thebodyeclectic

Well, a new entry at last! Though I am feeling rather tired and

discouraged. I try to always do my best, and do right by people but I

feel so unappreciated. at work and by my 'so -called' friends. Every

time I turn around someone is mad at me or never going to speak to me

again, or thinks I'm mean, or whatever.

well that's not true. my

rezs at work love me and my family loves me. Even people I've never

seen in person, people I know from the internet love me...or say they

do, or think they do. Wwhy is it every time I turn around, someone is

never going to speak to me again? I'm the same person today as I was

yesterday, and the day they met me?

Since I am an Empath I tend to

mirror people. They see themselves, or whatever it is they want in me,

because they only look at the outside, I have a multifaceted

appearance. I have different faces for different people. Not to say

that those faces aren't valid real parts of me, but they are only a

fraction, or more like a fractured portion of myself. I feel like, a

diamond, like shards of ice at times, like that Fairy tale where a

splinter of ice/glass gets stuck in the brother's heart? and the sister

goes through hell to bring him back?!

Here are a few quotes from

"The Snow Queen" as told by Hans Christian Anderson......

"They (the demons) carried the glass about everywhere, till at last

there was not a land nor a people who had not been looked at through

this distorted mirror. They wanted even to fly with it up to heaven to

see the angels, but the higher they flew the more slippery the glass

became, and they could scarcely hold it, till at last it slipped from

their hands, fell to the earth, and was broken into millions of pieces.

But now the looking-glass caused more unhappiness than ever, for some

of the fragments were not so large as a grain of sand, and they flew

about the world into every country. When one of these tiny atoms flew

into a person’s eye, it stuck there unknown to him, and from that

moment he saw everything through a distorted medium, or could see only

the worst side of what he looked at, for even the smallest fragment

retained the same power which had belonged to the whole mirror. Some

few persons even got a fragment of the looking-glass in their hearts,

and this was very terrible, for their hearts became cold like a lump of

ice.

......One day Kay and Gerda sat looking at a book full of pictures ..

and then just as the clock in the church tower struck twelve, Kay said,

“Oh, something has struck my heart!” and soon after, “There is

something in my eye.”


The little girl put her arm round his neck, and looked into his eye,

but she could see nothing.


“I think it is gone,” he said. But it was not gone; it was one of those

bits of the looking-glass—that magic mirror, of which we have

spoken—the ugly glass which made everything great and good appear small

and ugly, while all that was wicked and bad became more visible, and

every little fault could be plainly seen. Poor little Kay had also

received a small grain in his heart, which very quickly turned to a

lump of ice. He felt no more pain, but the glass was there still."

I don't know if I am the Shard.... or the Heart..I'm both at the same

time.
There are so many things about myself that I can never tell.

Secrets that are sad, sometimes strange and beautiful, but rarely

anything anyone else could ever possibbly understand. When it comes to

the end, for good or for bad, I'm hoping for good, I'll maybe tell you

then.

So anyway I am trying to get my work to let me help implement the new

software. My fingers itch every time i look at the pc's at work, which

are currently nothing but expensive paper weights. I took about 30

pairs of glasses that belonged to former Rez's and donated them to the

Lion's Club. Who by the way, totally rock. They gave a my friend a

cataract operation, and they bought my son glasses when I was to poor

to buy them. If you donate money or glasses to the Lion's Club I

guarantee that someone who really needs help will get it, and they

won't be treated with anything but respect. The Shriner's are awesome

too. My son spent 5 months at their hospital in Greenville SC and they

took care of him for years for absolutely no cost. they drove us down

there fed us paid for our motel, my son's DME's you name it. and the

Hospital is just absolutely amazing.

There were 2 shriner's from

Virginia Beach who used to drive us to the hospital when we lived in

Norfolk VA. One of the guys Rosey, Short for Rosenthal or something

like that was a clown. Not a scarey evil creepy clown, just this red

haired imp of a person who seemed to be always young, He really Honest

to God, had a twinkle in his eye. he reminded me a little oF Red

Skelton And he could do magic tricks.

the Other guy was John, he

loved to read. I love to read more than I love to eat. when I was poor,

or homeless, or whatever I would give plasma for cash, well once

anyway, I feel horrible about it for a number of reasons. or I would

find some cash at some expense of my soul, and I would never make it to

the grocery store, because I had to pass thew book store, and of

course, I can't pass a book store. So you can imagine me and john got

on like house on fire. He was really really interested in all the same

arcane history stuff i was. He was fascinated with the links between

the shriner's and the knights Templar, and Masons. He had a Book called

Born in Blood, I remember he was so excited reading about it. i looked

for it at the library but all of the copies were stolen.

which I

don't think was a random theft. i remember when I was like 18 and my

brother and his freinds were like 15 and 16. there was a Big central

library in Columbia SC, where if you went up a few floors, therr was a

reference section caged off, where you had to sign in and a pass a

gorgon of a libraian to enter the dark dusty depths of shelves like

canyons looming above your heAD. and you could Smell the books! mm it

was like the cavern of treasures from the Arabian knights, to me, like

shining piles of gold and gems, crammed into a dragon's cave, to me.

so anyway my brothers friends had stolen all of the S crowley books

from there. And i was like, "why?" and they were like (in ominous

tones) because they were to powerful and dangerous and evil to leave

where the people could get to them, they were protecting society. So i

asked well what will you do with them to which they eagarly replied

Raise Demons! apparently they were the only ones capable of weilding

such power, lol.

so any way John and Rosey our drivers our friends. Probably they made

hundreds of trips taking kids and their families to get the best

medical care in an environment geared towards kids, that treated more

than their bodies, but their hearts and minds as well.
These two guys I read in the paper are dead.

and the short article

said a wreck on the freeway coming out of Greenville SC. and it get

worse. I found out from other Shriner's more details of the story. and

I figured out some of the rest on my own

there were too kids in the van one was small their little broken body

was strapped in a carseat, their mom was there with them. there was

also another child and their mother. I never found out who they were. I

was almost afraid to because they usually picked up more than one

family for the trip and we got to know some of the others fairly well,

and we knew some of them from plaves like the Endepedance center, and

the WOW , winners on Wheels club, or the Shriner's Christamas Bash

every year.
So here is john, rosey, 2 moms 2 kids. And someone deliberately ran

them off the road is what the police figured. I can see it happening

they had nice jewlry and wads of cash, anythug woyuld have drooled at

the sight of them paying in the buffet restaurant we always went to

before we left for home.

they ran the van off the road and it

flipped, across the median, and flipped, and flipped. and when it

stopped, When it finally stopped. there were 4 adults and one child

dying, or dead, all bloody and mangled. I can hear the loud awful sound

of the engine ticking after the horrible screeching sounds of screaming

and metal hurtling across pavement, and the sound of blood dripping.

and the one poor kid left alive hanging in the straps of his car seat

with his mother dead, the other kid dead, the other mom dead, snd the

drivers dead. Or Maybe, Just Dying. and while things were just like

that, Some evil horrible Asshole, probably the one who ran them off the

road, Stole the purses the wallets the jewelry and left that kid alone

there, with the five other dying or dead people, alone on the side of

the highway, and it was along time before someone came along and saw

them and called for help.
I cannot tell you the pity and anger that I felt. The rage against all

that is unjust and cold and cruel and greedy in this world, not just

for John, or Rosey, who spent all thier time making good and making

magic and miracles. not just for the poor moms, and the kid who died,

and not just for the poor kid who lived, he was like 4 years old

already disabled for life, hundreds of miles from home with his mother

murdered and rioobed in front of him before he was abandoned, not just

for them, but for the families who loved these people, the people who

loved them who had to go on in this world alone, with memories and

horror to remind them of the past.

and you know, as far as I know

no one confessed or was turned in or anything.

even if they just

happened on the scene like vultures who could do what they did, reach

into a mangeled shriners van with a crying kid whose mom is gone

forever and grab the wallets andpull the rings off the fingers of the

dying and just walk away? What kind of monster crack head psychopath

could do that. and just go on with their life like it was nothing.

That, or those, monsters, and plenty more just like them are walking

down the street right now., standing in the grocery store line next to

you, maybe kissing their own kids goodnight.....

that's the kind of

secrets I know.
any wonder why my heart feels like shards of glass

sometimes?

