down, talk to us, and then give us the instrument of our choice to determine if it was, as he put it, "a good fit." I thought haughtily, at the age of ten, that he must be mad, and that I already knew what I wanted, and what instrument would fit me just fine. All he needed to do was hand it to me, and we would be done with the interview. Life doesn't always work out how we would like, how we planned, micromanaged, or have set in our minds, and sometimes it can be rather sad to realize our dreams won't come true as we planned. And the dream that is waiting patiently for us to notice it instead, and that can make us tremendously happy if we're open to letting it, is scorned for a few ego driven moments.

I took a deep breath, assuming I would hear a nice flute-like sound come out of the shiny, hard, silvery instrument, and all I got was a wheeze, and a small air sound. The conductor looked a little skeptical, but said encouragingly, "Why don't you try again? Maybe you didn't take a deep enough breath." I remember having it hit me lightly in that moment that I had asthma, and as such, did not have the lung capacity of the average person, much less what I guessed was needed to create all those pretty notes from the flute I was desperately holding. I took another few breaths, and tried another few times, but the harder I blew, the more out of air I became, and the more worried the conductor looked. He gently asked my wounded, and angry self if I had asthma, to which I replied with some hurt in my child's voice, "yes," almost daring him to say the words that I already knew were about to drop from his mouth. He sighed, looking at me with some regret, and said, "I'm sorry, but you can't play the flute, or any other wind instrument for that matter. You don't have the lungs for it."

I probably looked about ready to cry at this point, and might've if I hadn't been so angry at "losing" my chance at playing the flute, and being in the orchestra. The conductor looked at me steadily for a moment, like he was concentrating on something deeply, and then his face lit up, and he turned away from me for a moment, and turned back with a full size violin in his hands. He handed it to me, and I reluctantly took it from him, as there was little else I could do except drop it on the floor. I held it like it was distasteful, foreign, too big, heavy, and not at all what I wanted to do. "Whatever was I going to do with this.....thing?" My lip probably curled in cold disinterest at looking at the shiny, warm, dusky red violin the now pleased looking conductor had handed me. He smiled in a merry, overjoyed way, like he had discovered something amazing, and said with a laugh, "You're going to learn to play it, girl, and I know you two will get along wonderfully."

I probably looked at him like he had sprouted an extra head, and said irritably, "This isn't what I want. I want to play the flute. The other girls play the flute, and they're pretty, and soft, and wear pink. What am I supposed to do with this? Only boys play the violin, and.......it's too heavy besides." The conductor rose up out of his chair, and I stood on reflex as well, still holding the violin to me. He held up my arms, showing me the correct posture to hold it with, and once I was holding the violin firmly, and properly in my arms, he stepped back, and said, "Just right." I think I raised an eyebrow at him, wondering if he was one of those crazy people they let out of the asylums a long time ago, and now was pretending to be an orchestra conductor. I wondered if I should go talk to the principal about my suspicions. I was brought back to reality by the conductor taking on the look of a man that was used to a room full of musicians, and wasn't in the habit of being made fun of, or looked down on. I might've gulped, and realizing just who I was dealing with, continued to hold the instrument properly, if only to keep him from snapping at me.

I think he may have circled me once, or gestured towards me. He said "See? Just right. You've got long arms for a girl your age, and can already play a full sized instrument. Your arms are thin, but strong, and your hands are long fingered, and fine boned. You look like you were made to play that instrument, and I think you'll find it easier than the flute for sure. What do you think?" I stopped focusing on what I didn't have, what I had lost, and how things weren't going according to plan, and looked at myself. I noticed what he noticed, and saw that I had a rather easy time supporting the weight of the violin in my arms, the bow fit my hand just right, and my long fingers curled around the neck of the instrument like they wanted to play right then. My neck, and jaw muscles also seemed strong enough to support the instrument, as I later learned this is where the violin is held, not by the hand, as the hand is supposed to have all the fluidity, and freedom of movement to move however the music demands it does in order to reach all those notes just right.

I sighed, and looked at the conductor, who now looked hopeful, and even said apologetically, "I'm sorry Mina, but you can't play a flute, or any other wind instrument, you just don't have the lungs for them. It's either this, or nothing, if you want to be in my orchestra." I think my big eyes must've looked huge in my small face, as I tried not to cry over his honest words. I found my voice, after lowering the violin with easy skill, and said, "So this is my only choice if I want to be a musician? I can never play the flute, and be pretty like the other girls?" The conductor shook his head, and said softly, "If you want to be a musician, this is what's available to you. It's not so bad, and I think you'll learn to love it once you start practicing. Didn't anyone ever tell you that the violin is the most difficult instrument in the entire orchestra to master.......?" The conductor let the words hang in the air like that, and I probably got a glint in my eyes, and said challengingly, "Oh really? It's that hard to learn to play?"

The conductor nodded, and said with a smile, "Oh yes. Only the finest musicians in the world can play the violin well." He knelt down in front of me then, and said in a conspiratorial whisper, "The flute is easy, and anyone can learn to play it." I nodded, then frowned, saying, "Except me, you mean." The conductor nodded, and said, " I think you would be a better violinist than flutist even if you had healthier lungs because, I think you've got more brains than those other girls, and you've got to be smart, and determined to play the violin." I looked at the violin again, now calling it by it's name rather than "the thing" or "it," and said, "Well.......if I can't play the flute..........I think I'll at-least.......try to play this, er, the violin." I noticed that the instrument was made of wood, not metal, and was once a living thing, a tree in a forest somewhere in Europe from the label inside. I noticed that it had warmed with my body temperature, and that it almost seemed to breath with me.

I looked back at the flute once more, seeing it sitting there glinting silver in the dim light of the stage lights, thinking that none of the girls that played the flute, or wanted to were my friends. Nor did they like me, or deign to speak to me if they could help it. They were really quite snobby, and very self-centered creatures. Why would I want to be like them? The violinists I knew were all nice boys, if very quiet, a little on the shy side, and smarter than most of their classmates. At-least they spoke to me, and shared their calculators with me in class, and sometimes smiled tentatively at me in class. They accepted me for who I was, not what I wasn't, and I nodded, saying to the conductor, "I want to play the violin. That is......if you think you can really teach me."

The calm conductor nodded, and said quietly, but with confidence, "I think I can teach you to play the violin just fine, Mina. And you know what else?" I shook my head, placing the instrument carefully back in it's case lined in fur, and waited for him to continue patiently. "You might actually like it, and learn to love the skill, and prestige you get from playing what some describe as the most beautiful sounding instrument in the whole orchestra." I nodded, wondering what he was talking about, and thanked him quickly, picking up the heavy weight of the case, saying, "Well......I guess I'll.......see you at practice then Mr.----, and......we'll see how it goes." He nodded, and said, "I'll see you then, Mina, and take good care of your new violin." I nodded, and walked off the stage carrying the large case a little awkwardly back to my classroom, wondering what the heck just happened, and what had I gotten myself into.

Red Riding Hood? Or A Wolf in Red Clothing?

2010-06-22T23:24:00.000-07:00

I painted my nails red tonight, and in doing so brought back many memories, and emotions into my life. I did it at first because, I had been thinking of doing it for a little while, and wondered what it would be like to have blood red claws for a little while. But when I had finished the job, and really looked at my nails, I felt so much in seeing them again, and realizing just how long it had been since I had painted them at all, much less that well known, eye-catching, signature shade of bright, crimson red that makes my light mocha skin glow even more than usual.

Then I thought, who am I painting them for this time? For me? Or for him? Or for another? I would've preferred not to deal with the question my subconscious posed but avoiding the truth isn't something I can, or should do anymore. Unfortunately, I still do manage to wiggle my way out of dealing with my deeper self sometimes, but I regret it about ten minutes later, and wonder if I fooled the person I just withdrew from, or if they already know.

But in painting my nails tonight, I had to think on that question: who am I painting them for, and why? The last time my nails were the color of fresh blood I was sitting across from a friend, who noticed my nails, and complimented me on the color, and wanted to know why I chose it. I don't remember my exact words, but I think I said something along the lines of it made me feel better, and stronger, and that I had always wanted to paint my nails red. And being in the midst of the sad, dark world I was in at the time, anything that changed my mood was worth the effort.

But......who did I paint them for this time? Myself? Or him? That's a tough question. To be as rawly open as I can right now, I can say that I painted them because, I was thinking of him, and wanted a reminder of what was, and hopefully will be again later in time, when I'm ready to face myself, and him. He liked this color, and so do I, so I did it for both of us, and because, it makes me happy. I looked at the shade, and laughed to myself, thinking of Little Red Riding Hood, and her innocence, and scarlet cape she wore into the woods to visit a sick grandmother, and the wolf she came across instead.

I thought; who are you now? What do you see? Who are you allowing yourself to become? Are you the innocent, yet knowing Red? Or are you the wolf disguised in a red cape, waiting for the right moment to pounce? Am I the fully human girl, trying to be good, or the dangerously beautiful wolf waiting in the dark forest for just the right person to come along? I realized that I am both; a lady wolf in a red cape waiting in her dark part of the forest for just the right human, or not, to come along, and tempt her to come out of her shadows, and play.

I am innocent, a girl, and I try to always do what's right in each moment. I am also the wolf. Patiently waiting for just the right one to walk by, and not only see me for what I am, glowing eyes and all, but to not look away, and not run from me in fear. I have sharp teeth, long canines, and now, red tipped claws, and for now, I'll remain in the forest, as both the girl, and the wolf. Maybe he'll find me one of these days. Perhaps he'll be the one to catch a glimpse of my red cape as I run thru the forest as both the girl, and the wolf. No one has caught me yet, and I get so tired of running thru the forest alone, hoping some man will be fast enough, strong enough, and smart enough to not only keep up with me, but overtake me sometimes. A man that will want to run with me on those dark moonlit nights when the urge to howl at the moon is so strong, it's all I can do not to.

Soundtrack to this story: "Good Knight," by emancipator.

The Death of A Prince, the Rebirth of the Enlightened One, and One Crazy Week.

2010-04-29T02:51:00.000-07:00

I know it's actually the early hours of Thursday, but.....I'm going to write this as a I feel, and the fact that Thursday doesn't officially start for me until 7am.

We lost someone in my circle of friends yesterday morning, and it hit me about five hours after I heard the news. A close friend lost her oldest feline Pumpkin just as the full moon was reaching it's final stages in Scorpio early yesterday morning. He died from complications with a blood clot, and a weakened heart, he was fourteen years old.

This week, which technically has barely begun has been one heck of a roller coaster ride for me, and that's mostly as an observer of the people I care about, rather than my own troubles. I am still slightly recovering from a twisted spine last week, but it was blown away by what has been happening all around my surprised self. I feel like I barely have time to process one sadness before another one takes it's place. Like I barely had time to remember how to walk again before hitting the ground running.

My mother has been diagnosed with a slower than normal thyroid, and is working on getting it regulated, and under control. My other mother, or rather one of them, lost her beloved Pumpkin around dawn yesterday. A close friend is dealing with a possible break up, or break down in terms of a former love, and also in her own internal health balance which is confusing, and kind of frightening for her. And another loved friend is frustrated by the bureaucratic run around she is having to deal with due to the responsibilities she has volunteered to take on in an area of life that means a lot to her.

I feel like I should be in shock, or should fall down now, but can't remember how to do it. Like I'm either waiting for that final push, which I sincerely hope, and pray won't come, or like I just need a really long, uninterrupted nap with my furry companion The Infamous Miss Gigi. I am also dealing with something rather frightening within my own life, in that my hormones, and pheremones are acting up, and demanding attention, and my heart, and mind aren't having it, so there is a definite disconnect, and little I can do for it.

But.....it hit me that Pumpkin was gone a few hours later at home, and I cried for his loss, and that we won't be having our morning chats about what he's been up to, and what a good boy he is. I never met him, but I've been hearing about him for the past three years, and I miss him greatly. One thing that does make me somewhat happy in the face of everything going to #*#* and falling apart around me, and in my close circle is that, I think I might have found ways to comfort each friend in different ways that didn't require a great deal of thinking and planning on my part.

For my mother, I did some research ( a noted personal talent of mine) into what her doctor wanted to prescribe her, and found out it has definite dangers associated with it, and am glad she decided to also look around on her own for second, and third opinions to get her health back in order. I also found two formerly used medications that doctors used to prescribe that supposedly work just as well without the same damaging side effects. They are not as new, or popular as what she was given, but she seemed more interested in trying them after her exercise trials this month to see what she can accomplish on her own. I also gave her the name of a friends naturopathic doctor, which she seemed eager to see, which made me feel better about her overall.

For my relationally frazzled, and hormonally drained friend, I took time out of my usual routine ( a big deal for my change abhorring self) to listen to her, provide Kleenex, and also to give her something else to think about with my spur of the moment (yet planned months in advance) idea to get two more piercings in one ear. She jumped at the idea when she asked me where I was going, and I told her, and she ended up being the one to get a piercing not me, which I think cheered her a little. I held her hand while she was being pricked, and did it because she asked me, even though giving and receiving human touch is still a very difficult thing for me to deal with. I did it for her because, she needed me, and I felt it was the right thing to do. It was nice to see her so excited, and happy afterwards. I also lent her the new Robin Williams comedy DVD with the hope that it would make her laugh, and not worry so much, if only for a little while.

For my now grieving friend I listened as best as I could without interrupting, and offered her the empathy, and concern I felt would help her with her loss. I also offered her intimacy in return for what she was showing me in her emotions, and stories. I almost cried as I agreed with her that we should celebrate each moment we have with our loved one's, or we will live with a lifetime of regrets of which I know firsthand what it's like. And I admitted honestly that I would rather say that I jumped into bed with my next partner a little early, rather than never know his touch, or his love. My friend nodded, and said that I learned an important lesson in one of the hardest ways possible, but she was glad I had learned it.

I also unknowingly, had left her something she generally loves getting from me, and which usually cheers her up, and makes her feel special, and privileged; a lone homemade coconut muffin in the refrigerator. I protested a little when she happily found it, and said they weren't my best work, and that she didn't have to eat it, but when she turned with a smile on her face, with her big blue eyes looking hopeful and said "is this for me?" there really was nothing I could say but--"sure, I saved it for you." After heating it up, and coating the top with orange blossom honey, she ate it contentedly, amid a few hungry questions from other people in the office as to what she was eating, and where it had come from.

But the title of this post also shows another way I managed to unknowingly stumble upon a way to help comfort my grieving friend. I wracked my overheated, and somewhat nervous brain for something that I thought sounded helpful, and told her that I had gotten an e-mail that morning that said that not only was the full moon right around when her prince passed on to the next life, but that this was the day that was called "The Festival of the Buddha," as he was born, reached enlightenment, and died all when the moon was full in Scorpio, and the sun was in Taurus. I eagerly told her that supposedly, this was the one day a year that the Buddha comes down to earth to bless the faithful, and bring good luck.

I overcame a momentary sense of being ridiculous, and looking odd by adding that since her prince died on the day that the Buddha came down to Earth, perhaps he was a former disciple of his in a past life, and was now returning to his friends side. My friend seemed cheered by my odd words, and said that she could see that, and it seemed to make her feel a little better that her beloved Pumpkin had passed away on a full moon, and when the soul of the Buddha himself returned to earth to check on his followers.

I don't know what I did for my bureaucratically frustrated friend, but I think I might have made her feel a little better when I saw the flash of the Scorpio rising aspect of herself rise to the surface for a moment, and I said admiringly, "Now there's the Scorpio I knew was in there." I said something else about astrologically, and also personally being strong enough to handle her intensity, and that I found it refreshing, and interesting, rather than being scared off by it. I hope I helped her in some way, but I don't honestly know what it is I could've done save for admiring her in her brief moment of intensity, and saying I liked seeing it come out. I also shared a moment of deep intimacy with her earlier that day by confessing some things I would've rather swept under the rug, and pretended weren't an issue. She seemed to find it both funny, and interesting to hear about my annoying state of heat, and how I was succeeding quite well in masking my bothered state beneath a mask of calm placidity. Of-course my friends knew, and obviously, a a few guys picked up on something, but I admit nothing.

Pheromones.......great. It's annoying being me sometimes. I think I just needed to make it thru that intense full moon, and that I am calmer now, but......it got kind of iffy there for a split second with all I could think about was sex, and hot skin on cool sheets. (sniff) Having an overactive imagination, big romantic, loving heart, and a physical stamina that worries me about its potential once I finally, and fully unleash it one some lucky, and hopefully healthy male worries me you know? It's not like I don't have other things to do right now....

So during a week that I was scrambling to catch up on missed assignments from last week with my back messed up, and an almost out of control form of, er, heat to deal with all of sudden that left my mind feverish, and my body almost ravenous for....well.....sex, I managed to remain intact, slightly sane, and also brought comfort to my friends in the oddest, yet meaningful to them ways in each one in the moment. (it didn't help when males around me were all of sudden so helpful, and eager to be around me, and I got handed a nice little "gift" from planned parenthood, who just happened to be on campus passing them out yesterday while I was trying to control myself from doing something stupid I knew I would regret later) How's that for taking a few more steps towards my own enlightenment? Eh, Lord Buddha is probably laughing at me somewhere, but I don't mind. I know he's happy for me, and for my small achievements this week.

So, that's where I've been, and who knows where I'm going. I'd say I need a helmet at this point, especially with the weekend coming up, but I think it'll be all right, and I'll just try and adapt while maintaining my footing on the ground, and as always, purr, landing on my dainty little feet.

Good night sweet Prince, sleep well, and may we all be so fortunate as to see you in the next life again,

With Love Everlasting,

Your dutiful subject and admirer from afar,

Lady Mina.

Lady Sings The Blues

2010-03-24T11:16:00.000-07:00

I found this song while randomly searching iTunes looking for something new; instead, I found this.

"Blues on my mind, blues all around my head."
"Blues on my mind, blues all around my head."
"I dreamed last night that the man that I loved was dead."

"I went to the graveyard, fell down on my knees."
"I went to the graveyard, fell down on my knees."
"And I asked the gravedigger to give me back my real good man please."

"The gravedigger look me in the eye."
"The gravedigger look me in the eye."
"Said, "I'm sorry lady but your man has said his last goodbye."

"I wrung my hands, and I wanted to scream."
"I wrung my hands, and I wanted to scream."
"But when I woke up, I found it was only a dream."

I read somewhere that to sing the blues, one has to have experienced great sadness, and sorrow in one's life. I read that it's based on how you feel inside, rather than skin color. Considering my life so far, I think I qualify to sing the blues with all the sadness, sorrow, and grief I've known, and I doubt anyone would beg to differ with me.

Hopefully, I'll be singing a different tune soon enough....

Thanks Bessie,

Mina.

Hypnotic Phantoms of a Recent Past.

2010-03-14T22:59:00.000-07:00

Originally, I had a more simple title for this post, but thought of this one as I finished writing it, and change it. What I wanted to write about also has a soundtrack as I was listening to my iPod as I walked home a few nights ago, and this is what I heard; "Requiem, Op, 48: 4, Pie Jesu," and it damn near broke my heart with both this life's past memories, and my last, which I am now becoming more aware of; karma can be a b##** to remember sometimes.

But, as I listened to this hauntingly familiar song from my past, I walked thru the mists of the city quickly, walking over sidewalks, cobblestones, and roads. I walked with a weight in my heart from what I believe is two lifetimes of sadness, and regret which.....is quite a weight to take in sometimes for one solitary girl with a cat to go home to. We all make our choices, and I made a mine in my last life, and am living with them now, for better or worse.

As I walked, I came to the park, and something caught my vision from the corner of my eye, and I stopped to turn and look alertly, like the watchful dog of my chinese zodiac sign. As the song played on, and the singer sang, I breathed out a cold plume of astonished breath as I caught sight of a shadowy, yet familiar form sitting on a bench a little ways up the way from me. I'm pretty sure it was him, my former love, in his spirit form. I stopped, my cold lips trembling as I forcefully held myself back from walking up, and chasing a ghost once again. I breathed heavily there for several seconds, my hands clenching into fists of anger, and helplessness as I watched the lamp of the park catch his likely unseen reflection to anyone but me.

My heart almost broke again as I took in a harsh, cold, alive breath and sadly realized that......I couldn't follow him, not until the end, which wasn't yet, no matter what I might feel, or struggle with. I realized I couldn't stand near him, or even walk up to see him because; he wouldn't be there when I walked up the hill, and I would be left standing there panting in the darkness, and the fog like a lovesick idiot once again. Chasing a ghost, how stupid of me. I turned my bowed, weary, tired of playing this game of living head away from the intoxicating vision before me, and continued home listening to the last haunting strains of a song I have heard before, as another, a long time ago, before time.

This is where I am, still crying at night sometimes, still living with a regret I can never change. Still hot for someone that is dead and gone, and dead to those who are alive and mean nothing to me. Still longing for just one more chance, and waiting, always waiting for a chance to live just once more. Being dead on the inside is getting easier, and easier to live with, but.....is it really worth it? Worth the sacrifice, and choices I made almost two years ago?

I try and find other things to live for, and those small things help me for short amounts of time, make me smile and forget what my insides look and feel like to me. So I search, and find little things that cheer me briefly but.....none of it is what I yearn for most, and I get so tired of being the brave warrior sometimes, and making do with crumbs when I had a taste of the feast I deserve only once, and it wasn't enough to satisfy me for the rest of my life, that I know for truth. I've had to walk away from visions of him in my dreams, in waking sight like this time, and sometimes......(sniff, gravelly roughened voice) sometimes, it's just so damned hard to walk away from him, even in death, even now it's hard, and I feel so very lost each and every time I do it.

P.S. please don't cry if you listen to the song, and read my words. I think I cried enough for everyone this week, and it would make me sad to know I had made someone else sad because of me. I know I can't stop you, but.....I thought I'd try.

Got Kicked In The @## By Karma Today--ow.

2010-03-06T22:47:00.000-08:00

Well, I think that about sums it up, why write more? Because I can, and it might be good to tell the tale, right? Why not? It's not like I have anything else to do right now.

Today, my plans backfired, and rather than helping someone else, it backfired into my being taught a rather painful, and sudden lesson from two different directions. I'll try and explain this as best as I can as it is still fresh in my mind from earlier. I let it slip out, or perhaps intended to tell someone about my mother's health, and my concerns for her to see a doctor. I realize now that rather than sounding overly concerned, I sided arrogantly, and without reason with the person I was talking to, thinking "we" knew better. Ow.

Instead of sound, calm, reasonable, quiet, non-judgemental advice, my mother got bombarded by this other person, and I felt almost sick when I realized what I had mistakenly unleashed, let out, and said. I felt like I had betrayed my gentle mother in those moments, and listened worriedly behind my sunglasses to this other person tell my mother what she needed to do with little patience, or compassion for my mothers individualistic needs, or sense of self. I felt horrible about it as it was. Then this person turned her assault on me, and said that I must be taking in too much sugar, salt, or fat for me to look the way I do. As in saying something must be wrong for me to look as unhealthy as I apparently look to this person alone.

I'm glad I kept my sunglasses on the whole time because, I know I raised one dark brow in challenge, and amazement at hearing this person build up so much steam as to start to judge me as well. I wanted to tell this person to stuff it, and stay out of my size six self, but just waited for her to stop talking. But....I felt so bad for having told on my mom as it felt to me like. I was ready to accept either a sharp cut down from my mom once we got to the car, or a lecture of some kind but...she outdid me in not saying a thing negative about it. She not only listened nicely to this persons lecture, but she walked away with seemingly no ill will, or malice, and was just happy that it was such an unusually nice day, and we had all managed to get together for it.

My mouth wasn't hanging open out of decorum, but internally it was. She didn't scold, vent, or get mad at me. In fact, she seemed to just as quickly put the other persons words out of her mind, move on, and not let it bother her lovely day. So, I not only learned that I need to check my arrogance, self knowing behaviors at the karmic door before speaking to people that I know can be, shall we say loudly opinionated, and health obsessed. I also learned finally, that it is my mom's life, she is a grown woman, and she can, and will make choices in her life that suit her, not me or anyone else, just as she respects my wishes to do so in my own adult life. I realized that I had gravely insulted her as an adult, and as my mother by talking to someone else about her like I had all the answers, and she was wrong, and needed help.

I also got a lesson in letting go, forgiveness, and enjoying the moment for what it is, and not letting something petty ruin one's perfectly lovely day with loved friends. My mother seems wise to me right now, and I wonder at the age of her soul. But.....lesson learned, or several in my case. Arrogance, and deceit will get me no where. Some things are better left alone. Just as I am an adult that demands my own personal freedom, so is my mother. And perhaps I should work on letting go a little better like she did today, and just enjoy the moment with loved one's, and not let anything stop me from living life, no matter how healthy. I guess my last thought on this is....did the other person who spoke so much learn something from all this, or was it just me?

And I get the feeling that if I told my mother all that I learned from her today, she would quickly, and easily brush it off with a wave of her hand, and say, "Oh I didn't do anything, you're the one that's special. I love you so much Mina." Probably the words of a very old soul living on this earth just for the entertainment value of being human, and the fun of it. It must be nice to have reached a point in one's journey where that is possible.

Almost Forgot

2010-02-28T14:51:00.000-08:00

And, something I forgot, that I consider relevant to the last post. As I was thinking thru what to say, and writing out "A Beautiful Life..." I was listening to "Beautiful Life," by Gui Boratto; just in case anyone would like a soundtrack to my words in their head.....(grin).

A Beautiful Life. (so far)

2010-02-27T00:19:00.000-08:00

Well, I felt the need to write again for a few reasons. I wanted to get my thoughts down on "paper," which helps organize, and make sense of them for me, which helps calm me. And I wanted to put them out there in my favorite way. I realized something rather crazy a few days ago, and felt the need to write it down here, so it would be preserved in words for awhile at-least.

I realized that I have been one of the fortunate, or "blessed" people on this earth regarding my love life, not cursed. I have experienced a love affair that few can say they have, and I have had only pleasure, understanding, and that rare connection of a soul bond with my one lover. I haven't had screaming fits, arguments over small stuff like who I dared to invite to someone's birthday party, or what I'm wearing to his meeting, or how much money we have or don't. I haven't had any awkward morning afters, or pregnancy scares, or bad loving experiences, it has all been a pleasure to give and receive. I haven't been disappointed to discover me chosen partner isn't really who I hoped he would be, and I have to take care of him, rather than be his partner in life. I haven't had quiet fits, and communication break downs. I haven't been that possessive, insecure, jealous girlfriend that thinks every girl that's passably pretty was after her little boy. (and by the way, I know of several girlfriends just like this, starting back in high school, and continuing thru college. don't they grown up, or out of this stuff?)

I haven't been with someone because, other people thought we were "right" together. I haven't made love an obligation, nor been with someone because I was lonely, or needed to get laid. I haven't manipulated my partner with my body, or put my little boy on what some women call "rations" regarding sex because, I'm abusing my sexuality to control, and gain something from him. I haven't been disappointed by the man I loved, nor treated like a talking doll, or child. I have been loved for who I am, not for what I am, or what they might wish I was, and I have loved my partner for who he was, and only that. I have loved unconditionally, and without judgments, at-least in the end I learned how to. I have been with my physical, mental, sexual, and spiritual equal, not someone beneath me in any way, and I have not regretted my choice in partners. I haven't made up excuses for my fears of intimacy, or kept all my secrets inside me within a defensive wall on high alert at all times.

I guess you could say, I've lived, and continue to live because, that's why I'm here--to live, and love, and just....be. And now? I live knowing just how lucky I am in love, and how fortunate I am in being able to find just the right one for me, and have rather extraordinary romances with men that are my equals in every way, and who challenge me to grow, and who I challenge to grow as well. I haven't settled, given in to societal norms, or let peer pressure dissuade me from doing what feels right for me, and me alone. So I guess.....what I'm trying to say in all these words is......I'm grateful, and humbled in some ways by how fortunate, blessed, and wonderful my love life has been so far. It's not the cursed, bleak, dark hole I had always thought it to be. It's not sad, or depressing, merely different from what most people have known.

So I guess, in writing this, I'm undoing my own self-undoing karma in honestly, openly, and gratefully accepting my fate as a gift rather than a burden, and as something to be cherished rather than something to dread. Fate is what we make it, not the other way around. And our destiny's are usually just around the corner waiting for us to find them when we least expect it, and are the least prepared. I couldn't ask for another life than the one I'm living right now, and I wouldn't ask for another one. Mine is just what I need, and suits me just fine. So there it is; my gratitude, and thanks to the universe for the life I have lived so far, and hopefully will continue to live because, I honestly wouldn't have my life be any other way but what it is, now.

Tigers, Home, and Hardwoods.

2010-02-21T20:31:00.000-08:00

Odd thing to title a post, but that's what happened. Last night I dreamt of tigers, hardwoods floors uncovered from under old carpet, and someone's home I wasn't familiar with. The tigers spoke to me, and seemed to want me to pay attention to what they were saying. Unfortunately, I didn't write it down when I woke up while all this was still fresh in my mind, so I don't remember the tiger's advice, but I remember them.

A few days ago I dreamed of water, and black cats. And before that it was a tropical island hotel, and going out to sea against my mother's advice to find something I had to find. I found it in the form of a man's big, warm hand holding mine so I wouldn't drown, and would be happy. I don't remember what he looked like, but I do remember his smile, it was beautiful, and happy to see me for some reason, even though I don't know who he was. I have been dreaming a lot this past month, and thought I should at-least write down what's been going on on my astral plane of existence, if nothing else.

Hardwoods would be nice to have in an older apartment, that's a thought.... they're just easier to live with than carpet, ugh. But apparently, I am attracting cats of various sizes, and shapes into my dreams as helpers, and mentors, but I don't quite get the full significance of it all yet. I don't remember dreaming of cats before.....and rarely have I dreamed of water like this. And who would let a tiger into their apartment? Especially if they had just spent time, and effort removing the old carpet, and then polishing the hardwoods? Probably me, right? Don't say it.

I have questions.

2010-02-07T15:51:00.000-08:00

I constantly have questions flying thru my mind, and I thought I would write them down here just because. Who knows? Maybe I'll get some answers?

-Why is it that the easier someone is to figure out, the less I can stay curious about them?

-Why is it that just because I can understand someone, or "get" them doesn't mean I necessarily like, or get along with them?

-Why is it that my silence has become so intimidating to so many, rather than my voice?

-Why is it that narcissism is so steeped in our culture now? and no one worries about it, much less sees it for what it is?

-Why is it that the happiest places on Earth are mainly in South America rather than in European nations, or my own country which have fought so hard to be civilized, and first world?

-Why is it that while the hourglass/bombshell figure is still the ideal for female physical beauty in the U.S. clothing designers don't make clothes for "combination" women like me? Do they love us or not?

-Why does my cat throw up when I'm nervous?

-Why is finding my own "candy" so hard right now?

-Why do people honk at pigeons in the street on Sunday's?

-Why is it that while I am getting ready to leave the two largest institutions I have been a part of for so long (work and school), that now they seem to be at war with each other, (with me in the middle trying to make peace), and money is the prize?

-Why do most people do what the other is doing?

What It Felt Like; snapping the chord.

2010-02-03T10:39:00.001-08:00

To loose a loved one is probably one of the most painful of the human experience, and I felt the need to write about it here. I lost my best friend, confidante, lover, and catalyst for change in one quick, unexpected moment, and it will likely always bring me some pain to remember it.

But I told a friend about how it felt, and my words made her shudder, and her eyes got round with fear. I realized later that I had managed to convey my grief very accurately, and in such a way as to reach out beyond myself, and touch someone else for a moment with what it was like. I figured it might be good to write about it here, and see what happens.

We were sitting in a dimly lit tea shop in one of the more stylish parts of the city, enjoying all the gluten free, and dairy free options on their menu before making our selections to the waitress. The place has a distinct character which I like, and it feels good to be there. The interior is not dark, but not bright, and the dim light makes someone like me feel good, and nurtured. I despise bright light, and this was even one of my strongest reasons for moving to the Pacific northwest from sunny California. (hmm, we'll save the rant on So. Cal for another time--hehe)

But I love rainy days, and foggy days, and dim light, and candles, so on this cool overcast day, I was delighted to walk into the tea shop. I can't explain why soft, low lights make me feel good, but it's true so I'll leave it at that. We walked in, and found two overstuffed, high backed, Edwardian styled chairs to sit in, and soon were lost in catching up, and conversation. At one point, my astute friend said, "I hope I never have to experience what you went thru," to which I tilted my dark haired head to once side, and considered her words.

After a moment of thinking, I said softly, "Have you seen the recent version of Jane Eyre with the guy from the Phantom of the Opera?" She said no, and I said that there is a scene in it where he asked her to marry him, and before doing so tries to convince her to move to Ireland, as far away as he can get her to go. She reacts intensely, saying she doesn't want to leave, and Mr. Rochester (one of my best loved romantic hero's of all time) says something to the effect of, "It feels like there is a string, or cord, and it's tied somewhere here, right under one of my ribs, and I feel like there is a similar cord tied, at the other end to one of your ribs. Do you think that cord will stretch all the way to Ireland, or will it break, and we'll just end up bleeding inwardly for each other?"

