How My Eyes Have Shone

Maybe at the end of the world, I'll have someone to hold my hand as the sun falls away and all the sky becomes burning night. Someday soon, I'll be able to wake and feel warm and strong arms around me, to know there is a heart beating so closely to mine...it beats for me. What wonderous words love can provoke in the soul, in the mind, in the fear and soul of salvation of anyone. I feel my eye lashes beat soft air against my cheeks and all time slows, the day is long and bright and lonely. He's somewhere deep inside - but I need to reach him soon. My heart feels like it beats with the entire weight of the world laid upon it - it strains for it's fullness and further anticipation. My life is not perfect - I don't reach for perfection - I reach for protection of heart and of soul. I havn't searched for, but rather found the Golden Bird of Destiny sitting outside my window, so softly cooing. My prayers, I send to the sky, I send to the moon and the sun - they return in full glory sometimes that shows me that life is true and wonderous.I need to know that life is worth living and truth actually lives the way it should. I need to know that when I die, Ive lived the best life I could have ever of chosen. My life, so far, has been a test of my spirit, a trail of sadnesses and unsumountable pain - but Ive come out on the other side and my eyes are still shining. I can still feel love - can it feel me? Please let me see the falling stars as a tribute to love, life and the promise of possibility.

Introspective Allegory

Possibility springs many thoughts to mind - in my mind it brings hope....

On stopping at the edge of the river, she peered into its clear and rippling surface. She sought to understand love and the fear she felt that this beginning would not come to fruition. She feared possibility, she feared her own day dreams; now stemming from keen advances of an enlightened soul. On the brink of disbelief she lies. How could someone feel as they say without ulterior thought? The whole world does not want to hurt you, she reminded herself, even though that’s what you’ve learned and been taught. There is room for dreams and wishes. All life is not common sense and planning. Such melodies she listened to in the dark become more fruitful and somehow, though inconceivably, she didn’t feel so alone. Her thoughts wandered in a dream-like web to fall upon wishes for the future. There will be a time when your heart will sing of love when the once comes along that can hear your soul, she thought.
There is no room for darkness in the place you to long to be. When all my thoughts are filled with sunlight and green grass, there has to be a reason. The wind blows stronger today than any other day that came before it, and the touch of the sun seems more loving than her rays have ever allowed. Sometimes it takes another soul to awaken another, is it so today?

...and through my eyes i dream...
.........................
.............
......
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The Glory of the World

When all the World was new, with no headstrong creatures to disolve its natural beauty andfill it with synthetic materials and pollution...the whole world had glory, and not just its select parts.

I think about all of issues surrounding life and love and nature and pollution and death and animals...its just all so much to think about and be concerned with. Many people fill their minds with their own tiny little spinning world and not an ounce about anything that isnt self-centered. Theres a giant hole in our protective coating that is the O-Zone layer, the US is at war for no other reason aside from money and oil, in Ghana children are dying of hunger and disease while people the US are obese and wont help themselves. There are so many issues and so much sadness to always be mindful of it, we're only human. But I just think that we need, as a whole, to think more globally and less "me". Of course, people have been saying this for years, and yes, most of those that hear it don't retain it or act on it.

Thinking less about sadness and more about beauty, and the beauty of our surrounding world really helps to cut through the madness of modern life. In a habitat no longer of trees and moss and flowering plants and born into a world of steel and glass and smoke...we still belong to nature. We depend on it though no one seems to pay attention to that little fact. If only mother nature mattered as much to us as our paychecks...sadly though how can that happen in a world thats just concerned with the next form of technology? But I know when Im feeling stressed out I just lay outside and look up at the sky at twilight where I can see the candy colored sunset combined with the moon shining brightly overhead and I know where my true alliances lie.

"Theres nothing so beautiful as what we did not create..." .. .

From Crib to Casket

The funerary services in our country ((for the most part, with small exception)) prey on grief, unpreparedness and haste to make a most profitable business deal from your bereavement. Jessica Mitford's expose, The American Way of Death Revisited, reveals painful truths about death services...

They say that a funeral in the 3rd most expensive thing you will ever buy, right behind a house and a car. The average funeral costs upwards of $5,000 to a middle class family, and many are very much unprepared. Grief does this thing to your mind - you are disoriented, forgetful, unfocused, self motivated, teary, weepy, and possibly near hysterical. Some funeral businesses use this time to serve you as well as extricate money from sad, unwitting pockets,

Mitford's book tells of how conventions are held for those in the funerary business and they highlight business productivity, monetary gain and new innovation ((also meaning higher prices to customers)). Some funeral directors have pointed out that many people use a funeral to atone for any mistreatment or neglect on their part considering the deceased (also known as a decendent). Caskets (formerly known as coffins) are patterned in stategic ways around a showroom or in a catalog in such a way that a salesperson can navigate to higher nd higher prices without giving a visual indication of such. A technique that includes never quoting full price but on time, each price raise becomes "And this lovely model can be had for only $60 higher than the last." And in this way somewhat tricking unwitting and unorganized customers.

However, one must consider that yes, this is a business, but it is a sensitive business to be in and must be treated delicately and with respect for both the deaceased and their bereaved family and friends. Many people have turned to straight cremation with a memorial service after to cut down on costs. With a circumstance like dealing with the dead, we consult those who we hope can help in a depressing and confusing time. Sadly, though most often than not families of a decedent are taken advantage of monetarily and their trust is betrayed. Mitford's book is a look into a world most will never understand, nor hope to become knowledgable about.

the grave's a fine and solemn place,
but none,
i think,
do there embrace.
..
.

Adult

As another Birthday occurs in my life, Im wondering exactly what being and "Adult" means...

With certain birthdays, certain privilages are given to you. At 13, youre officially a teen, at 18, your body is your own, at 21 alcohol is your own and at 65 youre officially considered a senior. With these ages does more come to you other than stereotypes? Other than burdens? Other than preconceived notions? Today I am an adult, but what does it mean? I sat in my living room doing Algebra homework from class and got mostly anxious, but also expectant. What does this mean?

Well in conventional standards - I can get married, I can be charged with murder, felony and larceny, I can get a credit card, I can file independent on tax returns & I can adopt a baby ((if I lived in Russia)). But on the less conventional side, the more emotional, personal one - what is this? What is my life now, how is it different from an hour ago when I was still not an adult? Do hold more responsibilities than I did an hour ago? Well I still have to get to all my classes, I have to do my homework and chapter work, I have to take showers and eat, I have to sleep and read things, I have to feed my cat and I have to wear socks with sneakers. Does'nt seem to me that Ive gone through a warp thats very different from an hour ago, wow.

Maybe the big deal is that it has been set by my government that Im an adult at this age. They have evaluated maturity in humans, averaged it, and also takedn in responsibility levels and averaged them. Well, the government seems to have made this nicely clean cut for us all. Though in my life Ive met many "adults" who seemed to have it less together than I did at the time. Some people older than I, but who disregarded others feelings and rationality. Perhaps age is a personal thing. If it is, then Im ageless and that just the way I like it.

Its my Birthday and Ill cry if I want to,
cry if I want to,
cry if I want to.
You would cry to,
if it happened to you...
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Window on the World

As a college student stuck temporarily ((until I get my degree)) in my city, I use the internet as a window to world of International Art and Culture...

I find myself listening to Vivaldi and stroking through files upon files of Italian, German, Roman, Greek and French art. May it be from the 1400's or just yesterday - Im soaking it all up. Im storing all the beauty and profoundity for when I can have another chance to venture forth across our world and gaze upon these wonders with my own eyes. Ive found the web to be a complete necessary when wanting a glimpse of beauty or wisdom. I find out all I need to know by typing in a few words and there it all is, right at my fingertips. When at times I pine for meaning in my life, I look to beauty and I find thats all I need.