I spend my life trying to the one who creates good and

love and gifts of the spirit in this world. the enemy looks so huge but

what else can I do but try, in my own limited way, to counterbalance

the haters? A little bit of something always beats nothing. Some of us

are the demons who carried the glass, and some of us are the angels and

sisters who try to pull the glass from eyes and hearts. I wrote a paper

on fairy tales and how they really ended before Hans and the Brothers

Grimm sanitised them, and this i KNOW... You have to pick a side, or

you end up on the bad guys side by default.

I tell my loved ones

that I love them all of the time, and my advice to you is to to do the

same, and I don't even have to explain why, do I? oo xx AA
.

Like the Ozzy song, I've been going through Changes." I won't go into any detail ...yet
I'll give you the Nickel Tour instead. People have been spinning in and out of my life like it is a Revolving Door. And My Life may be like some kind of Cosmic revolving door. Or No, a MERRY-GO-ROUND. or or one of those Spinning Wheels at the Park. If you think you can catch a ride go ahead and jump, but once you climb on board you better Hang On, or the Centrifugal Force will will throw you off on a tangent, and who knows where you will land, or who'll get hurt. That is because Centrifugal Force is Virtual Force -- its really Inertia Trying to keep a Body Moving in a Straight Line. So If you have trouble with Inertia, you can't make a decision or grasp an opportunity quickly. If you are way too Straight and always try to stick to the Well Trodden Path, well then you are Shit Out of Luck, Buddy.

..

Now I know some of the more deliberate thinkers out there are saying to themselves, "Hah,
but she is only going around in Circles! Why, she just runs the same old track just like everyone else, At least We can walk around the Fairground and enjoy the sights, like the Prizewinning Pig, or the Tattooed Lady."

Wrong! I am not making laps here. I am Spinning from the Center of My Being, From the Center of the Rapidly Expanding and Slowly Cooling Universe.
I am by No Means the First to have this Idea.The Whirling Dervishes trace their origin to the 13th century Ottoman Empire. The Dervishes, also known as the Mevlevi Order, are Sufis, a spiritual offshoot of Islam. In 1972, Jelaluddin Loras, Sheikh of the Mevlevi Order of America, brought the religion from Turkey to the United States. On December 17, Whirling Dervishes across the world celebrate the birth of Jelaluddin Mevlana Rumi, a mystic poet, who founded the Mevlevi Order. Wow! all that spinninng just for a Mystic Poet's Birthday party???

Nope

Whirling Dervish (wurl-ing dur-vish) n. 1. A mystical
dancer who stands between the material and cosmic
worlds. His dance is part of a sacred ceremony
in which the dervish rotates in a precise rhythm.
He represents the earth revolving on its axis while
orbiting the sun. The purpose of the ritual whirling
is for the dervish to empty himself of all distracting
thoughts, placing him in trance; released from
his body he conquers dizziness.

..
..

Far out! Well, it seems Mystic Dancers and Mystic Poets glommed on to This Concept Waaaaay before Me.

I am not physically spinning though. More like Metaphysically.

I Celebrate Life, and All The Wonders of Its Creation. there's more>

Thrones were set up and the Ancient One took his throneHis throne was flames of fire, with wheels of burning fire. A surging stream of fire flowed out from where he sat; Thousands upon thousands were ministering to him, and myriads upon myriads attended him. Daniel 7:9-10

Thrones are Angels Ringed around God. the 3rd ring to be precise, right behind Seraphim and Cherubim. I hear that they Circle around God like Balls of Flame , Spinning, Spinning, Spinning...You have heard that Expression Great Balls of Fire, right.?(And no, I don't mean the bio pic of Jerry Lee Lewis; I Do have a way cool story about that I'll tell another day) Well, The Thrones are those Great Wheels of Fire, Burning Brighter than Magnesium! Imagine that!
Even Scientists who do not Beleieve in God, must admit this Spinning Thing is pretty much Integral, (that is Essential or necessary for Completeness), to the Universe. You definitely would not be a happy camper if the world stopped spinning.
So now I have Poets, Dancers and Angels, who know Exactly how I feel. And maybe the Mundane can go walk around the 4 H exhibits at the fair and buy some really good Homemade Marmalade, (MMMmmm, Marmalade.) But those of us who spin like Tops can go So Much Further and Faster, can see Things Others don't see, With us? You can Hitch a ride across the Universe, Through Space and Time, and My Aim is to get Closer to God.
Would Y'all like a little info on Angels? I have some really good stuff on Angels.

But my point was, you shouldn't Catch a Ride With Me Unless You Realize that This Ride May Never Stop.

Never.

There is always one more thing I want to Learn or See or Do or Grow or Be or Feel; there isn't enough Time in This Life to even Begin to Experience it All, No Matter how Fast we spin, But I love the Dance! Waltzing through the Universe, Seeking that Perfection and Perfect Love No Human can Ever Give Me.

I'm 41 years old, 41! I am not going to waste a minute of my Time if I can help it. No, now that I'm 'old'? I don't have to waste any time at all worrying about whatwillotherpeoplethink, orwhatifnoonelikesme, or i'mnotprettycoolsmartthinenough. Hah screw all that Jazz! I'm 41, I can be as Goofy as I frigging want to be. In fact my kids expect it.

Cool doesn't even begin until you quit worrying about it all together. Trust Me on this. Try Everything, Find What You Like and Do it, but Keep on Trying new Things, you might find Someething you like even better, something you never knew about before. Like if you grew up in North Georgia in a little town way before the internet or cable or anything, and you always felt vaguely dissatisfied. Nothing ever filled you up. And somehow, when you were grown, you ended up in NYC and you eat Chinese food, or Thai food or Falafels, or Lumpia, Gyros, Sushi!!!!! and Damn! you realise this is exactly what you have wanted all of your life!!! This is it the thing that satisfies. It was like that for me when I took Art History, Modern Poetry, Psychology, Pharmocology, Religion...well you see what I mean. If you had stayed in that little town in Georgia and married the girl your parents liked and took over the filling station from your Dad when he retired, well,you would be pumping gas into cars with NY license plates, and Dying of Spiritual Hunger inside. You'd be doing what everyone thinks is Right and you'd be doing what was Expected, you would have never taken any Chances in Life. And you would have missed what you really wanted to have, being what God meant you to Be, and enjoying the Life That you are Meant to have. You will be Dying of that pesky INERTIA thing, my friend. (remember that inertia thing from earlier?)

Chinese food rocks my world.

Here's somepix I took 2 days ago

hmm, when i went to nursing school. i learned the science and the critical thinking. but to truly be a "Practical" nurse, they should have had daily timed drills, where we would fill out TARs and MARs, that is meds and treatments administered.
We should have had a class where all we did was learn to identify the sounds of feeding pumps that clog, iv pumps that have a problem, the delivery man bell, the sound of a wander alarm going off. things like that.
I'm getting there. we had the 3rd in a series? of deaths today. the CNA's say they come in threes. the first one i loved, the second i was right beside him when he died, and the third i handled everything on my own. A fast way to 'grow up'.
and all of this got me to think seriously about why I don't love. well i love but i keep my heart safe. i was thinking alot about my first husband and how he died. I almost let myself remember some part of that pain. i could never give my heart again like i gave it to him. I wrote a poem once that said i am afraid to love because i know too well hows to lose.
well, i do love, perhaps the way i loved my first husband was too much. trhat grand passion poets say they would die for. oh i nearly died that's true. and not just getting shot over biker gang colors or whatever. it was like my heart got torn out by the roots. like they did open heart surgery and left me to walk around with my ribcage pried apart and my heart there beating and convulsing --the slightest touch from anyone would have made it cease to beat. and i walked around like that for years. can you imagine?
there were people who met me in those days of woe.I cut my hair off, got an ugly tattoo did everything but smear my forehead with ashes and wail out loud. and there were people who met me, that thought I had no sense of humor. for those who know me try to imagine me never joking. it is nearly impossible. i WasThisCloseToDead myself.
and these deaths around me, and a few other things, i won't get into right now, have made me remember a little bit of what it was like to live and love on that razor's edge between life and death, pleasure and pain, love and mourning. i remember my husband's face a little more every day. and it hurts like burning coals or twisting knives. much safer and easier on me, and those who love me, just to forget that passion and pain, joy and sorrow.
that is why i have a tattoo of a rose growing up through a skull on my back. i will never forget but it is easier to put it behind me and not remember. that dichotomy that was/and is my life. the chiariscuro of my marriage.
like witches are born knowing that where opposite things meet, like sundown, sunset, the edge of the wood, the shore of the sea, the crossroads. all these places have a majik and a power generated by that fusion of opposites. for me to remember would set off a cataclysmic fusion in my heart, a chernobyl that still effects, years from its genesis.
no it is much better that i just cut off that part that offends me, that part of my heart that still remembers. it just hurts too much, and even if i prayed on my knees in the dust, my hand upthrust, my face covered in ashes...he's dead..and gone... and nothing i do will bring him back.
my children give me love. one of them is his. my first born son. lol but all we do is fight. i hate him for turning me into a nag and disciplinarian, and he hates me? for what? i guess it is a teenage thing.
oof well i'm glad i got that out now on to other things.
the world is still spinning our fates, turning on its axis.
all the love and memories in the world won't stop Time from rushing forwards.
catch the wave or die.
Love you guys, AutumnAngel
Sunday June 25, 2006 - 05:50am (PDT) Edit | Delete | Permanent Link | 0 Comments

please help a vampire sistah out. iamlikethis close to moving up a level! please please please! i need pintz. i don't have enough fledglings. i have empty nest syndrome, or whatever it is bats get....