I know I don't have the line exact, but I'm sure you get the gist of it. This is what I told my friend it felt like when it hit me that he was dead. I didn't realized there had been a chord so securely attached to one of my ribs until the day it broke, and snapped, and I felt such pain. As if I had broken a rib, and was now bleeding from an internal wound that wouldn't stop bleeding. I told my friend that it felt like it pulled, and snapped with ruthless strength, and I even tried to pull the other end back, and found there was only a frayed end on the other side, and he was really gone, and not connected to me anymore. I said my grief for the next year felt like I was bleeding internally from a wound I couldn't heal, and no one could see, or feel it but me.

It felt like that snap, and pain, and then like they sometimes do in movie's when they slowly turn down the lights, and leave the actress in a dark room, with only light being reflected in her eyes. It was like that, except cold, and still, and there was no one in that room with me, nor has there been since he died. It's like leaving someone alone in a dark, cold, empty room with an internal wound that no one can heal for them, and which causes more pain than the sufferer thought was humanly possible.

When I finished recounting my unusual description to my friend, she shuddered, and her eyes got big for a moment as I realized I had managed to touch her emotionally with my words. I immediately smiled, and said, something reassuring, and sent out a prayer to the universe that nothing like what I have been thru comes into her life. But this is what it felt like, and I thought I would write about it here. No one should have to endure what I have had to, but some of us do, and people will likely continue to experience what I have in their own ways until the end of time. I've accepted that's just how it is; some people are chosen to live lives like I have, and others aren't, and that's just all meant to be.

Why I Take Life So Seriously

2010-01-17T14:02:00.000-08:00

I was feeling a little mischievous again today, and thought I would write about it in as short a way as I can. I thought I'd put it down in list form for now, and possibly change it later on if needed. But....here I am, in written color.

-Multi-ethnic (there’s no biological fact in race)
-Non-religious, and without a religion.
-Female.
-Of color.
-Introvert.
-Learning Disabled. (we need another term for this one)
-Kinky. (still under construction here)
-Unconventional, Non-traditional, Un-Committed, and generally an envelope pusher.
-Idealist.
-Romantic.
-“Innocent.” (if you know me, you know what I mean)
-Gluten, Caffeine, and whole bunch of other food allergies.
-Asthmatic.
-Left handed.
-Don’t like the taste of alcohol, and hence rarely drink.
-Will not use my sexuality, or curves to catch, tease, or manipulate a man. (actually, I believe only a boy can be manipulated, men see right thru girls like that.)
-Not named a traditional Anglo-Saxon, Biblical, or westernized name. (you can imagine attendance in school; so much fun.)

That's all I can think of right now, so I'll leave this up for pondering, and thoughts. I'm sure a light bulb will go off in my head soon, and I'll write something poetic, and beautiful. Until then, here I am.

My Desires

2010-01-03T04:35:00.000-08:00

I found this incantation/spell/mantra in a pagan astrology book; a combination of metaphysics I had not encountered before. This particular one jumped out at me, and sounded just like I feel, so here it is:

"Something belongs in these hands,
And I know what it is.
A hollow lies inside me
That I have long ignored,
And now it cries to be filled."

"No matter where you are, I will grasp you.
No matter what it takes, I will have you.
No matter what it costs, I will hold you.
My eyes are filled with you,
My heart is full of you,
My will is focused on you,
You will burn within me
Until you lie within my grasp."

This poem struck at my heart when I read it, and pretty much sums up how I am feeling most of the time. It may seem a little extreme to some, but that's all right. I've stopped trying to bend my rather agile self into shapes to make other people feel better about who I am, or be more socially conventional. I threw conservative norms, and convention out the window years ago, it doesn't suit me. None of my friends bend themselves to suit others, why should I? But, this is me until the day that the universe decides to grant my wishes, and bring me my Other in likely an unpredicted, rather sudden meeting that will force me to think quickly, and stay in the moment; two things I am still working on constantly. So,

Until then......

Temptation ( A Fantasy of the Dark Side)

2009-12-30T21:53:00.000-08:00

I found myself listening to "At Wit's End" from the Pirates of the Caribbean soundtrack, and seemed to hear some rather, well, reptilian sounding voices whispering in my pointed little ear. Every time I listen to that song, I imagine using my witchy, and latent abilities to bring my dead love back from the grave in the spiritual form, if only to talk to him for a brief few minutes. But...as my mind forms the story, I realize that I must draw my own blood to see him even for that brief time, and also cannot touch him in any way because, while it is invisible, he is still in the Otherworld, and there is a barrier between us. If even a part of me touches my departed friend, I know I will have to give up a year for each minute that I remain next to him. One year of life, for a minute of feeling.

The nightmare/dream continues, and I rage at him, wondering why it had to end like it did, and telling him I am strong enough now to bring him back, yet he always refuses me firmly, saying it isn't to be. I am faced with a horrible decision that I have brought on myself in that I must voluntarily send him back, and let his spirit go, and at a particular crescendo in the song, I make my choice, and curse him, sending him back to the other side.

But...tonight when I listened to the song, and saw the familiar story play out in my mind, I heard a voice whispering in my ear; voices that sounded like giant snakes talking to me is soft hisses. They said that I can have him back, I can have him back as I liked him just as he was, and at that point, I realized where my thoughts were taking me, and just who was likely whispering to me. It was temptation, yet not the sweet, honest kind that I should give in to, but rather the darker, older, more......resourceful kind that seeks only to make itself more powerful, and has no care for the humans it sways. I could put a label on this sort of thing, but why bother? It's energy, like anything else.

But.....It wanted to get inside my head so badly tonight, it wanted to give me everything I wanted, but when it said it could make him as he was with me, I realized it was a lie, and would be a lie, and that it was wrong. I also realized that the speaker was very, truly interested in whatever powers still lie dormant within me. I realized that the voice wanted me to choose a particular side to perhaps--concentrate my abilities in, and the side was not the pleasant, honest one. I stopped listening to the voice, and immediately put out the response of no, and that I knew who was speaking to me, and why, and I wanted no part of it.

And yet......the temptation was almost burning within me for just a few minutes, but......what would I be sacrificing to get it? I would have to ally my likely strong power source with the dark side as it were, and I could sense the poison such an action would fill me with. Maybe I should just stick to seeing my friend in the dreamworld from time to time, and not listen to slithery voices trying to tempt me to give up everything for something so small, and unnecessary.

But this little fantasy did make me think about the magic within me, and the fact that I fear it, and avoid it more than I do algebra, and french verb conjugation quizzes. I avoid a part of myself because, I do not understand it, or know if I need it, or what purpose it could have in my life. I guess a good way to describe how it feels is; I feel like I'm sitting on top of a mountain, and within the mountain is hot, churning, volatile, untouched magma that could spill out and destroy the city down below if I lift the top off of the mountain. So I sit, feeling it beneath me, keeping it contained by totally ignoring it, and not walking thru the door of magic that would let it out for fear that it is too great an energy, and would wipe out that town down there, and it would be my fault. I guess I see not knowing, and not even tasting a little a being safer right now than delving even barely inside that realm.

"Tell us, tell us what you want, we can give it to you. We just need to hear you say it, say it. We promise, no one will know what you did, we'll never betray you, or disappoint you, little one. You'll still look just as good as before on the outside, maybe better if you prefer; no one will know what you look like on the inside, or what you did to gain your power. We just want to help, that's all, and we don't think you should have to suffer anymore. We can make it all go away, just say the words, and you'll have what you want. "

To kind of put the voice into perspective; this is what my darkest, or close to darkest side/voice sounds like when it creeps into my conscious psyche, and I just calmly push it away, with a firm no thank you, and learn to cope a little better with the pain that has become a very real part of me, and the ghosts that walk around me, and the memories that haunt me, and the nightmares that make a sweat, and scream, and the damned r-regret that I can never remove or cure. The song is at that music box lullaby part, and it's most suitable I think to end this post here but in words, and in song.

Pleasant dreams all.

Returning to The Forest, Ghosts, and a Lost Heart.

2009-12-25T23:23:00.001-08:00

I went to the forest on my one celebrated holiday this month; the Winter Solstice. I went for two reasons, and most people that know me, know that I rarely only have one reason for doing anything--chalk it up to being a Gemini with a 7th house Scorpio I guess.

But....I went there to try and exorcise another ghost. The last time I was there, I was with my friend, and I hadn't been back since. I realized that I hadn't, thought about it, and realized that it had been deliberately done, my not going to the forest, and I was only now seeing the unconsciousness become conscious in my actions. But I went to try and get over one more hurdle in my likely lifetime grieving process. I wanted to be able to walk into the forest without him, and be okay, and hopefully learn something from the experience. I also went in celebration of the Winter Solstice, and to feel nature, and realize it's still there, and I wanted to be surrounded by living things that weren't people I had to talk or listen to, just plants, and animals all around me.

I succeeded in the first, and the second, and felt like I had "reclaimed" the forest as my own place, as it used to be, only different now with the memories of last year. I didn't get emotional, I just reflected on what was, and found a sense of peace, and accomplishment in coming back to visit old friends that I had forgotten for a while. It was also lightly raining that day, and I don't know why it is, but when I am surrounded by fresh earth, plants, and water I feel.....balanced. I feel like I have everything I need, and need no more. I was walking thru a temperate rain forest, with a stream running steadily thru it, with rain falling all around me, it was......better than perfect.

I spent as much time there as I felt I needed because, it was my forest again, and had become again, my favorite place to meditate, and think. But as I walked back towards the bridge that would take me back up to the street level, and civilization I caught sight of an older man with light blond hair, a ball cap, jeans, and white tennis shoes quickly making his way along a dirt cliff. I turned immediately to get a better look at him since there was no one else around, and he disappeared. I quickly realized that the man I had plainly seen walking quickly along was not a normal man, and was probably a ghost. I wondered why I had seen him, not being afraid, just curious, and thought about it all the way to the streetcar stop that took me back into the main part of the city.

As I thought more, and more on it, I realized that I have been seeing people, and creatures out of the corner of my eyes for a while now, and I wondered why that was. Yeah, I'm the great granddaughter of a rather intense voodoo priestess, and devout Catholic rolled into one, and in theory I'm her predecessor, but......what was with all the ghost traffic all of a sudden? I hadn't tried any spells to see the other side or........? I remembered seeing mostly dark shapes scurry past me, or move around me, and they have all been harmless, and seemingly just as busy as I usually am in trying to get things done in one day. The man was the first fully formed human I had ever seen, and while he also meant no harm, I still wondered.

And what did I realize in my thoughts? I have been communicating with the Otherworld, and for over a year now, thru my friend who I still miss greatly. I realized that I probably have had one foot in the Otherworld just in case he "calls", and the other in the physical world. This could account for quite a lot when I really think about it. The dreams, nightmares, lack of appetite, odd sleep patterns.... I realized with a jolt that I probably wasn't fully with it on the physical plane, and that the death of my friend caused me to throw a part of myself into the spiritual plane for many reasons. And now? I'm wondering how much I need that part of my back right this second. Should I let it come back to me so I can try, and be whole again, or do I want to keep walking thru the spiritual rush hour traffic at the same time I am dealing with human rush hour as well? Would it really help me sleep better, and give me a better life?

I could say I'm fine, but......we all know that's a lie. I haven't been fine in so long I don't fully remember what being fine was like. I don't fear the creatures I encounter, and give them as much respect, and privacy as they politely give me. My trusty ghost monitor feline familiar is also quite useful in that if I do see something, she is usually quite unconcerned for it, and since it doesn't set her off, I don't worry about it. But....I don't think I want to be a bridge between the worlds anymore, and yet.....I am having a hard time finding reasons to keep both feet on earth. I have happy moments in my life, sure, but......not like before. Maybe I'm just still grieving, and this is part of my process. I'm not afraid of what I see because, I guess it's because I'm who I am, and have been surrounded by magic, and strange happenings since I was born.

So, this is where I am. A halfling, living in a half world. I am pretty sure my friend has reincarnated, and I cannot, and could not find him if I wanted to but getting that part of myself to come back here is rather difficult. It doesn't care, and doesn't want to come back. It wants to stay on the spiritual plane, and not have to deal with mundane human stuff. It would rather be alone, and calm, than alone and harried. Perhaps, my 12th house Venus just decided for me that love is too rough, and it took itself to the spiritual plane to stay with my spirit.

The main problem with this theory is that if this is what happened, my heart left to go live on the spiritual plane. I only have three planets in fire signs, and one of them is my Venus in Aries, so....it could be surmised that I feel separated from not only my heart, but also my passion, and fire for life, and what does that leave me with? That actually makes sense to me, but......is that it? Does that mean I have learned an important lesson, and part of my karma is complete? For the sake of tomorrow, I hope not. Why? I haven't the slightest clue. Looking into the future isn't something I do anymore, it's too sad sometimes, and too confusing others. And in six minutes, it will be midnight, thank goddess. (hehe) Never mind. I wonder if there's a scientific, or technical term for this sort of thing.....

P.S. The other two planets? One is Uranus in Sagittarius in my 7th house of Scorpio, marriage, and partnerships, and the third is Neptune the sea god in Sagittarius in my 8th house of sex, death, and other people's money. Not exactly easy energies to work with, or have at my fingertips. The only thing I don't have is something in Leo, but believe me......I have almost had my fill of Leo's in all their incarnations. I grew up with a family of lunar Leo's; it was all about the hair, looks, sports, and enjoying the sun. And I moved up here....how odd!

A Lightbulb, and Lost Wishes

2009-12-20T18:55:00.001-08:00

I slept with the light on last night. Well, briefly for a few hours anyway. I'm not getting any better am I? Why can't I get better? Will I ever really improve from this?

I have had nightmares every night for the last week that I can recall, and they scare me. I've started to loose my appetite, and my mind wanders as if it's lost in a fog at sea. I feel isolated, and have no one right now I can really talk with. My stomach more easily disrupts over the slightest worry, and I almost don't have the energy, and the focus to adjust my thoughts sometimes.

But I slept briefly with the light on in my bedroom, and when I woke up like that, a small hurt voice inside me really wanted me to keep it on until dawn. I've never done that before. I don't sleep well, I don't enjoy food as much as I used to, and I don't talk as much as I used to. Very little of the little I have satisfies me anymore, and I don't know what I should do next to try and find satisfaction again.

What I do know right now, is that I'm not going to get my latest wish granted. Over the summer, I wished for another lover/friend to come into my life by Christmas, and it's not going to happen. I thought Christmas was a reasonable amount of time from August, but I guess not really. Maybe I'll sleep the rest of the night with the light on...just this once.

My Path As I See It.

2009-12-15T22:47:00.000-08:00

Today I got into another argument/debate with my sometimes friend sometimes enemy. I admit I kind of pushed it, but I guess I hoped that the person I was talking to had evolved somewhat in the last month. I was sadly mistaken.

This person is an odd one, and yet I know our lives have been intertwined before this, and who knows how many times. What I do know is that we seem to be learning a lot from each other, with me teaching her how to be humble, observant, and calm. And she is teaching me patience for her behaviors, calm, and a slightly more aggressive outlook. But today, I wanted to snap at her so badly, but as usual, she had the last word. It is a lesson to me again to just accept her shortcomings as they are, and not bring up topics for which I know she will reply negatively with.

The subject today was religion, and the Christian holiday of Christmas. It's funny really that whenever I put it like that, most people look confused, and say it's nothing of the kind, and it's just a common holiday. When I take it as step further, and point out that only Christian nations, or peoples celebrate it, and that there are entire countries where it's not even observed, they remind me of what I've been told childrens' faces look like when you tell them there's no Santa Claus.

Funny how perspective can shift one's thinking, and how life experiences can totally color one's personal outlook on life. Before I spoke to my friend/enemy I was reading thru a rare astrology book I managed to buy not too long ago. It's got see thru pages they're so thin, but I consider it quite valuable for the rare in depth knowledge it provides in relation to retrograde natal planets, and intercepted natal planets alike. But in reading thru it right before entering into a conversation with this person, I read the passage;

"Any planet, when retrograde, represents a function of personality operating against the normal tide of social trends. Retrogrades often manifest in personality as feelings of not " 'fitting in' '' with society's mainstream."

"Retrograde planets imply a need to slow down, back up, and research (re-search). People born with retrograde planets realize that there is more to any situation than what is apparent on the surface. This lead to introspection and investigation."

"A part of you cannot conform to the basic ideas (Mercury), values (Venus), physical drives (Mars), aspirations (Jupiter), or rules (Saturn) of your society. The normal means by which people develop these energies do not work for you."

I have three out of the five planets listed above, and even more if I count my outer planets of Neptune, Uranus, and Pluto. It makes perfect sense, but.....it can get awfully lonely, and tiring being faced with ignorance, and insults which are spewed from the "normal" mainstream of society, which of-course has the majority to back it up. Sometimes, I wonder if I will simply remain without a true friend, and confidant indefinitely. I don't do things the way most people do, in fact I rarely do anything in any part of my life like most people would. That was part of the reasoning behind naming this particular blog; I am a walking Anomaly, an exception, incongruity, and a rarity to put it nicely.

What I am not, if I use the thesaurus' antonyms for help is a conformity, normality, standard, or regular, and....while I cannot be someone I am not, and have had too much experience doing just that, it is a fairly solitary, lonely existence I lead. Sometimes I am sure it is by choice, and yet, when I stop comparing myself to the more normal people, and the normal ways they do things, I find that it is just a highly solitary life that I lead. But.....I get so tired of hearing the norm insult me, and say things that are totally backed by society as being acceptable when in reality, if things were reversed I would be considered highly insulting, and socially out of bounds. Perhaps I should just try and calm down, and maybe a solution to my friend/enemies problems with me will come to me in my dreams. There must be something I can say that will shut her malice off, something simply, not rude, and to the point.

Need I Say More?

2009-12-09T22:01:00.000-08:00

"Often when a drug addict stops using, they do not feel worthy of love from people who were never drug users. A former drug addict who is a compulsive people pleaser will normally surround themselves with people who have similar problems and who accept their dysfunctions. They usually have an inability to cope around people they view as better than themselves. It is hard to get better when you surround yourself with sick people; so the cycle of mental dysfunction continues."

-and-

"There is no person better or worse than another. There are only people who have more awareness of themselves and the ability to be real with themselves and with others. People who love themselves do not crumble when others misunderstand or criticize them. They have matured to the place of recognizing that acceptance comes from within. Sometimes saying “no” can be the most empowering word a person can say to another person. At the very root of people pleasing is the shame a person feels about themselves. How one see’s themselves in reference to others really matters for overall mental wellness."

A Fairy Tale of Fate Pt. 2

2009-12-09T21:17:00.001-08:00

So the girl lived, and she was indeed granted all the gifts the faeries who were really Fate and Destiny in disguise promised her. But as always, there was a catch to all this because, as we know, nothing is given without something being lost somewhere. In return for each gift, including the cat life gift as the two magical women called it, the girl we'll call Beauty, had to maintain the universal balance by giving something up, or creating tension in each gift she got.

In exchange for the tremendous gift of living a rather death defying life, the girl accepted the physical pain associated with her birth, and infancy. She accepted the respirator scar she carries with her today as an adult which freaks out the few who have seen it, save for her former friend. Beauty accepted the total, and irreversible scaring associated with the respirator that brought her back to life as a baby, and the potentially fatal asthma that it gave her for a lifetime. She accepted the medications she would always be reliant on, the knowledge that she would never be like her peers, and would never know what it was like to run, or hit the proverbial wall that runners hit. She accepted the two needles that were put into her head, and foot at birth to feed her, and which also created scars that she would see for a lifetime. She accepted the pain of asthma attacks, and the feelings of being helplessly choked by her own body when they hit her.

In exchange for the gift of physical beauty, sensuality, and an intensely felt heart, the girl accepted the tremendous pain that her emotions would cause her, and the backlash from her fellow women regarding her exotic looks. While she felt everything to the depths of her soul, she also felt pain at levels that many didn't understand, or relate to.

In exchange for the gift of being able to love unconditionally, and fully any being that comes into her life and speaks her hearts language, the girl accepted the flip side that she would only rarely in her lifetime find beings that spoke her hearts language, and who she felt needed her unconditional love.

In exchange for her ability to see the future, and see things in her dreams, the girl accepted the nightmares that plagued her horribly as a child as the otherworld came clawing it's way thru her mind, and scared her to night sweats, terrors, and screams in her sleep. She still has these nightmares sometimes, and they still scare her so badly that she usually is violently sick, and doesn't go back to sleep that night, and doesn't trust sleep for a few nights afterwards. In return for being able to see the future, the girl also accepted the ability to see someone's end time as well, and this brought her great sorrow with it's knowledge.

In exchange for the gift of attracting any potential mate she desired, the girl accepted that she would almost never encounter a man she felt could be her mate, and spent much of her life alone watching the rest of the world meet, and fall in love like it was the easiest thing in the world.

In exchange for her beautiful teeth, Beauty accepted the pain of a rare genetic condition which gave her highly malformed teeth as a child, which required a rigorous, and often painful process of braces, and jaw work. The girl learned to sleep with a metal cage over her face as a child which, reshaped her jaws, and changed her facial structure permanently. I'm sure that having to put such a device over her face each night for years also had a rather frightening effect on the girl's sense of self. She accepted that she would be taunted, and marginalized in society for her metal mouth, and rather shy temperament.

In exchange for being made the successor, and recipient of her ancestor mother's powerful magical legacy, Beauty accepted the nightmares of demons coming for her as a child, and ripping her mind apart for days afterwards. She accepted the knowledge that with great power comes great responsibility, and she realized that it would take a long time for her to trust the tremendous power she was given, and trust her abilities to control and use it for good, and not evil. Ironically, her other female relatives in this line also had their own share of power, and had what the girl lacked; confidence, and the knowledge that all was really possible, and easily achieved thru magic. The girl was granted power that likely eclipsed her female relatives combined, but had to learn confidence, wisdom, and restraint for herself in order to wield such forces on her own.

And this is pretty much where the girl called Beauty is now. Her name really is Beauty, and this story is quite true. The magical parts can be rethought to something more rational if needed by the audience, but this is how the girl told the tale. She accepted pain and suffering along with her gifts, and I think she did it all because, she wanted to live so much, that no price seemed too steep. The girls rather death defying experiences balanced out in the realm of her life by bringing her situations that brought so much pain to her small form that she consciously thought of the darkest solutions possible in order to make the pain stop seething within her.

While she has the gift of cat lives, she also has the balance of living a life that challenges her to do just that sometimes; continue living voluntarily. While she has experienced love affairs that make people's mouths fall open in awe, and say "it's like a fairytale or something," she has paid the balance in losing her loves to early, quick, and unexpected deaths. And while she is seen by the medical profession as a walking miracle, she carries the scars of her first battle with death both outwardly in the form of needle, and respirator scars, and inwardly with scarred lungs, and a nervous system that fights things like food, and antibiotics like they are the enemy.

And from all this the girl grew up to become quite strong willed, and carried with her an indomitable fighting spirit which manifested to some as what she had heard called 'presence,' and 'the willpower of a Buddhist monk.' I'd leave off the Buddhist part, since I don't think I am even close to their level of inner peace, but I don't doubt that I could reach it if I really gave it some work. Oops! Did I just give myself away? I think I did. Hmm, that does present a problem doesn't it?..... (low laugh) But what has all this taught me? That the old saying of that which doesn't kill me makes me stronger is more than true, and I have a small lifetime to prove its validity with.

I have been scared by demons, put to bed and comforted by ghosts and angels, gone toe to toe with death, and learned many important lessons in the hardest, and sometimes painful ways possible. So running into another human that doesn't like me, or is arrogant, disdainful, petty, or emotionally cold doesn't really faze me that much anymore. Should we start from the beginning of our tale to try and show them my perspective? Eh, it'd probably just freak 'em out like most humans. But then.....

These Are A Few Of My Favorite Things; An Ode To The Service Industry

2009-11-28T09:59:00.000-08:00

This blog post is a work in progress as of now, since I want to be able to have as much data to compose my lyrics as possible. (low laugh) But I can assure you it will be clean, and to the point. And if anyone could write a song like this, I think that person would be me. I've got to have some fun thru the holiday season, don't I?

A Fairy Tale of Fate Pt. 1

2009-11-26T21:10:00.000-08:00

If you need a soundtrack, or theme song to hear along with this story, I would suggest the title song from Beauty and The Beast, with or without the lyrics. But I am going to try, and organize the light speed fast tornado of words, and sentences in my mind, and slow them down long enough to write them down coherently. This might not work, but a rough draft would be a start.

Once upon a time, a soul decided to come down to Earth in the form of a tiny girl that fought to live with her first breath. The girl was born when her soul needed her to be born, but she found that it was too early for her body to handle completely, and she was born still, and fought each day of her infancy to live. The girl grew tired so many times, and yet refused to give up, sensing that there was a very good reason she had chosen to return to Earth again. Her soul floated between worlds, and even her mother watched her stay somewhere between Earth, and the Sky much of the time she was in the hospital.

The girl realized that if she wanted to live, she would need some help, and when she thought of it, her higher soul, and spiritual aids visited her in the form of two young faeries hovering over her cradle. The girl was so tired, as she told the faeries her dilemma, and wishes. She didn't want to go back to the universal realm, she needed to stay and do whatever she was sent down to Earth to do. The faeries nodded, and said,
"We can help you, we can give you the ability to overcome death, and even chose your death, but we ask that you allow us to give you some additional gifts as well. The girl nodded, thinking she would find a way to live with whatever the faeries gave her in exchange for life, and the ability to overcome death many times over. The faeries grinned, saying they liked to call it "cat lives," and that's kind of what they were; the ability to die, or almost die, and come back to life after a short while. It also gave her the ability to instinctively save herself from a near death experience. The faeries gave the girl the necessary strength of soul to survive thru her physical ordeals, and said slowly,
"And now our payment; we would like your promise that you will accept the gifts we will give you in return for life, and not deny us."
The girl nodded, saying slowly, "You have my word, I will accept them all."
The faeries nodded, then one right after the other gave her what they wanted to.
"We gift you with physical beauty, allure, and a highly sensual nature. You will feel intensely, and you will find pleasure in intense ways."
"We gift you with the ability to see the future thru your dreams, and thru visions in waking hours."
The girl nodded, listening to the faeries soothing words.
"We will gift you with the rare ability to love unconditionally, and fully any being that comes into your life, and speaks your hearts language."
"You will have the gift of attraction, with the ability to attract anyone you desire into your life as a mate."
"You shall have the magical powers of your ancestor mother. As she feels you are the best choice as her successor for the magic that pulses within your female family bloodline, and has for centuries."
"We shall bestow on you perfect teeth, and a beautiful smile."

The girl sighed when the faeries were finished, and said that they were too generous to give her the ability to fight off death, and all the other wonderful things they insisted on giving her. The faeries merely nodded, and said in slightly sad voices good night to the girl who didn't understand, and bowed their heads before leaving her alone in her new hospital crib to start her new life.
But as always, there is a catch to the gifts we receive, and some have heavier price tags than others. What the faeries couldn't, and didn't tell their young bodied charge was how old she really was, and what she would pay in return for her gifts throughout her lifetime.

The soul of this particular girl was one of the elder souls that needed to come down to Earth to take care of some karmic debts, and continue it's rather steep path of evolution. This soul had been taking a break from Earthly life for a while, but thought now was a good time to come back down to the place once called "The Great Garden." Before she entered her small body, the girl's soul made a contract, or pact with fate and destiny, and is was these two that to visit her as faeries.

The girl's soul was somewhere between 2,000 and 5,000 years old, with one of the girls past memories dating back to being one of a set of twin boy and girl that ruled ancient Egypt side by side until a war destroyed their kingdom. The girl also signed one of the steepest, and most difficult, and challenging contracts to return to Earth a soul had accepted. She was tired of living a spiritual life, and longed to get back into the rhythm of being mortal, and oh so wonderfully human. The girl had forgotten much of what a human felt, and what it was like being one, but figured she would catch on easily enough. Her old soul knew it wouldn't be that easy.

Traffic Lights Twinkling in the Night

2009-11-18T21:40:00.001-08:00

I had to get across town today, and found myself gazing out of the bus, trying to block out the chatter, and crowds of the people around me. As we slowly crossed one of the city's many bridges, I watched the water moving below us. I guess I should be thankful for my late timing in deciding to travel at rush hour. Funny how they call it rush hour, when it's the time traffic moves at it's slowest. Shouldn't it be called slow hour? Or barely moving, and I want to be home already hour? Seems like a misnomer to me. But....anyway.

As we crossed the bridge, we encountered quite a few twisting highways passing thru, and around our crowded bus. Then I noticed something that made me catch my breath, and remember. I saw the slow movements of hundreds of cars to my right, moving along a stretch of highway below me, and I watched their white lights dance in the dark night. There was a red stream of lights, but for some reason, the white one's interested me more. I remembered being a passenger in my parents cars, and watching the traffic zoom around our car, sleepily wondering when the vehicle I knew almost nothing about, that my parent was driving, would stop, and the ride would be over. I remembered all those times the slow movements, my parents observant quiet, and the slight bump every so often used to put me at peace, and I would usually sleep really well, and dream vividly.

But as I watched those cars for a few minutes, I wondered what it was about bumper to bumper traffic that had such a soothing effect on me. It could be partly the childhood memories, but there was more to it than that. I realized that I was fascinated by all those cars, and always had been. They were part of one big, white and red lighted caravan of machines that were, and would remain a total mystery to me. I realized that I might never see those cars again, and had no idea who was driving, or even what kind of vehicle they were driving with the darkness surrounding them.

I thought they fascinated me because, from my vantage point, they were totally silent, yet I knew in reality they were probably noisy. And there were so many cars to be able to watch them move silently, and slowly thru the city. I wondered about the people in the cars. I thought that some of them could just be going home from working on the west side. I thought there could be employees, college students, or the city mayor in one of those cars. I thought there could be people I know behind some of those glowing lights, or people I haven't met yet. I imagined some of those cars had people traveling up north, and on to Washington. I figured some cars might be traveling across the country, and we were just one stop on the road for them.

My mind flew acros the possibilities, and coupled with the mystery, and artistic beauty of it all, I sighed, thinking how wonderful I felt watching them. I thought some of the cars could have small children in the back seats, dozing peacefully, unaware of the traffic around them. I imagined some cars might have a dog or two in them, vigilantly watching the other cars, and watching their person for signs of stress, or irritation. I imagined there might've even been a few cats cooped up in carriers in some of those cars; likely giving their humans baleful looks, from ticked off slitted cat's eyes. I thought there could be college students driving long distances to an out of state university, leaving home for the first time. There could have been people that had everything they owned packed up in a moving van traveling cross country to New York or somewhere.

But that river of twinkling lights, moving in that precise, yet dangerous dance made me quickly reach for my notebook, and write down some notes for a later post so I wouldn't forget. I thought that the lights, and the cold November night, and the absolute silence of the picture was more than worth trying to describe it here, so I did. I was fascinated by the mystery of travel, and how I will probably never meet any of those people, or know where they're going. I have always loved airports, so maybe it's a similar experience for me. The knowledge that I will probably never see those people again, or even hear their voices does something to me, and I can't fully explain it. What I do know is that it was beautiful to watch, and completely took my mind off of the crowded, noisy bus, and put me in an almost sleepily peaceful state that I still haven't recovered from. I'm sure my words make little sense to some, and I'm used to it. But they make sense to me, and that's why I'm writing about it, and that's really what matters right now. If anyone who reads my post was one of those cars, I guess the only thing I can say is thank-you, and you were breathtakingly, mysteriously beautiful to watch, and a comfort to my mind, body, and soul.

P.S. if you were one of the rare cars I saw, or rather heard driving around downtown streets with what I think were studded tires on--let's just say....I don't like you right now. And perhaps we shouldn't be encouraging the snow faeries just yet. Give us some time to get last year out of our heads first.

Quotes That Moved Me

2009-11-17T22:09:00.001-08:00

I have wanted to write about the quotes that people in my life have said that made deep impressions on me. Their words struck me, and I felt them to the point that I managed to store them in my long term memory; a place reserved only for words that had an emotional impact on me. So here are some, and if I forgot any, I'll add to this post later.

"Anything can be used to your advantage."
--The rather ironic last words a friend spoke to me about doing something I would like as a job, even if I think I'm not right for it. She said this on what was her last day of work; only neither one of us knew that until she came back from a much needed vacation.