"and those who look upon
the beauty of the world with an open and teary eye,
will always triumph in
life, love and perfection of soul..."
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Cultural Capital

With so many Sociological studies being done on the underachieving minorities of America - who is really to blame?

As a flowering student of Sociological ((its only my minor)) Analyzation, I'm beginning to learn and quickly understand the hidden lines benteath the surface of the polished veneer that is the unstable American social web. In such a "melting pot" as the US, many tensions exist between differing and/or competing social and cultural groups. Many want to look to the minorities and study their educational, medical and criminal records and compare them to those of white descent and ask why.

Cultural Capital;
forms of knowledge; skill; education; and any
advantages a person has which give them a
higher status in society, including high expectations.

Advantageous chains are formed in our society, the US would to be thought of as a meritocracy ((and has said so on many occasions)) though it is not. Who you know, in some instances, will get you father than what you know. Cultural capital is passed over generations in the family insitution through sight, example, mimicry and outreach; the desire and action of a concerned parent for their child. In a home where an example is given to their children of receiving welfare checks, underachieving, in some instances drug or alcohol abuse and no emphasis on success either educationally or by way of a career; the children are brought up with a lower cultural capital and lesser drive for success than a child reared in an educationally driven household. These families usually include working class and poverty level families, putting the upper class and middle class families at quite an advantage.

Cultural capital is seeded and grown, so to speak, through emphasis on education, achievement, art, politics, human interest, career and the drive for personal gain ((most times also at the advantage of groups or other individuals)) and for a small portion, dignity, love and compassion. Not only is it a foundation for a child to grow into a purposeful and driven individual, it also helps establish character and individuality through abtract thinking. In modern times an education is basically all ((with the exception of sports, entertainment and fashion)) that can boost you into a successful and monatarily comfortable position in the career market. Individuals with low cultural capital have been found to not pass through higher education and therefore, the levels of achievement are falling. The groups that have been found to have rampant low cultural capital are those of low class, immigrants and minorities. How can this be changed? How can the institution of family be boosted to do what it's ideal purpose is? As for me, I don't believe so called "Americanization" will fix it. Perhaps what the US wants is not what the world wants, perhaps different cultures aspire to a different gain than do Americans. Maybe we have it all wrong?

Americanize;
To absorb or assimilate into
American culture;
to bring under American influence or control.
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Loss

At the time of new beginnings - my mind is straying to the people, things and pieces of myself I've lost this year and my whole life...

Dwelling on pain is debilitating and heartbreaking. We do not dwell, or at least we try not to. Our hearts ache and cry and we look for the light to pull ourselves out of the pain. I have lost souls in my life, people have hurt me and used me. People have raised their hands to me and bruised me, cut me. People have hurt my family and torn us apart. The government took my first love and he serves in a foreign country because of a signature and commitment of four years, the permission given by his lost and craving soul. Blood strangled the oxygen from my grandmother's lungs as she died in a cold and lonely hospital room, a desperate delay kept me from showing her a last spark of love before her soul left our world. A disease has distorted my sister's life and may have ripped her ability to bear children away from her. AIDS took my beloved aunt's adopted son from her, our world lost a talented performer, artist and loving son. Quick affliction of a disease took the life of a shining soul who knew nothing in his heart but lights, dancing and beauty. OCD is trying to strip my best friend's life from her; causing her anxiety, fear, sickness, malnutrition and loss of joy.

We and our loved ones suffer through the deepest pains and torrents of tears to keep going on to a further day. A day that we hope with all of our hearts will be the best of our lives, or at least better than the day we're caught in. My heart aches for those who know pain, feel it and are wrapped in it distorting veil. We bare so much, to only have more thrown at us. We are living creatures wandering aimlessly and painfully through our lives looking for love, happiness and a sense of joy and belonging. Some never find it, others have it in the palm of their hands - only to feel the burning when its ripped away from them.

What is life without love? What is joy without loss? What is laughter without tears? What is life but agony, love and rapture? We need so much, only to come up with what we've made or found, can it be enough? Can short joys be enough to conquer all pain? They can if you believe they can...

theres a song thats inside of my soul
its the one that ive tried to write over and over again.
im awake in the infinite cold
but you sing to me over and over again.
-only hope, switchfoot
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A New Year - A New Start

In only six hours ((Atlantic time anyway)) the year changes, it starts over fresh and new - and with a new number - 2006.

People feel New Years ((or rather the day after)) makes everything turn over fresh, a new year means new beginnings and hopefully prosperous, happy times. I know personally, I always make a wish at midnight that the next year will be better than the one thats just ending. I hope for happiness and love, hope and joy for myself and my family. People for hundreds and hundreds of years have been celebrating this night, mostt recently with champagne, music, paper crowns and a kiss at midnight, ending with the old song "Auld Lang Syne" which means "the good old days".

Here's an excerpt from wilstar.com ((since im biting at the bit to get to some champagne and nibbly food));

ANCIENT NEW YEARS
The celebration of the new year is the oldest of all holidays. It was first observed in ancient Babylon about 4000 years ago. In the years around 2000 BC, the Babylonian New Year began with the first New Moon (actually the first visible cresent) after the Vernal Equinox (first day of spring).

The beginning of spring is a logical time to start a new year. After all, it is the season of rebirth, of planting new crops, and of blossoming. January 1, on the other hand, has no astronomical nor agricultural significance. It is purely arbitrary.

The Babylonian new year celebration lasted for eleven days. Each day had its own particular mode of celebration, but it is safe to say that modern New Year's Eve festivities pale in comparison.

So here's a big New Years Eve kiss from me to you. Good Luck in the new year.

"should auld aquintance be forget
in times of
auld lang syne."
..
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The Christmas Spirit

During the Holiday Season, modern girls like myself are trying to find the Christmas Spirit...can we find it?

As I sit looking at my plastic, pre-lit Christmas tree drinking Soy hot cocoa and sucking on a sugar free candy cane I'm thinking about what Christmas means to me, and what it use to hold for me as a child. My family has always meant a lot to me and even though we were never that big, there was always so much floating in my house of love during the holidays. People have traditions, my family does'nt really have any...well maybe like three. We put up a tree, we watch all those 50's clay-mation Christmas movies and we make peanut butter/chow mein noodle stovetop cookie things. I feel like one of those modern/old fashioned girls - i preach gender equality but think families should have dads, moms, babies and an animal or two. I can program a website or a computer, but I love to watch old black and white French movies. I have all the energy saving halogen electric lights, but I perfer candles and lanterns. Do you get my drift at all?

Living in the southern most state in our meandering country that is the United States of Disorder, its very difficult to feel the Christmas spirit. I have icicle lights on my house, but the temperature is 80 with 40% humidity...such an interesting situation to be sure. I've made a gingerbread house ((complete w/ kissing gummi bears and dolphins in a little river)) actually made from sugar cookie dough and hung stockings, put presents under the tree and made some ornaments. So what is missing from my Christmas experience, as it were? Maybe when we grow up, we lose this carefree ideal of what Christmas is. The whispers so that Santa will think you're asleep as you hear bumps and rustles from downstairs. A tear that slips from a hazel eye as she watches what she thinks is Rudolph's nose glide through the sky, a tiny hand pressed to an icy window.

Maybe what we're missing is the expectation for wonderful things to happen. When we were children we just knew that everything would be under the tree that we wanted in the morning. Now, as young adults and adults, we just pray that things might be fixed in the morning, fully knowing that bad things will always happen. But maybe for one night and one day we can push away the truth and realize that momentary happiness and joy is all we have.

...god rest ye merry gentlemen...
..
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India's Red Light

Although no one thinks of them, people around the world are stuggling. In India it couldnt get much worse, in fact...