So here i am again. i got some good news--- so i feel re energised! I have been

able to write 2 whole days in a row. i am getting the time off to go see the ANDERS

MANGA concert in charlottesville!yay!
more on that as the events unfold.
a resident i really felt a connection with died last sunday.
he was in the air foce in ww !! a pilot! he was incredibly attractive to me in all of his

pix. i tried to get a copy but the copy machine mysteriously broke. so maybe it

wasnt meant to be. it was cool shadowbox with red striped background him looking

left in three qarter profile in full dress uniform. it was aead and shoulders shot. his

full lips are closed and there is the vaguest hint of a smile. he looks like a person

with a real purpose in life. one that doesn't depend on the opinions of others. also

in the box were his slightly tarnished dog tags. they were sort of round back then.

they are still on the chain which is kind of draped over the pictures for effect. the

other picture is him all dressed in uniform chillin on a bench in some place like

hawaii, there are palm trees in the background. he has this casual comfortable way

of sitting. not a slouch but not all ram rod straight you know. he has his left ankle on

his right leg and this is the weirdest thing i really like his feet. go figure. he's jst all

at one time like a mythical figure from a WWII movie and such a real cool

viscerally experienced (at least for me) person. of course all the pictures are in

black and white. that soft sepia tone that all old photographs get. i hope that you

can see him in your mind since i couldn't get a copy of the picture.
at the head of his bed was this gorgeuos oil painting. intaglio?? or whatever they

call it when you use the thickness of the paint to create effects. it is all in shades of

light blue to almst white. it two ships on the sea it is abstact in the color but realistic

in the details. it waat least 30 in by 40 i'd say but i am horrible with guessing

distances. you know how some people can say of it is a mile or as quarter mile or

20 yards away? i cant do that i would never be able to answer a question about

physical distance in court. I'd just have to tell the judge about my inability to name

distances. all distances seem so relative to me. the distance you travel with a

cheerful companion is always half that of what you'd have to walk with negative

person. it is like a tesseract "a wrinkle in Time" how close i felt to this resident and

the pictures of his younger days. like time folded and i am almost there beside him

on that bench but then again i never will be at the same time. I'm crying like a baby

now. or maybe like a woman. I havent even let myself feeel this greif because i had

to work, and i need to be alone to greive. i wrote a poem about that in 1985 when

my Father, light of my life, died. my greive is ugly howling raging, tears streaming,

on my knees in the dust ...well anyway, i will find that book of poetry and put that

poem here.
can you feel this? I can feel you reading this, can you feel me? him? us all lost in

the cataracts of swirling sepia photographs, reaching out through time and space

and hell and death, just to touch each other. to know that someone is is really real,

is really here, and living this life. that we aren't so alone on our journey. to see time

like God must, the past future present all at once. can you feel it, can you feel the

beats of my heart?
So i think by now you might have grasped how strongly this person affected me

even though he could not talk, barely even breathe. he held on to life with

determination with strength of will. he had a dnr but truth be told i don't think he

wanted to go. he held on to every lastprecious second of life. because i can tell

you now No One wants to die, to go into The Big Sleep. i feel that even suicides if

they have any rational thought left must think "oh no i really fucked up now!" as the

pavement comes rushing up at them at 60 miles an hour. my husband committed

suicide so I'm not just talking out of my hat , or whatever :), here. Even if you, like

me, have a Sure and Certain Hope of the Resurrection, you won't want to go. I knew

this before I became a nurse, and started spending time with the dying. of course

we are all dying. we start dying the day we stop growing. our cells quit even

repplacing themselves eventually. the only way to stay young is too keep your

mind growing, young and flexible and full of wonder even of the smallest bits of

God's Creation. becasuse the day you think you know it all, that you can just stop

right there, and start making moral judgements based on what you think you

know??? well that is the day your thoughts stop renewing, that is surely the day you

begin to die. I believe that with all of my heart. I c ould go on for days about this.
but back to my resident. who still seems present tense to me, he is still tall, but he

is wasting away, cachexia they call it. and out of all the gin joints in all the world i

stumble into his.
And he has so many tears in his skin--- it is more delicate than onion skin paper ,

than rice paper, than wet kleenex. even easy touches tear his skin. It takes a long

time to change all his dressings. to do it right. well for ME, to do it right.
and he has a cd player. and he has a Big Band CD.
I love swing music. I used to go to a swing dance club in virginia beach. Swing

Kids is one of my favorite all time movies. and this guy has been laying there a

long time, his wife is ill too, he hasn't had any company or interaction other than

what ever the staff does to keep him alive. he has no stimulus. he is blind or almost

blind and can't even move. he's just alone in his head.
well you see where this is going. we had benny goodman, tommy dorsey swing

music cranked up just digging it whenever i came in his room, and i talked to him

about whatever I could think of. can you imagine how good it would feel when

you're laying there alone and dying and blind and still to hear someone play your

favorite music and share it with you? I think it really made him happy. I would even

sing along sometimes, and I can't carry a tune in a bucket, he of course was pretty

patient with me about this. my natural exuberance makes me forget that other

people may not enjoy my singing. lol it is like god gave me a choice write or sing,

and i picked write. I'm happy with it.... so here we are like 2 or 3 am every morning ,

and sometimes after the sun came up, I'd play it for him again. after a while the

cna's quit turning it off. but there we are. he's 80, I'm 40, and we just now run into

each other.
because i can feel him thinking.I know him, you know?
And i see that he has a big pile of cards that have been mailed to him.
by a friend.
a friend who is a woman.
for like 39 years.
she is the kind of girl who buys 2 or three cards at a time if they say how she feels.

I'm like that. when I have time I have been known to give someone I love up to 6

birthday cards at once.
so I read him all of his cards, as often as I can because I have 47 other people to

take care of. and what those cards Said!!!! omg.
he used to spend hours painting, and talking about philosophy, and drinking cuba

libres in like 65, 66. i was born in 1965. can you imagine him 20 years after the

great war and he is a nasa scintist now, and he has done the math that made the

first moon shots possible, and it is a sunny spring or summer day, a dazzling sunny

day that turns the water into just a blinding reflection, and there are boats out on the

water and the sky is blue blue blue, and you have a best to sit around with, talking

about philosophy and drinking cuba libres. O how cool is that! and you are a

scintist a real old fashioned do math the hard way no calculators or computers,

and you are so brilliant you made sure man, or the machines of man made it to the

moon. you live through the war. did he drop bombs what did he do did he get shot

at? i have a picture of him flying his plane maybe i will post it and someone can tell

me what this sort of plane would have done, move cargo? spy on the axis powers?

who knows? i want to know.
and in South carolina, on that same day I come screaming into this world, brand

spanking new, and ready to do it all, baby!!! imagine these people those crystylline

moments of time, so real, so visceral, and then these paths cross in the spring of

2006. wow what a trip. what a trip, man.
so this freind, she of the many cards. says " i hope and pray someone will read this

to you, so that you will know you're not alone, and that our spirits will never be truly

apart. i hope sopmeone reads this to you so you will know what an effect you had

on me, how you changed my life helped me become the person I am today. I pray

someone will read you this card so that you will know how much I love you"
and here i am reading these cards these beautiful cards aloud to him so that he will

know all of these things.
and here i am reading these cards these beautiful cards aloud to him so that he will

know all of these things.