"You made that sound. Like -- did when her baby died. It came from deep inside you, and was like a growl, and a cry. It gave me the shivers. The only difference is that --'s was more of a wail, and it echoed throughout the office. You just made a short, small, sound, but I felt it all the way thru me, and it made me shudder."
--Spoken by the person that told me my friend had died, not knowing that he was my boyfriend, and that we had become very close. She still regrets not knowing, and telling me so bluntly, and I hope I get a chance to make it up to her somehow.

"He must have been a good person. Because you are a good person, and you attract other good people to you. You wouldn't have loved him if he wasn't a good person."
--Spoken by a friend that met up with me right after I came home from my friend's funeral. I think this was the nicest thing anyone said to me during those dark, cold days.

"There's no such thing as coincidence."
--Spoken by one of my more outspoken, and super busy school friends. Sometimes, I have to forget this comment so I can sleep at night.

"He imprinted himself on your soul, and you'll always have that. You'll see him in your dreams now."
--Spoken by another friend after I told her about my friend's death, and our life, and she was right.

"I know what you mean. Oh, I just want to pet you."
--Spoken by a friend that is pretty much proof that I get along really well with people that share my friends elements in terms of astrology. (just in case I try and pretend like it isn't true, and block it, and try and be something I'm not.) She is someone that gets me, and for that I am deeply honored to have her as a friend.
I don't remember why she said the petting thing, but I remember laughing away whatever dark mood I was in at the unexpectedness of her comment, and the look on her face; like she was seriously considering petting my hair or something.

"You look like two different people with you hair like that."
--This comment might seem rather....vain. But considering how I wear my hair, I think I am wholeheartedly fighting hair vanity. But this comment, and the visuals of my hair two different ways made me remember that I am a Gemini. And it also made me realize that I can visually become a femme fatale with a simple change, and go back to being an innocent schoolgirl the next. It also made me realize that I do have two separate identities. And that they are both important.

"It's like, you are in so much pain that --- is the only way you can think of to stop it because, you can't stand it anymore."
--This was either me, or a friend talking about our shared experiences dealing with the darkest of human emotions, and why we thought it, and what caused it, and where we are now as people.

"I think we love life, and the little things so much more because, we have been at rock bottom, and we know how bad it can get. We really live because, we have almost died, and consequently faced our own death."
--This was also either me, or the same friend as in the last quote. I can't fully remember.

"You're so innocent with those big brown eyes. You're like that fish from finding Nemo, you can't remember. You get cuter each day."
--Spoken by a friend recently when she asked me something, and since I wasn't sure of the answer I took a moment to think about it while looking up at her. Apparently, that look is lethal, and should be saved for whatever helpless male catches my eye. But the cuter every day part really surprised me. I thought I still looked too thin, and like a wet kitten. Apparently, not.

"If you tell yourself you're going to run when you meet him, then you will. Don't do that."
-A friend that became a close friend one stormy night in the office, when we stayed after, and drank spiced tea, and sat with soft, low lighting.

I know there's more, but I can't recall them all right now. I'll come back to this later.

"I always know just what to say, what to whisper in some guys ear to get him, if I want him, but I never do because, I don't want him that badly."
--Said by a loved friend who set off on a journey to find herself, and I haven't heard from her since. I also realized, not too long ago what she meant by this comment, and that I understand her because, I can do the same thing, and I also choose not to use this ability on unsuspecting males because, I don't want them that bad either. I hope that wherever she is, she is safe, and happy. Perhaps, in my case, I don't use it because, I don't find it a power trip to be able to hypnotize my date into coming home with me.

"I am really good at managing other peoples lives for them, and motivating them, but when it comes to my own life, I am horrible at it."
--A surprisingly honest confession from a cardinal sign friend who, I think gave away one of the golden secrets of cardinal signs, which they probably would rather I didn't know.

"God (or the universe, as I see it) answers the soul's attitude, not the words....."

"Pray only for values, not things; for growth, not for gratification."

--Two quotes I stumbled across in my journals that apparently, I stumbled on at my favorite, and enlightening bookstore.

"You just don't get it do you? This is so inconsequential, and you just don't get it at all."
--Spoken by a new friend that I met, and realized that she got it in terms of knowing what it's like to grieve like I have, and live to tell the tale. It was a rare gift to be given, and I was thankful for it.

The Father, The Son, and The Ghost; An Insane Theory.

2009-11-15T17:47:00.000-08:00

I know, another unusual title; especially since I have never been a part of the faith I am sure my title brings to mind. (hehe)

I had a rather deep, intense, long conversation with a good friend of mine recently, and while the thoughts I intend to write about here will probably be seen by some as insane (me? insane? how dare you! I am mentally unstuck, and unhinged by convention). Still others might actually be able to make sense of my words, and understand my meanings on deeper levels. And I'm sure there are a number of people that will find my words to be just plain confusing, and incomprehensible. I'm sure more graphic, and profane responses might also occur, but I like to keep this part of my life as....tidy as possible. (as for the other parts of my life away from this blog--I make no apologies)
And to refer to my earlier insult in being seen as crazy, I can relate that to my 1st house moon which gives me a rather, Cancerian, or lunar sense of self. I tend to feel first, and think second, and I am attempting to finally adjust to this natural trait of mine as being positive.

But....the discussion I had with my friend surprised me since, I didn't expect to let the information come out of my mouth, or mind. It's one of my more out there, or philosophical ideal which, buzzes around my mind every so often, and I swat it away. We talked about my lack of a lover, and the why's and how's of it. The conversation could not be complete without talking about my first love, and former friend, and things just got more and more eccentric from there. (he would've been proud)

I said that in my most quiet, solitary, meditative, contemplative moments I thought that there was a strange link between my friend, and me which went back to before my current lifetime. I said that I remembered telling my friend in a dreamy voice once, about how I wished I had a house I had built myself out of wood in the depths of the forest. A house that was isolated from people, and that was mine from the ground up. I continued, not really noticing the odd, penetrating look my former friend was giving me, by saying that I had dreamed of a house like that for a long time, but hadn't found "it" yet. I looked back at my former friend, and found him looking at me with the strangest expression. I couldn't possibly tell you what he was thinking, but his look made me think surprise, suspicion, amazement, wonder, confusion, and a sharp focus on me. I said something like "isn't that funny? odd dream, huh?" My late friend responded in a rather small voice that his father had built their house himself from wood, and at the time, it was the only house in the hills (or forest), and that his father wanted to be isolated from other people. I think, at the time, I didnt think much of it, and we found something else to talk about.

But, I told my friend M about this, and also about how his father had listened to the great classical composers in phases, and had left off with someone I can't remember the name to. But my late friend's father preferred classical music much of the time, and seemed rather fixed on it. I told M how I had been a classically trained musician for eleven years of my life, and still had my violin for when the time came to take it out, and resume my studies. She listened with a little surprise herself. I said that my late friend had once, brushed his nose to mine, and I had pulled back quickly, as some thought I couldn't catch flew thru my mind. I looked at my former friend like something was wrong, and we found something else to do. Later on, I found out that his father had given him 'nose kisses' as a child, and that he loved that.

I told M about how his father was a Pisces, and how I had buried my Piscean traits in my 12th house, along with my heart, and romantic traits. I told her how he had died of a heart attack in water, and how one of my biggest fears has always been to drown while being helpless. I told her how, I had chosen not to have children in this life, and how if my past life 'children' been indeed my former friend, and his sibling, it would make sense in this life to choose not to based on the belief that I wasn't cut out for it. I told her how, at the time his father died, I was making the choice to come down to earth again, and about sixth months later I was born; right before my friend started heading down the destructive path he did which, eventually led to his demise.

I told her how I wondered in my most quiet moments if I wasn't an aspect, or reincarnation of my friends fathers soul. If I had wanted to find my son again, and reassure him that no matter what he did in his life, he was loved, and unconditionally loved for all time.
I didn't return to my birth town until I was an adult, and my late friend had lived out the consequences of his sometimes misguided actions in his own solitude. I lived most of my childhood, and early adult years roughly three hours from my friends sister, another odd coincidence. And when I moved up north, I encountered her brother, and we formed a friendship, and partnership.

I think sometimes that I came back down to earth right before my friend started making choices that would impact him for the rest of his life, and I came back right before his death. My friends life was one that told me he had never gotten over the pain of his father passing right next to him in the water. His negative life choices reflected his suffering, and living without his father. In the end, his choices killed him, and I stayed on Earth without him. Perhaps, we were each other's last, and first karmic debts to be paid. I think I was his last, and he was my first.

He became who he was because of his loss, just as I did as a consequence of losing him. And after a lifetime spent trying to do the right thing, and finally succeeding in many ways, I think he needed to find his father for the last time, and experience the unconditional love a parent should have for their child. It makes eerie sense to me that I could be a reincarnation of his father, and that he would find me at last, right before his own death, and that he would know he was loved regardless of what he did. I struggled hard to come down to earth in this life, and I almost wonder if this was one of the reasons. I needed to be born at the time that I did for any of this to have worked, and I refused to allow my delicate body to give up when the odds were equally stacked for and against me as an infant.

So I guess that's why I gave the post the title I did because, it is all very much interrelated in my story. The father helped create the son, and the son lived out a destiny closely linked to him. In the end, the son got to see his father one last time, and became a ghost. And I found him in one of the most unlikely forms imaginable; a small, much younger girl who had innocent written all over her, a quick mind, and a dreamers imagination. And in the end the ghost breaks the chain, and departs the Earth, voluntarily separating himself from his father's soul, and next life. The ghost also returned a few times to pay visits to the soul of the father, and try to encourage the soul to continue it's life without him.

But...this is all speculation, and I probably won't find out the truth until my journey on Earth is complete, which, hopefully won't be for some time. But, I loved my friend, and can only hope that in the end it was enough. While he was my catalyst for change in this life, I'll always wonder if I wasn't his catalyst in my last one. The odd similarities can be written about more than this, but I don't want to write that long. From this perspective, his father was instrumental in who he became, and the son proved instrumental in who the soul of his father became. So, in remembrance of the father, and the son, and the ghost.....

Destiny comes calling, and coincidence takes a hike.

2009-11-04T19:06:00.000-08:00

Perhaps that seems like an almost tongue twisted title but...I couldn't think of another. My reason for said title is that today, almost everywhere I looked, or found myself, I found help, and irony that I don't believe was fueled by coincidence. The real reason I am writing is not due to all the rather fortunate occurences I experienced today, but for my ending the day rather early for me. I guess what I am trying to work out is whether I chose to call it an early day because, it is cold out, and I didn't want to walk in it, and I have an early day tomorrow morning. Or because, I was secretly afraid of what I might run into on this day filled with twists of fate, and surprises.

I don't know the answer to my question, so that is probably why I am writing it out; to try and find an answer in my own words. I was supposed to go shopping after classes, and try and buy myself some rare clothes that fit all of me. ( I have recently found a shop downtown that does have clothes that fit me, but they only get in new stuff once every two weeks on Fridays so...it's been slow going.)

I hadn't eaten much of anything, and the clock said 4:30 pm. I made myself some yummy (if I do say so myself) rice flour spaghetti, and a ground turkey, spicy sauce to top it off. After eating this success of a meal lovingly, I read, and then intended to get out, and do some quick shopping. But...something stopped me. I don't know if it was rush hour traffic, or the cold, or the first meal of my day starting to digest thru my insides, or fear of the unknown. It is likely a combination of all of the above, and nothing totally.

But....to try and give as brief a recap of today's tasks, and people as possible--
My day started with a movie I had seen before in my Psych class on Arranged marriages in the U.S.. I could understand a number of the viewpoints in the film, and made some comments after the film had finished. Next, I went happily onwards to one of my jobs, and told a friend about the film, and what I thought of it. I didn't get to say much because, I was blasted with ignorance, and other negative emotions, and perceived as wrong. But after wards....the universe granted my wish to have someone to talk to about this that got me, and could understand where I was coming from. I got about three people, and I was delighted to talk to each one.

The first was a professor in the dept who said that losing one's temper doesn't help much, and that I should try and remember to be like a leaf blowing in the wind during a storm. His advice made me feel better, understood, and comforted, and I felt equilibrium return somewhat to my frazzled self. Next came a friend I chatted with online who took the time to listen to me. She also offered logical, yet sympathetic advice, and I felt more of my humanity, and less of my rage fill me again. The third person was another professor who....I have always gotten along with just because. I don't know why, and I think we understand each other, so it works. Remember, I am the author called 'An Anomaly,' and I didn't get that title for nothing. So finding someone that understands me for who I am, and that likes what they find is....well....probably the most valuable gift anyone has ever given me. Today, I found three people, and perhaps that's just because, I cut my day short.

But the third person proved me wrong, and right on many levels. She understood where I was coming from almost instantly, put into words what I was having trouble expressing, and even found humor in what had happened. I found it funny that the two of us are highly misunderstood by my friend, and we seem to understand each other better than my friend understands us.
And it continued. I haven't done my reading for my business class lately. (I'm waiting for the right moment. You know how it is in college) So I had no idea what we were going to be talking about. Roughly two hours after my confrontation with my friend, and understanding words from three others, I walked into my business class to hear that our topic was managing conflict and difficulties in the workplace. Oh! I almost laughed out loud. And for our assignment, we were asked to write about a recent conflict, and how it turned out; rather coincidental.

After all this, I saw my third wise friend again, and told her grinningly what had happened in class. We shared in our private joke, and laughed at the timing of it all. I left campus soon afterward, having no reason to stay. I went home, changed, and headed back out to buy the needed groceries for the delicious late lunch, early dinner I had planned in my head. I also needed to buy a particular vitamin while there, and grumbled to myself about the price. As I knelt down to reach for the first bottle on the shelf, I found a coupon for a dollar off sitting on the lid of the bottle. I looked at the others, and found that the bottle I had grabbed was the only one with a newspaper cut out coupon placed just on top of the lid. Another coincidence. After coming home, and making my dinner, I decided to rest, and not go out again. Wasn't that enough of fate for right now? Who knows what tomorrow will bring, I just hope it's more of this stuff. It's kind of fun in a way. It's like being on a roller coaster only you don't know where the tracks lead, or when you'll get off. Maybe I should invest in a helmet if things get really bumpy...

A Bug's Life, and Contemplation

2009-10-28T14:51:00.000-07:00

I found myself needing to take care of necessities, and had the pleasure of watching a small beetle on the floor. It was one of those one's that is shaped like a flat diamond, and has longer front legs, and shorter back legs. At first, considering my precarious position, I was worried the creature would attack, or come over and bother me. It did neither, and I watched it curiously from my perch.

I watched it's movements, and realized it had quite a personality, and style all its own. It looked kind of scary with it's sharp lines, and long legs, but it was a pleasant creature, and perfectly harmless. I watched as he (it might have been a she, but for some reason he seemed like a he to me) appeared to pray with his front legs. On closer inspection he appeared to be washing, or coating his legs in something, and it was done with slow methodical movements.

I smiled at him, realizing he had his own personality, and apparently a routine to starting an activity. After he finished his cleansing process, the small creature proceeded to turn away from me, and walk away towards the nearest sink. Before getting more than two steps from me he stopped, and I realized he had a tiny piece of dust on one of his back legs. I grinned, watching the fastidious bug stop walking, shake his back leg in irritation, and remove the offending dust bunny from his otherwise clean self. After this little dance, he proceeded to walk slowly away towards whatever was next on his path.

But...the bug surprised me. I was afraid of his pointy, alien, quiet presence at first, and perceived him as a threat to me. I learned that he had his own personality, and was methodical, fastidious, and quite concerned with cleanliness, and productivity. I suppose I learned another lesson today, and from a small bug that might not make it to tomorrow.

Changes, and a Needed Moment of Honesty

2009-10-27T20:29:00.000-07:00

Well, as you can see, I have changed the background on my blog. I thought it was time for a change, and also wanted the blog to reflect my ever changing self, and what is going thru my mind. I like these soothing shades of green, and right now, they just might counter balance my rather red, and impassioned words nicely. I think it's time I said what I feel, and why not here?

But....ahem. I am going to attempt to clear the air, and be true to myself. I know there is good in everyone I have met in my life, but I have noticed over the last year that many have similar traits in common which really, really, really make me wish I could breath fire, or press the mute button on them sometimes. This is for me, and I know I need to get this out there, or it will just boil away like acid inside of me, making me sick to my stomach, and unable to sleep at night. I don't have time for that, so here goes.

I think I'll put my hard earned social science degree to good use, along with my other more eerie natural traits which seem to make some people squirm, and others grin in anticipation.
(take a deep breath, find my center, stretch out the muscles in my hands, and fingers, and.....)

This is what I have witnessed, so that's what I'm writing about. I myself am a very romantic, idealistic, fluff ball, with a rather soft, empathetic heart, and a dreamers imagination that helps me understand things. I crave freedom of self above all things in my relationships, especially in my intimate one's. Give me freedom or give me death sort of thing, you know what I mean. I think that today I am going to try and explain the rather short title to this very blog, and also give what readers I have a look into the world I walk in much of the time, and the people I meet in it.

While my words might come across as cruel, or impolite to some, I believe I am due this after everything I have heard, and witnessed. You know what the real reason was that was holding me back from posting this post? Fear that I would lose my friends. Huh, now why should that stop me? And if I did, which I doubt, who have I really lost? I have lost the one I loved most, and the best friend I ever had, if I can't tell it like it is in my mind with regard to the people I know, I am not being true to myself, nor the promises I made after putting him in the ground over a year ago.

Anyway, from what I have observed, many of the people in my life share some of the same traits which, I am learning are not only counterpoint to my own identity, but are also not good for my psychological, and emotional health. I have noticed that most of the people in my life have either fiery, or earthy characteristics which make them who they are. But....what have I noticed that at this point has my notorious patience streak running ragged at it's last fringes?
(low growl. Read this with caution)

I'm tired of running into people that could have gotten, and maybe did get the stoicism movement started all those years ago.
"Stoic:" of or pertaining to the school of philosophy founded by Zeno, who taught that people should be free from passion, unmoved by joy or grief, and submit without complaint to unavoidable necessity.
"Romantic:" of, pertaining to, or of the nature of romance; characteristic or suggestive of the world of romance. Fanciful; impractical; unrealistic. imbued with or dominated by idealism, a desire for adventure, chivalry, etc.

Many of the people I have encountered share a stoic nature to one degree or another in their character, and since I am more of a romantic myself, it has gotten quite old, universe, quite old. I am tired of workaholics, conservatives, control freaks, crass, loud, rude, sneaky, and above all....in as intense a voice I can muster, I am sick and tired of emotionally unavailable people that want me to lean on them while giving me nothing to work on in return, and never letting me in to their own inner world like I do them into mine. Did I say I was sick of that? Oh good.

I am tired of people that use a variety of substances to dull their pains, and think that I must be miserable for not doing as they do. I am tired of hearing people drool (verbally of-course) over someone else's money, and lifestyle, cooing that so and so made all the "right" choices, and is accomplished. I am tired of hearing people wish they had millions of dollars because, that would make their greedy little hearts happy, and make all their troubles go away because, money really does buy happiness. Apparently, I just missed the boat because, I'm a simple dreamer that wasn't paying attention when it went by.

I'm tired of being nice, and patient with little girls that appear to be related to reptiles. Why bother trying to befriend people that by all accounts can't stand my very presence? I have had more than enough of people pitying, patronizing, and bullying me into trying to see it their way since their way is the right way, and my way will only lead me to more pain. Sounds like the queen of hearts in Alice in Wonderland to me. I've had it with people thinking that because I don't argue, or blast my opinions to the very edges of the walls around me that I am somehow weaker than them, and someone to feel sorry for.

Frankly, I'm tired of being Miss Manners, and think the scales need to be tipped to a more equal level. WIth my Saturn returning to its original placement in Libra in less than 48 hrs, I remembered something about who I was at birth, and who I am now, and things are not the same at all. I was dubbed 'the fighter' at birth because, I refused to give up, or give in to the ever present shadow of death waiting near for me to stop trying so hard. How have I turned into the repressed, swallowed rage person I am now? I know exactly how: my environment since birth. Well, now I intend to work on myself, and get rid of traits that aren't really making me happy, and let the others out that would if I did. If I lose a few people on the journey, it can't be helped, and it's probably needed.

But yes, these are a few of my least favorite things. I have had more than enough of hearing people identify themselves based on their career, profession, or how much money they make. I'm tired of little boys, and sullen, confused guys. I've had more than enough of average, and what most people want. I'm tired of people calling me passive agressive for refusing to budge from a stance I believe in in order to make them feel powerful. I've had it with people telling me my ideals are simple, childish, unrealistic, and impossible to find. I've had more than enough of people gently, and sometimes more forcefully trying to steer me to their mindsets without ever really understanding mine.

I'm tired of bullies, snobs, and most importantly the entitled majority. Urgh, they really make me long for a mute and fast forward button. I have seen so much entitlement in the last year, I wonder if there are very many of my own kind remaining, or if they have either interbred with these strange creatures, or moved to a habitat which supports their lifestyle better. If such a place exists on Earth, someone send me an address or just longitude and latitude points. I'll find it.
"Entitlement:" to give (a person or thing) a title, right, or claim to something."
I have witnessed people in various stores continue shopping until well after they have closed.
I have spoken directly to someone, and literally gotten a turned up nose, and the side of their face as an answer. I have seen people interrupt me in order to talk about themselves, and never utter an apology, much less feel guilt over their actions. I theorize that our society is breeding generations of entitled people, and I just hope others like me survive the experience.

Sigh....wow. I feel like I do right after Thankgiving, or a solo violin concerto on a huge stage with judges watching me. That felt....good. I feel lighter, and more sure of myself, and my surroundings. To my friends that read this; don't worry, I didn't mean you in this, and I hope you all get restful sleep tonight, and don't have any of the weird dreams I've been having lately. I suppose that's what I get for thinking too much about meaningless things, and then eating something unusual before bedtime.

I can see the lessons the universe wanted me to learn by bringing people in droves in the extreme into my world like this, but.....I'd like to move on to more compassionate, romantic, open minded, calm people. Eh, I feel like I'm trying to order a coffee at one of those mega chains. "Yeah, universe, this time I'd like a tall, decaf, sweet, light, idealist, with two shots of compassion, heavy on the honesty, and half the volume please. Oh, and make that to go, I have to go to the airport to catch a plane to some latitude longitude points some random person sent me. In fact, can I get a couple of those? I might need more than one to get me thru the flight."
And you thought I'd lost my sense of humor after all that fire breathing. Where is your faith in me? I've got to poke fun at life, or I'll go insane, and not in the fun way I enjoy sometimes.

Sweet dreams all, and don't let anyone change you without your consent. (hug)
(hmm, where did I leave my coffee anyway.....)

Mina.

The Temptation of Sweet Darkness, and Human Resiliency

2009-10-15T20:12:00.001-07:00

Perhaps that title is a bit much, but I couldn't think of anything else off the top of my head, and I am more concerned with getting the recent notes, and post written out than the title right now.

I went out for sushi this evening, feeling tired of poultry, or all vegetable meals, and wanting some yummy raw fish instead. I went to a sushi restaurant in the northwest part of town that I knew well, and ate until I felt satisfied. I feel a little guilty, and in need of at-least a half hour of yoga right now though due to the small, perfect, tempting, cheesecake that seemed to be calling my name from the conveyor belt of sushi, and other foods. There was a mountainous, dark chocolate looking cake as well, and I hungrily watched that go by me too. I can't, or rather shouldn't eat chocolate due to the rather destructive path it tends to carve thru my digestive track, but....a few times in as many years I succumb, and eat something chocolatey.

I think I might be over the addiction now since every time I take the huge risk to eat a rare, coveted piece of sweet darkness it never lives up to my fantasies of what I thought I remembered chocolate tasted like as a child. Maybe chocolate has just gone down hill since I ate it as a kid. So, I ate the cheesecake instead; not exactly a better option considering that this kind of cake is one I know has amazing powers of adding a few extra, unwanted pounds to my already curvy form.
So, tonight I will likely do a half hour worth of strenuous yoga in order to assuage my guilt, and hopefully head off those extra pounds before they make themselves at home on me. What I should really do, if I have the endurance for it is exercise every day for the rest of the week but....I might not make it, and choose to sleep an extra hour instead.

But....the real reason I just had to post this story is coming up, really....

After all that food, I walked, or rather waddled as unnoticeable as possible to the streetcar stop that would take me directly home. I walked quickly, trying to get in some exercise on the way, and soon found myself sitting patiently on a bench, waiting for the next trolley to come bustling, and jangling along the tracks embedded in the road in front of me. I pulled out my iPod, and found Sarah McLachlan's 'Angel' to listen to as I waited. The song ended up feeling like the perfect soundtrack to the moments I found myself in soon after plugging in, and turning on.

I watched the emergency entrance and exit of the hospital across the street, and saw what might have been a few needed reminders from the universe to me. I watched a small car pull up to take someone home. A man quickly got out of his car to gently, and slowly help an elderly woman get into his sporty, expensive looking vehicle. She had been calmly sitting in her wheelchair waiting for him when I arrived at the streetcar stop, and seemed unruffled by this young man practically jumping out of his car, and quickly bounding up the sidewalk to meet her, and take her home.

As I watched him drive off, a few seconds passed before another car came pulling into the parking lot, moving slowly, and carefully as though someone inside needed as little jostling as possible. The vehicle was a station wagon that appeared full of people. I watched curiously as the two front doors swung open almost before the car had stopped at the hospital entrance. I was amazed by this because, I have never before seen two people--especially one of them the driver--get out of a car with almost military precision of movements and timing.

As I continued to watch, two more people got out from the back doors, and one carefully helped a young man out onto the sidewalk. I blinked back a few soft tears as I watched one man place himself at the injured man's left side, gently holding what may have been an injured hand, or arm above his head as they began to walk. Another man put his arm around the injured person's waist, and supported his right side easily, appearing to talk calmly to the man that they were leading into the emergency room. From my soundless place across the street, I got the feeling the man was telling his friend that everything would be fine, and that he was safe.

The vehicle's driver led the way thru the hospital's sliding double doors, and his walk suggested he was fully prepared to fight his way inside to a doctor if need be. I looked back to their car after everyone was inside, and noticed that while the car was turned off, all the doors were still open, and no one seemed worried about it. I nodded in respect, and humility for the small scenes, or hints I had just witnessed as the fitting lyrics to 'Angel' came to an end.

I realized that we humans care very deeply for each other, and are capable of tremendous acts of kindness, courage, and strength of will when one of our loved one's gets hurt. We drop everything, and pile into a tiny station wagon in the middle of the night, driving extra carefully so as not to hurt them further, and hold their injured arm up all the way to the hospital for them. We pull up looking like busy, cool, aloof businessmen, yet carefully, and gently escort an elderly lady into our sporty vehicle, murmuring how glad we are to see them feeling better.

We have a tremendous ability to love, and form deep, long term bonds with each other. We are also just as deeply hurt when one of our friends is injured, or hurt in some way, or even passes away to the next life without us. I think we show the universe our best, and worst in moments of crisis. We take charge, calm the frightened, make it to the hospital in record time, even though we drove like the trunk was filled with eggs, and we become fully capable of doing battle with anyone that stands against us saving our friends.

We don't care how rich we are, or how cool we are in those moments. We could care less that it might appear odd to see a stuffy businessman turn into a soft spoken, gentle caretaker for a lady waiting in a wheelchair for us to take her home. We get out of our cars in our pajamas, and mismatched shoes, not caring that we left the car doors open after us.

I believe we become our highest, most pure selves in these moments of intensity, and seeming chaos. We show the world, and ourselves what we're made of, and how deep we really go. In such moments our souls shine at some of their brightest, and strongest, and for me, watching these people--these mere humans from my perch across the street waiting for my ride home, they were absolutely beautiful. They took my breath away with the raw beauty of their spirits shining outwardly for my dark eyes to see. I hope, and pray that their loved one's come out all right from the hospital, and that their lives are blanketed in happiness as they head back home.

Days Past, and Old Haunts

2009-10-09T12:54:00.000-07:00

I know I haven't written in a while, but life has been awfully busy for me in the last few weeks, so I guess it couldn't be helped. I started my fall term at the university to finish the last year of my studies, and I have been trying to catch up with all that I have to do since the weekend before the term started. I am getting back into the rhythm of being a full time student, with two part time jobs, waking up to an alarm clock each morning, and not having a full day off until Thankgiving, and Winter break. It's not that bad really, and I actually prefer this pace, and lifestyle to just working over the summer at a job that while nice, isn't my ideal.

The night of the full moon, or Saturday the fourth was the one year anniversary of my friends death, and surprisingly, I got thru it fairly well. I almost felt a sense of impatience that people not try and comfort me, and I didn't want to be treated like I was still grieving, since I didn't feel like I was. The moon was beautiful, and looked like a glowing drop of milk in the black sky. I almost felt sad as I watched it while walking home because, there were no stars around it, or even clouds, and I wondered if the moon felt alone up there by itself. Perhaps not with lunar people like me gazing adoringly up at it, feeling a sense of calm from walking in it's pale, soft light.

I didn't cry when I got home, but rather reflected on where I was at that time last year, and where I am now. I realized with some sadness, and worry that while I am not in the tremendous pain I was in this time last year, I also have not felt such pleasure as I did last year either. It made me think, and continues to make me think about it's quiet message. Is it better to experience smaller, less intense bits of pain over the course of my life, fore go the pleasure needed to truly make me feel alive, and only live a half life? Or is it more necessary to take a gamble on life, find that amazing pleasure in another man's embrace, and also run the very real risk of losing it all, and suffering a soul deep pain for it, but truly live in those moments I have with him? This question repeats itself in my mind continually throughout my days, and I still don't have an answer to it. Perhaps I don't want to see the answer that will suit me best, or perhaps I'm just not ready for it.

Yesterday was the day I was told he had died, and I nearly collapsed that day. I can still remember how it felt like my soul had shriveled up inside me, and was writhing in an agony I instinctually knew had only just begun. Tomorrow is/was the day I went to my first adult funeral, his, and lost another 'cat life' to seeing him in a coffin, his skin the color of granite, and an artificial smile on his face. I am pretty sure I lost another life when I fell to my knees as they lowered his beautiful body into the ground, as I knelt there, not being able to watch, not wanting to acknowlege what was happening. I remember how cold it was that day, and that Winter. I remember the snow storm that broke records later that year, and sometimes I wonder if it was echoing my sadness, and loss, or if it was the other way around.

The air was foggy, and damp, and so quiet at the cemetary. I remember pulling off my leather gloves in frustration as I touched the grass, and earth they were lowering him into, wanting to feel him one last time. I remember kneeling there, in black, wearing my black wool coat, my hood covering my bowed head; a small, pain filled creature, trying to smother my whimpers, and moans of agony as I felt another 'life' slip away from me from the shock my system was trying to take for me, and not buckle under. My whole frame shook with rage, fear, dying love, shock, confusion, and every other emotion you can imagine.

And where do I find myself today? A place I haven't set foot in, in...well, over a year: the room that was my friends office, and where he asked me to be with him, and held me that first time. It took some courage for me to ask to use the room for work, unlock the door, and walk inside. I was surprised I didn't start crying immediately, and find myself to be fairly comfortable in here now. Perhaps this is due to the challenging question I asked myself before entering the room; "do you really want to move on, and get thru this, and find another mate, or not?" My hand shook as I held the key for a moment, making the fearful choice to move on, and try and let another in, even with the overwhelming odds against such a miracle happening in my life again. Even with that, I made the choice to open the door, walk in, and sit down in the quiet office to do what I needed to do in the moment, work on some homework, and respond to some e-mails.

For a moment, looking around the small room, I remembered us, and how we had talked about things like love, and sex, and what we both wanted in a relationship. But....rather than let those memories break my heart again and again, I acknowleged them with a nod of respect, and accepted how happy they made me, and that they were no longer a part of my life. That perhaps another might come along that could allow me to be just as happy, if not more so than my friend did, and that I could make happy just by being myself, not a mask.

And that, my unlikely audience, and therapy group, is where I have been, and where I am now. Where I'll be later is running around town trying to squeeze a few more jobs out of people I need things from before my weekend work week starts up tomorrow. I'm sooo excited about that. At-least it's supposed to be cool this weekend, with high's only in the upper fifties, and lows in the thirties. That's something for my hot blooded, warm skinned self to be happy about. (grin) I know, most of you will be miserable for the next five months, but someone has to love the unlikely, socially outcast, and that task usually falls to me.

--- and Mina

2009-09-19T22:07:00.000-07:00

I found myself online searching for my own blog for some reason. I think I wanted to see how quickly I could find myself, and in doing so, how fast could others also find me. I ended up finding blogs that both horrified me that shared my name, and one that.....I had to write about.

I guess I should start this story with an introduction, right? Okay, once upon a time, not long ago, I came across a book I wasn't looking for, in a section I had never really stopped in, in of one of the largest bookstores in the country. There were also about five other identical copies of the book I eventually bought; it was titled The Couples Tao Te Ching, and what I found on opening it shook me for days. Inside this pink book was a dedication to two people about to get married. Their names were my deceased friends name, and my...well....pen name, Mina. I was shocked, and worried and wondering what the universe had up it's sleeve for me that day. To read a dedication to two people about to get married, that had received the book I was holding as a wedding gift was.....a little eerie.

