Once

October 2004

I'll stare at the black lotus knowing my time
has come to a point of which I have no control
My soul cries for something I cannot explain
yearning for comfort I'll take to the grave
Moonlight betraying what I am inside
I can't explain why I am
I pray to the darkness for some sign of light
Fighting the memories I keep locked away
I can't seem to escape the past stains on my heart
Tears always flowing for the love I might have lost

A thousand deaths I still remember
Maybe I'm only dreaming
cloistered in childlike innocence and naivety I wither away
Wanting something I never thought I had
I remember
I remember
Maybe I don't want to anymore

I'll stare at fate and distant premonitions
have come to pass in predictable patterns
My soul lingers behind for some unknown reason
and I find myself burdened by unknown regrets
I know love like no one has known love before
and I am bound to it always
I pray to the light for and end to my darkness
Living in a live I could never forsake
Once upon a time I thought I had forgotten
Tears always flowing for the love I might use

A thousand deaths I still remember
Maybe I'm only dreaming
cloistered in childlike innocence and naivety I wither away
Wanting something I never thought I had
I remember
I remember
Maybe I don't want to anymore

Simple Times

I still feel this way. Circa 2006.

Simple times...
An easy paradigm to fall back upon
Things were better back then
Back when?
In an age of girls getting married at twelve?
People cannot understand how their daughters live
getting pregnant when they are only children
But something different was expected
In simple times
Society didn't support anyone
It didn't even support itself
The rich men fell and the poor lost hope
In simple times
Stealing for your life
And not for your lifestyle
Paying for the mistakes
Instead of getting paid for them
I wonder if anyone I know would make it
In simple times

Old Roleplaying Forum Fodder

An old bit of role playing back story (2006-ish) I should develop this character more...

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Windwalker fell to the floor, holding back her tears with incredible will. "You need only ask for information. I have no reason to hide anything" She said between gasps as she folded her wings over herself in an unconscious protective gesture. "Where I came from is a mountain forest very far away from here. I was a member of a monastery. The monks there found me, a transformed child, half hawk half human and almost dead. The villagers in the valley had a habit of dispensing their unwanted at the monastery door. Any child who was born "different" was left to be raised by the monks. Sometimes the child was alive, but most of the time the parents didn't flee fast enough and the child was gone by the time they made the long journey. The monks would always do what they could to save the children though. When they found me, they weren't sure of my origins. There was nothing with me, I wasn't even covered with a blanket or clothing. In the rain, I guess I huddled myself in my wings to await salvation. The monks treated me as their family always and taught me martial arts and a keen mastery of staff weapons. They also taught me to use my "deformity" as a useful weapon. With time I learned how to fly and how to attack from the air using both a staff and my talons. I became a formidable hunter and earned my keep that way. At the age of 25, I stopped aging. Years beyond years went by and as the monks who found me passed on and new monks came to the order as the monastery became my life. Through meditation I learned how to control my form, I could change into a full hawk or a full human once per day. I used my powers to help the monks negotiate with towns and for scouting new hunting territories or keeping watch. Then one day..." her eyes seemed to get darker and her tears began to flow unchecked to the floor "I was deceived. Over the years the order was more and more being attacked by varying religious sects and reformers. The end was ever present but through will and strength we managed to keep it at bay. I remember the sunrise like it was yesterday" she choked on her tears and buried her head in her wing for several seconds, sobbing. Suddenly feeling eyes pierce through her, she started to absentmindedly play with a lock of her long feather brown hair and continued through tears "I saw a band of merchants move with haste up to our gate. 'Help us, help us!' they screamed as they ran 'bandits behind us, all around us! They are in the trees and on the roads...' I changed into my hawk form to scout in the direction they came from as the monks worked their magicks to try and calm the merchants down. I flew as far as my strength would allow but found nothing. It was close to sunset when I returned...to disaster. The entire place was burned to the ground. Not a soul of my order save myself was alive. Everything of value was gone, even my meager belongings. I mourned for weeks...months maybe. I lived in a stupor of loss. Everything I had ever known for centuries had been shattered in a matter of insignificant hours." She stared into the eyes of the man who came to her aid "and then one day I felt a calling deep within myself that I was unable to ignore, even though at first I tried. I started to travel, with only my staff, the clothing on my back and my traveling harness. I traveled for several moons, never stopping for more than a few hours at a time. As I traveled my strength seemed to fail me. When it seemed my strength was no more and I was begging the Goddess to take me into her loving embrace, I spotted this house and I knew..." She slumped back down to the floor, trembling. She mumbled to no one in particular "I am not sure what ails me now, all I know is that I want the misery over..."