Do you imagine for one moment, that any of this is an accident?

a random chance?
that there is no great plan that synchronicity is not real, that all of the universe is

not.just the way it is supposed to be?
It feels so good to cry these tears and scream these screams. I need to grieve.
the other day I was driving home and the sun had just come up and music was

playing, and the world is lush and green the bright lime green of almost summer

and the flowers rock and the birds sing and the sun shines. and this wonderful man

isn't here any more to see it or feel it. the world has turned for a week without him.

how can that be so? how could something so importanat change, and the world just

not come to screeching halt??? well because this Life is all we have and we have

to enjoy every single second, because one day we'll be gone too. and all that is

left of us won't be our material possessions. all that will live on in this world are the

mansions we built in oother people's hearts. some part of us, of our voice will be

repeated by our childern, our friends, by even strangers who crossed our path.

the treasures that really matter cannot be measured. just as distance and time are

so hard for me to make concrete. it is because what is really real, you can't see

with your eyes only with your heart. I am going to take a break so that i can post

this. love you kiddies aa
the next edit
a resident i really felt a connection with died last sunday.
he was in the air foce

in ww !! a pilot! he was incredibly attractive to me in all of his pix. i tried to get a

copy but the copy machine mysteriously broke. so maybe it wasnt meant to be. it

was cool shadowbox with red striped background him looking left in three qarter

profile in full dress uniform. it was head and shoulders shot. his full lips are closed

and there is the vaguest hint of a smile. he looks like a person with a real purpose

in life. one that doesn't depend on the opinions of others. also in the box were his

slightly tarnished dog tags. they were sort of round back then. they are still on the

chain which is kind of draped over the pictures for effect. the other picture is him all

dressed in uniform chillin on a bench in some place like hawaii, there are palm

trees in the background. he has this casual comfortable way of sitting. not a slouch

but not all ram rod straight you know. he has his left ankle on his right lknee.. and

this is the weirdest thing i really like his feet. go figure. he's jst all at one time like

a mythical figure from a WWII movie and such a real cool viscerally experienced

(at least for me) person. of course all the pictures are in black and white. that soft

sepia tone that all old photographs get. i hope that you can see him in your mind

since i couldn't get a copy of the picture.
at the head of his bed was this

gorgeuos oil painting. He painted it in 1969. it has this intaglio?? or whatever they

call it when you use the thickness of the paint to create effects. it is all in shades of

light blue to almst white. it two ships on the sea it is abstact in the color but realistic

in the details. it waat least 30 in by 40 i'd say but i am horrible with guessing

distances. you know how some people can say of it is a mile or as quarter mile or

20 yards away? i cant do that i would never be able to answer a question about

physical distance in court. I'd just have to tell the judge about my inability to name

distances. all distances seem so relative to me. the distance you travel with a

cheerful companion is always half that of what you'd have to walk with negative

person. it is like a tesseract "a wrinkle in Time" how close i felt to this resident and

the pictures of his younger days. like time folded and i am almost there beside him

on that bench but then again i never will be at the same time. I'm crying like a baby

now. or maybe like a woman. I havent even let myself feeel this greif because i had

to work, and i need to be alone to greive. i wrote a poem about that in 1985 when

my Father, light of my life, died. my greive is ugly howling raging, tears streaming,

on my knees in the dust ...well anyway, i will find that book of poetry and put that

poem here.
can you feel this? I can feel you reading this, can you feel me?

him? us all lost in

the cataracts of swirling sepia photographs, reaching

out through time and space

and hell and death, just to touch each other. to

know that someone is is really real,

is really here, and living this life. that

we aren't so alone on our journey. to see time

like God must, the past

future present all at once. can you feel it, can you feel the

beats of my

heart?
can you feel this? I can feel you reading this, can you feel me? him? us

all lost in the cataracts of swirling sepia photographs, reaching out through time

and space and hell and death, just to touch each other. to know that someone is is

really real, is really here, and living this life. that we aren't so alone on our journey.

to see time like God must, the past future present all at once. can you feel it, can

you feel the beats of my heart?
So i think by now you might have grasped how

strongly this person affected me even though he could not talk, barely even

breathe. he held on to life with determination with strength of will. he had a dnr but

truth be told i don't think he wanted to go. he held on to every lastprecious second

of life. because i can tell you now No One wants to die, to go into The Big Sleep. i

feel that even suicides if they have any rational thought left must think "oh no i

really fucked up now!" as the pavement comes rushing up at them at 60 miles an

hour. my husband committed suicide so I'm not just talking out of my hat , or

whatever :), here. Even if you, like me, have a Sure and Certain Hope of the

Resurrection, you won't want to go. I knew this before I became a nurse, and

started spending time with the dying. of course we are all dying. we start dying the

day we stop growing. our cells quit even repplacing themselves eventually. the

only way to stay young is too keep your mind growing, young and flexible and full

of wonder even of the smallest bits of God's Creation. becasuse the day you think

you know it all, that you can just stop right there, and start making moral

judgements based on what you think you know??? well that is the day your thoughts

stop renewing, that is surely the day you begin to die. I believe that with all of my

heart. I c ould go on for days about this.
but back to my resident. who still

seems present tense to me, he is still tall, but he is wasting away, cachexia they

call it. and out of all the gin joints in all the world i stumble into his.
And he has

so many tears in his skin--- it is more delicate than onion skin paper , than rice

paper, than wet kleenex. even easy touches tear his skin. It takes a long time to

change all his dressings. to do it right. well for ME, to do it right.
and he has a

cd player. and he has a Big Band CD.
I love swing music. I used to go to a

swing dance club in virginia beach. Swing Kids is one of my favorite all time

movies. and this guy has been laying there a long time, his wife is ill too, he hasn't

had any company or interaction other than what ever the staff does to keep him

alive. he has no stimulus. he is blind or almost blind and can't even move. he's just

alone in his head.
well you see where this is going. we had benny goodman,

tommy dorsey swing music cranked up just digging it whenever i came in his room,

and i talked to him about whatever I could think of. can you imagine how good it

would feel when you're laying there alone and dying and blind and still to hear

someone play your favorite music and share it with you? I think it really made him

happy. I would even sing along sometimes, and I can't carry a tune in a bucket, he

of course was pretty patient with me about this. my natural exuberance makes me

forget that other people may not enjoy my singing. lol it is like god gave me a

choice write or sing, and i picked write. I'm happy with it.... so here we are like 2 or

3 am every morning , and sometimes after the sun came up, I'd play it for him

again. after a while the cna's quit turning it off. but there we are. he's 80, I'm 40, and

we just now run into each other.
because i can feel him thinking.I know him, you

know?
And i see that he has a big pile of cards that have been mailed to

him.
by a friend.
a friend who is a woman.
for like 39 years.
she is

the kind of girl who buys 2 or three cards at a time if they say how she feels. I'm like

that. when I have time I have been known to give someone I love up to 6 birthday

cards at once.
so I read him all of his cards, as often as I can because I have

47 other people to take care of. and what those cards Said!!!! omg.
he used to

spend hours painting, and talking about philosophy, and drinking cuba libres in

like 65, 66. i was born in 1965. can you imagine him 20 years after the great war and

he is a nasa scintist now, and he has done the math that made the first moon shots

possible, and it is a sunny spring or summer day, a dazzling sunny day that turns

the water into just a blinding reflection, and there are boats out on the water and the

sky is blue blue blue, and you have a best to sit around with, talking about

philosophy and drinking cuba libres. O how cool is that! and you are a scintist a

real old fashioned do math the hard way no calculators or computers, and you are

so brilliant you made sure man, or the machines of man made it to the moon. you

live through the war. did he drop bombs what did he do did he get shot at? i have a

picture of him flying his plane maybe i will post it and someone can tell me what

this sort of plane would have done, move cargo? spy on the axis powers? who

knows? i want to know.
and in South carolina, on that same day I come

screaming into this world, brand spanking new, and ready to do it all, baby!!!

imagine these people those crystylline moments of time, so real, so visceral, and

then these paths cross in the spring of 2006. wow what a trip. what a trip, man.


so this freind, she of the many cards. says " i hope and pray someone will

read this to you, so that you will know you're not alone, and that our spirits will

never be truly apart. .....i hope someone reads this to you so you will know what an

effect you had on me, how you changed my life--- helped me become the person I am

today..... I pray someone will read you this card so that you will know how much I love

you"

and here i am reading these cards these beautiful cards aloud to him so

that he will know all of these things.

