Friday, July 31, 2009

Neighborly Love

Muriel and Agnes are neighbors. They have been friends for more than 40 years. Although ripe in age, they manage to keep with the times . . .

Phone rings . . .

Muriel: “Hello?”
Agnes: “It’s Agnes.”
Muriel: “Why hello, dear. How are you?”
Agnes: “I noticed a large truck come in today. There was a big package.”
Muriel: “Oh really? I don’t recall receiving a package . . . ”
Agnes: “Muriel, focus! I meant next door!”
Muriel: “Oh. Really? That’s nice.”
Agnes: “Do you have your binoculars handy?”
Muriel: “Why, yes. Yes I do.”
Agnes: “Let’s have a look then, shall we?”
Muriel: “Okay. Let's see - my, what a pretty garden!”
Agnes: “Muriel, focus! That’s just an accessory!”
Muriel: “Oh, sorry.”
Agnes: “Do you see? Something is terribly wrong!”
Muriel: “Whatever do you mean? There are children. Oh, and I see a young woman . . . ”
Agnes: “I don’t believe they read the directions.”
Muriel: “Come again?”
Agnes: “When I walked past, I noticed the label on the truck before it parked.”
Muriel: “Yes?”
Agnes: "Well, it read: "Interaction is required for successful implementation.""
Muriel: “Oh my . . . ”
Agnes: “Yes.”
Muriel: “Do you think she will notice?”
Agnes: “They always do, dear. They always do.”
Muriel: “Care for a spot of tea?”
Agnes: “I would love some, thank you. I will be right over.”

Agnes hangs up the phone, walks out of her home (glances next door, of course), and crosses the street to visit her friend.

Perhaps Agnes and Muriel should try the Internet instead . . .

Thursday, July 30, 2009


He approaches the entrance, removing an item of clothing with each step. Nearly undressed, he has reached his destination. He hesitates. Sighing, he moves toward the door. It feels clammy and moist to his touch. He pushes gently and the door creaks open.

Carefully, he enters. In doing so, he loses consciousness. He remains standing while the wind embraces him and he glides to the center of the room. He experiences a painful ecstasy as his flesh is slowly peeled away, ripping, beginning at his feet. He hears what sounds like a surgical glove that is being removed from a physician’s hand, only to realize the sounds are coming from him. There is movement everywhere. Coils of cable-like branches are unwinding and moving toward him. They unravel at the floor to his feet and course through his exposed muscle tissue. They are almost at their destination - his groin.

His eyes open as if awakened from a trance. His body is pulsating and deformed. The roots are now entwined with his muscle tissue, moving through his veins. In agony, he lets out a bloodcurdling scream while the cords rip out through his center. Out of each tear liquid is flowing. A mixture of blood, earth and root follows.

The roots entwine as if to form a cord. He begins to claw at his body, attempting to prevent the inevitable. His blood is boiling. His muscle tissues are outstretched and gurgling. The cord slithers from his center while maintaining its grasp and anchors itself into an outlet.


The door closes as a woman walks past. Without the slightest glance, she sips her tea. “Mmm,” she sighs. “Looks like we finally have power.”

Wednesday, July 29, 2009

You Are Here

You are the father who commands respect
You are the mother who desires recognition
You are the teen who wants to be noticed
You are the boy who wishes to cry
You are the girl who seeks to be included
You are the child who yearns to be loved
You are the infant who seeks out comfort blindly

You have a voice - be heard; let them know you are here.

Tuesday, July 28, 2009

Go To Sleep

The sun has set and the darkness is near. With dread, you prepare for bed. Everyone else has fallen asleep. They are coming for you soon. They are always timely and unnerving.

In your bed, you hear the whispers. On some nights, you are fortunate to fall asleep quickly. On other nights, you lay helpless in torment and agony. There is no one to help you through this. You are alone.

The first one comes quietly. Demure and modest, she appears as a beautiful apparition. She does not complain. She is compliant with life. She dares not upset that delicate balance that keeps her life whole. She tells you all is well. You should embrace the life before you. Accept all that is given you, regardless of the circumstances. You find her lacking power, influence, and ability. She disgusts you.

The next one comes with a vengeance. She who embraces the absence of light. She is formidable and confident. She seeks out destruction. She dares not trust and she vows to repay all who cause her discomfort. She whispers uncertainties in your ear while she firmly grasps your neck. As you lose your breath, she discloses the secrets and lies that surround you. She tells you to prepare and to be aware. You are alarmed and concerned. She makes you angry.

Unbalanced by the confrontations, you anticipate the final hour where you attain sleep. You embrace your pillow and shut your eyes tightly. But the last, most formidable, creature is near.

She lies coiled at your feet. The scars of pain and turmoil are etched in her expressions. Her eyes appear hollow and vacant. She is filthy from having writhed on the floor. She reeks of insecurities and abuse. Having submitted to the lowest of standards, she claims no escape. She blatantly states that your love does not exist. You are alone in your despair. There is no solace; you will find no hope. The weight of the words ache in your chest. You scream in agony, but no one can hear you.

Those faces. The voices. The inequities. You have grown exhausted and worn from the attacks. Despite it all, you need to sleep. And as you fall into the darkness you acknowledge the truth: there is no escaping the many faces of you.