In Calcutta, India holds one of it's largest Red Light Districts. Women sell their bodies and time in their one room hovels on dirty alleyways with just a thin curtain seperating them from their children. For the most part, these women have turned into bitter, broken and emotionless people, much less mothers. Some have husbands, some don't. But for the most part, all of these women have children. These helpless children suffer through poverty, neglect, disease & abuse.

Not many are aware of the global problems people face everyday. Film maker Zana Briski went about making the film "Born Into Brothels" with the intention of showing people a representaion of these womens's lives and trials, while at the same time trying to help their children. (You can find a link to its synopsis and airing schdule here.) During the course of the film, she starts a photgraphy class with a group of these children, hosts a benefit, gets them medically tested, gets them registered, puts them in boarding school and sends one child to Amsterdam for an International children's art conference.

My heart goes out to the individuals experiecing such atrocities in their lives. Their every day is a struggle and a heartbreak. I admire people like Zana who are willing to go out of their way and their comfort zone to try to make a dent in all the suffering in our world.

...you dont have to
turn on that red light...
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PETA - China's Cat and Dog Fur Trade

PETA is pretty extreme at times, but this time - im enraged.

Help them try to make a dent in this horrid interprise. it seems like one person cant do much with a petition, but thousands can.

Straight from furisdead.com>>>>

"Man's best friend" killed for fur? It's not just a bad dream. PETA recently conducted an undercover investigation into the Chinese dog and cat fur trade to show you what the industry is so desperate to hide. Even our veteran investigators were horrified at what they found: Millions of dogs and cats in China are being bludgeoned, hanged, bled to death, and strangled with wire nooses so that their fur can be turned into trim and trinkets. This fur is often deliberately mislabeled as fur from other species and is exported to countries throughout the world to be sold to unsuspecting customers in retail stores. China supplies more than half of the finished fur garments imported for sale in the United States, so the bottom line is that because dog and cat fur is so often mislabeled, if you're buying fur, there's no way to tell whose skin you're wearing.

PETA went into an animal market in Southern China and found cats and dogs languishing in tiny cages, visibly exhausted. Some had been on the road for days, transported in flimsy wire-mesh cages with no food or water. Twenty cats were forced into a single cage. Because of the cross-country transport in such deplorable conditions, our investigators saw dead cats on top of the cages, dying cats and dogs inside the cages, and dogs and cats with open wounds. Some animals were lethargic or frightened, and others were fighting with each other, driven insane from confinement and exposure.

Up to 8,000 animals are loaded onto each truck, with cages stacked on top of each other. Cages containing live animals are commonly tossed from the top of the trucks onto the ground 10 feet below, shattering the legs of the animals inside them. Many of the animals we saw still had collars on, a sign that they were once someone's beloved companions, stolen to be made into fur coats.

To watch this shocking and exposing investigation video,
please visit furisdead.com
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Corsetry

Corsetry is not only a centuries old waist binding technique - its now become a cult phenom.

Back in the day, women use to bind their torsos with metal, fabric and animal bone rods - commonly known as boning. They sculpted women into waspy little pixies, their forms contorted into their most womanly and beautiful. Unfortunatly, extreme corsetry had a price. The forcing of organs and tissues to contort and move sometimes proved to cause fainting, breathing difficulty, permanent bruising of skin and organs, black-outs & miscarriage. It also forces the spine to straighten and become a little more strong ((the effect is only lasting when the corset is taken off when corset use becomes daily, and with time)). Starting out in deep corsetry with an already straight and tall posture makes it a whole lot easier to makes the transition. Corsetry forms your body to a state where the spine will always be forced pin-straight. Though it seemed the physical penalty for the fashion was high, it didn't stop women from indulging in cinching their waistlines to the un-natural yet beautiful extreme. With a steel boned, triple stitched corset a woman could ((and still can)) take a natural waist of thirty inches, to one of only nineteen.

Today, however, some women still carry on this art-like tradition. It seems as if there has been a recent resurgence in the interest toward corsetry and the look to be had from it. Mock-corsets hang in shops and chain stores, and images of corsets adorn accessories from panties to purses. Corsets can be found in styles ranging from the type worn from many different centuries. From Medieval England, through the Victorian age of England, the 1600's and 1930's of France and all the way to more modern sihouettes of the modern day corset. Though it was once just used as an undergarment, it has now made its way to the surface. It has unwittingly become a beautiful and edgy, indispensible piece of fashion.

I myself indulge in this practice, and with great love and care. What is required to begin to use corsets safely is what is called waist-training. Beginning with softer, less enforced corsets, cinching only a few inches at a time and slowly adding over time. Once comfortable ((as comfortable as bodily pressure will ever get)) and your movements become smoother and easier to do while bound, you can progress to the pvc or steel boned corsets. Slim rods starting at first, followed by thicker and wider ones. As I explain it, it seems like a lot of time to invest, it can be done over a few weeks, depending on how easily one can adjust to the pain.

The pain eventually slips away, where comfort and spinal strength take over. Reports from womens dress makers from the 1600's concludes that some of the women experienced constant states of euphoria. I can only surmise that this was caused by the pinching of certain nerves of the spines or other bodily areas affected by the corsets constant press and prod.

For all the negatives that abound about corsets and their consequences, nothing is as beautiful or feminine in my eyes than a waspy waistline held by silky boned panels of silk.

"You leave me breathless,
You got me helpless,
You take my breath away."
-Queit Riot, 1983
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1,000 +

My little writer's soul is filled with jubilation; after only having a visit-counter for 2 months I've registered 1,108 hits. Yay!

When I started this blog ((nine months ago)) it was for want of an outlet, and I never thought of sharing it with anyone besides the odd passerby online. Its never quite truly been a blog; which are known for being virtual journals to many web-surfing people. Ive written articles, reviews, url linkings and the ever sparse life updates. This makes me want to wander about further online and read other's blogs. A friend of mine said he hated reading peoples blogs because "Why would I want to know about some random person's life?". And I agree. Knowing someones political, educational, emotional and day to day ramblings isnt very interesting to most, or is it?

I can understand people wanting to reach out to others and know them, especially in such a normally faceless link such as the internet. Apparently this doesnt apply to my blog, which isnt a blog. Well, whatever it is, people seem to dig it. And I dig them for diggin it. :)

"I wanna hold your hand..."

-The Beatles

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Poetry: Why

Poetry is an artform that goes back generations in our species' history...why?

A friend recently brought this question to my mind when he asked it of me. "I always see you jotting down words, why poetry?". Though I do write other things besides, I decided to answer it for not only his amusement, but my own.

Poetry for me is a way to nearly subconciously vent out emotion and turn it into something thats self-enlightening and beautiful. Taking deep or painful emotion and twisting it to something that can either inspire you and other people ((thats the goal anyway)). I write in a tatty looking black paper notebook that has undyed, slightly tan pages. I write nearly at a constant, if I were trapped on a dersert island, it would be one of the things I would want to have with me. As you may notice, I post them fairly regularly on this blog. This is not for want of showing off, but to include them in this assemblage of words, which seems a mirror to all of my thoughts.

A poem is simply this; a group of metered word produced by, and inducing emotion in both reader and author. The emotional imagery ((or any imagery for that matter)) flows onto the paper and something is made from whatever lies inside the authors mind and heart. When children are little, teachers make their students write poetry, haikus and various other word arrangements. This, in a teahcers eyes, enables creativity in the child which will always enlighten them to further themselves. When I was little and one of those ((cough:: slaves ::cough)) students, I remember telling my teacher, my age being ripe old six years old, that she was "forcing our creative hand". I have no clue why that seems relevant just now, with the exception that I still do feel that way.

An article from Answers.com states something I recognize with in a very lovely way;
"In most poetry, it is the cannotations and "baggage" that words carry ((the weight of words)) that are most important. These shades and nuances of meaning can be diffucult to interpret and can cause different readers to "hear" a particular piece of poetry diffrently. While there are reasonable interpretations, there can never be a definitive interpretation."