Do you imagine for one moment, that

any of this is an accident?

a random chance?
that there is no great

plan that synchronicity is not real, that all of the universe is not.just the way it is

supposed to be?
It feels so good to cry these tears and scream these

screams. I need to grieve.
the other day I was driving home and the sun had

just come up and music was playing, and the world is lush and green the bright

lime green of almost summer and the flowers rock and the birds sing and the sun

shines. and this wonderful man isn't here any more to see it or feel it. the world has

turned for a week without him. how can that be so? how could something so

important change, and the world just not come to screeching halt??? well because

this Life is all we have and we have to enjoy every single second, because one

day we'll be gone too. and all that is left of us won't be our material possessions.

all that will live on in this world are the mansions we built in oother people's hearts.

some part of us, of our voice will be repeated by our childern, our friends, by even

strangers who crossed our path. the treasures that really matter cannot be

measured. just as distance and time are so hard for me to make concrete. it is

because what is really real, you can't see with your eyes only with your heart. I am

going to take a break so that i can post this. love you kiddies aa

I am so fricking tired but i am going to try and string a coherent sentence or 2

together. i just got off work, the graveyard shift muah ha ha. one more night then i

have sat and sun off! i plan to take my kids and whoever else is up for a road trip to

a real live drive in movie just north of here. we'll stay over at a motel so i dont have

to drive home if I'm lucky i can find alt driver and actually party down at the drive in

like the good old days. it is a double feature over the hedge and mi III, i wish it was

all cool old kung fu movies or a sci fi horror marathon but hey it is good enough for

me. there are only like 10 drive in movies joints on the east coast and i'm glad to

share the experience with my kids. gosh knows my parents fell asleep in enough of

them and i sat up all night watching clint eastwood sphaghetti western flix all by

myself. i saw billy jack at a drive in. like most of my friends when we played

cowboys and indians the indians were the good guys and we all wanted to go on a

vision / spirit quest. i loved kung fu with david carradine too. i must add that to my

lists as well. i hope my best girlfriend here in town will go with me, i met a new guy

here who's cool, actually a few cool people lately.
omg a local business owner i met , i knew his wife from mops (ill explain that later

for the uninitiated) sent me a pic of him with wild long pink hair with the mayor of

farmville. omg it is a scream, if you lived here you'd pee yourself laughing at that

one.
my baby's daddy just scored a killer programming job at longwood university YAY!

we may eat meat a few times a week now! maybe buy clothes somewherer besides

a thrift store...if i can find cool clothes anywhere else.
qat work i have 2 dying patients. i feel bad i really like them. one is a guy who has

big band swing cd i play it for him because i love swing too, and talk to him when i

take care of him, i read a card he got to him. his friend that sent it says he has the

most wonderful sweet sensitive soul and he's very spiritual kind and generous.

which you can tell from his pix. wwii uniforn smiling in a black and white snap with

his wife etc. the person begged that the card be read to him. i camethisclose to

crying right then and there when i read it to him. I'm glad i got to meet him at all

even if he cant talk anymore. all i pray is that i can make the way a lil easier for my

dying patients make sure they have whatever comfort there is to be offered. and

pray for them alot. i hope he prays for me, i have a feeling God really would hear

every word this man prayed.
well enough sad stuff.
oh yea and i had to write someone up last night. i felt bad about it but they did

wrong. I will cut people slack but not to the point it compromises care for residents.

that is unacceptable. i hope they don't hate me because i guenuinely like them, but

i gotta do what i get paid for...
more as soon as i can get 10 minutes to myself! love ya kiddies kisses and kisses

and hugs aa
oh shoot my cell phone is trashed. i lost all of the data i had stored! waaah. i got a

new one tho for new .. im me oooxxx aa

riday, March 17, 2006


wednesday's child
Current mood: contemplative

hmm if you had the chance to confirm whether or not your worst fears were true, would you take that opportunity....
i would. i did.
everything i heard was what i already knew in my heart.
i was born into a world of pain, why i had to walk this path. i don't know. and as i grew older i brought some of my pain on myself through choices i made. but i never have known what real love feels like.
i never knew what 'not-pain' felt like.
i understood the paths of pain and less pain. and alot of times i went on and picked the hard road. because i thought i would only grow stronger. and so i did, in many ways.
i was always the one who knew what was coming. and i chose to live anyway.
i knew what lay before me. i remember once when i was about 8 yrs old. it was this lovely summer day. and was eating watermelon. so sweet and cold. i stood in the shade of a tree by the mossy banks of a creek where i caught crayfish all the time with my brother zand sister. and at that moment i had some cool clothes on and i was healthy and had a nice house to live in and 2 parents. a private school , so a good education. and everything about that moment is as clear and bright in my mind as now, no even brighter and more clear than now.
and in that precise moment, i knew. i knew this was the last happy day i was going to have. for a long long time. maybe even forever. i watched my brother and sister as they ran and played and fought in the grass and i knew we were going to lose everything. and there was nothing, nothing, i could do to stop it.
and i decided to feel every thing about that moment that was bright and clear and good and fresh. the lime green shadows of the leaves, the cool clear water rushing over the stones in the creek bed. god and all his angels still around me, and all was as right as things ever got in my world.
and i knew in my heart there was nothing before me but pain. and i decided to keerp on living anyway. what an odd thing for a child to think, some might say. but to those of us born into pain, it was quite a reasonable descion.
remember the poem
Monday's child is fair of face,
Tuesday's child is full of grace,
Wednesday's child is full of woe,
Thursday's child has far to go.
Friday's child is loving and giving,
Saturday's child works hard for a living,
But the child born on the Sabbath Day,
Is fair and wise and good and gay.
guess what day i was born on.
i'm wednesday's child. full of woe. and i am not the only child of wednesday. my brothers and sisters, those who survived, are out there. some are broken worse than i, some are dead, or worse in prison. i am actually quite blessed as these things go. i'm still here still alive, despite everything even myself. there were times when i only stayed alive to piss people off. hey, it was the only reason i could come up with. that and the hope that one day all of that sorrow would be nothing but a memory.
and i think another reason i chose the hard row to hoe. was just to say 'fuck you, fate', you can't control everything that happens. you can't control what i do or how i feel about it. i was like saying to fate to the world to my enemies to death to sorrow and pain, i was saying, 'bring it on mother fucker' i am strong and smart and stubborn enough to take everything you throw my way ...and then some, with one hand tied behind my back, even yea, ...thought i was a real tough guy. lol.
you may say a white chick born in america what could she have possibly had to deal with that was difficult in any way. i am not going to write the litany of darkness, the diasters that were the framework of my life. and the mistakes i made when weaving that cloth, because i snatched it from the hands of fate and said if i go down it will be my way. and since pain was all i really knew, it didn't seem like i could make things anyworse. everytime someone said sit down, i stood up. i never trusted anyone to tell me the right way, and with good good reason. there was no one in my life to trust. except those that could not help, or died. it was always only me.
and now that i'm older. and i think of the times iwasjustthisclose to my death, and talked my way or tricked my way out of it. and the funny thing is we all die anyway. it has just occurred to me recently that all grow old and die. and i wish i haad known of some more productive ways to have spent my time. maybe i'd have alot of money now. it's only pieces of green paper. having more pieces of paper is how you win the games of life. in law in medicine, and money. little green pieces of paper won't mean a thing on judgement day, so i never bothered. but now i see that i wish i could give more leave more security to my children. not that you can count on anything being secure even with your most valiant efforts.
you can work and save and deny yourself and buy locks and chains and things. but god can blink all of us and aall of our works away in seconds. all i can do is hope that i taught them something about love and character. even if i screwed everything else up.
so now i'm here, at a point in my life where descions must be made.
part of me wants to leave everything behind and go study religion and philosophy. but i won't leave my children.
part of me wants to go back to the sea so badly. i need those pieces of paper if i am to return to my true mother.
and part of me is aching for love.
or perhaps it is passion i crave.
but the smart bettors stay far from wednesday's children. afraid the woe will rub off on them, or that they may feel obligated in some way to try and help. and most people help no one but themselves.
i understand how people want money. how people want sex. how people want drugs. i understand how to manipulate these things.
but i can't imagine what inspires one to love. to be there day after day after day. i love my children like that. i understand loving your children like that. after all in some ways they are you. they are me, with me here to give them some of the things i needed but never got.
come to think of it i don't really empathise with the pursuit of power either. i suppose because if i tell people what to do, and they obey their fates depend on me. fuck it i don't want the responsibility. sink or swim on your own i think. but maybe, just maybe, mind you, that is a step i might have to take, or is it another pointless thankless task like much of my life seems to be now.
i wonder if i make a difference to my patients my family the world, or if i'm just trying to move a pile of sand with a pair of tweezers.
not like i would give up on trying to change things, no matter how impossible it seems. because things in this world are not right. we all know that.
that is another reason i had children. to start my own tribe of cool little people and thus change one corner and some paths in this world.
and i'm really tired now. and if i was expecting some big pay off for my efforts, that one day maybe someone would care for me, take care of me, ... i guess i've always known there were no guarantees.. didn't
stop me from hoping.
or dreaming. maybe i dream too much.
if you had the chance to have some of your worst thoughts about your life confirmed would you.
i have denied myself until i'm nearly invisible. a ghost up walking and breathing in this world. one foot in the grave and unsure where to put the other. because no ground ever seemed safe. and if it seemed safe it was not desirable. is it possible to have both
security and passion
love and excitement
pleasure without pain.
and how how how do people find that
i'd really like to know
i'd like to know now before i get any older.
nothing i caree about seems to matter in this world.
philosophy art religion dreams stories.
is there a way to live your life by these principals and still get little green pieces of paper. i never thought so.
but maybe there is a way to live well and with integrity in this world.
to have possessions without selling your soul.
if i was rich i would study and travel and learn and learn everyday of my life.`
i learn now but i am anchored in space.
which is good because, i used to blow any way the wind went, i didn't care where i ended up, it didn't really matter i thought.
but it does, if i want to be something besides miserable, on a regular basis. i guess.
um on my vf page i said i felt haunted.
and i find out i am.
how do i rid myself of these howling spirits who do not love me, just want to possess me bring me down, until i am as dead as they are.
i want not pain, and i want passion, and i want knowledge, and i want my children. and i suppose a lot of green pieces of paper to maybe make it easier to have these things. though god knows i have had so much money i didn't know how to spend it all and it didn't make me happy. in fact i ended up back out in the addiction hell, that howls outside my door. wailing with the ghosts that haunted me.
i want to replace those sounds. with something. something that satisfies my heart. what is that thing.
i need to know.
or else drag on like this for the end of my days. never taking chances.
not all chances are bad things.
i've wasted so much opportunity, so much promise, so many gifts.
i pray it is not to late.
that somehow, i can fight my way back to somewhere near the beginning, and not lose everything, to start over and live a life not spent mourning. maybe thats why i always wear black. a widow all of my days. even before my husband died.
i am a mother so i don't think i can be a bride of christ. there surely must be something out there for me. a destiny not just a compromise that keeps me breathing.
is that possible.
and to all of wednesday's children, i love you. and i recognise your pain. kisses peace out angel -