There was also a handwritten letter from the man that shared my dead friends name to the woman he was marrying. He said how eager he was to begin their new life together, and how much he loved his bride. I bought the book after an hour of deliberating, and still have it, and find the words in the actual Tao book to be quite calming, and inspirational. But.....I never figured out what the significance was of my rather lucky coincidental timing in finding such a karma loaded book in a store with over one million to chose from.

Perhaps, in my forays into searching for myself this stormy night, I have finally found an answer. In searching online for my own blog in a kind of privacy control exercise, I found a photograph on someone's page that's title read "---- and Mina." I gasped, and almost thought not to look on the picture of couple that probably looked nothing like we had, and who likely looked happy in their bliss. I decided to do the brave thing, and look at the photo. As the page, and the picture came into view on my laptop, a slow glow of happiness, stillness, and calm spread over me. The photograph, was of two cats sharing our names; one looks like a large contented Himalayan mix that appears more asleep than concerned for someone taking its picture. The other looks like a Calico, with mostly black, and some gold, and cream in its fur; I'm guessing this is Mina since Calico's are almost always female based on it's sex linked trait, and she is the darker of the two, and looks a little disgruntled at having her picture taken. The big Himalayan looks less concerned with the camera.

On seeing the picture I just grinned, and looked at the two of them, lounging in the sun, different, yet obviously a pair. I also found it privately sweet that this pair is quite feline, much like we were as a couple at times; lounging in the sun, yawning in sleepiness, growling at each other, digging our claws into the other sometimes, hissing, and even purring on occasion in simple joy at being near the other. As I recall, the two of us were also quite fond of sushi, hmm, interesting.....

But....the picture was so sweet to me on a soul level, and said so much to my lived experience that I had to pay tribute to it in my blog.
So, I went looking for myself, and stumbled across....what? my past? my imagination running away with me again? a heartfelt photograph that spoke volumes to me of the life I lived a year ago, and the love I shared? I don't really have a clear answer to what I unwittingly found this night, but I do know it made me happy to find it, and I'm going to try and leave it at that, without over analyzing the pleasure, and just.....let it be, and call this day a night.

Of-course, there is one more option.....

2009-09-16T18:39:00.000-07:00

Something I forgot to mention in the last post is that there is also a third option to the one's listed below; that I find just what I am looking for, and love my mate more than anything, and am happier than I dreamed possible, and I loose him to death, or an accident again. I'll try and come back to this thought later.

Counting Down, Or Up

2009-09-16T00:26:00.000-07:00

Well, I glanced at my calendar, and realized that tomorrow marks the one year anniversary of the last time I was with my deceased boyfriend. It was the last time I felt his hands running over my highly sensitive skin, loving me in the way he could express it to me. It was the last chance I got to be with him, and I didn't take it. Why? I guess because, of who I was at the time, rather than who I became with his death. The person I became after he died would have taken the oppuritunity eagerly with both hands, and eyes wide open. But....life doesn't always work out the way we would like, does it?

I felt a pang of pain, and almost panicked realizing I had to think about it to make sure it was the right date. I still have to get thru those painful uncertain days when I started losing weight, and sleep, and felt so helpless in the face of his illness. The biggest days for me will be getting thru the night he died, and came to me as a ghost to tell me I was beloved, and that I didn't have to worry about him anymore. The day that I found out he died, and also the day of the funeral. After those days have passed, we'll see where I am with myself, and my surroundings.

I have also come to a new realization in terms of finding another mate. I have come to my own personal understanding with my fate, and destiny, and have accepted the very real possibility that I could be alone for the remainder of my life, and that my body might not like that option. I am tired of trying to fight a fate that seems imminent for me, and one which I can clearly see in front of me. If it is to be, it will be, and there's little proof in my life that my 'prophecy' will be fulfilled in any other way. I have found the greatest joys, and the greatest pain and suffering in the area of my love life. I have formed the most profound, deep, meaningful experiences with my 'others,' and I have learned the most, and evolved the fastest when in partnership with another.

But....I have to be honest in seeing that for most of my life, I have been without another. I have to remember that my particular type of love seems only felt by a rare population of people. I have to remember that I seem to need things from my lovers that most people never even think about, much less put on their lists of traits. And I have to remember that according to a 12th house Venus, I am flying along the path that such an aspect denotes to the owner of the chart it inhabits. I cannot say I have lost all faith because, I also know what it would mean if I did, and I do not want to walk that path. But, I have lost almost all of it, roughly 98% of my personal faith, and optimism in finding another mate is gone, and I don't really worry too much.

I think that if I live my life without ever experiencing intimacy with another, then I am willing to face my destiny with open eyes, and an honest heart. I am not going to cower from what may be, and I am not going to live my life for another person, or according to anyone's notions of love or partnership but my own. I am me, and I am comfortable with me. I am also surprisingly comfortable being alone with my own company, and really do like being with myself as opposed to other people. I never thought I would truly enjoy being alone, and used to equate it with being lonely. I know that there is a huge difference in those two words, and the former suits me right now.

So, that is where I am. I have accepted a very possible fate that I could be alone for the remainder of my life, and never taste true intimacy with a partner, and that I am willing to accept the consequences of my actions as well. I still have those two small percentage points of hope that some miraculous man might come into my life, but I am not holding my breath for him anymore. I know what I want, and I know I seem to have a strong passionate nature, and need for another, but I also know that my heart's radar, and my soul's radar are even stronger than my drives, and they screen everyone as well. I could not be with someone that did not feel 'right' to my soul, and who didn't feel good, and safe to my heart, and that's just how I'm wired.

I am not like most people I have learned. I don't play at love. I don't experiment, and try people on like shoes. I don't do half measures, or small talk, and am extremely private about my private life. I am either all in, or not interested, and just friends. I don't chat, I speak, and probe, and delve, and learn. I know myself, and I am not about to change into the majority or 'norm' for anyone. Whereas I always hear the saying about apples and oranges in comparison, I feel more like a blackberry, or apple pear in comparison. I exist, but I'm not what one would think of when considering fruits. While I can be just as sweet and delicious as the next apple, I have little in common with them besides that. I can nurture a body just as well as an orange, and make someone feel good just as well, but.....I am not so obvious, not so centered in the daily world of most people. I have to be found, and brought out into the open by someone that truly wants me, and is seeking just what I have to give, rather than what is out there in spades.

Do I think there is someone out there with, well alternative tastes? Perhaps, but I'm not going to put any money on it happening in this lifetime. Other than that, I'll do my best to get thru these last few milestones, and see where I come out on the other side of them. Until then, I'm going to take my sweet, sometimes tart, mouth watering self off to bed for the night. Fruits need rest just like anything else.....

Be Careful What You Wish For...

2009-09-03T05:03:00.000-07:00

Oh.....my.....goddess. I think that sums up what I was feeling when I realized that the above quote was glaring me in the face a few nights ago. I was getting ready to go to sleep, and felt that I deserved to feel pain, and no pleasure, and made the horrible wish that the universe bring me pain because, I thought it was all I deserved in that moment, and because I also thought I couldn't be hurt any more than I already was. How wrong I was!

I fell asleep quickly, and woke up in the middle of the night, with one of the worst nightmares on record, even for me. I woke up hyperventilating dangerously, sweating, shaking, at the edge of nausea, and almost crying I was in so much pain. I found myself clutching a rather confused, if sympathetic large black cat to me, glad she was alive, and with me. And it was pain from the frightening nightmare I had that caused all this. I don't know if anyone out there has experienced this, but sometimes, if a nightmare gets inside me like this one did, it feels like I am a prisoner of my own mind, and can't escape it. It feels like my mind is out of control, and creates the most frightful imagery which I can't seem to turn off, and react to strongly, and mostly unwillingly in my physical body. I can't turn my mind off, or focus on something else, and continue in this loop until I finally either make myself sick, fall asleep from tiredness, or do find something to pull my mind away from the disturbing realm it places itself in.

But...I realized after calming down somewhat, that I had asked for pain, and pain I had received, in spades. I had thought myself almost impervious to anymore pain, but apparently I am still quite human, and capable of suffering. I realized that I made a mistake in judging the universe, and myself, and that I needed to work on coming out of the negative thought patterns I was in, or I would suffer like this again, which.....I didn't think my already strained system could handle. So....I thought on it, and came up with a reasonable alternative. While I did not wish for pleasure, since I am not in that space right now, I wished for peace, and calm for the rest of the night; thinking I deserved that at-least from the universe. I fell back asleep quickly, not really remembering doing so, and slept peacefully and soundly for the rest of the night. The next morning the fur ball was still worried about me, and made small meeping sounds rather than her usual loud yowl at the crack of dawn for breakfast . She sat at the foot of my bed, watching me with a very worried look in her light green eyes which, intentionally or not, made me smile at her in love, and a little laughter at her maternal instincts towards her human. When I looked at her making those sounds, I realized that she had been truly worried for me, and was willing to let me wake up gently, rather than with the usual bang of her screaming at me, and me answering back irritably with "What?!."

To explain my physical body symptoms lately, I have been nauseous each morning, or afternoon, depending on when I eat breakfast for roughly the last two weeks. It was better yesterday, but tonight, I feel right back where I was. I can't seem to stop it, but I have found some foods, and stomach meds that help calm me somewhat. Obviously, I don't sleep full nights, and wake up in the early hours of the morning thinking about something stressful. I feel.....sad, and lost, and like I have lost much faith, and optimism in matters of the heart. My body seems to be tearing me up, literally, and I have a hard time resting my mind, and realizing that if I continue to think negatively, it will affect me like this.

I am tired of crying, and last night refused to. A warm, hypnotic, all encompassing shower was calling me when I got home. Calling me to let the water wash over me, and cocoon me within it's gentle knowing energy, and I refused. I didn't want to cry, and consciously made the choice to go against my instincts, or emotions because, I didn't want to do it again, or go there again. And now....here I am; in the middle of the night, feeling sick to my stomach, confused, angry, and lost. And the lesson of this story? Be careful what you wish for because, you will get it. And never be so arrogant as to underestimate the universe in anything.
And now, if you'll excuse me, I think my bathroom is calling my name again, for a different reason I wish it wasn't.

P.S. Mylanta at three in the morning is quite an unpleasant wake up to my system. Ew.

Music and Memories

2009-09-02T14:15:00.000-07:00

I recently found my subscription to Pandora radio, and managed to log back in, and found all the music I used to listen to last summer, when I discovered the radio thru a friend.
The stations were still programmed as I had left them, and the songs played were what I used to listen to, and find, a little painfully, I still like.

The pain comes from the memories that hit my psyche when I hear those songs. They are happy, carefree songs, some have a dark intensity to them, while others are soft and dreamy; kind of like me in a way. But....hearing those songs, I remember the friend that got me started with the online radio station, and tempted me to try new things. I remember coming over to the beautiful new house she was living in, and watching her make a delicious dinner while I watched, played with her adorable chocolate lab, and listened to the music.

I remember sitting at the kitchen counter, on a bar stool, talking openly about what I thought about regarding the man I didn't realize at the time was my boyfriend, and confessing all the things his beautiful body and soul tempted me to try, which I never got the chance to do in real life. I remember making her laugh as I told her how desperate I was, and how I was turning into a big cat in heat, and that just the flashbacks were enough to make me shiver, even at work, where no one knew I even was dating, much less doing anything else. I, me, the shy one, managed to surprise my normally unshakable Scorpio friend, and fellow traveler on a life path of her own. I haven't done it since, but....I don't have much to talk about these days.

But nothing is left of those memories except these songs, what my mind recalls, and of-course the irresistible chocolate lab we'll call B. The house is gone, as are both of the relationships we were both nurturing at that time. My friend has found a true soul mate in her current relationship, and I couldn't be happier for her. She has a new house now, and shares it with her soul mate, and B, of-course.

But......the more time I put between myself and those memories, the harder they become to catch, and react to with deep feeling. It's like chasing dandelion fluff in the wind; elusive, and virtually impossible to get back. What I know now is that there is a growing space between those memories, and my current self. I am magnetic, and responsive, and now I have nothing to respond to, nothing to draw to me. It's like someone leaving you on a desert island alone, and you don't know what to do next. Eh, maybe something will come to me and inspire me soon, who knows?

A Clock Counting Down, and Dark Whispers.

2009-08-25T23:40:00.000-07:00

Another cryptic title? Eh, I can't seem to help it. This one made me think of the fact that the clock is still ticking away, and it seems to be solidifying itself with words. I hear whispers like, "Hurry, hurry, time is running out, the clock is ticking, hurry!," and "Don't make any big plans!," "Work hard, and don't slack off!." "Pay off all your debts that you can. Do it soon!." "Hurry, hurry!"

It's rather interesting to have a clock ticking away in one's mind constantly, in those still quiet moments when I'm alone. It's ticking, and time feels like it is running out. I wonder whatever could possibly happen when the clock strikes midnight? I just hope I don't turn into a pumpkin, it sounds messy, and slippery.

Besides that, the more darker voices whisper to me as well. They say things like, "It gets so tiresome doesn't it? Being without your mate. Don't you just feel like stopping the fight with yourself, and all that stress? You could sleep forever; all you have to do is make one wish, and it won't hurt anymore, and no one could blame you for it. You could spend the rest of your life alone, and never find another like him. Maybe he was your only mate. You're so very tired aren't you? Wouldn't it be nice to not have to worry about it any more, and leave it all behind? You're almost always in pain, don't you think you've suffered enough? Almost your entire, short life has been pain, and suffering. Isn't it enough? You wouldn't have to suffer anymore. All you have to do is......"

These voices almost tempt me sometimes, but I never really consider what they are offering as a choice I could make. I couldn't do that. Perhaps I am stupid, or just young, but I would live my life alone, and without the mate a crave like air, if only to see the people that I loved happy that I am here. I guess you could say I sometimes feel the need to live for others, rather than myself because.....my life right now isn't exactly going as wonderfully as I would like. It's a good life, and it does make me happy a lot of the time, but....the need, the yearning, the soul ache's are always there, and sometimes I get so very, very tired of watching other people bonded to their mates, and talking about their new loves, and taking it all for granted. Sometimes, I just want to sleep forever. But....I can't, so I write about it instead to try and ease my pain. I find other things to mask the ever present pain, and some of the time, I really do feel pleasure in my life; it's just not the pleasure I truly want. What keeps me going now is that clock. It urges me on, wanting me to get my priorities, and stuff in order soon. Presumably, this is so that when it strikes midnight, or whatever, I will be ready to receive whatever it is trying, quite strongly, to prepare me for. I want to know what the big surprise is, and that makes me keep going for now.

I have realized that I either crave intimacy more than most, or I just feel it more keenly. It is a need, and it is the foremost need in my life, and has been for a while now. So here I am; needing, and faithfully waiting for someone that might not even exist, or might never find me; why? Because I can do nothing less. And I have no clue how to even begin to define myself in a moment like this.

Life; or Something Like It

2009-08-19T22:28:00.000-07:00

I realized something the other day, and thought to write it down. I learned that the more I live my life, the fuller it becomes, and the slower time seems to move in relation to my actions. The more I do, the more I am amazed that I did everything I did in the amount of time I did it in. I don't feel like I am chasing time when I live, I feel like time slows for me, and isn't as important as I thought. I know this is probably one of my more random posts, but I'll try and come back to it and flesh it out later.

A Startling Quote I Found Today

2009-08-10T12:49:00.000-07:00

"The barrier to intimacy is created within ourselves....."
I think I have learned part of that lesson on my own, but the quote still makes me shudder, and feel fear coursing thru my veins like ice water from an almost frozen winter pond. But what keeps me thinking it can be done, and I can find love? My heart. An organ, and a group of emotions that I have had very little experience using. I wasn't brought up to think with my heart, but with my head, and also common sense and dignity were the norm at all times. Sound rather cold, and starchy to you? Well, we can chalk it up to being raised by two Mars in Capricorn parents.

I saw no love, or affection, or fondness, much less friendship between my parents, who made it quite clear that they were together for the sake of their children. I didn't start dating until college, and so.....I really don't have examples from my life that I can fall back on for reference. So what must I do if I want to find intimacy, and love, and friendship, and genuine affection with a mate I crave like air? I must learn from myself, and create what I feel is best for me. I must teach myself all that I wasn't taught growing up as an adult now. Sounds almost like mission impossible, but if anyone knows me they probably know that daunting odds don't really faze me, just make me blink slowly, sigh, and start the long process needed to achieve my goals.

But my heart, my big, easily hurt, soft, romantic, fluffy heart is what keeps me going. It doesn't care what the past has been like, it wants what it wants, and it seems to believe quite strongly, stronger than my stoic upbringing that it is totally possible to find love and be happy. My heart, goddess it's big. It beats with the need for it's mate, or one of my karmic mates, and I'll be darned if I don't feel that need everyday, and ache for someone to love, and that loves me as I am, not as they wish I was. Someone that wants me just as I am, not as they try and mold me into being to suit their own shortcomings.

My fiery, passionate, beating within an ocean of hot red blood heart feels like it is totally willing to go toe to toe with Saturn one more time, and likely very soon. My heart has been buried long enough, and it's raw emotions feel like they really are strong enough to outlast, and overcome cold-hearted business as usual Saturn. I have always thought of myself as having a warriors heart, and this time--I'm not going to back down for anything, not even a scared, twisted, cruel ice cube standing in it's way of happiness. I'm putting my money on Venus this time. Saturn has ruled long enough, and deserves to take a break in matters of the heart, and learn to better aid me in relation to work, and career.

I don't think this will be an all out war with a victor and a loser, but rather a restructuring and placement of energies in parts of my life where they are best suited. But right now, I am just collecting my various tools and information pieces in order to better aid my heart and mind when the time comes for all this to be needed in whatever unusual relationship life has in store for me next.

Another interesting line I stumbled unintentionally across comes from Paul Simon, also a Saturn opposite Venus soul;
"Hello Darkness my old friend, I've come to talk with you again."
Sounds frighteningly familiar universe. But....I'm not going to give up or stop, regardless of if my life is filled with pain in love, I won't stop until I can't move or think anymore. Besides, it's not like I have anything else to do.....(grin).

P.S.

2009-08-08T13:07:00.000-07:00

Almost forgot; Saturn is also the planet of karma and destiny. And if I remember correctly, a man's/woman's character is his destiny. If we remake our character, we remake our destiny. Sounds fair to me, universe. But there is a bit of a catch to all this. Change and evolution are the keys to doing well during a Saturn return, and if we do not change what we know needs to be changed, our destiny will change it for us, whether we like it, or are ready for it or not. I think I can say I am rather painfully acquainted with this concept, and I hope I have learned at-least part of the lesson.

Perhaps this is why I seem to have taken on many of the Saturnian traits myself, and am doing my honest work myself, even if it doesn't always seem like fun to clean one's home during these long summer days when I could be acting laid back, and worry free. I know what I need to do, it's pretty obvious, and I'd rather have the ability to do it myself, rather than have that choice ripped from me, and done however The Lord of Karma would do it.

The Clock Has Started Ticking Again

2009-08-08T12:17:00.001-07:00

I suppose I should explain the title. I usually need to explain my title's don't I? But then, if everything made sense all the time I probably wouldn't be writing about it to sort thru it would I?

Anyways, I remember "hearing the clock ticking" right before my friend passed, about, let me think, a month before he died. I remember an inner restlessness, and feeling like I wasn't moving fast enough, accomplishing enough, or getting enough done. I felt like I was racing towards something, but at the time I only had vague ideas of what that something was. I was pretty much spinning my own wheels, and going in circles. All I really knew was that on the instinctual level, something was literally propelling me forwards into something I couldn't name. I was confused, and as the clock ran out of time, and got closer to that point of no return for both of us, I got more and more edgy, nervous, and frantic. In the end, things happen for a reason, as much as those things might cause pain to us, there is a point. I haven't fully figured out the point to his death, but I have a few theories.

I have it in the back of my mind at all times, ticking away towards something likely life changing for me yet again. It's always there; in every movement that I make, every decision, I can hear and feel it ticking slowly, the pendulum swinging heavily. It makes me feel the need to move faster, think clearer, work harder, accomplish more, and focus better. It makes me feel like I have passed the point of making foolish mistakes, and that now I need to be honest, open, and mature enough to accept what I need to live, and do as much as in within my power to help it along.

And what can I interpret this ticking clock as? Well, I don't think anyone's going to die this time. At-least I hope not. And if you know me, you know I have a rather odd predilection for getting myself into and out of death defying situations. And if someone I love does pass; what can I do about it but try and be there in the moment, and remember that people die.

But, the ticking away......I interpret it as being my not so favorite, and often personally difficult planet to understand, Saturn--father time himself. The planet that is on the edges of moving back into the sign it was in at the time of my birth twenty-seven years ago. Joy for my generation, we get our Saturn return a little earlier than some. The range is between 27 and 30, so we're not wasting any time. Not like I did when I was born, why start now?

And what lovely sign do we all have Saturn in? Libra, the natural ruler of the seventh house of partnerships, open enemies, and marriage. The sign that tells us to get along, be nice, and learn to build lasting partnerships, some of which naturally would include spouses, and significant others. And my Saturn is in natal retrograde, which means what I don't entirely know, but I'm guessing my return will be more of an internal process within rather than the usual outwardly focused direct Saturn.

And what has this clock been pushing me to accomplish lately? And what fire has been lit under my feet? Hmm, now there's an astrological Freudian slip loaded with meaning. My home has been my focus, and my body and health. I have been working on the largest home improvement project ever recorded, and I will not stop until it's accomplished. I have been cleaning out everything in my home that serves no useful purpose (now if that isn't Saturn in the sixth house...). I have donated many things, thrown out many things, and it's just beginning. I intend to remove all clutter from my personal life in the physical world, in order to make it more receptive to another in my life. I get the feeling that in removing physical unwanted clutter, I will also be doing some fall cleaning inside myself as well.

I am driven to remake, or create my home into a place that I feel is conducive to not only friends and family being more welcome, but also a lover. (you didn't think I had forgotten about that little clause in the Saturnian contract did you?)
I intend to buy new furniture that reflects what I want and need. I am going to buy a full sized futon couch so that my friends can sit in comfort and spaciousness, and also so that any partner I bring into my space will also be comfortable. And so that when I want to watch a movie late at night, I can sleep there too.

I am still constantly learning from my bed about equality in partnerships (what Libra is all about), and I am still becoming more and more domestic in my private life regarding cleaning and cooking. By my "coincidental" calculations, I should have my home clean, furnished, and "ready" for whatever life throw or drops my way right around the time I go back to school, and definitely by the time Saturn's clock stops ticking and sits down to take a good long look at everything I have accomplished around Halloween this year.

And I can't stop. I hear that clock, and it spurs me on to get more and more done. I exercise, eat healthy (most of the time), and when I'm not working to make money to save or buy what I need, I am cleaning out my space and moving things out of it that serve no purpose. Oh, and the cat is included in this. I have been feeding her less, and exercising her more, and right around back to school she is going to the vet for a full check-up, and bath. She doesn't know this, but that's all right. She actually doesn't mind baths that much, but I intend to give her one once a month from now on. As long as I talk to her, and pay attention to her, she doesn't seem to mind baths at all. She just sits there, and watches me talk. When I stop talking, then she freaks out and seems to realized she's all wet, and does that horrid yowl cats do when getting a bath.

Another interesting point to note is that people with natal Saturn retrograde usually have troubles with their own fathers. I have only met two people with Saturn retrograde conjunct their father's sun sign, and this one is, as they say, a doozy. One person was me, the other was my friend, and we both lost our father's in different ways at about the same age. My father is a Libra, and honestly, I have always had a rather tense rapport with Libran's in general. I have many planets in Libra, most of them falling into my sixth house, but they are all either retrograde, or inwardly focused, or in detriment, or expressed in the opposite way they were intended.

Something else I just noticed was that Saturn returns every few years before this, in minor aspects. I was surprised to see that it happened at fourteen, and again at twenty-one for me. At fourteen, my relationship with my father started to deteriorate, and this was due to my maturing into a woman, and also in my thought processes becoming separate and independent of my fathers. At twenty-one, I moved out of my parents house, and out of the state for the first time; experiencing what it was like to live on my own, thru my owns means and work. And now...it's coming around again to test me again. Saturn has his pen in hand, and wants to know what I have learned about being a grown up, and we'll see what my final grade is this time.

So this is what I'm feeling now. The clock started ticking again recently, and it's getting louder and louder, and I feel an almost obsessive need to clean my home, my mind, my body, my psyche, maybe even my heart. I feel the need to work hard, and accomplish rather than sitting around over summer break. I won't stop until it's done, and it will get done. I feel like Saturn is waiting and watching even now, and is ticking off points based on what I am doing now. And when he pays me a housecall, I guess I'll see how much I have learned, and what kind of score I get for being an adult after his test is over. Until then, I will keep cleaning and working on my inner world until I am satisfied with the results.

Forgot Some Things...

2009-08-07T11:13:00.000-07:00

I looked over that to do list I wrote a while ago, and realized that I had left some things out. Hmm, how to express this? I have other things that I want to learn to do they're just--umm, not exactly, PG-13 rated. Let's just say that there are other things that I hope I get a chance to learn that involve; another person, patience, concentration, and probably a great deal of courage on my part. Urgh, I should just stop there, and not think about anybody's parts. Maybe someday soon, I'll get to do all that lovely research on human anatomy. You know me, life's eternal student. And I generally am also a perfectionist, which means I would keep working at it until I had just about perfected my, er, technique. (whisper) I hope my...teacher will give me an A at the end of...(shudder) final exams. Purr, gotta go before I say something very unladylike, and ruin my clean streak. I think that last line was dirty enough. Eh, if you know me, then you know what I mean. Besides, a dirty mind is a horrible thing to waste. *grin*

Lessons from my Bed

2009-08-05T19:52:00.000-07:00

I recently realized that in moving my bed, I have been slowly learning more and more about intimacy. I didn't expect to learn anything really. I just thought that moving the bed was the final step, and that was all. Not really, as the universe would probably say.

Every morning there seems to be something else to think about. A few days ago, I realized that I don't share my pillow very well, and even though I have four of the same pillows, one in particular is mine. I hadn't considered what it would be like to have to share it with him if he ever wanted to sleep here. I realized that I was possessive, and uncompromising over a pillow, and realized that I needed to work on that with the time I had. So, last night I deliberately slept on one of the other pillows; and not only that, but the pillow that looked the most uncomfortable, which belongs to me, but which I have never used, just continued to wash. I was surprised to discover that it was as soft as the other, and I slept comfortably that night.

I realized that I needed to even out my quilt and the scarf that hangs over the end of my bed today. I pulled the bed out further, realizing that a potential partner would probably need as much room as I have on my side on his. I have had to start considering equality in my bedroom when I look at my bed. I have noticed that I will need to learn to share what I have better, and not be possessive over objects. I realized that I will need to give the same as I get, and that we would be equals. But when I pulled the bed over, I automatically wanted to put it back in the corner so it "looked better" which probably translates into, "it's the way I'm used to it being, and that's what's important."

When I pulled the bed out so there was equal space to move on both sides, I noticed the quilt, and scarf were unevenly distributed to my side in order to make it look nice, and again, I had to catch myself and rethink my mindset. I learned that just because, he's a guy doesn't mean that he might not like something to look nice, and probably would want it to look nice for both of us. I sighed, and for the first time, I moved the scarf and quilt so that there was an equal amount on each side of the bed, looking more complimentary, rather than one-sided. I'm sure all of this is loaded with symbolism and real meaning, and a lot of it I see, but....it's still a lot to take in.

I hadn't realized how like the stereotypical only child I was behaving like. I am five years apart from my brother, and the only girl, so I think some of the more negative traits carried over to me. I didn't even think of sharing, or having to share my stuff, or space. I just thought of things being my way, and that was it. I realized that I wasn't considering the other person's feelings, or wishes, and just expected that he would want what I wanted which was selfish, and mean. I learned that all these adjustments in my physical world seem to be causing adjustments in my mental, and emotional worlds as well. I see the physical change, and my mind and spirit have to change with them, and learn to live with it.

I still have to stop myself from moving the bed back, and leaving things "as they were, and have always been." I realized that I have slept alone my whole life, and never had to consider another in my bed. I have always kept my bed up against a wall since I can remember, and I am having to break myself of this "alone" habit, and learn to do things as if I was part of a couple. According to concepts of feng shui, and also my own interpretations, a bed with only one side to get in and out of belongs to someone that sleeps in that bed alone. A bed with two sides open to allowing two people to come and go, is more symbolic of two people sharing it.

Who knows when I'll be ready to let someone else spend a night with me, but....whenever it is, I can only hope I try, and not disappear into a puff of smoke and masks. Maybe....it would feel good to wake up next to a man that I love sleeping peacefully near me the next morning. I guess I'll just keeping taking lessons from my own bed, and learn as much as possible before the opportunity present itself.
Yawn, I'm tired. I think tonight when I get ready for bed I'll try getting in on "the other side" for a change. It might be nice to experience what it would be like for him once.
(now if I can just find a night stand narrow enough to put in between the bed and the wall space, I think things will feel good and more comfortable.)

Good night,
Mina.

Chasing Fatima Pt. 3 (a record breaker, I know. I'll try not to do it again)

2009-08-04T10:55:00.001-07:00

What was this moment of self-realization, and a rather brilliant, honest, possible root of it all deduction that I told my mother recently? Fatima. The woman I was supposed to be named for, and who was my last surviving grandparent up until last May. I only met her once, but she had more of an impact on me than I realized at the time, and probably more than I know now.

I met her, and fell in love with her in that brief couple of days I was lucky enough to have with her all those years ago. I was ten years old when I saw her, and was instantly hypnotized, and transfixed by her. I had never seen anyone that looked like her before, and was probably visibly staring for a good five minutes upon being introduced. She didn't speak any English, and I didn't speak Arabic, and we really didn't say much to each other we just.....were present in each others moment, and likely trading energies like nothing I have encountered before.

And what, pray tell did she look like? Beautiful. She was the most beautiful human being I had ever seen, and still holds part of that spot inside me. It was her skin that had me mesmerized. Her skin.......was white, but different. It was, like milk, or cream, or like the wild jasmine flowers we found there overseas. It was perfect to me. It was flawless, unblemished, and the densest, milkiest, yet toned shade of cream I had seen. I remember just sitting near her, and watching her. She didn't seem bothered by me at all, and was amused I was so fascinated by her.

I remember getting in trouble with my father because, I reached out to touch her skin, I couldn't help myself. My hand was slapped away, and a terse order was barked out by my parent. I was being rude, weird, and should leave her alone. She didn't seem to mind at all, but I left her alone, continuing to watch her movements, and gestures from a safer distance. I remember we had a few odd habits in common which my parents found unusual but amusing to watch us do the same thing at the same time, and wonder what everyone was looking at.

I even remember her scent to this day. I remember that scene in Forrest Gump when he sits down on the bus and sees Jenny for the first time, and says she looked like an angel. That expression of wonder on his face in that scene remind me strongly of what it was like to meet Fatima. She looked like an angel to me, and I couldn't understand what she was doing sitting in our hotel room chatting with my father about random everyday things. I remember that music from the scene as well, and it makes me smile.

And this, was my end all explanation for my mother in our discussion of male beauty, and our very differing opinions on it. I said that I thought it originated with that, with seeing her, and falling in love with her on some levels. She was the most attractive, beautiful, touchable person I had ever seen. To me, she is my aesthetic for male beauty, as odd as that is. My father's mother is who I seek in my partners in terms of physical beauty. I look for her skin on a male, and am instantly aware of them physically the rare times I find it. I fell for a man that was significantly older than me, had that quirkiness and who cares what anyone else thinks of me, and he had her skin. That beautiful, creamy vanilla, virtually flawless skin. My mother didn't take this explanation much better than the others, but I think it has effectively stopped our confusion on the topic. In a way, I gave her the answer she wanted, but not in any way I think she expected.

So, hence the title of this long winded post. I seek her in a male form. I chase Fatima in the men I see, and very, very rarely find her. I have noticed that her particular skin color is very rare, and most Caucasians don't have it. I have a long list of traits mentally and emotionally that I find attractive in men, but in terms of physically; I seek a man with her skin, and her pluckiness, and optimism even in the face of hardship and pain, she still had the best sense of humor I have ever seen, and I loved her for it.

I wonder where this particular shade originated, and think it might be a throwback to possible northern Spanish relatives in someone's distant ancestry. You see, my grandmother was not an Arab, but one of the indigenous people's of North Africa, and likely originally hailed from Northern Spain. Her first language was not Arabic, and she spoke it (Arabic) with an audible accent. I also remember the sound of her voice, oddly enough. She was not originally a Muslim, but more linked to Pagan, earth based religions the Arabs, like many settlers around the world call "witchcraft."