Sunday, July 26, 2009

Computer Lover

I continue to watch him. It is dark and late. He has showered and is ready to stroke. Some nights are really the early hours of the morning. Tonight’s menu includes some bondage, same-sex, and mixed race intimacies. By intimacies, I mean some serious hard-core #$%$^@$, but I am not going to be that literal. It is always different each time, which is why it has become my obsession.

I have been watching for years. I wonder, does he motivate himself during the day or are his loins pointing in that direction? Either way, it is on his mind. Shamefully, it really turns me on. I wish I could be a part of it. When he is done and the show is over, I wind up feeling inadequate and unsatisfied - completely alone. How cheap is that?

Cheap that I cannot find that passion. I can’t even reach it. The anticipation, the glazed eyes and intensity. The determination to keep seeking out more, all of the strokes and the aggressive tensions before the final “blow”...

I am beginning to sense indifference and detachment. I feel hollow, somehow. It scares me.

However, I still maintain that I require a commitment in my life. I seek out unrequited love and understanding. Forgiveness and honesty. Some semblance of emotional security - a lifelong partner, children and a home.

Until then I will continue my ventures and to seek out answers while I watch. On a final note, I will pretend I am asleep when he returns to our bed.

Saturday, July 25, 2009

Reading Is Fundamental!!!

For those of you seeking out a good read, I recommend the following:
  • To Learn Control: The Prince, by Machiavelli

  • To Understand Harmony: The Tao of Pooh, by Benjamin Huff

  • To Embrace Self-Appreciation: Anam Cara, by John O'Donohue

A professor once told me: to understand a good book, you must read objectively; never embrace the first person or narrator, else you will lose the purpose of the read. Thank you, Professor Ulysses!!!!

Friday, July 24, 2009

Talk to Me, I Can Help...

What do psychologists, therapists, psychiatrists and the like have in common? They each thrive on our inequities in an effort to fill the voids in their otherwise "respective" lives. Hence the term "Physician, heal thyself". My opinion, of course.

Comments? Feel free to leave some. Add a question; I will answer. Perhaps we can heal each other....

Thursday, July 23, 2009

Allow Me To Introduce Myself

If I were to describe myself as a design style, it would be eclectic Victorian. The room would display vintage, classic, colorful pieces that would reflect the years past. Interlaced would be the unique pieces collected from varied escapes: scarves, beads, candles, books, pale dolls and forbidden portraits. They would be carefully placed in each corner of the room, with select items resting and exposing, peacefully on a silk pillow or throw. Questionably displaced in an otherwise comforting atmosphere.

If you only spare a glance, you would miss the best features. If you lounge around and take your time, you will discover something new and exciting at every turn.

Wednesday, July 22, 2009

You Are What You Are...


Normal means...

... to be everything to everybody
... to be everything everyone wants
... to be everything he or she expects of you
... to be utterly alone

There is no such thing as normal. There is only perspective.

Monday, July 20, 2009


In anticipation, I wake
you have roused me from sleep

I can feel how you quake
as you crawl, while you creep

I can't help feeling wet
knowing now that you're near
quickly I undress
I have nothing to fear

But you're wild, untamed
the heat is strong, but you're stronger
So many you have claimed
yet I can't wait a minute longer

The coolness is rich,
so inviting and clear
You know how badly I want you
it's been so long since I've been here

It's exciting to know
it never changes with you
Life IS the beach,
who can't fall for you?

Words That Mean So Much

Beautiful Woman!

Sunday, July 5, 2009

Play with This

Think about this - you’ve dyed your hair, you have piercings, you hang out in the hottest places, your friends want to be around you. Maybe you are Goth, you like secrets, you are dangerous; you like girls - and boys....

He is checking you out. He is hot for you. Play the game, be what he wants. You got him! A week or so has passed and you feel like you’re beginning to dig his friend. What’s up with that? Oh boy, you fell into the same old rut again. Dump him, go for the friend, get dumped.

It is getting so boring. The parties are great - you are meeting new people. This looks like fun. You wanted to look hot; you got the guy, but now he just doesn’t seem worth your time. He isn’t what you wanted. At what point should you stop?

Let’s begin with this:

Step 1: Denial

No way in hell are you going to admit that you were at fault. He should know what you like by now; he should know what you are feeling.

Step 2: Confrontation

It’s his fault you are still flirting. If he paid more attention to you, this would not be a problem. Hanging with the crew, having my drink, “Let’s get this party started!”. If he didn’t want the heat, he should have never brought you there in the first place! He has no right getting in your face that way!!!

Step 3: Realization

I am feeling alone right now. I am depressed. I am lost inside of myself. I am just riding a wave. I hate my hair. I need a new wardrobe. This guy sucks. I want to be loved for me. Why can’t I be happy? @#$(%!@# them all!!!

Step 4: Acceptance

Obviously I am not happy. If I was, I wouldn’t be in this place again. They can’t be all wrong. I changed my style at least five times to nab the guys I was aiming for. I got them, then I didn't want them. That one hit I got was worth it, but he walked away - didn't want "to get burned". Why can’t I be loved for me? Maybe, I am not really representing myself.

Step 5: Healing

You are wild; you are crazy. You sleep around. Get over yourself. Face the facts. You have needs. Be honest. You want something different, change. If you are okay with who you are, start loving yourself. Everything you are, what you do, and what you like is what makes you. When you get comfortable with that, you can walk with your head high and land whatever you like. Be whatever you like. Let each mood take you where you want to go. When you land here, you will be happy being you and you will love what you are doing. Just play it safe.