8:57 PM - 0 Comments - 0 Kudos - Add Comment - Edit - Re

click it it can be addictive though

http://www.squirrel-rehab.org/

ooh well i feel a little better.i took a bunch of codiene cough medicine and now i'm kind of loopy. i forgot how bad narcotics make me itch before i took it. well i sure remember now.

before i went back to school this last time, i was researching possible careers.

i read about this lady who takes in displaced baby squirrels like if their mom got killed, forest cut down where they lived or forest fire orphans. she would nurse them with little baby bottles. she put them on these pallets that she rigged up with pulleys, to put them up in the treetops so they would not get to used to being earthbound. she would gradually increase heights, and how long they stayed up until they were ready to go out on their own.

she was like an employee of wildlife and game comission, took care of baby squirrels for like 4 states.

i was like, o wow- what a job--- too cool-- i love it

SQUIRREL REHABILITATOR.

it cracks me up to say it. but i figured there wouldn't be alot of job openings for this and i'd have to relocate, and probably the competion would be fierce. yea its a cut throat world when you are looking for position as a squirrel rehabilitator, snarf, well not really. lol.

i also thought of raising goats. that is a longer story i'll tell another time. kisses caro

go read my myspace blog it rocks http://blog.myspace.com/autumnangel1

Friday, March 10, 2006



hoopty gets a bath and graveyards in spring
Current mood: sunny



ok, so i finally got off my ass today and quit crying and feeling sorry for myself.i got my frameable copy of my lpn license today. wow, so cool. i need to hunt up a suitable frame.
i went job hunting.
i even washed my car ---yes i did. anyone who knows me knows hoopty aint even the word for this car. its is all smashed from accident last september. i got my face banged up bad, i was so glad i had all my teeth when. i got to er that was a big worry.and i didn't get my nose broken aagain thank you god. i used to have the most delicate pretty lil nose. i mean it isn't hideous now but it was so tiny and cute.
oh well anyway i wash that car religiously once every 6 months whether it needs it or not lol
actually i gave up on trying to get my kids to do it, they try but ....well they are little kids.
i'll look and see if i have a pic with car in it.
it is beautiful buttery yellow sunshine day. the warm sweet breeze of spring ran its fingers through my hair when i stepped outside. i'm thinking about going over to cenmetary when the kids get home and take them for some ice cream too. oh the life of a vampire child,.
but since my dad is far away in an unmarked grave i hope there is some out there like me giving him props and keeping him company sometimes. i love to read headstones. some people do rubbings where you put paper over the words and press down with charcoal or pencil. i don't do all that though.
in columbia sc there is a big cemetary where my older brother and sister, they were twins/ are buried. my mom is buried near them. way back in 77 78 when me and gf roxane walked places alot. well we'd smoke a joint and just go rambling or visiting. we would go to this cemetary alot and read the headstones. and there was one in particular that sticks in my mind. it was a girl she died in like 72 i think, and she was young. a poem she had written was on her tombstone. and i remember there was a line about
'green lights dancing on my face'
it was beautiful. i felt like i knew her. well, i guess i did/do.
today was a day like that... the the leaves are slowly spreading lime green shade. and if you stand under one of these trees and tilt your face up, and close your eyes ..you, too. can feel green lights dancing on your face.
so do that and remember her, and my family too. and be glad you are walking around in the sunshine this spring, instead of having grass growing over your grave. cheers me up. lol
bye for now everyone more soon caro

Le couer a ses raisons que la raison ne connait point

i'll have to quit crying soon and go put my baby on the schoolbus. I don't want them to see I'm sad.
I am blessed with my children i will have to put a pic up of us. I love my darling baby so much.

KILL MY LANDLORD - EDDIE MURPHY

here is a post from one of my past sites

The Father of Art Nouveau Murdered by Nazis

mucha died shortly after a brutal interrogation by nazi's one more reason to hate them


HateHackers? Get Hijack This!
HateHackers? Get Hijack This!
Art Nouveau was a unique style in the visual arts that reached its peak about 1900. It began at a time when society was rapidly changing from the settled past to a more urban, industrialized way of life. Artists in turn tried to create an art style to react to this modernization.


Influences on Art Nouveau


England produced some important influences on what would become Art Nouveau. In 1861 William Morris, an artist with socialistic ideals, began the Arts and Crafts movement, where everything would be handmade. William Morris was influenced by the writer John Ruskin, who had a strong anti-industrial bias. He was also influenced by the Pre Raphaelite artists, who felt that they were returning to a simpler time of Medieval purity, focusing on nature. Morris felt that Art should be for All; everyone could be an artist and produce beautiful craftsmanship. Unfortunately, modern times were not Medieval times, and handmade products were expensive for the average person. Morris's ideas set into motion the later societies, exhibitions, and journals that would lead into Art Nouveau.


It is a style which is hard to define; very often it is expressed with fluid, curvilinear asymmetrical lines, and associated with themes from nature. Art Nouveau was known by various names in many European countries, as well as a bit in North America. Each country had its own interpretation of this modern art.




profiles.yahoo.com/cantbeangel
www.artopp.net/mucha.htm

www.spywareinfo.com/~merijn/downloads.html


S Eliot's The Lovesong of Alfred J Prufrock

I shall wear white flannel trousers, and walk upon the beach.
I have heard the mermaids singing, each to each.

I do not think that they will sing to me.

I have seen them riding seaward on the waves
Combing the white hair of the waves blown back
When the wind blows the water white and black.

We have lingered in the chambers of the sea
By sea-girls wreathed with seaweed red and brown
Till human voices wake us, and we drown.



More TS Eliot

A woman drew her long black hair out tight
And fiddled whisper music on those strings
And bats with baby faces in the violet light
Whistled, and beat their wings
and crawled head downward down a blackened wall
And upside down in air were towers
Tolling reminiscent bells, that kept the hours
And voices singing out of empty cisterns and exhausted wells.