It is ironic that the year she died, I also lost the man that I managed to find that reminded me so much of her physically. I lost two people that I loved within a few months, but only now am realizing the wider range of implications, and connections these two people shared. I miss them both, but I'm glad to have figured this out. Maybe, if I'm really lucky, I'll find another male that has her skin that practically hypnotizes me, and makes me, the most reluctant to accept even a hug from friends, want to reach out and touch that gorgeous, rare skin, wrapped up in an attractive male body.

And maybe I am narcissistic in terms of what I want in a mate. I find someone that shares my bloodline to be the most attractive to me in men. Yet....perhaps....I find the not apparent, obvious parts about who I am the most attractive in a mate. I find what is me, and yet not obviously me beautiful. It's the parts of me that are hidden that are the most beautiful to me mirrored in others. It's the rare, unexpected, deep, takes a genius to figure it out pieces that draw me to another. I hope that makes sense, and am amazed you have read this far. I think I have worked off a meal, and need another after all this deep reasoning. It's just about time for lunch anyway, so I'll end it, and say....this is me.

Chasing Fatima Pt. 2

2009-08-04T10:19:00.000-07:00

Do I find arab men attractive? Well (fidgeting with shoes) not usually, no. And here is where my loving mother stops dead in her tracks, and shakes her pretty head in confusion and worry. I don't mean to worry her, it just seems to happen sometimes. I usually get the almost childlike question of "but why?", or "this makes no sense."

I always had my personal, conscious reasons for my mother, but they never seemed enough for her, and the conversation was left with that unfinished, confused, suspicious feeling. I said that I know what I look like, and I like to look at men that look nothing like me. Men that look like me don't do much for my hormones. Granted, I have seen some men with brown skin that I thought were very attractive, sometimes the most attractive in the room, but I have not, as yet, been attracted to them on a physical level. I also get annoyed rather quickly when someone, in all helpfulness, tries to match me up to my "type" when in a public setting and we can people watch. They invariably choose men that look like my cousins or very much like I look.

Why does this irk me to no end? Hmm, I think because it makes me feel like an animal getting on Noah's theoretical ark. How nice, they match, let's put those two together, don't they look well next to each other? I know some people are rather....narcissistic in terms of who they choose for a mate, and many end up with partners that if you didn't know they were lovers, would think they are cousins, or brother and sister from their closeness in physical appearance. Thank goddess for body language, or I'd really get myself into a jam some days.

I feel like some sort of exotic caged animal, and also like a bookend, or some other matched set of something. I find it rather close minded that most people don't think beyond the end of their noses, or my nose perhaps, and realize that I can find people of varying shades and types beautiful to look at, and even be highly attracted to them.

For some of my more nasty critics, this is where they say something snide along the lines that I must not find myself attractive, and am insulting my "race," or heritage. There's that pesky word again. And besides, I have no heritage apart from what I make of it. And in terms of how I see myself, well....I'll let you in on a little secret: I can be kind of vain about my physical appearance, and usually find myself quite pretty to look at, and walk out of my front door some days thinking "damn I look good." So, the attractiveness is out as an argument because, well, I know I'm pretty, and could be stunningly gorgeous if I had the time, money, and the inclination to be. It's my unusual features that make me feel pretty, and the not looking like the majority of people I meet that I love.

Where was I? Oh, regarding my mothers confusion. Suffice to say that the conditioning and assimilation techniques used by my parents didn't work. Is anyone really surprised by that, knowing me? I could write a dissertation on this subject, but I'll try and cut to the chase. My mother always says "but your father is brown, I don't get it." At this point I pause to shudder, while hearing the growing irritation in my fore bearers voice.

Yes, he is. What does that have to do with my physical, and sexual attraction to the men around me? Personally, (and my mother always makes that irritated mother noise at this point); I don't consider my father attractive, meh.
This conversation went on for quite some time, with my mother's confusion rising along with my usually lengthy patience unraveling quickly. I finally had an epiphany. It was one of those double moments. I remembered an epiphany I had had while talking to a guy with a parent like mine, and the same concerns, and I also remembered it while talking to my mom. I felt pretty proud of myself in that moment.

Chasing Fatima Part 1

2009-08-04T09:31:00.000-07:00

I suppose that is a rather unusual title, but it has a purpose, as I hope I will be able to explain. I guess the best way to start things is to start at the beginning, or as close to it as possible, and add in the pieces as I go along.

In a recent conversation with mother, we ended up on a somewhat similar discussion thread involving my apparent attraction to Caucasian men. My mother has always found this illogical, and always has questioned me on where I think this peculiarity originated. I always gave her brief, not really sure myself reasons, but none of them seemed to add up to her.

(heavy sigh) Honesty doesn't always fit the politically correct mold does it? Anyway, she sees it as odd, and an area of concern since both of my parents are, for lack of a better word, brown. She didn't understand why once I hit puberty, the guys that I took the most interest in were white guys. Granted, at my high school there wasn't exactly a diverse range of people to look at, but I made do, and was happy with some of what I saw.

But, this conversation went on, and she seemed more and more confused by my lack of attraction to men that were "like me." This phrase, or the whole dating within one's race makes me want to rage and let my sharp tongued other twin out to play. Firstly, race is a social construct, and has no basis in biology. There is no such thing as a black gene, or white gene, or anything remotely like it. People have ethnicities that they may chose to associate with, but beyond that, we're really all about the same on the inside. ( I am probably one of the last people to argue with on this; I have a degree in anthropology, did a cluster of courses in women's studies with a concentration in women of color issues, and am multi-ethnic, having no "race" to adher to)

Where was I? Oh yes. So race is a figment of some people's imaginations. Besides that, I have no "race" if there was such a thing. Depending on what state I'm in, people (some people) mistake me for an ethnicity that I'm not. I usually jokingly tell people it depends on what border I just crossed. In California, I am labeled Mexican, and expected to speak Spanish, which I don't. When I come back to Oregon, I am labeled Indian. Funny how people just decide what I am, and leave me in that box unless I divulge my entire pedigree. I've stopped telling people my rather long, complicated birth history, why bother?

So, since I truly have no one ethnicity that I can say I am more of than another, I don't have a "race" to be attracted to, right? Wrong. Goddess, this is a going to be a two part post I can feel it. Remember the term passing? It can be used to describe anyone passing as something they really aren't in society for whatever reason. Sometimes, however, society gives out these passes to us when we are children, and we go from there with it. I was always considered an Arab girl, and was treated like one for most of my life. My brother, on the other hand, was treated like a caucasian boy, and has grown with that experience into his own life. I am not putting any negativity on either one of us, just stating my observations as a child, sister, and now social scientist.

Having been raised to pretty much think of myself as Arab, and black, two out of five, things were....interesting. My parents tried to get me to associate myself with Arabs for the most part, thinking that I would have more in common with them, and that we would "get along." Well, it's not like any fights ever broke out, but I never felt a strong connection to many that I met, and always felt like the odd one out, and not really a part of their culture or lifestyle. Another useful thread to add to this ever more complicated point I am trying to make is that the only "half bloods" I ever encountered, even to this day, have been children borne of an Arab father, and a Caucasian mother. That was something else to adjust to. Nothing overtly negative, but the confused comment of "but I thought you said your mother was an American," after someone having seen my brown skinned Mom took a little explaining, and a lot of patience. ( and you thought my life was a cup of tea and roses)

But! Because of this association and attempted assimilation into a group, my mother assumed that I would "naturally" find Arab men to be the most attractive as potential mates and boyfriends. (grin) Oh dear, oh deary me. This is where the fun comes in, and my rather dark ironic humor might slip out at unexpected moments. Have fun with it, and laugh when you want to, I do. All right, I need to stop chuckling to myself and move on with this next thread of data.

A List of Of 'To Do's' From My Fondest Dreams and Secret Wishes

2009-07-30T21:26:00.000-07:00

Hopefully, that makes sense as a title. I started thinking about all of the things that I would love to learn or do that I have dreamed of doing for some time. These things have always remained dreams, or far away wishes because, I thought that I either didn't have the time, or the way to accomplish them. So, I thought I'd post them here, and put them out there in my way. (these are in no real order, just the order they appeared in my mind)

*Take up the bow again, and see if my hands still have the skill to get that beautiful wood so hot it almost burns my palms. In other words; start practicing, playing, and maybe even performing in concert with my violin again.

*Learn self defense from an eastern standpoint (seriously), namely; the martial arts. Also learn a better mind body connection, and a calmer self as a result of these teachings. In wanting to learn this art form, I want to learn how to live in peace with myself, rather than at war within. I do not want to dominate, cause pain to, or hurt another human being. If I wanted to do that, I wouldn't insult the martial arts, or its teachers by coming to them to learn such negative things.

*Learn how to play the guitar.

*Learn how to speak Arabic fluently.

*Find some healthy way to be able to run a few miles a day if I want to without ending up on the ground with a circle of very concerned worried faces asking me if I need an ambulance. (that gets old you know)

*Find a tailor that can inexpensively, and skillfully make me blouses that really fit all of my curves, not just some of them. (I really do love my full figured, narrow waist body. It's the clothing designers that don't seem to like it very much.)

*Learn how to drive more defensively, with confidence and skill. (nervous driver)

*Learn how to waltz-with a partner. (this reminds me of something...but what?)

*Learn how to play chess. (mind games and strategy, purr)

*Learn how to give a skilled massage. (does this really need to be explained?)

*Find a proper mentor/teacher to help me understand, better work with, and use my "gifts." (oi, help!)

*Learn how to fence.

*Learn how to ride a horse. (and I don't mean a pony, I mean a big, slightly uncontrollable, strong horse. It sounds like fun)

Hmm, I think that's all of my dreamy to do list that I have been adding to since I was a child. Who knows if any of it can become a reality at some point, but I'll try and keep my senses open to the possibilities, and my mind open and hopeful to the universe's many hints that usually come crashing into my life with a bang.

P.S. and my tooth is fine, and healing nicely. If anyone wonders why I haven't published anything lately, blame it on the tooth extraction, and the over one hundred degree temps I've been living with for the last four days.

Music that Soothes My Ravaged Soul

2009-07-16T22:33:00.000-07:00

It started out as a search for a song I heard in the drug store today, and ended with.....this. The song is called 3 Gymnopedies something. I can't remember the rest, but the music.....has definitely had an effect on my mind and body. I feel so calm. My heart beat has slowed down, and I don't feel tense, or worried, or afraid, or numb, just...calm.

The song reminds me of the rain. It reminds me of cool damp air, and raindrops falling on the city as I sit in a small cafe, or library, watching the city pass by me outside. I can almost smell those cold Fall raindrops, almost hear them gently falling on the sidewalks, and streets. It reminds me of water for some reason. Of the ocean, and salty cold air, of the forest streams. It reminds me of moving water, not stationary water. I remember that it's just another life, not some monotony, or punishment, or agony.

I remember walking home in the rain in the Fall, thinking deeply within my mind; not really paying much attention to the people hurrying along around me. I remember my life so far, if that makes sense, and what I have done with it, and what I hope to still do with it. It's funny, but when it rains things seem so still to me, even though they are in greater motion than usual. I feel.....calm, yet aware of myself, and my surroundings. It's a rare sensation to feel a deep, mental and physical sense of calm, and also be mentally alert and awake. Maybe I should listen to music like this more often. The cat seems to have calmed down as well, and looks as drowsy, and peaceful as I feel.

This song has a touch of sadness in it as well to me. It sounds like memories, and saying goodbye. I wonder who the composer was remembering? or who he said goodbye to?
I think I feel calmer after listening to this song that I do after meditating. I think now is a perfect time to go to sleep; with the memories, and the raindrops lulling me to sleep, and the lingering goodbye in the song.

Good night everyone, and pleasant dreams,
Love,
Mina.

Almost Forgot

2009-07-14T22:17:00.000-07:00

Oh yeah, and the wisdom tooth comes out next week. I'm so excited I don't know if I'll be able to wait that long. I'll try and remember to post my feelings and observations pre, during, and post extraction. At-least it'll be something different to write about......(wince).

Unexpected Letters...

2009-07-14T20:21:00.000-07:00

Today, I was supposed to start the immense job of cleaning out my walk in closet. I didn't and was quite tired today. It has been an odd day so far. I recently discovered that, if I take a really hot shower, and forget to close the bathroom door, my hallway smoke detector can go off from the high temperatures. Now I know.

I was cleaning out my old e-mails, and found the one's that started my closer relationship with my friend. I didn't have the heart to delete them; not yet at-least. I read them, but I felt....almost nothing. When I tried to focus on them, and what it was like, I also got nothing. It felt like I was reading about another life, and I guess in many ways it was. My life now is so different from that brief taste of love that I read the words with a coldness, and distance that I don't understand. I almost wonder if the tiny blip of a relationship that I had, in terms of time, is becoming more and more like a grain of sand in an ocean that might be called my life.

I know that time doesn't have a thing to do with emotions, or with people's connections to each other; something I also learned the hard way. But.....I don't feel anything in terms of a response to my own past words. I barely remember, and this still confuses me greatly. Am I supposed to create this distance? Am I supposed to forget so much? Am I supposed to be numb to what I had, and only remember the valuable lessons learned at the highest price imaginable? If that's the case, I think I am getting there. My mind is such a confused mass of thoughts, and words from friends, and poetry, and images.

Goddess, I'm tired universe, so very very tired. I know this is partly due to the pain of my broken wisdom tooth (hmm, a hint there?), the stress of long travel to my Chiropractor, the stress of finances and bills. The unexpected cost of dental work. The ending of another cycle for me, which always makes me sleepy, and the wanting of a mate, or another intimate. Yeah, that sounds about right. (Yawn) So sleepy. I feel so lazy being tired in the early evening. Eh, I guess I should try to listen to my body for once, and just move with it rather than against it. What will tomorrow bring? Who knows, but that's why I'm still here; curiousity, and a ridiculous undying optimism for my own life, regardless of what it drops into my lap.

Nightmares of Giant Bowls of Oatmeal. (let me explain)

2009-07-12T22:17:00.000-07:00

It hurts. What hurts you ask? Well, for once it's not my heart that's bothering me, it's something a little more.....banal, and dull: my tooth. I thought I was such a good brusher, and was really reaching all the way back there, but apparently I was wrong. One of my upper wisdom teeth has a serious cavity, and I have been feeling it throbbing for the last week. First I thought it was the cut that I made in the side of my cheek from biting it accidentally, then I thought it was a piece of food stuck in it, then I just didn't care I wanted it to stop hurting.

I let my mother, a dental person look at it, and she confirmed I have a cavity in one of my wisdom teeth. I felt like a failure, and an affront to the family. Why? because my family is dentistry. I have a mother who used to floss my teeth for me when I was three, and drilled good dental hygiene into me with the about the same level of fervor as religion. I gave up the religion, but kept taking care of my teeth; or so I thought. She said that it wasn't that big of a deal, and said that I have excellent teeth compared to most people, and that I should just get it fixed soon.

(grumble) Should've taken better care of that tooth. Of-course, the two options that were given to me, depending on the severity of the cavity is either; a) have it filled, which most dentists hate doing because it's so far back in such a small space, or b.) have it pulled, which......doesn't sound all that good to me either. Mother said my tooth looked the color of oatmeal, and now I get the feeling I'm going to have nightmares about giant bowls of oatmeal chasing me in my sleep. Don't laugh, this is serious, I'm in pain. Well......I was in pain up until about an hour ago when the ibuprofen kicked in; now I almost feel fine.

Of-course.....being the highly inquisitive creature I am. ( I swear to goddess, I must've been one of those hyperactive mice that lives up in the mountains, and doesn't get many human visitors, that you see on nature programs sometimes, running around like their tail is on fire just to get close to the camera lens to sniff it.) But, being curious to no end, I decided to objectively, and scientifically take a look at what I might be in for this week; an extraction.
This was not a good idea. I was horrified by people getting them cut out of their mouths by sharp scalpels, and teeth swimming in blood. I almost made myself sick watching a few, and didn't manage to sit thru a full extraction until a few minutes of rest from it. Oh my god it looked rough. My wisdom tooth is in perfectly straight, it just needs pulling, not cutting, and I couldn't find a single video of a normal tooth pulling, it was all impacted wisdom teeth.

And they are HUGE! I know it's the largest tooth we have but damn. I also worry because it's connected to my jawbone, which doesn't sound good, and is kind of close to my sinuses. My mother of-course, said that it won't be big deal, and to get a well established, oral surgeon that specialized in wisdom teeth to pull it. (cringe) For once in my life, I am slightly afraid of going to the dentist. I've never had a tooth pulled. I've also never had anything that is a part of me removed. I don't wanna go! Maybe I can keep the tooth. My mother would love that, she'd add it to the collection of my baby teeth she has saved up all these years. I know, odd; but apparently it 's kind of a common thing for mom's. (and I thought I was crazy)

And I'm going to get the serious med's to take home for the serious pain, and.....I don't know how I'll do being loopy all day. My co-workers are going to get a kick out of this, you know that right? I don't like drinking, and this is not exactly going to be an optional kind of loopy, but a necessity. I still don't want to. I still can't get over all those poor miserable people I watched videos of getting them cut out of their gums. Oooh, at-least that's not me. My mom asked me if it hurt all the time, and I told her that I could feel it throbbing in time with my pulse since last week, and she shook her head, saying sadly that I would probably have to have it pulled if it's disrupting the nerve.

What I do know, is that I can't keep going like this. I don't take painkillers all day, so I am in pain most of the day until it's time to go to sleep, then I take some to get some rest, but.....I don't want to go thru another week of this. I can feel my upper jaw, my cheekbone, it all throbs, and I don't like it. I know this is my fault for not taking better care of it, but mother said that most people can't reach that far back skillfully with a toothbrush. This didn't cheer me up much. I'll be parting with a living piece of myself to spare the rest of me any more pain. I guess it makes sense, but I am still trying to not freak out, and cringe away from the people that I was pretty much raised around; dentists and dental offices.

Oh! I can feel the throb just barely, dully pounding. Well, I think that explains it for now. I've got a long day tomorrow, so I am going to try and get some sleep before these pills wear off, and hopefully not dream about giant bowls of oatmeal chasing me around with dental gadgets in their "hands."

Random Notes that Strike a Chord...

2009-07-09T22:01:00.000-07:00

In my current mode of cleaning out all of the things in my space that are not serving a purpose in my life, I ran into a poem that I think might have been from one of my classes a few years ago. I don't feel up to writing the poem out itself, but it's titled "The Difference Between Strength and Courage," and was written anonymously. I read thru it and found it's words quite true, and not at all simple, or easy to accomplish.

Another quote I found randomly amongst my things was this one from CG Jung, one of my favorite psychologists of all time.

"A Man/Woman who has not passed thru the inferno of his passions has never overcome them."

And that, my friends, is just about where I am in my journey. I have learned that if I do not fully immerse myself in whatever I am feeling, it will not go away, nor evolve or change into something more likely to be manageable and useful to me. It probably makes little sense, but that has never stopped me before. If I am not willing and courageous enough to dive as deep as my rather intense emotions go, I will never learn the full extent of what makes them up, nor will I learn to use them in more constructive ways in daily life. There is always a lesson to be learned somewhere for me, and in the case of passionate emotions well.....the more frightening the experience, the more I seem to learn which helps me in many ways.

In a rather surprising turn of events, I am realizing that a wish I made a while ago is in the process of being achieved. I wished once to be able to understand what a Scorpio Moon felt like, and what drives them ect, in order to better relate to the many friends I have with this placement. And in my present moment; I am getting what seems to be a very vivid look thru my own lens of what it can be like for them, and how they truly react and feel about things. In many ways I have learned a lot of respect and admiration for them, and their way of living in this world emotionally. I know I am not one of them, but I think I am quickly taking a......kind of field trip that might last a while thru their world, and I can't say that I regret it. I am getting a glimpse of what it might be like to feel like they do, and yet, I know it is temporary, and soon I will be able to take my hard earned knowledge and apply it to my life in many ways; like most Gemini's would do.

I Made Up a Joke to Illustrate....

2009-07-07T04:12:00.000-07:00

What happens when you put an empath in the room with a narcissist? Nothing; because the empath can feel a distinct lack of empathy and concern directed their way, and the narcisist can't feel anything but themselves.

Yeah....I've met a few people like this, and it's rather frightening to watch. It's like watching an alien life form function on earth. And if anyone could spot an alien, or alternate form of human, you'd think it'd be me. I'm not exactly like most people. But....I think I should just wish for patience for myself when around such people, and happiness and peace for them; it seems like the best approach.

And, my hint from the universe today? which is always randomly, and unpredictably found somewhere in my life?
"Don't let anybody make you feel guilty for wanting what you want."
Something I should probably remember a little more often, thanks universe as always.

Moon in Scorpio; I feel like being blunt all of a sudden.....

2009-07-02T12:39:00.000-07:00

I read a rather interesting quote last night from an astrologer regarding my particular Venus aspects, which.....are not quite the most positive in the world. It went something like: "those who love you don't understand you, and those who understand you don't love you." Sounds about right from here, and guess what? I'm getting really, really, really tired of it, and am going to try and see what I can do about changing this pattern.

If anyone is interested in seeing a more detailed account of what my Venusian energy looks like in my chart, here it is; with my regrets.

*Venus in detriment in Aries
*Venus in the 12th house of sorrows and self undoing
*Venus trine Neptune in the 8th house of sex, death, and other people's stuff.
(Neptune is the god of the sea, and illusions)
*Venus as chart ruler with Taurus rising (can't seem to escape it when it's everywhere)
*Venus square Saturn (the god of karma, restrictions, and dullness)
*Venus square Pluto (the god of the underworld, strong passions, and death)

Hmm, I think that might be it. If I looked at my chart as if it was someone else's, I wouldn't know what to tell them. A chart ruled by the most sensual, lovey, earthy sign in the zodiac, and also one of the strongest in stamina, and a fixed unchanging sign, with some of the most negative or hindering aspects possible to the person's actual venus sign itself. It looks like the deck is stacked against me, yet I can't seem to give up with my single minded, fixed pursuit of pleasures of the flesh in all its forms. Let's just say that right now; my gas tank is just about on empty, and I don't want to refill it right now.

I still am going to clean out my apartment of anything that doesn't have a real purpose for me, and I am probably doing it now because, I have started the job, and generally, once I start something I finish it. Starting something is what takes the most work.

But to try and put those energies into a better context....

Venus is in detriment or is considered not good in Aries because Venus is feminine, and Aries is masculinity personified, ruled by Mars. If my Venus was in any other house other than the 12th, this would mean that I pursue my love interests more like a man, and chase and charm them with my fiery energy.

Having Venus in the 12th house can be written about for days, but let's just say that having the planet that rules my affections and love affairs in the house of illusion, self-undoing, the soul itself, and institutions is not really a placement that signals a love life, but rather a life of selfless service to others, and putting one's own love life away to serve others instead.

Venus trine Neptune just raises the lack of clarity in love relationships, and brings a level of blurriness that is difficult to clear away.

Venus opposite Saturn can mean trouble with one's father, and also a stoic, work oriented, cool nature is opposing a warm, loving nature. It can also indicate that karma itself is directly opposing any love interests I may develop. Saturn is the planet of restrictions and holding back for tradition, and a stiff upper lips sake.

Venus opposite Pluto....hmm, the sign furthest from the sun, and a dense, cold rock. Ruler of Scorpio. Think Hades in competition with Aphrodite.

I also have to remember that my own fiery Venus in Aries is in a house ruled by watery Pisces. My own interpretation of this is to think of a heart on fire (for the regular Venus in Aries placement), and for me, I think of a heart on fire that is plunged underwater, creating a bubbling boil at the surface of the water. I also think that the water itself probably heats up, much like water does when there is a volcano underneath it, and that is how I more optimistically see my 12th house Venus. It's still there, but it doesn't look like, or behave like the traditional Venus in Aries placement. It still burns, but under water, and it creates bubbles, steam, and hot water, rather than fire. There must be someone out there that finds that mental picture intriguing.....

Taurus ruling the entire chart can be interpreted by me loving good food, soft clothes, and good sex, frequentely. Is this really the case for me? No, most definitely no. But the energy is always there, just waiting to be used. What do I make of all this? Well, if I were to go with my first reaction, it would that I am not meant to be in a couple type relationship, and anytime I find it, it will also be followed by soul deep pain, and restrictions. What do I think of all this if I ponder it for a while? Well, it sounds about right so far, and I don't have much concern for the future in this area of life. Do I care how my mood is interpreted? No. Do I feel the need to apologize? No. Have I lost all hope? No, there's still a small sliver left, just in case.

I Doubt

2009-06-25T22:19:00.000-07:00

Recently, I have had a change of mind, and I don't know where it came from, but it's with me almost always. I have doubts regarding finding love again. I have lost a lot of my own inner faith in myself, and my abilities to be in a close relationship with another.

I wish I knew where this feeling has sprung up from, or where it originated, but I don't. I doubt that I would be able to see another man for himself, rather than comparing him to my dead love. I doubt that I would be able to love again, and I almost feel certain that I don't have the ability to love another like I loved my departed love. I can't imagine anyone but him, and the only face that makes me think it'll work is still his. I know that doesn't make much sense, and I can only logically explain it by saying that I have no one that makes me feel like that now.

I doubt so much. It really is a question of personal faith for me, and it is on very shaky ground right now. I don't have very much faith in being that happy again, and I think I have become comfortable in a state of mild unhappiness. I think that perhaps, it has been with me for long enough to feel like a part of me now, and being as happy as I was with my friend sounds.....like another world, and someone else. I have a hard time connecting those memories to myself, and to the possibility of finding it again.

I honestly don't know if I have it in me to be in another relationship. I don't know if physical closeness is something I need anymore, so I doubt. I remember last summer as if it were surreal, and not really reality. It seems to have become the exception in my life, rather than the rule. I'm sure I am probably slightly depressed after what happened to me last fall, and I try and find little things to make me happy, but there is always something missing; only now, I don't have much faith in my abilities to find it, much less let it in and be happy with it.

What happened to my mind? Or maybe more importantly? What happened to my heart? I seem to have either consciously, or subconsciously separated from the feelings of love and desire that I used to feel almost constantly. I feel like all those emotions got dropped into a well, and I can't get them back without pain, fear, and suffering.

I don't remember anymore how it felt to be loved. Or how it felt to be that happy. I remember his voice, and his eyes, and his smile, and his love, but.....I don't remember the rest. I remember the pain, and can draw those memories to the surface easily, causing shock waves of pain and confusion to course thru my body with the speed and destructiveness of a gasoline fire, but the love, and the emotions, and the physical sensations........I feel like I am trying to understand another person that I don't know very well, and that I'm really not that concerned with. I feel like someone else is telling me a story anytime I remember what it was like to be part of a loving couple. I listen attentively, and nod politely, but I don't feel anything, and that worries me.

I feel like some cold blooded creature that isn't fully human anymore. Like some alien life form that is merely observing human behavior, but not participating in it. I don't know what this is, but is seems to be sticking with me, and has been with me for about a month, maybe longer now. It's like my mind decided to cut off those memories and emotions for some sort of survival mechanism, and while I don't want to be in pain all the time, I was getting used to it, and learning to ride the waves of feelings.

But......I doubt. I doubt that an ordinary, or even extraordinary man would be able to try be with me. I doubt that another man would take on such a challenge. A girl that has only had one intimate partnership, and who has always been two steps ahead of most men, and who now seems to have built a wall of ice around what was once a big soft heart. I don't know if I could even find those parts of my heart right now. But....what manner of man would.....want me that much. Want me enough to try? I'm almost out of energy, and optimism, and I just wonder what else I could be doing rather than wishing for someone that might not even exist. He'd be one in a million at-least; what are the odds, universe?

Longing

2009-06-24T22:51:00.000-07:00

Goddess, I long for a mate, or more specfically, my mate. I made a rather long distance trip to try and fix what the wrong moves (I knew they were the wrong moves) in my latest yoga session had done to my lower back. It's times like this that I remember that I sprained my spine and pelvis only six years ago, and that my body still seems to remember it from time to time. I have a small amount of scar tissue on one side of my lower back, and when I decide to try something too strenuous on those muscles, my back protests, and causes the need for a phone call and an appointment. I always feel like such a clutz when I make that call to the office. "Yeah; I did it again, and I'm in pain, when can I come in?" They probably get calls like that all the time, but I still feel pretty clumsy, and not at my most intelligent when I have to call and wait breathlessly for the soonest appointment to get myself fixed. And they always say something along the lines of: "was it the yoga again? you've got to be careful." (sulk) I know. I'm normally careful, but sometimes I get a little too daring, and this is what happens; a trip clear out to the east side of town, and two forms of transportation to get there.

But! What I noticed while on the train, and traveling to and from home was the couples. Old couples, young couples, couples with children that I glared darkly at in the hopes of scaring them into silence. Then when I got home I stumbled across a message board filled with e-mails and letters from people in relationships of varying levels of commitment that were having trouble simply being with their mate. Goddess, I long. I wondered if they realized how lucky they were, and how there are people all around them that would do anything for even a tenth of their happiness.

And on this rather warm night in the city, I wish I had someone to talk to, and laugh with, and try out my new found hobby of cooking on. Someone that could out stare me. That might not seem like much, but most people, just about everyone really doesn't seem to be able to hold eye contact longer than me. Granted, I have staring contests with my cat when I get bored but.....most can't do it. Men back down, and fidget around me. They look away, and seem embarrassed by my curious gaze. I know, I know, I'm "intimidating" right? That seems to be the general consensus among my friends when I ask them about this phenomena, but.....I'm still human, or at-least mostly human, and I still want to love, and be loved in return like the song lyrics say.

But.....I watch, from my distance. From behind my dark sunglasses which serve as an excellent shield between my light sensitive eyes and the sun. I suppose they are also an obvious barrier between myself and the public world, and I like that on some levels. I don't know why, but I like being able to watch people without them being able to see my eyes. If I didn't know better, I'd think that my shaded gaze is more......easy going for most people. I can say that I have out stared, and worried everyone, but that's not true. There have, so far been two men that have held my gaze longer than I could hold theirs. One was my former friend, and other was a man I know nothing about. I ran into him a little while ago, and he seemed to be.....watching me. I received no vibes from him that suggested he was not an honest, safe person in the public environment we occupied, but.....he almost seemed to, well, enjoy watching me move. I didn't know him, or recognize him. Hmph, it'd be rather hard not to remember him if I had met him. He was quite handsome. Anyway, another dream floating thru my mind to write about, nothing more or less. And yet.....the question I kept asking myself for the rest of that day was: did he know me? Impossible.

It was unnerving and arousing all at the same time. I guess I could call it lust at first sight but...I get the feeling there was....something else there that I can't figure out as of yet. I doubt I will ever meet this man, or hear his voice, much less befriend him but.....he out stared me, and seemed to enjoy making me blush pink and bolt for the nearest shadow.

Eh, I was supposed to post this about a month ago, but I totally forgot about it so; here it is in all it's random loveliness; kind of like me when I'm still getting dressed in my elevator on the way down to go to work or school. (don't worry; I only do it when I'm the only one in the elevator. Wouldn't want to cause a commotion in the building or anything......)

*this post was mostly written sometime in June, but finished in August. Hopefully that helps.

No Clue, Just Had To Write

2009-06-19T21:33:00.000-07:00

I have been thinking about these lyrics for some time. Should it really come as any real shock that Mr. Clapton shared the same emotional nature in terms of his moon sign in astrology as my departed friend did? I don't know who these lyrics are being written to in reality, but in my mind, they are being written to me, from my former love, and to him from me. Anyone else who feels a connection, please take it for what it is, with my understanding.

Layla, you've got me on my knees.
Layla, I'm begging darling please
Layla, darling won't you ease my worried mind.

Like a fool, I fell in love with you,
Turned my whole world upside down.

Let's make the best of the situation
Before I finally go insane.
Please don't say we'll never find a way
And tell me all my love's in vain.

Layla, you've got me on my knees.
Layla, I'm begging darling please
Layla, darling won't you ease my worried mind.

Granted, I left some of the lyrics out. I just remembered these the most, and the song itself is.....haunting to me in many ways. I hear my lost love in them, and I also hear myself in them. I hear the sorrow and pain that has brought me to my knees many a time, and the anguish that it will never be again. I have gone insane, and come back from it, barely, and I often wonder if all my love is in vain. I'd beg him to come back to me, but......we all know our relationship ended in a most final way that no one, not even I can reverse or change. I'm sure this is how it's supposed to be, and this is how I feel about it on this hauntingly familiar night of wind and rain; a fitting weather pattern to suit my half air, half water friend.