Untitled Sorrow

I have seen the scars of battles past
Walked through the shadow of death
Fought for right and wrong
Sometimes the river flows
My path clear, a shield against the odds
Reality is a cold mistress
My hands are blistered
My boots are worn right through
Persistent thoughts of home ring through my ears
I climb the mountain, though my soul protested
My heart knows what it's after
When I approach familiar shores, I stand aghast
My home, my sanctuary, my everything
Ashes fall like pure driven snow
Ember and flame light up the midnight sky
I stand motionless, my hands trembling
My eyes stare a thousand miles ahead
My thoughts turn to eternal sacrifice
As I am swallowed by the silence of the night

A Distant Memory

I'm not sure when my brain fully made the leap from the land of dreams to reality. I was lost in some sort of abstract thought when I felt a slight tingling at the base of my neck and the distinctive rattle of electronic music pulsing through my skull. I opened my eyes and my vision was flooded with bright red fabric. Where in the hell was I? I felt a groan somewhere in the bottom of my throat as I slowly rubbed the sleep out of my eyes. The music was much louder now and even though I could hardly hear myself think, I didn't really mind. Somewhere in the distance, I heard snoring. As I pushed myself into a sitting position, I noticed my partner passed out beside me. I wondered for a second if he felt as out of it as I did. My eyes shifted from left to right and back to left again. I soon realized that I was in a tent and that the atmosphere was increasingly becoming way too warm. A bead of sweat rolled into my eye and as tried in vain to rid myself of the burning sensation, I noticed that my vision was incredibly fuzzy. I felt my brow furrow as one thought dominated all others: where are my damned glasses? I fumbled around for what seemed like an eternity. “Son of a bitch,” I heard myself say as my hand landed in a puddle of chilly drool. The icy, slime-like creature crawled over my hand at a snails pace. Even though I jerked my hand away quickly, I could still feel it's cold tendrils sticking to my skin.

I decided to venture on without my glasses. As I tugged the tent's zipper, I was slightly blinded by the glint of metal in my peripheral vision. I heard the Hallelujah Chorus mixed with heavy bass inside my head as my glasses suddenly came into perfect focus. In one fluid motion, I was standing outside, glasses in hand. In another less fluid motion, I tried to keep my legs underneath me. The world spun slightly and began to lean a little bit to the left. I was still feeling the effects of the night before. Food suddenly seemed like an incredibly good idea. Like magic, the smell of bacon floated past my nostrils. With the autopilot activated, my feet started to move in the direction of the smell. It wasn't long before I stumbled upon the source of the intoxicating odor. I approached the large tent hesitantly at first. I didn't know who the occupants were, nor did I know for sure if they would be willing to share their bacon-y goodness. My gut rumbled, an angry quake that I felt all the way down to the soles of my feet. I knew that my stomach wasn't going to let me be indecisive. As I approached, a woman called out to me, “Free bacon and chocolate cake with Bloody Marys!” I felt the muscles in my face explode into a huge grin as my feet kicked into overdrive. I'm not sure if I actually thanked the woman or if I only thanked her inside my head but I was quickly treated to a plate full of bacon and chocolate cake. For a moment, the only thing I could do was bask in the odor of the two opposing flavors. I closed my eyes and cautiously took a bite. My mouth and brain was not prepared for the sublime taste. It was salty. It was sweet. It sent my taste buds into a bi-polar fit. At that moment, in that place, I had found perfection.