In this decayed hole among the mountains
In the faint moonlight, the grass is singing
Over the tumbled graves, about the chapel
There is the empty chapel, only the wind's home.
It has no windows, and the door swings,
Dry bones can harm no one.
Only a cock stood on the rooftree
Co co rico co co rico
In a flash of lightning. Then a damp gust
Bringing rain


from The Love Song of Alfred J Prufrock

But though I have wept and fasted, wept and prayed,
Though I have seen my head [grown slightly bald] brought in upon a platter,
I am no prophetand here's no great matter;
I have seen the moment of my greatness flicker,
And I have seen the eternal Footman hold my coat, and snicker,
And in short, I was afraid.

No! I am not Prince Hamlet, nor was meant to be;
Am an attendant lord, one that will do
To swell a progress, start a scene or two,
Advise the prince; no doubt, an easy tool,
Deferential, glad to be of use,
Politic, cautious, and meticulous;
Full of high sentence, but a bit obtuse;
At times, indeed, almost ridiculous
Almost, at times, the Fool.

I grow old I grow old
I shall wear the bottoms of my trousers rolled.

Shall I part my hair behind? Do I dare to eat a peach?
I shall wear white flannel trousers, and walk upon the beach.
I have heard the mermaids singing, each to each.

I do not think that they will sing to me.

I have seen them riding seaward on the waves
Combing the white hair of the waves blown back
When the wind blows the water white and black.

We have lingered in the chambers of the sea
By sea-girls wreathed with seaweed red and brown
Till human voices wake us, and we drown.



S Eliot's The Lovesong of Alfred J Prufrock

I shall wear white flannel trousers, and walk upon the beach.
I have heard the mermaids singing, each to each.

I do not think that they will sing to me.

I have seen them riding seaward on the waves
Combing the white hair of the waves blown back
When the wind blows the water white and black.

We have lingered in the chambers of the sea
By sea-girls wreathed with seaweed red and brown
Till human voices wake us, and we drown.



V. DEATH BY WATER from TS Eliot's The Wasteland


PHLEBAS the Phoenician, a fortnight dead,
Forgot the cry of gulls, and the deep seas swell
And the profit and loss.
A current under sea
Picked his bones in whispers. As he rose and fell
He passed the stages of his age and youth
Entering the whirlpool.
Gentile or Jew
O you who turn the wheel and look to windward,
Consider Phlebas, who was once handsome and tall as you.

More TS Eliot

A woman drew her long black hair out tight
And fiddled whisper music on those strings
And bats with baby faces in the violet light
Whistled, and beat their wings
and crawled head downward down a blackened wall
And upside down in air were towers
Tolling reminiscent bells, that kept the hours
And voices singing out of empty cisterns and exhausted wells.

In this decayed hole among the mountains
In the faint moonlight, the grass is singing
Over the tumbled graves, about the chapel
There is the empty chapel, only the wind's home.
It has no windows, and the door swings,
Dry bones can harm no one.
Only a cock stood on the rooftree
Co co rico co co rico
In a flash of lightning. Then a damp gust
Bringing rain


from The Love Song of Alfred J Prufrock

But though I have wept and fasted, wept and prayed,
Though I have seen my head [grown slightly bald] brought in upon a platter,
I am no prophetand here's no great matter;
I have seen the moment of my greatness flicker,
And I have seen the eternal Footman hold my coat, and snicker,
And in short, I was afraid.

No! I am not Prince Hamlet, nor was meant to be;
Am an attendant lord, one that will do
To swell a progress, start a scene or two,
Advise the prince; no doubt, an easy tool,
Deferential, glad to be of use,
Politic, cautious, and meticulous;
Full of high sentence, but a bit obtuse;
At times, indeed, almost ridiculous
Almost, at times, the Fool.

I grow old I grow old
I shall wear the bottoms of my trousers rolled.

Shall I part my hair behind? Do I dare to eat a peach?
I shall wear white flannel trousers, and walk upon the beach.
I have heard the mermaids singing, each to each.

I do not think that they will sing to me.

I have seen them riding seaward on the waves
Combing the white hair of the waves blown back
When the wind blows the water white and black.

We have lingered in the chambers of the sea
By sea-girls wreathed with seaweed red and brown
Till human voices wake us, and we drown.




i dunno who wrote this

Look at me, my depth perception must be off again
Cause this hurts deeper than I thought it did
It has not healed with time
It just shot down my spine You look so beautiful tonight
Remind me how you laid us down
And gently smiled before you destroyed my life
Would you find it in your heart
To make this go away
And let me rest in pieces?
Would you find it in your heart
To make this go away
And let me rest in pieces?
Would you find it in your heart
To make it go away
And let me rest in pieces?
Look at me, my depth perception must be off again
You got much closer than I thought you did
I'm in your reach
You held me in your hands
But could you find it in your heart
To make this go away
And let me rest in pieces
Would you find it in your heart?
To make it go away
And let me rest in pieces

nother pic

4:34 PM - 5 Comments - 0 Kudos - Add Comment - Edit - Remove


sad heart
Current mood: tired

I am bumming so hard about having to move. my landlord was like hey i'm making ninety thousand bux of this deal. and of course nothing is more importanat than money. to him, or i guess to most of the known world. the more i think about what i will lose moving the more it hurts. i'm up before seven am to cry you know something is wrong. all my life i've had to move and move. only once to go somewhere better. i wish I could move back to norfolk/virginia beach. i miss the city i miss the water. or go somewhere besides even futher into the no where that is here. and i try so hard to be cheerful around the people i talk too, because no one wants to be around anyone with problems. it bums them out and bores them and probably they get scared you'll ask them for something, or they might feel obligated to offer. someone actually did offer to help. but i haven't been able to catch their vibe/energy for a while. i hope i didn't open my heart up just to be hurt. i couldn't help myself anyway, my heart does what it will. I don't have control of it.

Le couer a ses raisons que la raison ne connait point

i'll have to quit crying soon and go put my baby on the schoolbus. I don't want them to see I'm sad.
I am blessed with my children i will have to put a pic up of us. I love my darling baby so much.

KILL MY LANDLORD - EDDIE MURPHY

here is a post from one of my past sites

The Father of Art Nouveau Murdered by Nazis

mucha died shortly after a brutal interrogation by nazi's one more reason to hate them


HateHackers? Get Hijack This!
HateHackers? Get Hijack This!
Art Nouveau was a unique style in the visual arts that reached its peak about 1900. It began at a time when society was rapidly changing from the settled past to a more urban, industrialized way of life. Artists in turn tried to create an art style to react to this modernization.


Influences on Art Nouveau


England produced some important influences on what would become Art Nouveau. In 1861 William Morris, an artist with socialistic ideals, began the Arts and Crafts movement, where everything would be handmade. William Morris was influenced by the writer John Ruskin, who had a strong anti-industrial bias. He was also influenced by the Pre Raphaelite artists, who felt that they were returning to a simpler time of Medieval purity, focusing on nature. Morris felt that Art should be for All; everyone could be an artist and produce beautiful craftsmanship. Unfortunately, modern times were not Medieval times, and handmade products were expensive for the average person. Morris's ideas set into motion the later societies, exhibitions, and journals that would lead into Art Nouveau.


It is a style which is hard to define; very often it is expressed with fluid, curvilinear asymmetrical lines, and associated with themes from nature. Art Nouveau was known by various names in many European countries, as well as a bit in North America. Each country had its own interpretation of this modern art.




profiles.yahoo.com/cantbeangel
www.artopp.net/mucha.htm

www.spywareinfo.com/~merijn/downloads.html


S Eliot's The Lovesong of Alfred J Prufrock

I shall wear white flannel trousers, and walk upon the beach.
I have heard the mermaids singing, each to each.

I do not think that they will sing to me.

I have seen them riding seaward on the waves
Combing the white hair of the waves blown back
When the wind blows the water white and black.

We have lingered in the chambers of the sea
By sea-girls wreathed with seaweed red and brown
Till human voices wake us, and we drown.



More TS Eliot

A woman drew her long black hair out tight
And fiddled whisper music on those strings
And bats with baby faces in the violet light
Whistled, and beat their wings
and crawled head downward down a blackened wall
And upside down in air were towers
Tolling reminiscent bells, that kept the hours
And voices singing out of empty cisterns and exhausted wells.

In this decayed hole among the mountains
In the faint moonlight, the grass is singing
Over the tumbled graves, about the chapel
There is the empty chapel, only the wind's home.
It has no windows, and the door swings,
Dry bones can harm no one.
Only a cock stood on the rooftree
Co co rico co co rico
In a flash of lightning. Then a damp gust
Bringing rain


from The Love Song of Alfred J Prufrock

But though I have wept and fasted, wept and prayed,
Though I have seen my head [grown slightly bald] brought in upon a platter,
I am no prophetand here's no great matter;
I have seen the moment of my greatness flicker,
And I have seen the eternal Footman hold my coat, and snicker,
And in short, I was afraid.