I' m sure I'll post something else soon on this topic, but this has been a work in progress in my mind for weeks now, so I thought I should put it on "paper" now, and let it out, and let it be what ever it needs to be. I doubt I need to mention what activity I will likely be engaged in this evening. What I have spent all day trying to hold back. What has only grown in feeling inside me, which, at some point, I am going to have to release. Why? Because under my rather cerebral self lies an intensely emotional soul. Emotions that can build inside me to proportions that scare even me sometimes, and which, regardless of how I try to control them, eventually need to be released, with all the pain and chaos that usually comes from such an occurrence.
I guess I can look on the bright side and realize that I have painkillers for the likely migraine, and cold compresses for my swollen eyes, and I don't have to be to work until later in the day, so I could sleep in if I need to.

I don't know if that's one of the saddest, or most evolved things I've ever written; preparing optimistically for a painful, frightening, soul wrenching moment in my life, which even as I type I can feel it.......the rage, and pain, and shrieking agony fighting to break out of it's human bonds, and wreak havoc on my normally pleasant, placid, seemingly always in control persona. Little do they know. Nor do I think they will ever know, and lucky for them in their ignorance.

Marching Thru My Mind

2009-06-18T21:30:00.000-07:00

I remember having what seemed to be the most dreams in one night last night. They actually lasted until I finally woke up at around noon today. I slept off, and on all last night, and into today, but every time I went to sleep, another dream would find me.

I usually dream fairly deeply and detailed the day before some big event that my mind knew was coming, so I guess last night should be no exception considering that my former lover's birthday is just about upon me. But....one or two dreams is not out of the ordinary; five or six is.......something new to me. I know I had about three over the course of the night, and maybe three more throughout the morning hours when I wasn't fully awake yet.

I don't know what this means, but the dreams were continuously marching thru my mind all night, and into the morning. It seemed like as long as I was willing to rest a little longer, the dreams were more than willing to come. Some were short, others were long, but they all were vivid and detailed, and usually the type of dreams that I have one of in an entire night.

I wrote some of them down, and others I just let drift away in my subconscious. I dreamt of my former lover, and it was awkward to say the least. He seemed to be visiting me in my home, but we didn't say much, and seemed like two people that didn't really know each other anymore, and who had changed so much that we didn't know what to say to the other person. He stayed in my home for a couple of hours, but we just followed each other around, and didn't really say more than two words together. Maybe it meant that we have moved past our relationship, and are now two very different people.

I dreamed of his mother, and she invited me over to her house, only it wasn't the same house that she lives in in real life. It was really nice looking, not that her current house isn't lovely, and spacious, but you know what I mean. I don't remember the interior except for the kitchen, which was spacious, dimly lit, and made me feel comfortable. The outside seemed to be a large private patio with those trellis things, and vines growing down them, lending the space a rather Italian, meditteranean look that I also liked. She invited me over for lunch, and we had a nice time.

I also dreamed a really unusual dream about being from the middle ages, yet living into today's time. I guess I was immortal. I think I was a sorceress, or priestess of some kind. If you're wondering why I don't use the conventional term of witch, it's because I find it highly offensive, and will endeavour to explain that tale another time. But anyway, I was living or visiting a place that was slightly below ground level, and was shaped like a circle, with the entrance around the corner of the space I was in. I was trying to heat up something to eat in a metal plate that actually looked like it was from the medieval era. The food wasn't all that appetizing, but it wasn't foremost in my mind. I think I had on a dark red velvet like cape, and I was also talking to a creature that wasn't human. He or she, looked like some kind of elfin creature, and was equally as old as me, a kind of throwback to our medieval heritage that refused to fade away.

But I was talking to him about life I think, when I heard a noise, and noticed a human man looking into the small space the elf and I were talking in. He had a flashlight, which made the elf hiss, and say something derogatory about modern human machines. It didn't seem like the man could see the elf, or was really looking at him. I was worried, but every time his light would shine to the place I was standing in, I would say "invisible," or "invisibility," and I woud become invisible to his light and eyes. I still stood still, hoping he really wouldn't see me. It was almost as if I didn't trust my own magical abilities. But I remember he noticed my plate of food sitting close to me, and reached in and took it. I wasn't all that concerned, since I didn't want to eat it myself, and he ate it slowly, still hearing me turn back to being visible, and moving around, and every time he heard me, he would shine the flashlight in my general direction, and I would make myself invisible again. This seemed to be the extent of the dream. He seemed to sense I was really there, and called out to me, but I wouldn't answer. I remember he had light brown hair, and bright green eyes, and looked big for a man. The elf seemed to think poorly of modern humans, and wondered why I bothered living in their world sometimes.

Weird, I know. But.....why so many dreams? And why all of a sudden? It's not how things have happened for all of my life as far as I can remember, so.....what was that? and more importantly, what does it all mean? My dreams usually answer a question that I asked some time ago, but I can't remember the question so I'm at a loss for now. Let's just hope I keep it together when his birthday does come around very very soon. I'm sure the fur ball will do something to distract me, she's good at that. And another thing; why do I seem to attract men with biblical names and black cats to me as friends? Someone answer me that.

Yay! It's Officially Over!

2009-06-17T09:37:00.000-07:00

Grades have been posted, and I managed to pass everything nicely. Even better than nicely in one class. So.... my hard earned summer vacation has officially begun. Let's just hope I don't get into too much trouble......

Hang Tradition! (the other twin's turn)

2009-06-16T18:58:00.000-07:00

Oops! Did I just write that out loud? On my blog? Should I remove it? Or should I let the darker half of my twin persona come out and play for once? Ohhh, the temptation to be bad....and as one of my favorite writers once said, "I can resist everything except temptation." I can agree with him there, it just takes something out of the ordinary, and rare to tempt me to irresistible levels. Do I dare let my slightly pointed little ears go back, and expose my rather sharp, slightly long canines to my audience? Do I let you see that I am not always nice, and have my own opinions on things that differ greatly from those around me? Sounds like fun, and probably therapeutic. If I write something really naughty, I can always erase it later.

Now, where was I going with the tradition thing. Oh yesss.......weddings. I might never have a wedding, and as of now I have never been to an actual ceremony, but I still have ears that hear about them. (friends are probably worried I'll infect the place with either a black magic curse, or fall asleep and snore or something) Perhaps......but I would do it with the best of intentions......

I know, I know, it's June so maybe I should be more inclined to go with the flow, but.....c'mon really. If you have been reading my blogs so far, I think it's safe to say the flow is not where I go. I make my own path, and could care less who doesn't like it. You know, I tick a lot of people off with just that one sentence. But June is here, and with it the sounds of high pitched female squeals delighting in all things matrimonial. All of a sudden they become religious, and proper, and value tradition. (a cautionary note: even if you are a friend of mine, continue reading at your own peril. I think I deserve to get this out of my system, and somewhere else)

I have no religion, and have no interest in aligning myself with one again. I had one, and it made most branches of Christianity look like flaming liberalism in action. I was a part of a religious tradition, and one day I realized that I didn't fit the mold of one that truly believed and had faith. So I left it, and decided to look inwardly for guidance, rather than outwardly in things that I felt no trust or connection to, and which always smacked of hypocrisy. Soo, now I do what I feel is best for me, without hurting myself, or anyone else, and work at being honest with myself and my needs. I also answer to no one for my mistakes but myself, and only have myself to blame if something goes wrong. Sometime I'll go into more detail about my own spirituality, for now, I think weddings, and tradition will be on the receiving end of my sharp little tongue.

In saying that, I do have leanings towards many eastern spiritual traditions, and find comfort in their sayings and beliefs. But, you can probably see where the concept of a (shudder) traditional wedding is lost on me. I understand why others do it, but I wouldn't. They're slightly afraid that something could go wrong, and they want whatever insurance they can get that says it will last for all time.

To hear women, sorry, girls rather, coo over a diamond engagement ring, and practically applaud one of their sisters for "catching one," practically makes me nauseous. The single minded, consumer driven search for "the perfect dress" probably makes my face take on a horrified expression that I try to mask. And please don't get me started on the white dress theory, that could be discussed and analyzed for days. I'm sure you get my general drift on the subject though, don't you?

I commented not too long ago to someone on how many third world starving towns could probably be fed for a year on the cost of a wedding dress alone. You should have seen the death glare I got for a reply. Good thing I'm fireproof. But the whole, princess for a day, it's all about me wedding that apparently most little girls are spoon fed from the cradle on is lost to me. I must have been out climbing trees, catching lizards, and making sand castle's when the wedding class was in session, huh...how dare me!

Moving on. Where was I going next? Aha! (growl) Wedding rings. Need I say more? Probably not, but I'm going to give it my best effort, wanna watch? hee hee. The wedding ring. A symbol of everlasting and eternal bondage in holy matrimony. The stone; usually a diamond. Why? heck if I know. I was off climbing tree's. I think it has something to do with diamonds lasting forever or something. Did you know that there are a lot of people out there that believe wedding bands should either have diamonds, or be a plain gold band? and that anything else just doesn't mean commitment in their minds? Amazing really. Anytime I run into another subject that many people staunchly believe can only be a certain way, I instinctively feel the need to take it apart, and find out where their thinking is coming from.

Where there is closed mindedness, and stoicism, I will strive to interject a little idealism, and openess. It's in my job description. But! I have heard people say that anything else, any other stone, or type of ring just doesn't symbolize the commitment and longevity of martyrdom, excuse me, a marriage to them. I have heard people patronizingly comment that while they have seen women with unusual wedding rings, they themselves just don't see it as a real marriage, and feel that non-traditional methods show an underlying fear of commitment. Excuse me, I'm going to go kick a pillow or something equally non-destructive. (I've got lot's of pillows)

So then, a ceremony that is non-Christian in origin or tradition would then be......invalid in a traditionalists mind. I'm wondering now what the divorce rates in say, any eastern nation compare to our own high rates of long lasting marriages in the states. And people still stick to this stuff like Velcro on Velcro. What is the divorce rate in America now? 50, 60%? And what's the average length of a marriage? 8 years? Are people lying, or just delusional?

I know it's about the money too, on some levels. Marriage is a highly profitable area within our culture, so this could explain why the more expensive aspects of tradition are highlighted. But...I still don't buy it. What right does anyone have to judge someone they obviously don't understand, in an area of life that is probably one of the most private of our lives, if we even make it that far? how is it that someone that has been married and divorced several times seems to have the right to tell someone like me, who has never seen marriage as more than a formality in the grand scheme of my life with my partner, that I'm not doing it right?

I consider the life together more important than the ceremony, and being trussed up in one of those high maintenance looking wedding dresses, and having every person imaginable staring at me, and fawning over how good I look. So what? the rest of my life I've looked like crap? Someone find my new husband and ask him what he thinks of that. Eh, he's probably busy fending off stupid questions too, poor man. You would probably find us outside the building a few hours later, muttering about what a waste of time this all was, and seriously considering taking up chain smoking. If it weren't for that ridiculous dress someone stuffed me into, we probably wouldn't be disinguishable as the bride and groom. hee hee, I can only hope......

Mawwage, and twue wuv....sorry, I had to do it.
But, I always remember at the back of my mind when someone starts going off on a traditionalist tangent that this country was settled by people so uptight the British kicked them out. Tolerance was not in the rule book. Well, in actuality, it probably was, but who read that part? I also remember that marriage, like prisons, and hospitals, is an institution, and at that point I probably look like I'm about to cry or like my friend died, and I try and extracate myself from the situation posthaste. And we all know what happens when you, or a loved one commits themselves to an institution.......you never see them again because, they went insane and you only talk about them in whispers filled with sympathy and sorrow.

But, yeah. The cultural norms for marriages in this nation of mine are lost to me. The white dress, which is a waste of money, and a slap in the face of its original symbolism. The diamond ring, which while it can create every color of the spectrum, has no color to itself, and costs another ridiculous amount of money. And then there's the church to rent, and the food, and cake. (I am all for the cake, don't get me wrong. Only problem is with my allergies, I wouldn't be able to eat it, and I wouldn't want to subject guests to a vegan cake that they might not like.) And....whatever other frippery and finery I am forgetting all for just one.....single.....day. Seriously, someone find me those divorce rates.

I have to say that twue wuv, and two people's honest commitement to walking their paths side by side, supporting one another thru feast or famine sounds like a bigger deal than all the above mentioned material objects which cannot be taken with us to the afterlife. And what would that cost me? I don't know, but it could be free with just a witness. Oh, and the marriage license. That can't be too expensive. I do have some traditional beliefs in me, they're just not the same one's many other people have. I would only marry for love, and I would convey to my partner that he was the one I loved most, and who would always come first before anyone else, and who I would even put the needs of before my own if needed. And I would want the same in return.

As for a ring. Well, it might be nice to have one so I wouldn't have to deal with as many stupid, hormone challenged males coming on to me. Although.....I suppose my husband would also work as a deterent in those situations. Why do I get the feeling he would love being a deterrent? Great, another crazy. But, I like colored stones, regardless of what anyone else thinks. They look good on my light gold skin. I wouldn't ask him to wear a ring unless he wanted to, and wouldn't worry about it either way. We would be, after all, two independent beings that decided to share our lives with the other. The dress? Well, I do like dresses. But, maybe something soft and flowy, made from natural cotton or a linen silk blend. That shade of light beige would also look good on my skin, and I could probably move a lot easier in it.

Am I against marriage? Of-course not! I'd love to be some man's wife someday.(honestly, just hearing the man I loved calling me his wife would probably be enough for me, and I'd love to call him my husband.) But would I do it the way that is considered traditional and the norm? No. I would do it how I do everything else in my life; the way that suits me. Only, in this case, I would be consulting with him on what he wants as well because, it's not just about me, it's his wedding too right?

Now you see why I don't let the darker half of my dual nature come out to play very often in public. But, I think I feel a lot better now, and have cooled down, and feel like it's been dealt with, and I can move on to taking apart something else for a while. Thanks to who ever read this far, you must be either very patient, or understanding, or both. I'll see what comes into my mind for another post soon. It might be along the lines that my former love's birthday is coming up, and......I don't know how I'll handle that day.

Goddess in the Rain

2009-06-07T21:52:00.000-07:00

(sad sigh)
I'd think that by now, I didn't have any tears left, much less still feel like someone is stabbing me in the heart when I remember my friend. Yesterday, I decided to accomplish one more thing in relation to trying to overcome much of the sadness and pain at my loss, and I watched V for Vendetta. Perhaps this doesn't seem like much, but to me it has been a conscious avoidance of mine since he left this earth.

I bought the movie after returning from a rare vacation away from home, to go back and visit friends a state away. I had a good time but......(wince) the night I flew back into town, I called my friends whom I had just left, and asked them what I should do regarding the man that I was honest enough to admit I wanted, and who I needed to be honest with about my feelings. They said that I should call him, and that guys were not immune to the compliment of being the first person girls talked to when they returned to town. I had my skeptical doubts, but since one of the people I was talking to was a guy, I decided it couldn't hurt to try.

I called him the moment I was back in my apartment, and it took......a lot of effort just to dial his number. I knew what I wanted to do, and I was going to do it, if only to tell him the truth. You see, I had not been very, well, pleasant to him after having turned him down stupidly a few months prior. I wasn't overtly rude, but I was cold, and we hadn't spoken as much the last few months of school. I had been fighting with my ego, my newly awakened hormones, and against him. I realized that it wasn't worth it, and that I wanted him, and that he made me happy, and that when I was myself I seemed to also make him happy, so.....I took a chance. I called him to talk to him about it, and see if he had some free time that weekend. He did, and I told him everything in about three hours, sitting under a canopy of trees in a park. I apologized profusely, and took the blame for my dishonest and reclusive behavior. I explained what my life had been like growing up, and said that I had never stopped wanting him, I had just been lying to myself to keep my ego happy. I said that I learned that it wasn't worth it, and that I was miserable.

I told him that I had been happy with him, and that I just wanted more happy memories. I did all this, and told him some of my most intimate secrets, not so that he would be with me, but merely because I realized that there is nothing more important than truth, and that even if he had another girlfriend, or several which I wouldn't have been surprised by; that I would tell him the truth, and hopefully also remove any pain he might be in, or any feelings of rejection he had felt. I told him that I had always wanted him, and that I loved watching him move about the room. That I felt he deserved to know all this, and that I hoped he accepted my sorrowful, humble apology.

He was noble in that he shook his head, looking anything but surprised, and said he didn't understand what I was apologizing about. I looked at him from behind my sunglasses like he was mad, and said that it was for lying to him and to myself, and for any pain I might have caused him. I said that I didn't expect him to still want me, but that I needed to say this. The next thing I knew he was standing over me, with that small tender smile, and he said the words that filled me with so much light I must have been glowing to the angels in space; "So, what do you want to do?"
I know I smiled like nothing before or since. Now I know what people mean by a blinding smile, or lighting up from the inside because, I did. In that moment I felt like I was made of pure joy, and had evolved in that moment into something wonderful.

Hmm, maybe I should reverse a little. He said roughly the same six words to me when he had asked me to be with him, about three months earlier. So, on hearing them again, I felt like my heart would explode into a million pieces of light and lay at his feet, and I didn't care who saw. I think I took off my sunglasses, something I only do when I truly trust someone, to let him see my light sensitive eyes, and see what I was really feeling. I know I looked dumbfounded after that spurt of joy, and said dazedly, "You still want me?" I was very confused. I had intended to tell him the truth, and while I shyly, and I now realize lovingly hoped his offer still stood, I pinned no expectations to this thought.

I thought he was so beautiful physically, and had such a good heart that he probably had two or three girlfriends by that time. Women that knew how to make him happy, and who had experience, and weren't afraid of love. Apparently, I was wrong. I remember being so confused by this unexpected turn in events that I just stared up at him for a few moments before finding my voice, and saying tentatively, "So, what do normal people do in situations like this?"
His reply brought me back down to earth, and made me realize that we were still two imperfect beings on this spinning ball, and not without a sense of humor. He said with what I later learned was false seriousness, "Well, most people go out to a bar, get drunk, and then wake up the next morning together realizing they made a big mistake."

I gasped, looking horrified, and said something along the lines of, "No! I don't like that idea!"
He grinned down at me reassuringly and said, "I'm just trying to humor you, there is no normal. You just do what feels good." I think I looked a little more worried at that because, what instantly came to mind (no pun intended) were thoughts that were probably not appropriate for the kids playing basketball near us, but not likely to get me arrested. I never told him those thoughts. One more regret to add to the pile.

But, he walked me home, pushing his bike along between us, and walked on the outside of the sidewalk like my mom always did when we were kids, and also like any good gentleman does with his lady. (something I learned later) It was a warm Saturday night, and as we walked thru downtown, people were coming out of nightclubs and bars. A few times men stumbled out of them close to me, which made me involuntarily gasp in worry. I didn't realize it until a little later, but my now boyfriend ( I also didn't realize this either) was glaring at any man that seemed to be making me uncomfortable. I just remember men looking past me towards him, and nearly disappearing into thin air when they caught what I saw if I turned quickly enough, was a dangerous glare from his dark blue eyes. (chuckle) Sorry. That memory still makes me laugh sometimes. That man. And I loved him for his protectiveness. If I found another like him, I hope I'd be honest enough to accept the gift before me with an open heart, and spirit, but.......who knows?

I also remember while I was watching him unchain his bike from where it was, before we started walking, I got up the nerve to ask him why he had waited for me to figure all this out, even when he knew it himself already. I still remember his face. He was standing under a streetlamp, and when he turned to look at me his eyes glinted and flashed with some strong emotion that at the time I was too much of a chicken to accept. I stammered and said never mind, and we left it at that. Stupid me.

We sat outside my building on the stoop, and talked some more. When I think about it, we must have spent most of the afternoon, and part of the evening together. I was so tense that when he tried to massage the tension out of my ever tight shoulders I squeaked, and looked at him accusingly like it was his fault. He just nodded, and continued to run his big hands over my highly sensitive self. Before he rode off to go home, he kissed me on the top of my head, and said goodnight, and as far as I can remember; I literally floated upstairs to my apartment, not even noticing the ground. It really is amazing how happy one can be when one disconnects from expectation, and only hopes, and holds truth to be the highest and most important thing. And when one actually gets what one was lovingly hoping for? Well.......I don't know if even I can explain it. It's.....well......just right. And in that moment, I felt........like I was fully connected to every living thing on this earth, including the Earth itself, and I could feel it's energy pulsing thru me, and making me feel--alive, possibly for the first time.

And that, my friends, is how I began my intimate bond with......him. If I ever met another man like him, and he loved me, as I hope I would have to nerve to love him; wow. I would feel, like I had reached some ecstatic plane of spiritual enlightenment, and had received such a precious gift that I would live each day with no regrets, and I would face my fears in the moment, rather than waiting as though my life and his had guarantees for longevity on them. If I found someone like him again; I would love him each day I had with him, and hope we would have another tomorrow.

But, even in my present, and long standing suffering, do I expect to find another man like that? No. Even with the wrenching sobs that wrack my frame from time to time, would I expect that happiness is my due in life? No. Happiness is a gift, and I have learned that I am here to enjoy each precious moment of happiness I receive because, there are no guarantees, only truth.

I cried yesterday watching V for Vendetta because I had been avoiding it since he left. He said "it's a damn fine movie," and I saw similarities in it in my life with him I wasn't ready to face until yesterday. I was fine until that scene when she comes out of the cell and realized it was him. I felt that scene with a jolt I couldn't ignore. When she went to the roof, and walked out into the rain, and started crying, I cried myself, moaning in both pain and freedom, realizing that I now knew what that scene meant to me. I was free in a way. I had been forced to face my worst fears, and had had everything taken away from me, and had survived the experience. I finally understood it, having not expected to ever.

I realized that in losing everything I remained without fear because, I had, in my way faced my fear, and had lived to tell the tale. I am not afraid anymore of what I feared, and very little makes me afraid now, not after what I have been thru. And for it; I seem to have become a stronger person, much stronger than I would have ever thought possible. And others seem to sense the change in me, and sometimes shyly compliment me on being so strong. I always smile, and shake my head. "Me? Strong? I make mistakes like everyone else. I just try and live that's all."

My state of heart the last few days

2009-06-06T20:29:00.000-07:00

I was listening to a song recently, and it suits my mood. I doubt I need to elaborate on who these words are about, or the still heart wrenching pain that comes with my thoughts.

“You are still a whisper on my lips”
“A feeling at my fingertips”
“That’s pulling at my skin.”

“You leave me when I’m at my worst”
“Feeling as if I’ve been cursed”
“From the bitter cold within.”

“Days go by and still I think of you”
“Days when I couldn’t live my life without you”
“Without you.”

I'll come back and add to this later.
And the song is "days go by," by Dirty Vegas. (The techno one is my favorite)

What Was That?

2009-06-03T21:10:00.000-07:00

I had a rather unusual thing happen to me today. I know I say that a lot, and my life generally has unusual written all over it, but this was odd enough that I needed to write it down to see it in print. I was working on a project for school, and was minding my own business when I felt, well.....the simplest way I can describe what I felt is to say that it felt like an earthquake happened in my soul, and it shook a few things up, and rearranged some things.

Out of seemingly nothing and nowhere I felt shaky, and my hands shook so hard I put down the scissors that I was holding, astonished to watch them tremble uncontrollably. I felt chills shoot down my spine, then come back up and tighten the back of my scalp perceptibly. I felt cold all of a sudden, and honestly felt like my very old soul had just experienced a spiritual earthquake. I thought I would faint, but didn't, and just waited for the tremors to pass.

It....was....weird. And I should know when something's weird, I don't know if I wrote the book on weird, but there are at-least a few chapters with my name written all over them. I felt like things had changed inside me, and yet I didn't know what had changed; I just felt the effects in a tangible physical reaction. I'm a little surprised I didn't breath out steam at some point.

But my big question now is: what was that? what happened to me? and why? and what will be the ramifications, and effects later on? What did my body do, and what will it mean for later? I know I was thinking of something when it happened, but I can't remember what. I just know it was a thought about someone close to me. This doesn't worry me too much, I'm almost always thinking about something.Why re-arrange my spirit anyway? I thought it was fine the way it was. Granted, it had some serious damage recently, and probably looks like blackened Swiss cheese some days but.....I liked it.

I KNOW something happened. (sigh) Hopefully it wasn't anything bad, and won't freak me out when I realize what it was, and what it meant. I have had panic attacks, nervous breakdowns, I've fainted for various reasons, and hit the very fragile edge that divides sanity from insanity, but this......this was something new, something different, and something that really seemed to want to get my attention. What ever it was, I hope I get a clue from the universe soon so I can better understand it.

Lilies, Danger, Passion, and Pain

2009-05-27T19:07:00.000-07:00

(another intriguing title, I know)
Well, I survived my recent birthday, and am now another year older, and wondering what this new age will bring me, and what I will learn. So far, I have learned that I really don't like the taste of alcohol, and have decided after consuming only two cocktails in my lifetime that I've had enough, and will leave the drinking to those that truly enjoy it. It's probably good that I figured this out before doing something..er....impolite in public, how unladylike that would be.

What had me excited to write today? I know there was a spark of creative inspiration that triggered this post, as always, but what was it? Sorry. My mind works a little too fast most of the time, and since I am constantly learning new things, and telling people what I have learned my brain probably resembles the L.A. freeway during rush hour rather than a quiet country road. (snort) It probably resembles a quiet country road when I'm deep asleep....maybe. I can't help it; I like thinking, it's fun. Especially when there are so many lovely things to learn and ponder around me.

Aha! Some information I found by accident. I was, and still am trying to decide what kind(s) of tattoo(s) to get for myself as my personal graduation gifts. A wise friend once said, "don't get anything that won't mean something to you when you're older, and remember that your body will age, and consider how it will look then." But.....I have been thinking of flowers, and have been researching their symbolism as much as I can, and this is what I have found that I like.

Two lilies are what I am thinking of so far: one tiger lily, the other a tuberose, which I didn't realize until today is a member of the lily family. Regarding the tiger lily, this is what I have found so far:
"The symbolism of the tiger lily is like other lilies in that they symbolize the feminine principle reflecting the qualities of mercy, compassion, kindness and unconditional love. Lilies are associated with the planet Venus, the water element and the goddesses Venus, Juno, Mpethys and Kwan Y'in. However the Tiger Lily represents the more powerful aspects of femininity."

Another more simplified meaning I keep running into is "I dare you to love me." While this resonates with me, I like the other meaning as well, and also think of the name itself as symbolic to me. A flower with a fierce name, and a bright orange color. With my skin tone, I think the color would look beautiful, and set off my light golden skin well. But I like the duality of the words. I am Gemini, what can I say? The two words themselves seem so opposite, yet they suit each other. A feline flower that originated in Asia I believe.

The other flower I have found some personal meaning in is the tuberose, after realizing that one: most of the perfumes I wear have traces of the scent in them, or are related to it like jasmine, and two: the milky white color would also probably look really good against my skin tones. This is what I have found out about the symbolism of the flower that makes me want to get one tattooed on me somewhere:

"Nothing captures better the essence of tuberose than its meaning in the language flowers used in Victorian England. Tuberose signified both dangerous pleasure, and voluptuousness. The scent of the flower is a fusion of white petals and warm skin, and arresting sensual and heady fragrance. Like most night blooming flowers, it is pollinated by nocturnal moths.

In India tuberose is renowned for its strong aphrodisiac powers, and also is said to possess powerful healing properties used in anti-spasmodic and anti-inflammatory purposes.
In Ayurvedic tradition tuberose is known to stimulate serenity, creativity, and psychic powers."

In terms of the flowers scent, this is what has been said:
"It never remains at rest, and while the absolute remains on the skin, the radiant floral sweetness paired with the profound sensuality of the dark carnal base never ceases to mystify. A creamy honeyed sweetness and warm skin."

I think these might be what I decide to have placed on my body in ink. I like the meanings, and I like flowers, and I wear scents with the tuberose fragrance in them frequentely. I don't think I would ever get tired of having them on my body/temple, and they can always just mean something to me in my own personal way throughout my life. The next big question will be; where, and how big? And what do I want them to look like specifically? I'll sort thru this later.

Hmm, what else have I been contemplating in my inner world? I haven't given a lot of thought to finding a mate lately, probably because of all the homework that has piled up for the end of the term.

I have been thinking that I will live with the guilt from my relationship with my former and first love for the rest of my days. I will live with a feeling of regret, and guilt that I didn't do enough, that I wasn't strong enough to confront him, and that I can never go back and change the past. I realized that no matter how many people I help, or how many years I spend trying to atone for what I believe I did and didn't do, it will never be able to change the past that I carry inside me, and for that......I am very sad, and feeling tired in my very old soul.

I also realized that I haven't considered letting any man, even one that could be a partner and boyfriend fully into my heart like I did with my former friend. I can't imagine it. I can imagine letting him into a part of my heart, but not like before. Would the kind of man that I need be satisfied with a piece of my heart, and not the rest? Would it be enough, or fair? Would I have to give to get? And if I want him to love me fully, would I have to be able to love him fully as well? Probably, a most frightening prospect universe, but one which I will remember when the time comes. (and what happens if I attract a man very much like my former lover? will I love him as he is? or will I turn away and wish for someone else? would I be so cruel? or would I be the one to be the word that I decided means my wish in human male form: compassion? would I be able to give compassion, and live my wish myself first before ever having realized if I have found it in another?)

Ah The Homework That Comes from A University Education....

2009-05-18T18:57:00.000-07:00

I am pretty much distracted by more homework than I'd like to have to do. I think I have enough to keep two students occupied, and it's also draining all of my creative energies for use as analytical tools to figure out my assignments. I'll try and post something soon.

When does this term end again? And what's that part about a college degree paying off over time?.....
I also found a quote that I would like to add to when I find the brain cells to spare. It went something like this: "The moon in Scorpio is not made of green cheese, but rather....." It didn't have an ending, and I would like to try and write one for it at some point. Something to think about that doesn't require my bookish-looking glasses, and a semi-dark space in a library.

All Right Universe, What's Going On?

2009-05-12T18:24:00.000-07:00

This is probably going to be one of those short random posts of mine that might not make much sense to readers that aren't highly perceptive at reading between the lines. Or something like that.

I keep seeing the recurring number 911, and it seems to be getting more frequent as the days go on. I don't know when I started noticing it, but it wasn't more than a week ago I think. I keep seeing these numbers. I see them on the clock I happen to glance at at am and pm times. I got them as answers to a few math problems today, which really made me wonder. And now that I have started doing a little research into numerology, a science I haven't delved into yet, I discovered that it can be interpreted as a symbol of twins, or Gemini, and also a humanitarian that seeks to take care of the whole world rather than just themselves. The conflict or opposition comes from 9 being the number of the humanitarian looking out for the greater good of all humanity, and 1's symbolizing the individual and even selfishness. The number 11, however, is a master number and can mean--

Number Eleven possesses the qualities of intuition, patience, honesty, sensitivity, and spirituality, and is idealistic.

In systems such as Astrology and basic Numerology, eleven is considered to be a Master Number. Eleven can also represent sin; transgression and peril. Ten being the perfect number, eleven represents the exceeding of both. It is interesting to note that eleven when broken down ( 1+1=2) comprises the Two of duality. Number eleven is a master vibration and as such should not be reduced to a single number.People with this number could be both idealistic and visionary, and they are attracted to the unknown.They can be both unusual, interesting and magnetic personalities.

Eleven bring the gift of spiritual inheritance, is gifted as the "Light-Bearer". It is the number of the Light within all. Strengthened by the love of Peace, gentleness, sensitivity and insight. Greatest facility is the awareness of Universal relationship. Is related to the energy of Oppositions and the Balancing needed in order to achieve synthesis. Eleven is The Peace Maker.

This is still a huge spiritual, symbolic, and abstract reason project, so this brain child might seem scattered in its infantile stages, but it should mature rather quickly once I focus on it, and do what I do best: dig deep, and not stop until I have unearthed an answer that suits me, and makes me stop and feel satisfied with my efforts. I'm not afraid of getting a little dirty, so long as the treasure I seek is worth the effort and time.

The Feng Shui of Mina Pt. 2

2009-05-11T18:24:00.000-07:00

And why do I do all this? Well, I try and meditate because I know I have a highly nervous, quick mind and nervous system, and know that keeping it as calm and even as possible is healthier for me, and better to focus on people that come into my life. I eat more healthily because, it not only feels better inside me to consume foods that do not harm me, but it also effects how I feel about myself in general. Eating healthy foods helps me feel healthier, which helps me feel more confident about my body.

Yoga. Hmm, there are a few reasons for the Yoga. One is that it is a sport I can excel at, and enjoy without causing an asthma attack. Ah running induced asthma, it's the best. If you haven't tried it you really shouldn't unless you want your mother to be able to outrun you. But then, I can out swim her, so I guess we're even. I also like yoga because it helps calm and even shut off my mind, which is where my ego lives, and tries to rule over the rest of me. I need to get in the habit of not thinking, and just letting my body flow naturally.