After several servings, my stomach was satisfied. I thought about going back to the tent and sleeping the rest of the evening off but a voice inside my head told me that I was at the precipice of an incredible experience and that I should enjoy it while it lasted. I let my legs wander up a winding path. The sun fell on my face in spots, shadowed by the surrounding forest. I had always appreciated being away from the confines of city limits, but there was something in the air that day that made me feel completely at peace in a way that I had never felt before. I kept walking until the trail ended. I was faced with a somewhat treacherous wall of rock. Normally, I would leave any sort of climbing to the experts and turn around. This time, I was compelled to at least try to make it to the top. The rocks poked through the soles of my worn-out shoes and the palms of my hands threatened to blister but I soon found myself at my destination. Suddenly, I found myself looking down at an ocean of trees. The wind picked up slightly as I slowly looked around. My heart skipped a beat as I realized that I was on the top of a mountain. The wind hitting my face and arms, the smell of pine trees and the deep throb of loud music all combined to form one singular, all-encompassing force. I'm not sure how much of it was nature or how much of it was something inside my head. The sun's rays fell upon my skin and I felt the warmth wrap around me like a fleece blanket. At that moment, in that place, all was right in the universe.

The Price of Living is Death

I had this whole thing figured out. Well, maybe not the whole thing but I do know I had several bullet points that I wanted to explore. I really wanted go into some existential frenzy about how life experience has taught me everything I need to know and that I could forge on being a rooted tree and stand my ground come lightning or rain or hurricane.
I'm finding that to be a total load of bullshit.
I'm an incredibly strong person, so I've been told. Through death, through upset, through illness and injury, I've managed to stay pretty grounded. I keep myself together most days and when I can't, I have a good support system willing to go to bat for me any time I ask. I have a life that is crazy at times, complicated most of the time, but it isn't terrible by any stretch of the imagination. I was born with a patchwork brain and I was never given clear instructions as to how it works. Some times, this is a huge problem because I have no idea how to explain it to anyone else. Some times, I rejoice in the fact that my brain sees sounds that no one else can or that I can hear in color. What is inside my head is uniquely mine. I can't say that about anything else.
So what does all this have to do with anything? I'm finally living a somewhat "normal" life. I'm not dealing with catastrophic failures or mind numbing survival mechanisms. Why do I feel so down? I think it has a lot to do with the profound fragility of life itself and with knowing that everything I have so precisely arranged could be gone in an instant. There is no do-over or reset button. There are forces in the universe that I have absolutely no control over. I try not to think about it most of the time. There are days like today where I can do nothing but think about it. I try to distract myself by pouring all my energy into creative outlets, but sometimes all I can do is sit and think about how it all could be gone in the blink of an eye.
Some people want it all to end and sometimes they succeed in their efforts. For a long time, I thought that's what I wanted too. Thinking about it now, I realize that what I really want is for the uncertainty to end. I want the axe to fall. I want the other shoe to drop. Every day I wake up feeling like my neck is in a noose. I'm trapped, feet stuck to the trap door, just waiting for the hangman to flip the switch. I feel the rope on my skin and hear it rubbing me raw.
This is driving me crazy.

Bus People

I love public transit, especially since I am fortunate enough to have a bus pass that only costs $10 a month that gets taken care of by school grants, so technically it is free. That being said, I don't love or even like rude assholes on the bus. What do I consider a "rude asshole," you ask? I've compiled a tiny list.

1. People that don't give consideration to disabled and/or elderly passengers. I have a bum foot so I use a cane to get around sometimes. If someone gets on the bus who needs the front seats (or any seat if the bus is full) more than me, I'll move or ride standing. If you are a strong looking teenager, don't get pissed off at me if I glare at you when you refuse to move and let my ass sit down. Along the same lines, disabled people tend to move a bit slowly. Kicking the back of my feet while in the queue is not going to make me move any faster. In fact, it may make the queue come to a screeching halt because I will turn around and bust you in the balls with my cane.