No! I am not Prince Hamlet, nor was meant to be;
Am an attendant lord, one that will do
To swell a progress, start a scene or two,
Advise the prince; no doubt, an easy tool,
Deferential, glad to be of use,
Politic, cautious, and meticulous;
Full of high sentence, but a bit obtuse;
At times, indeed, almost ridiculous
Almost, at times, the Fool.

I grow old I grow old
I shall wear the bottoms of my trousers rolled.

Shall I part my hair behind? Do I dare to eat a peach?
I shall wear white flannel trousers, and walk upon the beach.
I have heard the mermaids singing, each to each.

I do not think that they will sing to me.

I have seen them riding seaward on the waves
Combing the white hair of the waves blown back
When the wind blows the water white and black.

We have lingered in the chambers of the sea
By sea-girls wreathed with seaweed red and brown
Till human voices wake us, and we drown.



S Eliot's The Lovesong of Alfred J Prufrock

I shall wear white flannel trousers, and walk upon the beach.
I have heard the mermaids singing, each to each.

I do not think that they will sing to me.

I have seen them riding seaward on the waves
Combing the white hair of the waves blown back
When the wind blows the water white and black.

We have lingered in the chambers of the sea
By sea-girls wreathed with seaweed red and brown
Till human voices wake us, and we drown.



V. DEATH BY WATER from TS Eliot's The Wasteland


PHLEBAS the Phoenician, a fortnight dead,
Forgot the cry of gulls, and the deep seas swell
And the profit and loss.
A current under sea
Picked his bones in whispers. As he rose and fell
He passed the stages of his age and youth
Entering the whirlpool.
Gentile or Jew
O you who turn the wheel and look to windward,
Consider Phlebas, who was once handsome and tall as you.

More TS Eliot

A woman drew her long black hair out tight
And fiddled whisper music on those strings
And bats with baby faces in the violet light
Whistled, and beat their wings
and crawled head downward down a blackened wall
And upside down in air were towers
Tolling reminiscent bells, that kept the hours
And voices singing out of empty cisterns and exhausted wells.

In this decayed hole among the mountains
In the faint moonlight, the grass is singing
Over the tumbled graves, about the chapel
There is the empty chapel, only the wind's home.
It has no windows, and the door swings,
Dry bones can harm no one.
Only a cock stood on the rooftree
Co co rico co co rico
In a flash of lightning. Then a damp gust
Bringing rain


from The Love Song of Alfred J Prufrock

But though I have wept and fasted, wept and prayed,
Though I have seen my head [grown slightly bald] brought in upon a platter,
I am no prophetand here's no great matter;
I have seen the moment of my greatness flicker,
And I have seen the eternal Footman hold my coat, and snicker,
And in short, I was afraid.

No! I am not Prince Hamlet, nor was meant to be;
Am an attendant lord, one that will do
To swell a progress, start a scene or two,
Advise the prince; no doubt, an easy tool,
Deferential, glad to be of use,
Politic, cautious, and meticulous;
Full of high sentence, but a bit obtuse;
At times, indeed, almost ridiculous
Almost, at times, the Fool.

I grow old I grow old
I shall wear the bottoms of my trousers rolled.

Shall I part my hair behind? Do I dare to eat a peach?
I shall wear white flannel trousers, and walk upon the beach.
I have heard the mermaids singing, each to each.

I do not think that they will sing to me.

I have seen them riding seaward on the waves
Combing the white hair of the waves blown back
When the wind blows the water white and black.

We have lingered in the chambers of the sea
By sea-girls wreathed with seaweed red and brown
Till human voices wake us, and we drown.




i dunno who wrote this

Look at me, my depth perception must be off again
Cause this hurts deeper than I thought it did
It has not healed with time
It just shot down my spine You look so beautiful tonight
Remind me how you laid us down
And gently smiled before you destroyed my life
Would you find it in your heart
To make this go away
And let me rest in pieces?
Would you find it in your heart
To make this go away
And let me rest in pieces?
Would you find it in your heart
To make it go away
And let me rest in pieces?
Look at me, my depth perception must be off again
You got much closer than I thought you did
I'm in your reach
You held me in your hands
But could you find it in your heart
To make this go away
And let me rest in pieces
Would you find it in your heart?
To make it go away
And let me rest in pieces

8:18 AM - 1 Comments - 0 Kudos - Add Comment - Edit - Remove

Thursday, March 09, 2006


vids n stuff
Current mood: sleepy


did you go see my new vids yeti triple dog dare ya' to click this

ove and magic

I'm in Love

THE KING OF THE WITCHES IS HERE TO CLAIM ALL OCCULT THRONES, DOMINIONS AND POWERS

THE KING OF THE WITCHES IS HERE TO CLAIM ALL OCCULT THRONES, DOMINIONS AND POWERS

a poem from http://fairyprinces71.stumbleupon.com/ , exactly how i feel

Sometimes all I want is to be rendered breathless, helpless, captive, bound, penetrated, completely under your protection, under your guidance and control.

Sometimes all I want is to be taken, ravaged, used, objectified, brought to my knees and challenged....

Sometimes all I want is to lie there naked with my legs across you and your face touching mine, talking about the day...Smelling your skin ...kissing...spooning...nuzzling... Just living.

Sometimes all I want is to sit across the room from you and watch you sleep. Watch your chest rise and fall with each breath...Close my eyes and listen to your rhythm. Breathe in synch with you.

Sometimes all I want is just to look into your eyes and read you, and let you into my world, no words needed.

Sometimes all I want is for you to know, I write all this just for you.
V.






8:18 PM - 2 Comments - 0 Kudos - Add Comment - Edit - Remove


wine and music
Current mood: awake

well I am still bumming over this whole moving thing ,and sundry other problems, but tonight, no crying, at least i hope no crying. the baby's daddy is watching kids, and I got a 12 pk of mike's hard wine coolers. I'm going to get gloriously buzzed and try and starighten out all my music files into some kind of order. i have some music by new bands i want to share. actually a few were only new to me, but some haven't even gotten a cd out yet..I'll be chatting tonight too. why am i not going out you say? because it is cold, and expensive and i never go out drinking alone. I love tequila, and tequila can lead to trouble.
back in the day I went out, i'd dance all night long. but boy in this little town I can't even step out without derailing the gossip trail around here. I don't think i could dance for 4-6hrs straight at a time anymore. though I'd love to.
Anyway hopefully tonight will be a relaxor for me. what is going to happen will happen, so I might as well turn off my brain, well ,the part of my brain that worries.
there is someone I'm thinking of all of the time lately, and they make me smile. well more later aa

4:49 PM - 0 Comments - 0 Kudos - Add Comment - Edit - Remove

THE KING OF THE WITCHES IS HERE TO CLAIM ALL

OCCULT THRONES, DOMINIONS AND POWERS

well I am still bumming over this whole moving thing ,and sundry other problems, but tonight, no crying, at least i hope no crying. the baby's daddy is watching kids, and I got a 12 pk of mike's hard wine coolers. I'm going to get gloriously buzzed and try and starighten out all my music files into some kind of order. i have some music by new bands i want to share. actually a few were only new to me, but some haven't even gotten a cd out yet..I'll be chatting tonight too. why am i not going out you say? because it is cold, and expensive and i never go out drinking alone. I love tequila, and tequila can lead to trouble.
back in the day I went out, i'd dance all night long. but boy in this little town I can't even step out without derailing the gossip trail around here. I don't think i could dance for 4-6hrs straight at a time anymore. though I'd love to.
Anyway hopefully tonight will be a relaxor for me. what is going to happen will happen, so I might as well turn off my brain, well ,the part of my brain that worries.
there is someone I'm thinking of all of the time lately, and they make me smile. well more later aa

padre engo makes my world stay in orbit. mmm mm good, aa

ActuaLLY I AM JEHOVAH WITNESS/ 7TH DAY

ADVENTIST/ BAPTIST/ METHODIST HYBRID.i think most

satanists are kind of prissy/ better than thou/ and judgemental . they'd fit

right in at a bush barbeque. bush = evil. thinking of them? gives them power, if

i give them my thoughts. i won't though, they can starve without them.

i believe in protecting the weak, old, sad, childremn ,disabled, the dis- enfranchised. the world is so hung up on materialism and looks. it sucks.
aa