Emotion is just like words, flowing nonstop through your mind, as they do on the page. Notifying you of pains, needs & thoughts. Some choose to express emotion in different ways other than written word such as photographers and artists, photographers and songwriters. Every being is different as is each expression. Though as for me, I choose poetry.

"The greatest thing by far, is to be a master of metaphor."

-Aristotle, in his Poetics

Untitled -poem

Untitled -

Whisper allegories to my demure ears,
Press your palm to my heart,
To feel the silent smoulder beneath my flesh,
Try to wake me from the eternal cold,
Of a lonely, desolate purgatory,
Catch the flames from afar in your hand,
To warm me & my caged hope,
Paint visions of the future as murals in my eyes,
Scald my white & icy skin in search of the girl you love. /sept' 10, 2005

there is a time when a struggling heart
tries to find another,
but sometimes...
that other heart is evil.

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Kittens & Menage a Trois

At heart, humans are just lightly more civilized animals. Is there a correlation between animal relationships and reactions and our own?

Today i adopted another kitten ((dont worry, im too young and blonde to be that weird cat lady)) and since I already have another kitten, the ladies at the animal shelter told me to keep them apart for ten days so my kitten Roxie can become adjusted to having another animals smell in her house ((my house, but she is a cat)). But ever being an anarchist at heart, I didnt listen. When I got home from the shelter i put the new kitten Mimi in her carrier in my living room, let my kitten Roxie sniff her for a few minutes, I opened the top of the carrier to let Roxie see Mimi and the let her out. Nifty, huh? ((smile)) Yeah, I guess it wasnt such a great move, but I dont have the patience or time to wait out and do that waiting period-sniff-under-the-door crap. But in experiencing this I noticed something; my cat is acting like the girlfriend in a threesome tug of war.

When chicks arent too hip to the whole threesome-thing, as it were, theyre a little ((ehh?)) territorial. The Mimi((new kitten)) and Roxie were playing and chasing each other just fine after their first obligatory hiss and growl but then...((dramatic music)) it was time to bring the babies into my bedroom. I laid them both on my bed and Roxie started hissing, as if to say "This bitch is in my house, and now shes in my bed, with my mommy." So I decided to put Mimi into the other bedroom, just for a few nights, until Roxie stops having mommy-bed-anxiety.

Instinct; n
1. An inborn pattern of behavior that is characteristic of a species and is often a response to specific environmental stimuli.
2. A powerful motivation or impulse that reverts the brain to a more animal-like state.

It just screams "insecure girlfriend in an uncomfortable sexual situation" to me, but then again, i think in extremely Lateral patterns. When forced into any extreme situation, humans will always ((though mostly its subconsciously)) revert back to their more primal side. Instincts kick in and its a little hard to think like the girl who wears Gucci shoes and always dots her i's. If a non-liberal woman is thrust into a situation where it seems as if her love, relationship ((& mate)) are being threatened, she'll react the way shes been programmed to; adversely.

Now as much as the combination of the words "kittens" & "threesome" sound much more like a sexual innuendo than words that are being included in a possible scientific theory, im holding to this theory. This has sparked my interest to delve futher to the animal mind of the human. Now if only I could test it...

shes got
cat-scratch fever...
meow-weow
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Phrenology Quackery

Back when the world was a tad younger, a head could be read ((or its bumps, more specifically)) in order to find a person's character and mental capacity...

Around 1800 the German scientist Franz Joseph Gall ((quite the...suggestive painting, do you not agree?)) paved the way for a mental defining science he dubbed "Phrenology". Basically, a person's bumpy little skull was felt, and depending on the size and shape of protuberences therein you could be appraised for mental capacity, mental stability, nobility, character and creativity. Since then, Phrenology has been refuted as not having credible foundations, nor the research or scientific backup to prove its factuality.

However, I do think this topic deserves a bit of a whirl. If indeed a persons skull could be read to figure out how the brain beneath reacted, wouldnt it be lovely? This also goes along with English forensic scientists theory that criminals could be put into profiles based on physical appearance. If a man had a more animalistic or "apelike" appearance, he was dead panned as a criminal or as being socially unacceptable. Since then, that theory too has been dispelled as false. So can we, or the scientific minds of the present and future ever fit behavior to physical form?

The griding of Phrenology has seven basic groupings; animalistic, moral, perceptives, domestic, aspiring, refelctives and perfecting. In these groupings were other sub-groups, all defining different human characteristics, emotions, abilities and thoughts. I do not think that Mr. Gall had successfully mapped this out from the start. Where are the corresponding lobes of the brain? Perhaps it might have been a good first step to align said groupings with the lobes of the brain and the mental pathways they controlled before delving to classify parts of the skull as they stand alone.

Later in that decade, Phrenology tried to make run at America, helped along by Orson Fowler and Lorenzo Fowler when aspiring after Gall, they published the Phrenological Almanac. Many followed this belief and practice at that time, following into the 1940's, including doctors and other scientists. That is until modern day science smacked it's bill of scientific "No Good" straight onto it.

Considering this was 1800 and such scientists were merely slightly more educated doctors ((which was still pushing it, knowledge wise)) how could they have developed something so seemingly complicated with such limited resources? Since that time, other doctors, research scientists and psychiatrists have taken a hand in either debunking or trying to prove the worth of Phrenology, all came up unfounded. Such sciences can be seen as unneccesary, though keys to the personal internal workings of the brain might be seen as psychology milestones. But however intelligent and driven scientists may have been or become, not even a genius can will things to be the way they were not created.

"what?
i dont have a big enough
bump in my 'intelligence' area?
well go get a hammer,
damn it..."
.
.

Apocalypse Now?

Critics of the Bible and Bible Thumpers alike are saying that both the Tsunami and the recent many life shattering Hurricane Katrina are the first steps of the apocalypse....

Ive been thinking, as most living creatures are wont to do, that I really dont feel like dying. Nor do i feel like centering on death as a negative thing, though i do love a bit of forensic research. People like to talk about "The Apocalpyse", and that we hapless humans have pulled it into being with our sinful lives.

The Book of Revelation in the Bible declares;((Let me just say before quoting ancient words, that I am not mocking, just simply delving on to find understanding.))
"Behold, I am making all things new...I will give freely to him who is thirsty from the spring of the water of life 21:6. He who overcomes, I will give him these things. I will be his God, and he will be my son 21:8. But for the cowardly, unbelieving, sinners, abominable, murderes, sexually immoral, sorcerers, idolators and all liars, their part is in the lake that burns with fire and sulfur, whish is the second death... Fear the Lord, and give him glory, for the hour of his judgement has come..." So in retrospect to reading these words i am to assume, anyone not believing in God shall have theirs souls stricken from existence ((the second death)) when he basically cleans the world of all the immoral.

I think like most reasonable scientific minds do, Im not one to follow the Bible as if it were my end all and beat all Guide to Life. If the Apocalypse is coming, it has do with the eventual break down of all that is material, just reasonable decay.

However, i do not believe the Apocalypse is hovering over our "sinful" heads. Natural disasters occur, and have occured in the past, and we are still breathing and living on our little floating Earth-Cake in the stars. Other noted times where the people cried Apocalypse were El Nino, The Black Plaque, AIDS Outbreak in the 80's & 9-11, not to mention further that there have been more incidents than these alone. When you search "Apocalypse" on Google, you receive 4,670,000 results ((add 1 more shortly after i click "Publish")). These results all too fully prove that this notion is quite deeply rooted in our world's thoughts.

I pray that all too soon people will come to the knowledge that though terrible things do happen in the course of time, life will continue to go on. Now if only I could smack it into the heads of those Born Again Christians.....

"He who desires,
take the water of life freely..."
.
.