Yoga also seems to compliment my natural figure nicely, and removes any traces of excess fat, tones my long lean muscles, gets my heart rate pumping which gives me that adrenaline high after a few weeks, and just...feels good. I also do it because....(fidget) well, I see the world of physical pleasure thru a spiritual lens, and feel most comfortable in that world when my body is capable of doing anything my mind can think up with minimal effort or strain. Lets just say: I do it because I need my endurance levels to equal my strong drives in that area of life, and that takes constant exercise in more ways than just physically. I also know that I need a partner that is highly spiritual in nature, and I need to be able to meet him on equal ground rather than not being able to keep up. I think there is also a link between eastern spirituality and sexuality and yoga, and this concept makes sense to me. I also know that when my body is in shape I am more confident in letting him see it. I think that's how it went....

Leaving all those spaces around my apartment free help me remember what it is I seek, and that I don't have to worry about if, but just remember the "when" of it. Reading about other types of spiritual relationships only gives me knowledge to support my actions, and helps me along in my journey. Keeping my space cleaner than usual also seems to make me feel better. Probably because having a clean space makes me feel ready to invite someone into it.

I think that covers most of it. It's a process for me, but one which I enjoy once I get into the habit of it. You know, as I recall, I did have quite the...stamina, hmm, now if that isn't motivating to remember....

Oh! the crazy Scorp's of the world didn't take my comment about my cat sleeping on my head the wrong way did you guys? Eh, I obviously thought of it too, so I guess I'm a lot like you. I still love my cat though. Even if sometimes I think she's from another planet where people don't have ears, or are deaf to her loud meows for attention in the middle of the night.

The Feng Shui of Mina

2009-05-11T17:11:00.001-07:00

Some days I'm really not sure it's worth it to get up in the morning. This one started out well, and has slightly dipped in my estimation of a good day. Besides that, I have a rather large announcement to make; I moved my TV back to its normal home in the corner of the living room after reading another enlightening chapter of a book on spiritual partnerships and intimacy.

I wondered why I had not found anyone, and realized with a thump and a groan that I hadn't even begun the work needed to find someone to share my life, and secrets, and body with. I remembered in a rush how much work I put in before finding my former love. I took yoga classes studiously, ate even healthier than usual, meditated more often, and made my living space reflect my goal by making space for my partner. What do you want to bet my love came crashing into my life in more ways than one almost right after my body was physically in excellent shape, my mind was clear and focused, and my apartment reflected my intentions clearly.

Moving the TV back to its true home where it sat before my former love left actually made me remember how large my apartment is, and that it is large enough for another.
The reflection of openess seemed to be almost instantly reflected in me, and I smiled to myself, feeling a sense of accomplishment in moving on, and not feeling bad about the move, but good and optimistic. My cat took it her own way and ran around the living room, then did that fall down lay down thing that cats do sometimes. She seemed to really enjoy the space where the TV had been on the carpet, and rolled around happily in kitty bliss for a few minutes. I guess that's a good sign, and encouraging. After moving it back in place I felt--open. Like I had in effect opened myself to another by opening up the space in my home.

This might sound like a lot, but for me it's what I need, and what seems to make sense for me. My list probably went a little something like this last time, and this time it's probably going to be similar with a little more work in places. No particular order, just however feels right. I'll modify it in places for the changes I think should be made.

* Start a home yoga routine that is at-least three days a week, with five days being ideal, and at-least forty-five minutes a day until I sweat and feel it in me. I registered for a Power Yoga class in the Fall, so I want to be ready for the advanced class when I get there.
Goal: tighten and tone core back up. Regain flexibility and strength all over body. Regain breathing exercises to allow strenuous physical activity with little pain, or change in breathing. Also to gain better mental focus, concentration, and release stress easily.
* eat healthier, especially during the summer months. Mainly fish, and nuts for protein. Salads for lunch, and fruit and my own baking for sugar content. Also drink more lemon juice to keep internal system as clean as possible, and functioning well.
* try and remember to meditate a few times a week to clear mind, and keep energy levels more flowing rather than erratic.
*continue researching spiritual traditions and their views on intimacy and dating. Read anything that seems interesting, and enjoy the learning process rather than fear the unknown or socially taboo.
*keep bedclothes clean and soft.
*keep carpets vacuumed, shelves organized and not cluttered, and kitchen and bathrooms clean constantly. Also keep extra space in cupboards and refrigerator for his stuff if needed.
*remember what I want and focus on that, not on what other people think I should want.
*buy incense and candles in scents that I enjoy that aren't too girly for day and night.
*keep two extra towels in bathroom always.
*keep less girly hand soap in kitchen for other.
*keep the fur ball brushed so her hair doesn't annoy me, the furniture, or him.

I think that about covers it. I'll try and explain it all in another post. I'm sure this one is long enough.

Just in Case....

2009-05-08T21:35:00.000-07:00

I recently realized that without internet at home due to it crashing, I have not been posting as often. Just in case anyone was wondering if I was still doing this; I am, but a little slower until I get some internet back in my home. There's much to discuss, but at the moment I am suffering from what might be a head cold, or just severe allergies, or a reaction to too much diary. (it was so good going down, and now....)

Anyway, hopefully I'll remember to type in a few days when the fog that has become my normally genius mind has cleared, and I can think without either sneezing, or staring off into space wondering what I was supposed to be doing. (groan) My muscles ache, my eyelids feel like they're weighted down with those old coins they used to use on dead people, and I want to just go grocery shopping for the bare essentials; kleenex (the lotion kind of-course), herbal cough drops, and juice. I'll probably buy other things, but I don't think I can think so far as to come up with a complete grocery list off the top of my head. Ha! what head? It's about to float to the ceiling I think. And after this quick, hazy trip to the store I intend to pass the ---- out, and try and re-coop for another long day at work. (hopefully with the cat sleeping on my head for added warmth, and that amazing vibration thing she does when she purrs really loud. I love that fur ball) I'll be back later, and hopefully no one else has what ever this is, and has pleasant dreams on this full moon in Scorpio night.

A Final Resting Place, Brave Words, and A Chipmunk

2009-04-26T21:31:00.000-07:00

Well, I went to pay my respects to my love at his final resting place today. I felt a strong urge that compelled me to go, and I did. I didn't think I would ever be strong enough to return to the place I stood as I watched them lower his coffin into the ground, but today I went.

I felt it was necessary mainly because, I wanted to tell him about my recent wish, and what I wanted and admitted I needed. I know it was only his body that was there, but it felt like he was nearby somehow, listening attentively to me, trying to cheer me up as always. I tentatively introduced myself to his father as well, who rests next to him in his own grave. I looked at the two headstones, and shook my head in quiet sadness for the fact that both men died prematurely, and due to thinking they knew better than everyone around them, and their advice. Rather ironic in a way.

But.....it took me a while to find his grave. I thought I remembered correctly, and ended up checking under every tree in the large park like cemetery, swearing profusely, and feeling lost and out of my element. I squared my shoulders, and said to myself that I would find his grave, and wouldn't give up and go home until I had. I found it after about fifteen minutes of walking up and down the steep hill most of the graves laid on.

I didn't think I would cry, but I did. Once I laid eyes on the polished marble headstone that bore his name I burst into painful tears, again cursing the fate that we shared, and the loss of his innocent life. I waited until the tears had subsided, and sat down on my coat in the grass next to his grave. I have only been to a cemetery twice before this, and so didn't know just what the protocol was for this sort of thing. I sat for a few minutes, gathering my thoughts, trying to find the right words to say, and how to tell my love what I was going thru.

I told him about my wish, and apologized several times for being selfish, and feeling like I was leaving him behind cruelly. I apologized for being human, and wanting to feel human again. I said that I was alive, and wanted to feel alive, and feel how good it can be to be have a big, warm, hard man close to me. I said that I was surprised I had survived so far, and since I had, I figured I might try to enjoy it. I said that I missed having a man that I trusted near me, and had wished for another to continue my lessons in intimacy, which I felt I was ready to continue now.

I cried more for my own pain than for his, I think, and for wanting to be loved again. At one particularly poignant moment, I heard the most unusual sound, however. I looked up into the large tree I was sitting under to see a small chipmunk, looking right at me, making the most unusual sound. I couldn't stop the laughter that came bursting from my throat in rich, bell-like tones. I covered my mouth, trying to stifle the sounds, but the chipmunk kept squeaking at me. I didn't know that chipmunks could make a sound, much less something that sounded like a squeaky toy that had just been stepped on. It sounded like a high pitched, wee-er, if that makes sense, and it kept making it at me every time I reached a highly dramatic point in my monologue. What do you want to bet the chipmunk either was sent by my former love, or was my former love teasing me, and insisting I find something to laugh about.

I even swore at the chipmunk telling it not to crap on me, or drop one of it's pine-cones on my head. It did neither, but kept squeaking at me every so often. I get the feeling I was invading it's space, and it wanted me to go away so it could climb down to the ground and collect the pine-cones that littered the earth. The comic relief of an irritated chipmunk; I doubt I'm ever going to forget that.

But....I got it all said, and found I was reluctant to leave when the time came to catch a bus back into town. It was harder than I expected, to walk away. I almost had to pull myself away, not wanting to finally leave him, and walk on to continue my path literally and figuratively without him. I said that I loved him, and had always loved him, and hadn't told him because, I thought it would scare him off. I said that he would always have a place in my heart, and that I would see him again after this life ended. I said that I would love him until my bones turned to dust, and that I would always have my happy memories inside me.

I said that the memories weren't enough anymore, and said I was sorry for saying it. I said that memories, while beautiful, can't keep me warm at night, or talk to me, or kiss me, or make me laugh. I told him that I needed to be touched, and feel that again, and that I knew I was going to have to try to let another man in to do this. I said that I already knew he was beautiful, and a good man, and I promised my love that I would try to let him in. I said that I would rather progress in my journey, even if it meant pain, rather than stagnate and stay in one unchanging place. I was willing to accept that risk, and to wait for whatever, or whoever the universe is bringing to me, before passing any judgments, or trying to define or categorize anything.

But......leaving was really, really, really hard. I don't think it's that I wanted to continue to sit there in the cold wind, I think it was more the raw symbolism behind the physical act of walking away. None of it was lost on my highly perceptive self, and I felt it keenly. I had to stand up, putting distance between myself and his grave, standing over it, looking down at it from my above ground vantage point. I had to brush the leaves that littered his grave from my coat, and leave them there. I had to put my coat on, indicating that I was really going somewhere. I had to force my legs to walk away from his grave.

It took me about four tries to finally walk away from his grave, and it really hurt. I realized on some level of my being that it meant a lot to walk away, and move on to the rest of my journey without him. I had a life, and a cat to get back to, and had bills to pay, and classes to go back to the next day. I had a life that I needed to live that needed my attention, and I had to realize that he would never be in it again. But it was really hard. I had to do the thing that I hadn't done yet, in all my grieving: let go. I know there is probably some karmic issues tied up in that statement alone, and because of it's difficulty for me to accomplish, it was probably some big issue from a past life or something.

It still hurts to think about it. To walk back down the hill, onward to a new life that I know nothing about, or what will happen, or how much pain or pleasure awaits me on my path, but walking it anyway. I am alive, and since I have survived this so far, I figure I might as well try living, at-least partially again. I don't exactly remember how to do it, but hopefully it'll come back to me in pieces.

I also felt the urge to go to his grave because of the wish. I felt like my soul needed me to make this trip before the universe would bring this new man to me. I felt like there was a clock ticking away somewhere, and it was waiting for me to accomplish this task before striking midnight or zero or something. I don't know if that makes sense, or how else to explain it, but that's what I felt when I went there. But, I did it, and now I am still processing it, and reeling from what I did. I miss my friend, but he is no longer my man, or my lover, and for those things I will have to try and let another man into my life, and I am ready to at-least try......minus the chipmunk, of-course.

A Difficult Choice

2009-04-24T05:01:00.000-07:00

(heavy sigh) Well, I'm still here, and still thinking. I didn't sleep well this last night, which is still going on as I type, so I decided to try and work on something to take my mind off of all my worries.

I made a wish to the universe last weekend, I think it was, and the intention behind it only intensified after this past Monday. I had one of those aha light bulb moments of inspiration, and realized, to my sadness, and worry that I missed physical intimacy most of all in my life; even more than I missed my love. I am still berating myself quite strongly for this thought, and am still trying to not despise myself for thinking it. Not all aha moments are bright rays of light in my world.

I felt like I was betraying my dead love, and that I was being selfish, and acting rashly. I still have these feelings to a smaller degree. I felt like I was asking for someone to use, and to take my mind off of the intense pain that has set up a base camp inside me. Then I started to think further and deeper, and thought about things I would have rather avoided, in the hope of making sense of this crazy wish I made. The wish was to find someone to continue my lessons in physical intimacy with within the next two weeks, roughly. (to paraphrase it)

I thought about how my love would have been the first person to tell me to accept my feelings and needs as a female human being and animal on this planet, and not to hold onto some ridiculous concept of suffering because, it wasn't making him or me happy. I remember when my friend used to come see me in his spirit form, he almost always stressed the point that I find a man that can make me happy, and not live in the past.

I vaguely thought how good it felt to be loved simply for being me, and being alive, and female and on this planet. I remembered my own responsive nature, which I seem to have buried since my love died, and how I had started associating it with negativity, and problems. I remembered the.....simplicity of just being loved for who I was, and loving my partner in return.

I remembered, somewhat sadly, how I seem to respond like a big cat in moments of pleasure. I immediately reacted to these memories with anger at myself, and wanted to bury them where they couldn't come out and harm anyone ever again. I suppose I associate harm with my sensuality because of the loss of my friend, and how close I came to letting go with him, among other deeper issues.

My mind shouted at me "how dare you! you selfish creature. you only want to make yourself happy, and your partner is dead. you're so quick to turn into a little hedonist aren't you? you would use another human being for your own personal gains." I know this is partly my ego talking, and I know that it doesn't fully make sense, but it's what comes to mind when I think about letting another man in. I feel guilt, and sadness, and pain. I feel guilt at wanting to feel a man's large hands running over my sensitive skin, and intense gaze watching me with warmth. I feel sadness that it can't be my love that will be the one that my hands are running over. It can't be him that my large brown eyes gaze at in wonder and pleasure, and ignite with a dark intensity that only this man will see. I feel pain that it will have to be another man, and one that I haven't even met yet.

But....the almost forgotten memories creep into my psyche silently, and remind me of my own mortality and humanity. I remember how simple it was to love someone physically, and yet how great the rewards were for my hesitant forays into a world I had never encountered before. I remember how much like a cat I am in those moments. I remembered what I used to feel from a particularly hard kiss to that spot where my neck meets my shoulder. I used to feel my eyes turn black, and my lips pull back from my teeth, exposing slightly long canines which I had to stop myself from sinking into my partner. I didn't want to repay pleasure with pain, it just didn't seem nice. I remembered how I used to hiss, and growl, and dig my "claws" into him, and even purr when I was in that floating content moment. I remembered how none of these traits were taught to me, or learned thru studying at school, or were things I had to spend money on to acquire, they just came naturally--I think.

It's funny in a way how all of these memories seem to have been cut off from my consciousness almost since my friend died, and now they're back for some reason. But,when I thought about all this, and made my wish, I felt....hmm, how to describe it? It felt like something deep inside me lit up, and brightened to a near blinding light, then subsided in me to leave behind a calm, and warmth, and peace that I had just done something that might have made my soul happy. It felt like one of the best decisions I have made in....I can't remember how long, so I am not going to take back my wish.

But, it was a very difficult choice to make; to choose between remaining with the memory of my love, or moving on to try and find happiness with another. I still feel selfish, but I'm not changing my mind until at-least after I've met the man himself. He might not be that bad, right? I know he's beautiful. Or rather, will be beautiful to me. (shy whisper) And he'll think I'm beautiful too, universe. I know that we'll be happy together, and that this will be good for me. I also know that I have enough baggage and hang-ups to fill a walk-in, but I'm not going to let those things bother my conscious self until the moment when they need to be discussed.

Most of my friends seemed absurdly happy for me when I told them about my wish. I still think I'm crazy, and possibly so are they, but I guess that's where I am right now, and it's really no surprise. My friends got that eager, excited look on their faces, and I just watched them like they had sprouted horns or something. They said that my admitting to needing physical intimacy is good step in getting over or thru the grieving process. It means I will have to let go that last piece of my friend that I was holding on to, doesn't it, universe? That last piece that I was clutching like a piece from a pilow I lost most of in a horrific accident.

If I am going to be present in the moments I have with this new phase in intimacy, I will probably need to concentrate on the here and now, and the live, breathing, warm man standing in front of me, won't I ? That's going to be......rough. But it helps to feel instinctively that he has a good soul, and is beautiful in more ways that his body, and that he will be good to me, and good for me. He's patient, and has an unusual sense of humor, and he's perceptive I'm guessing. And I'm going to be able to make him happy with just myself, nothing more.
Huh.....what a thought. Well, this is my next step, and I am going to try and keep the fears, and worry, and second guessing at bay until at-least my first meeting of this, goddess it's hard to even write; this new man.

(Yawn) It's dawn now. I think I'm feeling tired enough to try and get some sleep. Hope who ever stumbles across my blog slept well last night, or when ever night is, and has a day that makes them happy to simply: be. I'll work on this myself, after I've gotten some rest, though.

Pain

2009-04-18T22:06:00.000-07:00

Oh goddess. (hiss) I am in so....very...much...pain. I shiver, and moan, and cry out, and ache, and none of those things will bring my love/friend back to me. My body is wracked with sobs and keening cries to the ancestors and spirits that listen. My throat closes up and still I cry in such pain for my loss. My throat tries to close up fully against the tears and rage, and anguish, yet I don't allow it, and fight my cries thru the tight muscles. It feels like my throat is torn and bleeding when I cry that hard, and I expect to not have a voice the next morning.

I claw my bed covers and pillows, trying tear them, hurt them even, and make them realize how much pain I am in. I cry on my cat's soft black fur until she has had enough of me soaking her thru to her skin. I clench my fists so tightly that my knuckles turn white, and the next morning my hands are sore. My teeth are clenched tight against more cries escaping from my trembling lips, yet they still force their way out against me. My jaw is also usually sore the next morning.

My whole body shudders and draws so tight I am surprised the muscles don't break, or snap. I get so tight that I think my muscles must be as tight as the long thin bones of my body. I cry so hard my eyes start to hurt and ache, and sting. I cry until my eyes swell shut, and then I can't cry anymore. I cry until my throat is too raw and sore to allow any more cries to emerge from my numb lips. I unclench my fingers from the fist they have formed, wincing in pain as they crack and snap back into normal positions. The muscles over my ribs, and along my back are usually tight, and shake with uncontrolled pain at trying to either let the cries out or keep them in, I don't know which.

When I am too exhausted and broken to continue my cries I just sit there, exhausted, but still in so much pain I am amazed my body hasn't been ripped to shreds by the sheer force of my emotions and pain. I sit and wish I could continue crying. I want to continue until I can't feel it anymore, until my body passes out from sheer exhaustion, but this never happens, so I sit.

I wish he would come back to me, and offer anything to be able to see him again, even for a moment. I wish I could have a second chance with him, to tell him all those things that I was too afraid to say before. I realize I can never have him back, and I wish him well and happiness wherever he is, even if that means I will never see him again. I still put his happiness before my own, and consider his happiness to be mine as well. I feel anger at all the weak men, or incompatible men that have come into my life since he left me, and wish they would find someone more suited to themselves, rather than bother me with meaningless questions.

I feel a sense of hatred for all men, and for their stupidity and the pain they inadvertently seem to be able to cause. I wonder if it is really worth it to risk my soft heart on such creatures, or if I should just throw in the towel now, and say it's been fun, but now it's over. I wonder what a life without a man to love and have as a confidant and best friend would be like, and if I could handle such a life. I growl in disgust at the attempts of my somewhat clueless friends to try and find me someone.

After all this, I usually stop thinking suddenly, and realize that I am slowly moving from side to side in barely conscious exhaustion, and realize I need to go to sleep before my body takes the conscious decision from me, and passes out rather suddenly. I then blow my nose, and wipe my eyes, getting a cold, wet washcloth to try and repair my swollen eyes for tomorrow. I usually have a raging migraine by this time, and grunt in irritation, getting up to find some Advil to get rid of it so I can at-least try to sleep. After taking the pills, and some cool water for my pained throat, I lay down, and usually fall into a fitful restless coma-like sleep. And that, my friends, is what my pain feels like to me in this "process" I find myself in almost constantly. I'd ask you to join me, but I wouldn't wish this on my worst enemy, much less average mortal human creatures....

Pillows and Crab Quiche

2009-04-17T23:55:00.000-07:00

Goddess, my mind, body, and maybe even soul feel like they are about to rip at the seams. I have gone back to taking short naps in the late afternoon because, I can't sleep much at night. The nausea starts almost immediately after I get comfortable and relaxed in bed, and the nightmares are just plain weird. I have also recently started a new habit of piling my extra pillows on one side of the bed so that when I lay down, it feels like there is someone sleeping next to me, at my back if you will. I didn't intend to start doing this, it just kind of happened. It comforts me to feel like there is someone sleeping close in behind me, even though I logically know there's no one there, I still imagine. I guess it's comforting to at-least imagine that someone "has my back," even in sleep.

I eat almost nothing during the day, and this habit seems to be getting more a part of my daily routine that I thought. I have started eating dinner at around midnight, and while I know this isn't good for me, it seems to be the only time of day I actually get hungry. I drink water and liquids all day, but don't crave food. I want to spend less and less time with people, and more time to myself.

My body is also acting......rather odd lately. I have had the occasional sore muscles, and shoulders, but lately things have gotten sorer in more places, and not from the stretching I recently started to try and get ready to go back into yoga. The muscles that I am stretching and working are not bothering me, it's others. The muscles in my neck and shoulders are almost always tight, and I try and move them regularly to pull some of the stiffness out. My legs are also cramping for some reason. Most of these muscles are just used for the usual exercise and walking, so I am confused by them all of a sudden protesting my normal routine. Nothing is causing me to not be able to move like I need to, but I find myself kneading muscles and trying to stretch them out more frequentely than usual, since they seem to seize up in pain more frequentely.

Besides all that not so great news. I made my first quiche today. I made the crust by hand, and was very surprised that it worked using rice flour rather than wheat. The crust seemed to take the longest to figure out. Then I added whatever vegetable I always wanted in a quiche from a restaurant, or one's I had had before. I also added real crab, and it came out an almost masterpiece of culinary art. I say almost because, I am still human, and I hope humble, and I'm still waiting for it to disappear before I can give it to my closest friends and family to try so I can find out what they think. But, I'm proud of this one accomplishment today, and now have one more thing I can add to my list of things I can cook or bake on my own. I figured a cold slice of crab and vegetable quiche would be a good idea for the upcoming warm weekend.

I also cleaned my apartment some more, and this also brought me a sense of accomplishment. Cleaning and cooking seem to take my mind off of things that I can't control for a little while at-least. Really universe, how much more Cancer-like do I need to be? I used to hate cleaning, and now I find a sense of pride in making something look new again. And cooking? Huh, I wouldn't set foot in a kitchen unless someone else was cooking, and then just to try and steal a piece of it while they weren't looking. Things change I guess.

I also am going thru an experimental phase with my eyes. I had an eye-exam last week, and now am trying out various contact lenses to decide which one's I prefer. Sound familiar? And what does it all mean? No clue. But I do know I like the first pair so far. They are thinner than my old one's, and while more slippery and hard to handle, they feel much lighter on my eyes.
I guess we'll see what my final choice will be, and just what my big dark eyes can see with the right lenses over them. Who knows what I might notice with my new sense of.....clarity of sight........(low laugh)

The Wave is About to Crash

2009-04-17T13:43:00.000-07:00

I wish I could say I slept well last night, and that the nausea seems to have ended; but it hasn't. I didn't really sleep at all last night. I was awake off and on, and my mind kept me thinking all night. I couldn't find a comfortable position in my big queen size bed, and tossed and turned frequently. My normally incredibly soft cotton pajama's bothered my skin at around 2 am, and I removed most everything in an irritated huff. I assumed that my high thread count pima cotton sheets would feel better against my unusually sensitive skin, but they didn't help much either.

I think I woke up almost every hour to my mind thinking insanely quickly about something that could definitely wait until morning. Each time I woke up it was like waking up to a room of people talking in my apartment, and I just wanted them to shut up and leave me alone. It was exhausting trying to shut my own mind off, and considering that I didn't get to sleep until around dawn, I don't think I was very successful.

I also had to deal with another night of nausea, and really weird, slightly frightening dreams. Don't ask what came first; the mind racing, skin sensitivity, nightmares, nausea, or all of the above, I have no idea. I just know I am not....."getting better" as well as I thought I was. I don't have many dark thoughts, but I still am manifesting these other symptoms. I almost wonder if my mind eventually wore out my body at sometime around dawn. The cat even abandoned me at some point; probably from having been kicked and shifted one too many times during the night from her spot at the foot of my bed. She can only take so much sometimes.

But.....what is all this? I can feel that wave about to hit, and the sensation is only getting stronger by the day. I think my mind might have been going into overdrive trying to process my sixth sense thru it's highly rational lens. An impossibility, but I guess my mind thought it could handle it.

Eventually, I think I need to pay my love a visit at his final resting place. I haven't been there since the funeral, and that was my first trip. I don't quite know what's driving me to go, but I feel a pressing need to. Some one my friends have suggested closure might come, but I just sadly laugh at this comment, and reply that I don't think I will ever gain closure to something like this. But...I need to go there, on my own, and talk to him for some reason. I know he isn't really there, but I still feel like it is a good idea.

From the Universe With Love (maybe)

2009-04-15T18:05:00.000-07:00

I imagine that sounds a little theatrical, but I couldn't think of another way to put it, and that's about how I feel. I have so many unfinished things floating around in my life right now, and I think most of them started about a month ago, and are just about to either reveal themselves for what they are, or alter into something else in my sphere of existence.

It's an odd feeling to feel things having built up over the last month, and knowing that they are about to reveal their true nature, and also possibly alter both themselves, and me in the process. I don't feel that something bad is coming, but massive change is definitely almost upon me. At this point, it feels like.......like I can practically see what's coming, but I can't because it's not close enough to my sight to see it clearly for whatever it is.

It's slightly nerve wracking in a way, but then patience seems to be something I need to learn to cultivate better in this life; along with faith in the universe and myself. But....it's really an odd feeling. It's like.......that feeling you get when you're standing waist deep in what seems like a calm ocean, and turning to look behind you to see a huge wave about to crash over you, and feeling the hairs on the back of your neck stand up, and your pupils dilate, and your breath leave you in a ragged gasp. Just imagine pushing pause on that image right before the wave crashes down on you, and that's about what I feel like right now.

It's coming, and it will strip away so many masks it might leave me reeling and confused. Actually.....I'm almost sure some parts of this will leave me confused and questioning what just happened. My destiny always seems to be two steps ahead of my intuition, and five steps ahead of my mind. This thought gives me a wry grin at the universe in general, and it's way of communicating with me.

I can admit, somewhat humbly, that I almost....well really, never see what the cosmos are about to drop in my lap beforehand, and it always surprises me, and makes me shake my head and wonder how I didn't see that coming. I never do, and this might just be what I need, since I usually don't shock or am outmaneuvered easily by most people I meet. The universe definitely 'has my number' so to speak, and knows just how to surprise me and make me reel for a few moments when whatever I have been feeling on the ethereal level comes onto the physical plane, and into my life.

I honestly also have to admit that I like being surprised and outmaneuvered by the universe. If I wasn't outwitted once in a while, things would probably be pretty dull indeed. And the surprises, while sometimes nearly fatal in their messages (as with my love), always get my warm blood pumping, and my brain igniting with the challenge, or gauntlet that has just been presented to me with the force of a hurricane from the universe.

It almost feels like for the last month I have been on stage in a play where all the actors, including me possibly, have been wearing masks as we move thru scenes. I get the feeling all the masks are about to come off, and some of the players true identities might shock me greatly. Perhaps even revealing my own true face in this 'drama' will be necessary and shocking.
Who knows.....

Whatever is coming soon feels like it is packing quite a spiritual wallop. I theorize that whatever it is, will be one of those things that will almost instantly transform me into someone that can handle the change that is being offered. I doubt I will be the same person after this, and just wonder what "it" is. (hopefully it's something pretty...... : ) j/k)

A Unexpected Friend

2009-04-10T23:03:00.000-07:00

I thought this should be added to the blog--in honor of someone that made me spontaneously laugh out loud. I started my public day rather late today. I had classes and quizzes all week, and felt I deserved to sleep in, and just get things done around the apartment. But by around rush hour, I decided it was time to go outside, and do some shopping, since I desperately needed clothes. I know...you probably think I'm a typical girl, with a walk-in full of clothes. By now, I would imagine, it's pretty safe to say I rarely do things with the trends or fads.

I don't have a lot of clothes that fit me. This is partially due to the fact that I can't tolerate anything other than almost 100% cotton on my sensitive, warm skin. And partially due to the fact that I am not built like a stick figure. Neither one of these facts bother me, but they seem to bother most clothing manufacturers since they so rarely make reasonably prices clothes for girls like me. I did manage, after three stores, and as many hours, however, to come home with four soft cotton shirts that I already look forward to slipping into.

I think I have digressed. Hmm.....must still be that joyous rare feeling of getting to be a girly girl and come home triumphant after spending hours in the grueling harsh climate of a metropolitan city, hunting for pretty, comfortable clothes.

What was I going to write about? Oh. Before all this feminine frivolity began, I was waiting patiently for the bus to take me to my first stop on my list of shops. I thought it was a nice day, and was listening to my iPod, which I am still trying to get used to. (I think it hates me, really) But as I waited, I scanned the cars driving past me, checking out their exteriors, and interiors for anything interesting. I think I can say with some confidence that I was recently a dog in one of my lives because, sometimes I think if I had four legs and a tail, I'd consider it the highlight of my day to break out of my house at rush hour, and chase cars until I got caught.

Moving on. So, as I waited a watched, and listened to a particularly pounding techno song, my sunglassed gaze caught sight of a guy on a bike, gesturing to me in time with the beat of my song, wearing a grin. I laughed happily, covering my mouth briefly, and waved automatically to him. I realized who he was first by his gesture, then by his appearance on the other side of the street. After he rode away, I looked around me, realizing that there were about five other people waiting at the bus stop, who were watching me in a slightly covert way, trying not to openly stare. I think I might have blushed briefly in consternation, then shook my head and thought whatever, it's a good day. Why? Because someone that I don't quite think of as a friend, but that I know, and who knows me made me laugh out loud while calmly waiting for my bus.

I don't know if he realized how uplifting his comical greeting was, but I thought I should at-least honor it with a mention in my blog. The simplest, most unexpected things can make me happy. And it seems like when I'm about to reach rock bottom again, someone comes into my life for a brief moment, and does something that makes me happy to be here. Today, it was.......a friend on a bike, who's day was probably ending as he headed home, while mine was just beginning. Odd how things play out sometimes. Had I not left my apartment when I did, and been going to that specific shop, which required I wait at that particular bus stop, I probably would have missed having that experience. And all I can say for tonight is: I wouldn't have missed it for anything.
(and I'm still grinning, and softly laughing about it to myself every time I think of it.)

So;what more could a girl ask for? A friend to cheer her up with his infectious eccentric humor, and soft, inexpensive clothes to fit her curvy beautiful body? This mood could wear off, so I am going to simply try and enjoy it now for what it is, not what it should be. The cat's already passed out, so I think I'll try and join her in sleep. Yawn, I think that's all for today. Pleasant dreams everyone, and every-thing.

Soul Disconnect

2009-04-05T23:28:00.000-07:00

I have noticed something that kind of frightens me: I cannot talk to my own soul. Usually, I can feel it, and hear brief pieces of information that help me along in my path. But roughly since my friend died, I haven't heard a single word from it, nor have I even felt connected to it. It's odd. It's like it isn't with me, and isn't connected to me and my life anymore. That can't be right because, our spirits are part of what keeps us alive in our bodies, so what does that make me?

Where has my old soul gone to? and why? and how? and when is it coming back? I wonder if it was so shocked and stunned at losing it's other half that it retreated somewhere so deep and far that even I can't find it in all the hidden realms I see without my eyes. Or perhaps it is in so much pain, that it is staying away from my weakened body for fear it would shatter me instantly with it's agony. It feels really......weird. I feel like a part of my personality has disappeared, or like I lost some really old, valuable object that was passed down thru the generations, and was given to me for safekeeping. I feel like I lost it, and don't know how to explain it to my family. I can't find it because, I didn't see where it went.