The Rambling -poetry

The Rambling

Cry to the rambling of life,
Hold near the possibilities of the soul,
Overcome + walk on,
An untouched girl?
Wake to tears of angels,
Rain pounding the spirit,
Numb dolls kick at the world,
While creation sighs,
And threatens to snap,
Golden threads in fate's glistening web,
A snip away from darkness,
Weep to me of your soul,
So far from grace + yet startling pure,
So quick your moments of clarity,
Rambling birth to rambling sky,
All back again and just in time. aug 25, 2005

and now we see the end
of the beginning...
.
.

Monuments + Melodies

I miss my best friend Bitty, this is the song she chose to be ours.

Monuments + Melodies by Incubus

my hands are trembling
and my eyes are on fire
this house is crumbling
left brain, left out, on the wire

you make me happy
you magnify my better half
you make me certain
though all i have today is your photograph

my past is perilous
but each scar i bear sings
monuments to where i have been
and melodies to where i am going

you make me happy
you magnify my better half
you make me certain
though all i have today is your photograph
when will i see you again?

still life can only go so far
i need you in front of me
saying my name
saying to me, saying to me, saying to me i
want you the way you are.

love is never transient from you...

in wanders ever near

to your heart,

as you ramble through the world.

.

.

Gentile Demons - poem

Gentile Demons

Bruding alibis in the night,
To complete the circle,
Ive been away with demons,
By the light of the moon,
As long as you dont know,
All the world is safe,
Ive abandoned all reason to banish the boredom,
If it wasnt this it would be another,
Is it naivete or do i just not care,
The harming ones that hold me in their arms,
That see me in such perfection + beauty,
Ive been taken my demons,
Night after night,
Hungry lips on my body,
Needing me,
As I feel the numbness creeping. 3 aug-05

spoken word
shows my cracks to all the world....
.
.

Lusty B♥tch

At a party last night i get tapped on the shoulder and was given this string of words;

"You are one lusty bitch, lift it and kick it."
This bloke happened to dig me, it seemed, and asked me to"lift it and kick it" meaning what i can only decipher as "get away from your friends and well go find somewhere comfy where i can take off your clothes and ravish you." i smiled and did that thing where military people salute each other, but with 2 fingers, all lady-like i can tell you.

i kind of looked away from him and re-joined the conversation he had pulled me from. he kind of tapped me again, but this time on my silk covered tummy...the bloke meant business. i turned to him again and he put his hand on my wrist, kind of pulling at me. i took my hand away and leaned to speak into his ear, but instead he caught my lips and put a hand on the back of my neck. well now, i thought to myself, this lad really wants to "kick it". i pulled my lips away from his and said into his ear ((this time successful)), "why did you just think you could do that mate?" he smiled and said "Youre a chick fit for kissing." Well, these cali boys do seem to know their words to say to loosen the panties.

so i kind of laughed and patted his chest, he grabbed my hand and pulled me to him, putting his other free hand low on my back. no doubt he intended to continue said kissing activity, but i pressed my hand hard against him that was still against his chest. i looked at my friend Dillon as soon as i realized i wasnt going to get the "kick it" boy off of me. The boy realized this also and backed down when Dillon looked at him. He smiled hopefully when he regained a position with his hands a lot farther from my ass.

i saw him a bit later ((having ignored him shortly after the grabbing debaucle)) drunk as a pink bunny on Easter, falling over a chair and landing on the floor, with no grace or beauty what so ever. i found out later in the night that he was an Abercrombie & Fitch model, his face probably plastered all over America, poster boy for the American Dream. of course as you can imagine i got quite the giggle out of it. havnt you?

i just think youre great...

we can f*ck now,

right?

.

.

The Lady Is A Vamp

There have been women in history ((and maybe just around the corner)) who have turned up the temperature and let us all know what sexy is...

May I provide the definition:

vamp -
noun
A usually unscrupulous woman who seduces or exploits men: enchantress, femme fatale, seductress, siren, temptress.
A woman who is given to flirting: coquette, flirt.

So literally, all Ive ever aspired to be. Not that its quite diffcult, a typical vamp profile would include, long flowing hair, deep + mysterious eyes, crazy swing lovely hips, ruby red lips & the mind of a killer with the tact + persuasion of a priest and the vocabulary of a first class courtesan.

Sexappeal isnt just about looking the part, the attitude is all the act, that lust is always on the tip of your tongue, that youre holding the keys and have already let them in. Women are the deepest power in the world ((not meaning men are not equal)), they bridle their intelligence and their beauty to make themselves something to prove their lives by. A little grin, arched eyebrow, flip of the hair and it lets you know they understand their power.

Ive always understood the appeal of a gorgeous woman and ive tried to grow up to be a fitful lady of the world. When we played with our Barbies, and combed their hair and out them in cocktail dresses and made our Ken give them a kiss and a look, we understood sex appeal; mysterious beauty enraptures the world.


pass the glass by her,
you know thats what you want,
give some attention,
a smile down the bar,
run your hand through your hair,
as you stare at beauty,
the femme fatale completed,
more than just a diamond in the rough,
the curve of the lass,
thats just taken your breath away,
and what do you do love?

"Dont you want to play Nicolas?

I wont bite you...

unless you want me to..."

-film, Femme Fatale (2003)

We Dont Like You...

George Bush has gotten some bad press in the past, VERY BAD, and with good reason. CNN conducted a poll...check it out.

"Americans' approval of President Bush's handling of Iraq is at its lowest level yet, according to an AP-Ipsos poll that also suggests fewer than half now think he is honest. "

Ok, but not that im a bitch, and i know that Bush won a second term, but hes obviously an arrogant one way minded man led on by his father and his puppeteer, Cheney. Somehow i dont understand how so many people can be going back on what they had first decided, you wanted him president, now look what happens. Having an ex-boyfriend, who im still very close with who is a marine and deployed to Okinawa right now, i have a freak out point when i hear things on the news. Bush has told a group in Texas that they need to "make it clear that Iraq is a part of this war on terror, and we're at war." So basically he thinsk were all idiots, do we need another speech about your war on terror, why dont you give us some results and stop killing our boys.

I do believe there are reasons for this war though, but not quite thought through ones. Yes, we needed to help the Iraqi people to get out from underneath Saddam's reign. However, have we brought more negative vibes to ourselves? I know its not our decision and by our i mean you and i and your auntie, the people. Were little bunnies in the cage guarded(?) by a man who cant spell refrigerator.

"Iraq is just a great weight holding

down perceptions of an

economy that is quite robust."

.

.

Sample My Goods

My hist-fiction vamp novel is well on its way, dont you want a bite?

Since, my dears, you are obviously not reading enough ((haha)), im going to put a section of my in-progress novel ((which, yes, has a link in my profile)). Im throwing down the first few paragraphs of it to give you a little hint of my other ventures beside this site. i think youll like it.

After coming across the windblown street she saw the old townhouse eclipsed in the velvety darkness. The street lamps shone their avarice in the night against her pale skin...a reminder of the sun that was no more in her world. Her hard, white hand gripped the train of her soft red, silk gown as the breeze crashed cruely against her. Although she felt no discomfort in the cold, a fur lined capelet and muffler adorned her gleaming body.

It was hard to think about the task ahead, though she had gone through this type of scheduled agenda before without a twinge in her morality affecting her. It was this house, this street, this type of night that got to her this time. She dropped her skirt to pull a small leather pouch out of her muffler. Using the thin metal rods duely, she finally heard the metallic click and the door opened to her. With little effort she put away her tools and stepped calmly into the foyer and tapped the door shut. Her skirts rustled sedatly as she climbed the dark staircase, her nocturnal eyes seeing more clearly than in the light. When she reached the door she took a slient breathe before silently slipping in among it's living occupant.