But.....it doesn't guide me, or give me hints about life. And the only times I think I might be hearing it giving me advice, I write it off as not being real, or truly my spirit trying to advise me. Maybe it's just that I don't trust my own soul, so it doesn't talk to me as much. I don't feel it inside me anymore, and feel lost without that piece of myself. It's like I moved into a new apartment, and forgot to bring something important, and now it's stuck in my old apartment with the new tenants, who think it's pretty, and won't give it back. That probably makes no sense, but it sound about right to me.

I'm going to attempt to get some deep, quiet sleep, even if I can' t remember the last time I got some. Maybe I should just hope that I get some soon, and not worry about tomorrow tonight. The cat's already snoring contentedly, maybe I should take a page from her book and try it. (without the snoring of-course. I'm too ladylike to snore....)

The Darkness

2009-04-05T22:58:00.000-07:00

I am still in roughly the same mood as I was in the last post, and I don't have much care to change it. I titled this post "the darkness" because, that's where I feel like I am in my life right now. I am not shining outwardly, but rather, barely flickering inwardly, trying to find my way amid a cold blizzard that almost blinds me in my search for......whatever it is my soul is searching for.

I feel like I am in a dark part of my life, and like I am watching the sun set, and I don't know if it will rise again. Of-course the sun will rise in terms of the laws of physics and nature; I just mean it more personally. I wonder if the sun will ever shine on me again, and if I will feel it's rays warm my cold, half-dead insides. I have more doubts than hope, and at this point don't care enough to try and balance those two scales. Whatever comes will come, and that's all that will be.

"I love thee, I love but thee
With a love that shall not die
Till the sun grows cold,
And the stars grow old..."

A rather charming poem is it not? It's by Bayard Taylor, and I think it suits the moment nicely. Sometimes when I see my own writing I almost smile when I realize my "age" comes thru in it. Maybe that's something that cannot be hidden from view; one's unique writing style. I still write like it's the middle ages, and I don't see much of a reason to change, even in the 21st century. I was probably some sort of writer or poet back then, and still find comfort in doing something that I love.

This will likely make no sense but......I found someone who shares my rather rare birthday, and it shocked me to my back teeth; the Buddha. Theoretically, of-course, but it's an interesting thought. I rarely have met someone with my birthday, but supposedly Buddha was born on the same day as me. Huh......fascinating piece of information.

But......I am the darkness, and the night, and the cold, and feel so very world weary and old. I feel like living one more life will exhaust me, and like maybe I should have opted for another break or vacation or used some sick days this time. I get the feeling there was a particularly persuasive soul that managed to convince me to come back to Earth for him. (sigh) Maddening creature. Well, you got your wish; now what I am supposed to do with the rest of it? You know what I'd like to do with it, but won't. So I sit here, almost uncaring for my own life, and wondering what I will do to occupy myself for the rest of it before I can leave this one behind for something more.....spiritual. A penny says I don't return to an earthly existence for another couple hundred years after this one finishes.

“Light thinks it travels faster than anything but it is wrong. No matter how fast light travels, it finds the darkness has always got there first, and is waiting for it.”
-Terry Pratchett
“The depth of darkness to which you can descend and still live is an exact measure of the height to which you can aspire to reach.”
-Anon
“Most gods throw dice, but Fate plays chess, and you don't find out til too late that he's been playing with two queens all along.”
-Terry Pratchett

Fear

2009-04-01T21:37:00.000-07:00

I almost hate to write someting like this but; I am afraid. Over the last week I become increasingly afraid of myself, and my thoughts. I burned myself last week, did I mention that before? I was baking muffins, which were a sucess, and I burned the inside of my wrist pretty badly. I didn't seem concerned with the pain I was in at first, and just kept holding the edge of the muffin pan.

I ended up burning my skin so badly that I somehow managed to burn thru the first layer, and at that point I stopped, and more fully realized what I was doing, and what I had let happen. It felt worse after I removed my wrist from the hot pan and let the air hit it. It felt like my skin was burning still, and the feeling lasted for the rest of the day. I didn't do much to cool it except apply a cold compress to it briefly, then forgot about it, and just let it burn.

To try and give this snapshot of my day a little more background meaning, I have always been afraid of getting too close to an open flame and burning myself. My skin is already highly sensitive naturally, and is also usually quite warm. Yet.....I have burned myself twice this week, without really seeming to care or be concerned, and that is something I have almost never done. I don't fully know what this means, but I get the feeling it's not something good. I was lighting my candles tonight, and burned the inside of one of my hands lightly, and also didn't seem too concerned about it. I just felt the heat of the flame, then a slight burn for a few moments before pulling my hand away, looking at it almost without emotion, and like it was someone else's hand.

I can think of so many metaphors for a situation like this. "Being burned." "Playing with fire." "Like a moth to a flame." They add up, and hold a frightening meaning all their own to me. Did I intend to burn myself either of these times? No. But neither did I remove my sensitive self from the flame or heat in time to prevent injury to myself. I didn't care enough to stop my skin from being burned, and marked in a way. Do I know why I have been acting like this lately? No, but it worries me greatly when I think rationally about my own lack of caution.

He told me he loved me when he started to get sick, and yet, I never got up the nerve to say it back to him. I cried pretty hard last night. I cried more for his loss of life, than for his loss in relation to me. I cried for the fate I find myself in, and for the pain it causes me almost constantly. I probably sounded like a small wounded animal, or like a puppy crying to itself, curled up into a ball on my bed. In a way, I guess I am. I am without my companion, and partner, and so I cry for his loss, and for not being able to be with him, and for not being a vigilant protector and watcher. I cried hard for the thought that this could either be my lot in life, or that I could end up dying an old woman, with no man to love and adore, who loves and adores me. I don't want to outlive all of my friends and family, and die alone; I really don't. But......could there actually be another man out there that could find a home in my heart, or what's left of it? I have more doubts than hopes.

I can still feel something changing soon. It feels like a huge change in my life, and while I think it might just be that I am on the edge of being well and truly alone. I also think it might be something more, or something related to that that I'm not thinking of right now. I just hope whatever changes are coming to me are good one's, and don't cause me pain or sadness. I can't quite imagine what good changes would be, but I know something(s) is/are about to change very soon, or at-least this month.

Loss Pt. 2

2009-03-29T20:51:00.000-07:00

Recently, I learned or realized that I am truly alone, or soon about to be. If we're going to use exact dates here, I can say I will be fully alone after April 20th, 2009. Why do I choose that date? Because after that date my friend that defies categorization will no longer be in my life, and we will have moved apart.

To try and explain this train of thought; I realized that I have no one in my life that "gets" me on many levels or even just one. Apparently, the way that I communicate, and live my life is so alien to pretty much everyone I know that none of them really understand me, or can speak to my mind as it were. Talking to anyone in my circle of friends has become a chore I don't relish, yet I feel the need to find someone that I can talk to growing by the day.

One friend explained it interestingly. She said that my communication style is so unique, and my goals and pursuits in life are so herculean in size that she finds talking to me exhausting, and almost feels like warming up before talking to me. In hearing this, and thinking about it on my own, I came to the surprising conclusion that I truly have no one left. Of-course, I still have my close circle of friends that I love, and who love me, and no one has died. But.....I am alone.

I crave conversation with someone that could understand my unusual, eccentric, fast paced mind, yet I have no one that can fit that need in me. I can't even talk to my love's spirit anymore, he left about a month ago for whatever is next in his journey. I don't blame anyone in my life for this outcome, not even myself, but the outcome is still the same regardless of how I paint it.

With regards to my un-categorized friend; I will miss him, and I hate myself in a way for this for many reasons. I dislike the fact that I only met him as a consequence of the death of my love. Without that horrific event I probably would have never crossed this persons path. He is reticent in revealing anything about himself for reasons I understand yet am irritated with. He knows most of my secrets, and I know none of his, nor will I. I found out I would be losing him much sooner than I had planned, which was roughly the same time I would have had to part from my love ironically. He was the last person that I talked openly to, and I can do nothing about it. That helpless feeling of being out of control was also what I felt right before my lover left me, another sad similarity. Probably the most painful part of this relationship is that I will have to walk away from this person on my own, rather than have them forcibly taken away from me. I don't expect that difference to make it any less painful, and I am already feeling it in advance.

Another reason that I despise the fact that I will miss him is that he is virtually a mystery to me, and I feel like I have merely come in contact with one more male person that I cannot get inside of. It makes me feel like I never will. This time I can feel something being kept from me, much like I did with my love, and have that almost pacing sense of wondering and being out of control of the outcome.......wow, it's really adding up fast when I write it out like this; but why? I don't get it. Why do this again? and right on the heels, literally of doing almost the same thing with my love? There must be a reason this happened again, and right under my nose. I'll have to think about this more, and try and come up with an answer before I pace myself into exhaustion.

But I can feel that my friend is keeping something from me, and I am just twitching to know what it is. It could just be that he truly doesn't understand me, and thinks I'm a pain in his side or crazy; that wouldn't worry me too much in the long run, that's not surprising. But.......the "scent" of whatever it is isn't like that. It's something deeper, more profound, and more surprising. I have my doubts that anything could shock me right now. Technically, it would have to shock me out of the shock I'm still in since my friend died, and then shock the part of me that was jolted from it's cold freeze. (snort) Now that is doubtful. I don't sense it to be anything bad, or negative, or painful just......something I can't put my finger on, yet.

I feel like someone gave me the scent of something to follow, but I can't find the trail to follow it yet. I used to be an unassuming little kitten, now I seem to have turned into either a bloodhound, or a big cat after it's next meal. I hope whatever this new ability leads me to either doesn't object to having me sink my rather sharp teeth into it, or taste's good. (in the cerebral, spiritual senses, of-course. I can't eat red meat, it makes me sick) I think I'm going to need a really big ESP toothpick after figuring this latest mystery out.

To try and answer my own initial question of why this loss is turning out to be so monumental. I remember about a month before all this started that I said that I could lose everyone close to me, and I would still have myself. Well......after April 20th, I will have proven that thought in my own physical reality. I know it will hurt quite a lot, but I can't do anything about it.

New Information

2009-03-27T22:01:00.001-07:00

I found out some more new information regarding my love/friend. I discovered that he had his laptop, camera, and cell phone stolen around the time of his death. At first, I thought; that's really sad, and I wished it hadn't happened, then I thought deeper.

I realized that the only pictures of me that he had taken when I glowed brighter than ever before or since were on that camera, and the love filled letters I had sent him were in his computer, along with any private thoughts he had about us. And all of our calls were in his phone. Now they are all gone. All the forms of communication we used were stolen from us. Why does life work like this?

"Who you're with, is where you're at."

Not Surprised....

2009-03-27T21:34:00.000-07:00

"While shy in youth, as you mature you tend to find ways of handling and masking your sensitivity. Your intuition is strong, and you naturally understand that there are hidden forces in life that influence the daily goings-on. You tend to always be seeking something higher--such as a greater meaning or understanding of life and your place or purpose in it. There is something mysterious and private to your aura. At times, you may feel a lot of anxiety. Although you are capable of being alone, sometimes loneliness consumes you and vague doubts and fears haunt you. You are a perceptive person, and managing your deep sensitivity is something that can be a lifelong task."

Yeah......this would be me in the form of a quote I unintentionally found online. I think this sums things up accurately. Masking; is that what they're calling it these days? Huh.

Something Odd and Brief

2009-03-25T22:23:00.000-07:00

I realized today that the most unexpected things bring my heart a sense of pain and sadness. I bought a new cell phone today, and was happy to figure out my new toy. Later on, as I realized that all of the calling history was not on this new phone, and that I would have to send my pictures to the phone rather than get them transfered made me feel horrible.

It feels like I lost another piece of my past life with my love/friend. I cannot go back, and that hurts deeply. I guess letting go is not something I do very well in my intimate relationships. Considering the manner of loss, I guess I deserve to feel what I feel. It hurt me to not be able to scroll back thru my phone calls and find a call that he sent to me, or one that I sent to him. This is ridiculous, universe.

Is every little minute detail going to rend my already broken heart open again and again? Is this what grief looks like for me? The more I think about it like this, the more I think it will not end. That I will not make it thru this, and on to another life, or partner. The very thought of another man right now makes my stomach turn, and my temper rise. I know my friend was not perfect for me, no one really is, but I still miss his love and presence in my life.

I miss my friend more than I miss my love, if that adds up. I feel stronger and more saddened when I think about how I also lost my closest and best friend last fall. It hurts more because, I think that as a friend I should have been there for him more than as a girlfriend. I put friendship at a more valued place than boyfriend or girlfriend. And I feel more pain and loss and failure in realizing that I lost my closest friend last year as well, and I will never be able to whisper my secrets to him again.

His spirit is gone too. He left me soon after telling me he was going to move on. I cannot call to him anymore, no matter how low I sink. He probably stays on with his immediate family, and I can't blame him for that. The loss is probably more keenly felt with them than it is with me. I imagine this might all be a symptom of my hormones being out of balance but.....I wish I could see him alive again, and smiling happily in the sunlight. It will never be, will it?

I will have to find other areas of my life to find happiness in. The one area where I put most of my thoughts and energy is seemingly closed off from the world. I wonder sometimes why I am still alive. Why my body keeps functioning, and getting things done.

I spoke to a friend recently who said that I am probably the most knowledgeable person they know in regards to pain. Yes....I am. I am probably a high priestess when it comes to my knowledge and background in physical pain, and I can add this one to the rest. I have to say though, with all I have felt before this; the grief I feel now is more painful than everything that came before it combined. It is deeper than tissue and muscle and nerves; it's soul deep, and it doesn't go away with painkillers or sleep or meditation.

I try and calm my mind long enough to accomplish small tasks, but beyond that....I'm pretty much a walking shell over an almost destroyed soul. This is my path, and I walk it because I can do nothing less. Happiness has become something distrustful to me, pleasure is a great consuming fear, and pain has become my constant companion. At-least I have the memories of what it was like to be loved so thoroughly like I was last year. They are still in my mind, and briefly make me smile in remembered joy. If only I could simply live in my head and my dreams, and not have to come back to the earthly realm as often........

So Sorry...

2009-03-23T22:33:00.000-07:00

I just looked over the automatic settings for this blog, and noticed that only people with google accounts were allowed to post comments, which excluded all those anonymous one's that I'm sure more private people like me might like to use. I have reset the comment section, and hope this helps anyone who might have wanted to respond to my writing.
Or I might just be talking to myself; that wouldn't surprise me really.

The Koi Fish and The Cherry Blossom

2009-03-23T21:28:00.000-07:00

I was just researching tattoo's online. I have been thinking about getting one for a few years now, and am still considering it seriously. I had intended to get one when I graduated college, and with that date approaching, I am thinking more about it. I am not sure I will ever get one, but I wonder about it sometimes.

My love had a beautiful Japanese style koi fish tattoo. I remember when he told me he was getting it done I nearly fell over in my seat when I heard the time and price for such a large work of art. In the end, it was probably the most beautiful tattoo I had ever seen. I know, you probably think I'm saying that because I thought everything about my friend was beautiful, even his tattoo. Well, you would be right in that thought.

The tattoo covered most of his upper left arm, and was a dazzling array of bright colors and shapes. The koi always looked like it was moving to me, like it had barely been caught, suspended in motion for the tattoo artist, and afterwards twisted its sinuous body and swam away. It had shades of orange, blue, and red in it. I used to watch my friend's arm move when he would wear a t-shirt, just to try and catch a glimpse of the bright red tail of the creature drawn on his muscled bi-cep.

I looked up the symbolism of the koi fish, and why it is such a popular tattoo. I think when I asked my love why he was getting it, he shrugged his shoulders, and said he just liked it. I think I figured there was more to it than that, but I thought I'd have time to ask him later; I never got that chance, so I did some sniffing around for myself, and this is what I found.

"Koi fish, or Carp, are a fixture of Japanese tattooing and play important roles in both Chinese and Japanese myths, legends, fables and stories. In many of those stories, Koi are transformed through their efforts and perseverance, able to climb waterfalls or become dragons. The Koi as a symbol represents perseverance in the face of adversity and strength of character or purpose. The Carp can also represent wisdom, knowledge, longevity, and loyalty. In tattoo imagery, especially in combination with flowing water, the koi symbolizes courage, achievement, and overcoming life’s obstacles."

My love's tattoo had water around his koi that looked a little choppy and turbulent. I remember the light blue glittery shade of the water as I think back on it. This symbolism makes sense to me, yet also had it's bittersweet notes to add.

My friend had the planet Saturn, which rules karma in Pisces, the fish. His father, who passed away in an accident when my friend was young, was also a Pisces. The symbolism is not lost on me, but just makes my heart ache more for the man that I lost last year. I remember when he started the tattoo, I had a flash of intuition that told me that if he finished the tattoo that he would be done, and would have fulfilled his karma on this planet.

At the time, I did not realize that in placing a very obvious symbol of his own karma (more than I realized it to be, and something I don't think anyone else recognized), he was sealing his fate in a way. I tried to believe that when he finished the tattoo, that he would simply be able to live the rest of his life without having to work or struggle anymore to achieve spiritual balance. I tried to ignore the voice that told me that something would happen after the artwork was completed. I also ignored the voice that told me to tell him of my fears, and try and convince him not to finish it.

I did neither, and just thought it was nonsense. Roughly two weeks after he finished the beautiful tattoo he was dead, and now it is buried with him under six feet of earth. To move on to another topic.....

I saw a girl in one of my classes last year that had a row of cherry blossoms tattooed across her back. They were a bright light pink, and contrasted beautifully with her light gold skin. I used to love looking at them. They almost looked like they were in motion themselves, gently blowing in a soft breeze across her back.

I had the thought just a little while ago, that the cherry blossom resonated with me for some reason. I remembered the plum blossom's that would bloom on our tree in the backyard in the spring. They would only be there for roughly a month, and I remember when the flowers started falling, I would run out to stand under them, hoping one would fall on me. They would carpet the grass, and all of a sudden our backyard would be a breathtaking sight of bright, shiny, emerald green grass, and light pink blossoms covering a section of it.

Our two cats used to go sit in the blossoms. I don't know why exactly, but it seemed to be a thing with them every spring. I can't say I blame them; I did the same thing. I don't know why the rest of my family wasn't as enamored with the blossoms as I was......
When our cats died, I remember dreaming about them in what appeared to be their own image of heaven; our backyard in the spring, under the plum blossom tree. I felt better knowing they would always be there, under the tree in the warm spring air, watching things.

Anyway, I also found some pertinent information regarding cherry blossom tattoo's.

"Chinese Cherry Blossom

For the Chinese the cherry blossom is a very significant symbol of power. Typically it represent a feminine beauty and sexuality and often holds an idea of power or feminine dominance. Within the language of herbs and herbal lore of the Chinese the cherry blossom is often the symbol of love.

Japanese Cherry Blossom

For the Japanese the cherry blossom holds very different meaning. The cherry blossom is a very delicate flower that blooms for a very short time. For the Japanese this represents the transience of life. This concept ties in very deeply with the fundamental teachings of Buddhism that state all life is suffering and transitory. The Japanese have long held strong to the Buddhist belief of the transitory nature of life and it is very noble to not get too attached to a particular outcome or emotion because it will all pass in time.

The fallen cherry blossom is not taken lightly in Japanese symbolism either. It often represents the beauty of snow and there are many connections made in Japanese literature or poetry to a fallen cherry blossom and snow. This also has been extended to the life of a warrior whose life was ended early in battle."

He was also a practicing Buddhist. And as I find many of the buddhist teachings resonate with me, I also understand much of the meaning. He was also born in the year of the dragon.....perhaps he turned into one in his next life.
I guess I could explain the connections between the koi fish and the cherry blossom, but I don't think I need to do I?

Honey, Vanilla, Candles, and Fresh Baked Bread

2009-03-19T21:52:00.000-07:00

That pretty much sums up what I intended to write here, but I want to go into further explanation just because. After classes today, I went home to drop off my heavy bookladen backpack, and switch it out for my lighter purse. I had to buy my cat her special diet catfood, which surprisingly, she actually prefers over fattening catfood. Hmm, she'e kind of like me in that way, only she doesn't have food allergies like I do.

After getting her the last bag the pet store had left, I decided to go grocery shopping. I bought basic things like spices, and meat, and stuff. When I got home I was restless, not really knowing what to do, but realizing I needed to put the energy to a good use soon, or I would get that crazed desperate feeling, and either pace my apartment, give myself a headache, or make myself sick.

I had the brilliant urge to bake, but wasn't craving something sweet for once. I looked around my kitchen, and found a bag of gluten/wheat free cornbread mix. I was skeptical that it was even possible to bake breads without wheat flour, but thought it was worth a try, since I had all the ingredients and was feeling curious and experimental.

It didn't take more than a few minutes to get it in the oven, but the baking process took a while. I thought it wasn't going to work, and then I started to smell the scent of baking cornbread coming from the kitchen. I went to investigate, and was amazed to see my two loaves rising, and starting to form that crack on top of each one. They are both fully cooked now, and lightly brown on top. I wish I had remembered to sprinkle some sugar on top to give them more of a glossy brown look, and a sweeter taste, but I guess next time.

They are sitting by my kitchen window now, cooling off. I lit some candles after they were done, and now as I type, my apartment is starting to create some of the most delicious, wonderful scents I have ever smelled. I have a few vanilla scented candles, a light chamomile one, and a honey scented one. Combined with the simple scent of fresh baked cornbread, my apartment seems to be casting a spell over my senses.

With all the lights off now, the only light is coming from a portable reading light for my laptop, and all of my flickering candles. They are on my bookshelves, and on my desk. With their flickering warm glow, and the warmth they give off, they are lulling my body into a peace that I am suspicious of after my suffering of late. The scents of baked bread (my first), vanilla, honey, and chamomile scented candles are teasing and tempting both my nostrils to find pleasure in them, and my body to try and relax, and allow myself to find peace in something after all this time. Combined, they are lulling me, and I can almost hear their soft gentle voices urging me to try and catch up on my sleep with the atmosphere they have created for me.

I am a sensualist by nature, and I all of my senses are being activated in this little ritual I didn't realize I was performing until now. I can hear the slow traffic outside my open windows, I can watch the candle flames flicker gently in the light breeze from outside. I can smell the bread cooling in the kitchen, and the scents of the candles burning, and I can just taste the bread that is quickly becoming a source of pride and accomplishment for me. My fingers are flying over my smooth computer keys, and I love typing for some reason.

I can hear them all, including the universe itself gently asking me to rest, and trust my body to still know how to bring me pleasure and peace sometimes. To allow myself to slow down and simply feel, something I haven't done since early September of last year. They all want me to trust myself, and let go, just this one time, just for now. They want me to try.
I can't say what the reason behind this unexpected ritual and suggestions is but......I might just try; I am starting to feel lulled to sleep by what I have unwittingly created. My own self has managed to cast a spell over my conscious self, and.........perhaps I could let go, and try to relax........
Just this once perhaps...........?

(don't worry; I'll blow out the candles before going to bed. And hide the cornbread from the fur ball I live with.)

A Horoscope, or Hint from the Universe--

2009-03-18T18:03:00.000-07:00

I found a new horoscope page, and these are the two horoscopes that I read that I am trying to analyze. The first one started off discussing medieval alchemists, and their efforts to change lead into gold. I knew they tried that, people are probably still trying it; likely because it hasn't happened yet. But the horoscope goes on......

"....their motto: "For a tree's branches to reach to heaven, its roots must reach to hell." Among other things, that means you have to dig deep and work hard on redeeming your less flattering qualities in order to earn the right to exalted states of consciousness and spiritual powers. The coming weeks will be an excellent time for you to carry out this alchemy."

"Entomologist Justin O. Schmidt drew up an index to categorize the discomfort caused by stinging insects. The attack of the bald-faced hornet is "rich, hearty, slightly crunchy. Similar to getting your hand mashed in a revolving door." A paper wasp delivers pain that's "caustic and burning," with a "distinctly bitter aftertaste. Like spilling a beaker of hydrochloric acid on a paper cut." The sweat bee, on the other hand, can hurt you in a way that's "light, ephemeral, almost fruity. A tiny spark has singed a single hair on your arm." In bringing this to your attention, Gemini, I hope to inspire the rebel in you. Your homework is to create an equally nuanced and precise index of experiences that feel good. According to my reading of the astrological omens, you will be able to call on tremendous reserves of intelligence as you identify the numerous modes of pleasure that are available to you, and define them in exquisite detail."

Rather interesting, but what do they mean exactly? Abstract thinking and logic are usually two areas of expertise for me, but.......I get the feeling these clues will take a little more effort than usual.

Am I supposed to go deeper into myself, into my own personal hell to reach my own personal heaven? That sounds a lot like what I wondered about a few weeks ago. I can honestly say right now that my hell is far more frightening than it ever has been; and heaven? I can't really imagine it. Maybe I should just let all that information sink in a little more.

The other horoscope just seems like a variation on the first one. I am a master at categorizing, and describing my own types and levels of pain. Pleasure in categories I lack. I have very little experience with pleasure, and more than enough of pain. Perhaps that sounds a little dramatic, but it is my life, and I have my own lens to look at it with. Categorize pleasure? Really? Huh, it sounds kind of impossible, or very unlikely, especially with where I am in my life now.......

I know; this is clue or hint from the universe, I understand. I just.....don't know where I would start on this task. Or if I really want to. I know it's backwards, and my lost love said so too, but pain and unhappiness are what I have become so familiar with that they are almost comforting in their longevity in my life.

Pleasure.........that is like another planet to me, and a planet which I don't entirely trust. I have only scratched the surface of that planet, never landed and stayed for any length of time. I don't know if I will be able to breath the atmosphere's gases, or if it is only an illusion. Maybe the planet only appears inviting before you land, and after you touch down, you realize you can't breath, and it was all unreal. I don't even know anyone there, or how they live, and what their customs are, or if I would get along with them. I am highly suspicious of this other world, and what effects its environment might have on me. Maybe it's too dangerous to plan a trip there now, maybe I should just stick to reading about it in stories written by other people who have been there; let them take the risk........

Night Thoughts

2009-03-17T16:28:00.000-07:00

The nightmares seem to be getting more frequent, and easily triggered. I had one last night, and it ruined any hope I had of sleeping a deep sleep. I woke up, and my body thought it was about 6am. When I rolled over to look at my alarm clock, hoping it really wasn't 6am already, I found it was 2 o'clock in the morning. At first I was relieved I had a few more hours to sleep, and then the nightmare that woke me resurfaced, and I remembered it. As my mind played out the images, my stomach got the message, and tightened causing instant nausea and chills.

This a my life; anyone care to join me? Sounds wonderful doesn't it? The nightmares have been coming more frequently, and more on top of each other. Sometimes my subconscious, or conscious self manages to figure it out, and tries to steer my mind away from the nightmare, and on to something more pleasant to dream about. This only causes my mind to start a new dream which at first appears to be a nice dream like I wanted, but which quickly turns into another nightmare that makes me sick.

I am almost sure this is just another part of grieving, but it seems to be escalating in some ways, and almost improving in others. I don't get it, and this is one of those things where one has to navigate uncharted waters without a map, or any directions from other people. It's like trying to get thru a swamp in a foreign land blindfolded, but with everyone saying you'll do fine, and come out if it soon. Life is confusing, even when one is almost a college graduate.

New Reading

2009-03-16T15:21:00.000-07:00

I just started reading the book about grieving. All this time, I have avoided any books on the subject, or anyone's advice on where to go, and who to talk to. I don't know why this was; maybe because I didn't want to admit I was grieving, or that he wasn't coming back. Maybe I just didn't want to be a part of that group, and thought it would classify me in a certain way.

The book is called "Unattended Sorrows," by Steven Levine. So far, I am only a few pages into it, and already it sounds a lot like me. I don't know why, but my own grieving of my love is a highly private matter. I have a friend that has been thru a similar occurence, and talking to her really lifts me up sometimes. She reminds me of a fairy or sprite that mistakenly took an odd twist one day, and got stuck in a human body. She has short light brown hair that's usually sticking up in places, green eyes that look even older than mine, and wears clothes that I would think a sprite would wear if they got stuck in a human body by accident.

I think I'll show her the book the next time I see her. That's another thing about this friend; she doesn't respond much to voice messages or email, but when I am almost at my lowest point, she'll just materialize next to me somewhere, and ask me if I want to talk, and that she got my messages. Odd creature, but an invaluable one for me right now. I haven't talked to her in about a month, but I hope I get to see her soon, and tell her what I've been thinking.

But.....the book is good.

Life and Love: My Own Theories

2009-03-13T22:01:00.000-07:00

I seem to be in a rather philosophical mood this evening. I don't know what brought it on, but I figured I should use it for something good before it wears off.

I came home today after traveling around the city a little bit. I don't really live in what I always thought a city should be, it's more like a small town that's spread out, with a tiny metropolis and a few skyscrapers scattered around for effect. For now, it's home, and I think the city is finally starting to grow on me, and I don't want to leave--at-least not right now.

I went to a bookstore because, I wanted to learn something new, and I was curious about some subjects that had been flitting thru my mind for most of the day. I went to my favorite bookstore, and looked in all my favorite aisles. I didn't find anything in them, and decided to browse sections I rarely visited. I found myself in the cookbook aisle, then the eastern religions section, and finally the medical book section.

Surprisingly enough, I found some books that I didn't realize I needed to read, and promptly fell in love with them, and brought them home with me. I found a cookbook with recipes in it for people with many of the food allergies I have. Also a book which I'm sure most of my friends, including the one I will be separating from soon would breathe a sigh of relief knowing I'm reading; It's about the grieving process written for an famous group of widows that I am still in awe of each and every day. And I found a simplified version of The Tao-Te Ching.

I am eager to read all three of the books, but am kind of tired with the lateness of the hour, and decided to tuck my new friends away for another day when I can devote more time to them. But I decided to write because, it makes me feel a little better about my life when I do. I am finding more and more that in looking inside myself, or just seeing where life can lead me, like I did today, that I can find the answers I seek on my own, without anyone else's help or advice.

But.....I found myself talking to my former love's picture tonight. I have so far stopped myself from getting the one piece of clothing I have of his out of my closet where it's folded, and wrapped in a black satin bow down so I have that piece of him left to keep me warm at night. I know that's a long sentence, but I couldn't think of a way to shorten it, maybe later.

Grieving is not something that simply goes away, or that you move on and away from. For me, it is a constant process that I keep adjusting to. It doesn't end. There isn't a day where I have woken up and thought; "whew, glad that's over." I wake up most mornings pissed off to still be here, and wondering what good it is to get up and live such a lonely, grey life. But, as I am an independent young woman, I have bills to pay, and classes to go to, so I get up, and handle my business as well as I can.

But.....I held his picture close to my cheek, and whispered how much I still miss him, and how my heart hurts so much, I'm surprised it didn't shatter months ago. I told him how I miss his arms wrapped around me, holding me tightly, and making me feel loved, and protected, and honored all at once. He admired me so much, and at the time, I didn't really get it. I adored and admired him, and that was most of what filled my vision.

I wonder if he saw the strength I didn't know I had until he died, and how far it has gotten me. I didn't ask him to come back, but I sighed and nuzzled his picture before trying to get some needed sleep. Obviously, that idea isn't working just yet, so here I am.

I remember thinking as I put his picture back in its place that; I think I finally understand that annoying quote about better to have loved and lost than to never have loved at all. And from where I'm standing, I think I can claim to know what it's like. I am glad I got the chance to love him, and while I am sorry that I lost him, in the worst sense of the word, I wouldn't wish it had never happened. I'm happy to have had the chance to know what it is like to be loved by a man. To have a brief taste of life like you read about in books, or see in movies.

It was worth it, and I still have no regrets, except some obvious ones. I thought of that Eric Clapton song before trying to get some sleep. It just popped into my head. The one that has the line about knowing someone's name if you saw them in heaven. I realized that in my case, and I can't explain it yet, but, I don't think I would know him if I saw him again. It's like.....the memories are still there, but with time coming in between them and me, the're.....fading or distancing themselves from me--something like that. I know, it doesn't make any sense, but then, have I really made sense so far?

But.....I miss my man, but I wouldn't bring him back for all the pain he was in. It's quite a conundrum you know. I miss him so much I ache inwardly, yet I would not bring him back just to satisfy my own selfish needs. I could not wish him back and watch him suffer in his illness. Perhaps it's better this way for all of us. I don't know. I lost my train of thought, so I'll try and remember to come back to this post later. Hopefully, I'll not come back to it in the middle of the night from either nausea or a nightmare. They've both become my sleep buddies, painful as they are, but hopefully they won't bother me tonight.

Pleasant dreams to whoever might have stumbled unwittingly onto my blog. Get some deep sleep for me will you? Maybe my cat will purr me a lullaby, and sleep next to my overactive head tonight. She's good at that, and fusses when she's decided I'm not taking care of myself well enough. She's a four legged feline, yet I think she truly believes that she is more intelligent than me when it comes to common sense. Eh, wouldn't surprise me. I am after all the one who is saying goodnight to invisible people I don't even know.
Good night anyway.