She released the pin from her hat and set it on the dressing table along with her muffler. She stared at these items and dropped her gaze to the breathing lform that lay upon the bed in slumber. Never to awake, how familiar, she thought. She sighed sweetly as she lowered herself onto the bed's edge and placed a white hand on this living thing. How it pulses even as it is lost to consciousness. She slowly pulled back the counterpane and sheet to reveal the sleeping face of a beautiful woman. So you have been accused of infidelity, how to you plea? No response, as was expected. Well if there is no denial, then there is guilt. She let go of a breath as she lowered her face to the woman's and planted a soft kiss upon her brow before sinking her dagger-like teeth into her warm neck. She drew upon her softly to hear a slight sleepy moan escape from the condemned. How beautiful a flower to wrench from the garden, but things are as they will be. She tasted her victims very soul in every pulse of blood that flowed to her red mouth, the candy of life. She sat back as the blood settled into her being. Staring at the even now cooling and lifeless body. Life was a precarious thing, but ever much so if one's husband has contracted a killer that leaves no evidence of murder.

As she left the townhome she had been raised in, a hundred years seemed as if they had never really passed. And as for the deed she had just played out, the guilt would have to be left for someone who cared and still knew how to lament. And so this is how I introduce you to Clarity Martyrelle, a creature on the edge of life and death...but the bringer of only one.

bonjour fille,

tu devoir sentir peur mortelle

.

.

Suspend Reality

Not surprisingly, your earnest and flippant author is quite interested and involved in body modification and other pain/mod experiences. Body suspension is one such interest of mine...

the human body has a full system devoted just to pain and feeling it, dealing with it, and it runs through other systems as well. Some people push their bodies with pain as a part of their lives. They can include serial tattoo enthusiasts, peircing enthusiasts, extreme body modists((tongue splitting, scarification, saline injection and inflation, implants)). Somethingi have learned about lately ((few years ago)) is hook suspension, also known as peirce suspension and body suspension. It involves piercing the skin deeply with hooks well over((double even)) zero gauge and having the weight of the body supported by several of these hooks, and held by rope, even sometimes moving in circular patterns and swinging.

Pain can transcend someones conscious reality, including emotional ailment. some people use this experience as a sort of "coming of age" type ritual, prove to themselves they can take extreme pain therefore proving that they can tale on the responsibility of life and its various pains. All very symbolic business going on. having had piercings done on myself, many times, i know this kind of release as something positive and calming. while some people are shocked that a human being would choose to subject themselves to what would seem to be the thing we should avoid, mind bending physical pain, i encourage new ways of feeling emotions and physical responses in myself and other people.

Biology lesson; When the nerves in the body are given too much to deal with at one time, the body goes into deep shock((this happens everytime the body is injured, though the smaller the injury, the smaller the period of shock. which can make it hard to notice if its a split second)). When the body is in a shocked state, the mind works in kind of a safe mode, gently meandering through emotions and actualy physical feelings, until it can work out the pain and send it to the brain to work out. people during and after suspension have noted that you feel away from your body,out of touch and calmly, yet brightly centered.

masochism is another thing to touch on quickly, the reversal of the toles of pleasure signals to the brain and negative, painful signs to the body. it provides in the affected a sort of altered life reality from others, pain is positive and pleasure is middle ground. adding extreme pain to a masochist can result in different reaction and emotion than any average human. it can be spiritual, serene and may even give them the feeling of normalcy, which they lack in everyday meanderings.

now being a pocket dictionary on alt things and tendencies, i can see myself doing this one day. when i have decided that my body is completly only temporary and only useful when it is used. we hold onto our inhibitions and file down prgrammed paths; pain, bad. pleasure, good. cant both be good and uplifting?

babies found her
red devil.
oh how that needle shines.
.
.

Flawless Machine Grace

Hippies and kittens both have it down: chilling out and slowing it down. Are we going to fast to remember were alive?

i was reading an article((as if id do anything but)) on how modern americans are trying to optimize their days and make things go quicker and smoother, more stream lined and speedy. now as much as id like to insert a little sickened facial expression here, ill restrain myself. but i do think this is not the best plan. i dont want to "optimize" my life, i want to make it lovely, sexy, smart, relaxing and memorable. not "stream lined and speedy". heres a shadowgirls life: Optimized for the new Millenium; boring wtf. i dont even need to write it out, you know the ridiculousness.

i think people confuse happiness with effeciency. i mean yeah i understand most kinds of businesses require you to be efficent and kind of push the humanity of their employees to a lower level in order for their jobs to function with flawless machine grace. but there lies the loss of life: flawless machine grace. do we want to make our lives about being some kind of together and organized filing robot or about being a living breathing and smiling human being?

machines dont have awesome sex, they dont read mind expanding books, they dont feel the weight of life upon their shoulders. i mean if you think about it we medicate our race to be calmer, more centered, and artificially happy versus being their little blippy, anxious, maybe disjointed selves. have we been letting our lives pass us? have we been feeling everything that has been given to us or are we just pushing back our minds in order to reach pefection? where is your life?

id like to think that being in touch with yourself would prevent this from happening, feeling yourself and knowing when you need to take a glance around and recenter. people refer to listening to music in dpeth and centered as vibing. sitting with just yourself and the feel of the music, feeling the rhytmn and becoming quiet inside as they feel the sound of the music. Can you vibe in your life? if not, i think its time you flicked on some music.

where is the lack of humanity,
where is the icy chill?

its coming from the city.
.
.

Famous...kinda

You know when you have people telling you they rely on your writing daily, youre famous in that internet kind of way.

do you like the new name? i thought it was better than what i had previously "Away in the dark..." im still there, but with a new attitude.

i have a new counter, it refreshes daily, i have all the stats at my fingertips. ive been getting such wickely sweet comments and emails from people giving my site and i much love and adoration.
i really thank you guys for that. if only i ad better publicity. but! i do have an update! if you search "shadowgirl" in google, im the 4th result! yay, so happy. not that being known matters, obscurity is lovely too. so i have an obscure fame, im joyous i tell you.

im going to be featured soon by a gent with a largely visited website, cant wait. when i started this blog, it was to kind of be an outlet, since i hate writing with a pen, typing is so fluid for me. so i started to expand on the internet on the subjects in my little overfilled mind. i guess not only i dig it, but so do you.

watch me as i gravitate,
dont stop get it
hit it
.
.

Perversion Repression

How far is too far for you?

Perversion ((if youll allow me to give you the exact dictionary meaning)) means;

per-ver-sion;
1. A sexual practice or act considered to be abnormal or deviant.

Were not talking just a friday night required screw between you and a significant other. We're talking raunchy, deep down in your subconscious all out sex. Now, Im by no way saying that ALL people have something perverted they call sexy. I have however, read an article lately by a psychiatrist with a degree in sexual orientation, by the name of Dr. Katarina Leonard. She says ((and i quote)) "Every subconscious has some sort of sexual disfunction or perversion. Disfunction in the way that a singular sexual impulse is not considered 'natural' or something that is commonly done and accepted. Perversion could be anything from wanting to touch and look at someones toes to wanting to be tied up and whipped, and anything in between and above."

So do we all hear that class? All of us have our little odd bits, and so many dont embrace them. But that is another article, from another day. See "Darkness" if you care to dare. But, to go on, Have we all given ourselves permission to do just what is "normal and something that is commonly done and accepted"? When you think of one of your most hidden fantasies, does it make you bite your lip or kind of push it down in fear? Sexual repression is also a common thing among us little humans, it happens when something traumatic has happened in our lives or when we have been strictly guided in a certain direction.

I do not see anything wrong with the words "sexual perversion" they may even light a little fire in my brain. But to you is that healthy or unhealthy. Many health and psychiatry specialist think the way I do, healthy sexual fetish should be followed and explored. Its healing to your mind and soul to be yourself and I think sex, and deepest fantasies are yourself in one of its truest forms.

Love and sex for some people are inextricably linked, which would make it hard for them to indulge in anything they thought was dirty or bad, thinking it would sully the love and care in a relationship and turn it to just raunchy sex. This isnt true, in many cases deep sexual connections mean as much and add as much to relationships as deep love and devotion.

To stray from relationships ((scream)), perversions though they may be, theyre still inside of you and me, and if you wanna live life right, be careful baby, but take a bite.

"come on baby and light my fire, ooh!"

.
.

Abstinence

Is abstinence from sex + alcohol the best thing to preach to students, and the world?

Youve seen them on tv, the commercials for abstinence, the programs about teen pregnancy and the NBC specials in which teenagers talk about how alcohol went wrong in their lives. theyve always said, "if you dont want to get pregnant, dont have sex". Somehow it think their slogan has turned to a bitter form of reverse psychology. Numbers are up for both teen pregnancy and accidents and fatalities directly associated with alcohol. Maybe they should loosen the leash.

My mother always told me to think smart and make my own decisions, meet the right kind of people and be happy. I followed her instuctions ((mostly, no ones perfect)), and things have mostly turned out alright for me. I havnt died from anything alcohol related ((as far as i know anyway)) and ive never had a baby. so maybe i havnt done so badly, but then again i always had a friend and confidant in my mom, does that help too?

Could it be that resctrictions on behavior will make that restricted person want to delve into what theyve been told not to? I have copious amounts of proof on this subject, starting with friends i had growing up. One friend of mine was raised by church extremists, she lost her virginity at 12, started going to parties late into the night and ended up pregnant 3 times before she even turned 17. Another example, a very dear friend of mine was raised by two loving and wonderful parents, rich and spoiling. They divorced and thats when the problems started, alcohol, drugs and guys. Shes told me before "If my father thought i was doing such bad things + i was getting punished for doing nothing, why not just do what he thought i was doing."

Maybe having lax parents with open minds makes you want to be just yourself instead of trying to make life exciting in the suburbs. Not being too far out of the suburb living era in my life, i can fully understand these little strong willed rule breakers doing what they can to have fun. Im certainly not the one to be preaching perfection, Ive been to parties and drank god knows how much alcohol, but i find it fascinating that so much of our country are worrying solely that little Jenny is going to drink some Jager and get pregnant with Little Billy's baby. Maybe if America's parents werent expecting the worst from their kids, maybe they wouldnt get the worst in return.

and through the night,
the little children run
...away from logic.
.
.

Love

"Love is not something that happens, its something you do." So is it true?

Ive always thought that just letting relationships happen instead of like looking and fighting for them is the best possible way for it to be destined and true. Versus having it be about desperate and lonely and seeking out someone. Like letting love tumble into your lap instead of running after it. Wouldnt that seem like one of the better things to do? In my opinion, love can't be forced, it cant be bought or sold, its natural and free. When it leaves, theres a little hollow where it lived and nothing is there to fill its shoes...not until it comes back home.

People will give you advice on your relationships, but wouldnt it seem like things would go better if it became something soft and sheltering versus something you worry about? Relationships are already hard enough without having to complicate it by listening to people to worry if certain signs are showing. Im a "live and let live" sort of girl, mostly easy going and open. So i try not to concern myself with trying to worry about too many things. But doesnt it seem as if love and relationships have a way of creeping worry into your mind? You dont want to lose what you have, or make it change, so you worry and try to be better for whoever youre with. I choose to be myself, thats who they fell in love with to begin with, right?

Hippies in the sixties had it right, but not including the drugs. They loved and kept life simple and free. So in a world of over-complicated everything, can we fit in free love too? I think so, and I think its worth a try.

sing a song thats filled
with love, and dont let it end,
for i wont find it again...
.
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Music as Liquid Emotion

I love making up new words. But you know what I love more? Music:

Two question you might be asking yourself;
First question: Is she being lazy in posting just lyrics? And the answer is...No, these lyrics are my liquid emotion for today, a lot is on my mind and therefore, I am vegging out with the sweet sound of music. Second question: Has she gone country? Fuck no. That is all. ((insert witty smile here))

Is everthing a bated hook?/
And are there locks on all doors?/
If youre looking for an open book/
Look no further, I am yours./
-Incubus, Southern Girl

Well, you shouldve heard the way/
Ive been talking to myself/
Treating her like common trash/
On the side of the road./
-Mindy Smith, Hard To Know

When the sun comes down/
Will the rain wash away/
All the hopes and dreams/
Into another day, another day?/
As the light pours in/
Feel the volume of the sky/
Mark your place in time/
With another question why/
-Lost Prophets, Sway

Something in your eyes/
Is saying you can ease my heartache/
I have a burden inside/
And I know youre just a stranger/
If you cant, I'll understand/
-Mindy Smith, Down In Flames

In this busy world;
one girl sits and listens.
.
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Little Girl Lost + other Poetry

So again I must post poetry, Why? Because I love you, thats why. I know, its shocking but i had to let it out. ((giggling in the corner)) In actuality, these poem-ish things are very dear to me and bring up a lot of emotion, but thats what theyre suppose to do, right?

Little Girl Lost-

tries to make a life for herself,
roaming from bed to bed,
trying to find some kindling flame,
always she finds only ash,
day dreamer with sparkling eyes,
though now that glisten is lost...
+ she has nowhere to go.
((mused by a sketch i drew. Hey, I wonder who this is about?))

_untitled_

i hope for my heart to stop,
if it ever forgets to love,

or the whips of others,
make me not bleed,

where my tears are not shed,
that is no place for me,

i have the broken and teary eyed soul of a lover,

so hold my soul in the palm of your hand,
if you drop me,
we all fall down.

_untitled_

patterned day,
patterned night,
so ravishing a layer,
prim and just picked,
to last for an hour,

sick remedy,
so vile a heart,
love fallen from day,
to so sudden dark.

"sing me something
soft, sad and beautiful."
-existentialism on prom night
.
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The Thought Provoking Kind of Girl

Though im possibly not your mama's dream girl, they sure do love me and reading my material. So who am I? What my deal? What the hell is this blog? Im answering you...

Ive received emails and comments lately asking me questions as to my opinions on the articles i write, since most of the time i keep myself on a level playing field as far as my stark opinions. I write articles that are thought provking, or least i hope they are. I write about the nearly taboo, i write about politics and love. Though im mostly conservative as far as monatary and governmental issues go, im quite the liberal little doll. Im pro happiness, im pro sex, im pro gay and pro abortion. I want to write things that manage in at least the tiniest way to make you think what you hadnt before.

"Whats a girl to do when she wants to be a saint and still drink liquer?" _me
Its the ideal that people that make things better, at least in the ways that they can. I want people to be intelligent, caring and happy individual. And hey, it may be a stretch, but id Love to change at least a few people. And if not change them, then enlighten and entertain. Life is worth an analization and a laugh, so why not read my blog articles and do just that?

In a world where guns rule,
a girl anachronism wants
to kiss the population.
.
.

Evolution?

Has our civilization's inhabitants evolved? Or just our goals and technology?

I was thinking this afternoon as my brow was thick with a hangover((Rum)) about evolution and maturity of our race. I dont mean on a molecular level strictly, but rather the growing and expanding of our minds and self value. As far as gentlemanly courtesy goes, the Victorians had it in the bag. If anything our manners have de-evolved to the point where its nearly semi-acceptable for a guy to scream to a girl at the beach((ie-me yesterday)) things like "hey hot mama, shake it!".

If anything i think our technology and monatary goals have gone beyond social decorum and put it on the back burner. You can always hear people saying "Chivalry is dead." Is that because theres no place for it in a world where people are allowed and pressured to speak their minds? I think theres always a time and place for people to become more animalistic and let themselves out of a tight wound ball of manners and respectability, but have we dropped our defenses way too much?

I like to imagine the world in different phases, and being a complete girl anachronism I like past-tense places in history. Men would tip their hats to ladies in gloves and millions of pounds of corsetry and panties. But in our time a guy noticing a girl walking down the road would be more like a cattle call, with free liquer. In no way am i completly putting down the chaps of this new millenium but have we really become such a wonderous race that we worship muscled and greasy guys in suede chaps versus ad psychology professor who is researching the meaning to life?

"leave me here in
my stark raving sick sad little world"
-incubus, sick sad little world
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Desire....

how many times during the day do you think of the things you want, the people you want, the places you want to visit? have you ever thought of actually realizing these dreams and needs?

so many people in our world restrain themselves from what they know would make them happy. as im writing to you lying in my literal death bed, sick with a flu from hell, im just thinking oif the things ive wanted in the past but never went through with because of fear or just preconceived notions. you could put together a list of your desires, would it scare you? i know mine wouldnt, at least not anymore, they wouldnt surprise me actually. ive come to terms with all of my little darknesses.

i can think of sitting in a room and having the most wicked of my fantasies fullfilled, as i lay here i do fear it really. but how can i let this one life disappear unlived and unadventured. i want to lay in my "real" death bed and know that i used my life in the fullest way possible. i want memories that will make me blush and smile, and make that little happy noise in my throat. already my crazy memories ((not quite few in number)) sustain me during times of not-so-fun. i can think back on my decisions some were a little scewed, but im alive and sane and better for all my fun.

now im not talking about it being ok for you to go and murder someone because its your deepest longing. but your 'mostly sane' only self injuring plans would seem to be a good plan of action. ive gotten numerous peircings and i am happy with every single experience, even if i have taken some of them out, some were only temporary anyway.

im sort of the "sane insane" girl, tattoos, peircings, suspensions and maybe even indulgent physical bouts with people of the opposite sex, and occasionally the same sex. so id like to go ito a psychologist ((where i am not an uncommon visitor)) and go through a list of things he or she would consider pushing the limits on as far as sanity and appropriate conduct. id like to do it with multiple doctors really to get more of a sampling of information. can you imagine that?

so whose to say that one draw of desire is wrong and another is right? we wont know and you know why? humans are seperate and calculating mammals, calculating mammals that can feel what they want, and not just instinctually. mammals that seek out their desires.

running on the edge of morality?
that seems ok to me, and even memory making.
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Wandering Hearts

sometimes dont you think about how easy ife would be if you didnt have to search for the perfect love? but what if it was right under your nose, if only you could give it a try?

i think that not everything has to be complicated, but some things already are, for instance;
-love
-money
-life in general

if you believe youve found that person you should be with, then tell them so and try for that love.

small post : big meaning
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Back in the Virtual World

hey loves - my laptop has been at hospital for the past 3 weeks...but im back, yay. lol

after replacing the harddrive and trying ((key word is try)) to gthost information, no information was found and so ive started witha totally new system. but its ok, i can salvage pictures from my various sites ans of course from friends. but hey - break downs have to hapen every once in a while right? machines and humans alike.

wow - from here things look so new and shiny
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Poetry...First in a Long Time

for some reason i decided not the go to sleep when i felt that firts touch of tired that calls me to go lay down in my bed with my purring little kitten.

i decided to tie my hair up and lie on my side, like in my sadder days, though pen something different. i had thoughts of my lovely litanies of dusty floors and my eternal wandering girl, the girl who keeps killing herself but keeps being reborn with her memories and still coming back to face her wandering alone and with her pain. that "series" of my poetry i think is done. so i lie down and i began penning and first it was semi sad, and thenit became something new and light. so here is Cami, but Cami in a way Ive never seen, but i realize now...and im happy. but thats the realization...im happy. big step for cami, giant leap for my life.


...and so it has turned.

this is page as freah and new
as blod and quiet
as temperate and hot
ones flaming heart
clipped silently devastated
still page is freah and new
still world turns and there is light
happy is there
as sad as is in a box
though sunlight lift
the moon is there such sheltering dark
as to cover over
and free...though...
the one i know
not only dakr though shelter
but good and a sweet and a a loved and a...
worthy
ambitious i know, has the one
and light unseen has just begun
for now not tearing, weeping and blood
but future and happy and worthy and love. /5-9-05
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though yes it hides.

i try to turn it to darl passion
but only a creeping light comes through
where is the deep pantomime if dark?
where is that tortured art?
down down i fear
down down and hiding
hiding forever?
hiding because...
does it sense some promise
or maybe that i can
though not from gothic view
to sit alone and pine
create that grey facade
does it know know that i know
there is more
more than deep, more than night
is it now somewhere away?
waiting for another turn?
there is something in me larger than it
yes, it knows
so it hides and bides its time
though...i cant help but think
its end is nigh. /5-10-05

so now the pen isnt covered in blood and tears...

its peaceful...

as is the hand that holds it

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Mon Petite Belle Chat ♥

my baby kitten - Roxie Hart ((Chicago the play)) 7 weeks old, awe. i love her, shes wicked.

Dreams of Pain + of Fear

a lot of people suffer from nightmares and waking dreams, being one of them myself, i thought i would share my unconscious revelries w/ you...

it all started with some harmless dreams of walking up a dusty and dry barren path line with death black trees and into an old white roman-ish mansion. then it began to be that i would walk into the mansion and then the wall would seal behind me and bercome a fireplace. as the weeks stretched on and i began to look around after i would go into the house, guided as if pushed into it, i found that all the wall were fireplaces like 100s stacked on top of each other and covering the walls. the room was so tall and vast that when you looked up, they only would disolve into shadow and i knew that they continued up forever. the ground was covered in silty water and dead leaves and i would always be wearing a long and gauzy white dress with my hair as long asit use to be, past my behind. after a while i wouldstart finding letters and paintings left for me on a mantle or leaned against one of the fireplaces that werent lit. they would be smudged with black soot and finger prints and written in sloopy red cursive, saying things like "i cant wait to visit you and the girls at the mental hospital". thats one ill never forget, and it still makes me cry to this day ((yes im tearing up)).

after about 3 or 4 months of this, i began realizing i was hearing ruffling as of wings above me up high in the darkness. i began hearing a voice in my head, talking to me, telling me how beautiful i looked each night, which was actually day in this world. he would also tease and sometimes be mocking. then he would also be cocky and sometimes cruel, asking me why i was crying after he would sat something that would make me do just that. after a while it was mainly just abusive from him, his voice in my head and me screaming my replies at him from so far below. i would sit on the floor with my knees drown up and lay my face upon them, crying and letting my hair fall around me and drop on the floor, wet and muddy.

one day((night)) he came down a little way, more into the light and i saw that he was this huge gargoyle looking thing, he looked as though he was made of lava rock , that kind of texture and color. he was bald with an almost human face, and huge wings like a gargoyle. he was stooped over, as if balancing the weight oif his wings as he squated, looking down on me. he would never speak, as words anyway. ut always this telepathic voice in my mind, where i would always just use my mouth. one time i do remeber i tried to use my ming to speak to him and laughed and laughed at me.

terrible dreams have always plagued me but in the past 3 years i would say, i have about 6 or 7 a week. sometimes 5 in one night. i shake my self awake and have to go throw up, its not as bad as it once was, but its still intolerable. i have dreams my fingers are on fire and the flames move slowly up my arm and burn out my eyes. its not fun to always wake up in the morning or middle of the night, crying with a severe need to vomit.
ive talked to people, even professionals, about it and theyve always said i let all my anxieties get a hold of me as i sleep since im a surpresser ((i keep all my negative emotions inside and imm the strong one for everyone who needs me)) i know that i may be hurting my self, but how can i make it stop? but heres another question, in a wierd way, would it make me a different person, would it take my tortured need to create art and written word? and if so, would i really want to make it go away?

ahh...

the beautiful pain of artistic

torture and deviance

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