2. People who don't look before they sit. I have been sat on, as if I were invisible. I've gotten people's asses in my face as well as all sorts of bags and backpacks. It doesn't take long to do a quick scan of the area before you flop your ass down on the seat.

3. The cell phone megaphone. Talking on the phone on the bus happens for a variety of reasons. I have no problem with people using phones quietly. When the entire bus can hear how much of a cunt your girlfriend is or how much of a drunken asshole your boyfriend is, it is time to evaluate the volume of your voice. Your kinks, your bratty kids, your family drama, your eviction notice, your hernia surgery or the boil on the crack of your ass, I DON'T WANT TO HEAR ABOUT IT and neither does anyone else.

4. People who have no sense of hygiene. I know, some days, it gets entirely too hot. Sweating a bit and smelling like B.O. is something that just happens on a hot day in a crowded area. There is however, a difference between being a bit sweaty and smelling like you haven't showered in a year. Also, if you smell like ANY type of bodily fluid or excretion, it might be time to bathe.

5. Perfume bathers. A few spritzes is fine, the whole bottle is not. If you alone can make the entire bus smell like the bastard child of Bed Bath and Beyond and a Mary Kay outlet store, you have used too much fragrance. Please consider the nasal passages of your fellow passengers while dosing yourself.

6. Teenagers. 90% of them have no sense of shame, decorum, class or decency. When sharing a public space, a certain amount of respect is expected and required in order for things to function smoothly. Making out like you are trying out for a soft-core porno is not acceptable bus behavior. Nor is loudly making drug deals. Asking people where to get drugs isn't exactly a good idea either. Even if I knew where to get drugs, I sure as hell wouldn't be telling your punk ass. The bus is not a rolling spot to hang out. Pick a spot, go there and STAY THERE FOR A WHILE. The bus is not your bedroom with wheels. Don't stick gum on the seats, don't leave trash and don't tag stupid shit all over the bus. No one likes cleaning it up.

7. The obscenely dressed. I dress like a freak. I know this and embrace it. I have no problems with people letting their freak flag fly. However, I don't want to see your bush, your cock, your hairy ass or your incredibly ample muffin top. If I can make out your sexy bits through your clothes, consider going up a size. Also, crack kills. Wear a belt. Knowing your bare ass is touching the seat is kind of a disturbing thought.

tl;dr: People should respect others while using public transit. Don't be a tool on the bus.

Review of Infected Mushroom: Army of Mushrooms

I've been an Infected Mushroom fan for a long time. I love how their music is constantly evolving and how no two albums sound identical. That being said, for the majority of their releases, they've gone with a mostly psychedelic trance sound. With the new album Army of Mushrooms, this is not the case. My verdict on the new Infected Mushroom album Army of Mushrooms: I love it. I think that adding more variety to their songs while at the same time keeping their signature sound (especially with the synths) is a good move. They sound a bit more Goth on some tracks and they even get into some dubstep (check out U R so Fucked, the song is hilarious as hell, so is the video) Psytrance purists be warned, this album is nowhere near as trance-ey as their previous releases. The track Pink Nightmares (Which isn't on the album even though it was supposed to be, it's a pre-release single) is rather "old Mushroom," however, so is their cover of The Pretender and Serve My Thirst. Pick this album up if you are in the mood for different. It may not be 100% trance but it is 100% Infected Mushroom.

Musings...

I wasn't born with a pencil in my hand. I am not a natural. I spent a long time thinking my creative brain was a curse because no one told me art is a process. Someone told me once that I had the heart and soul of a poet. Ive been told I'm a storyteller. Art is suffering, some say. I have so much shit inside my head but getting it out seems impossible at times. Some days, it seems too easy. I'm a bright red spot on the beige backdrop of life yet no one can see me. I'm so bright, I'm invisible. I'm so invisible, I'm bright. Burning up the fuel until I hit the ground, nowhere to go but up.

Confessions: Part One

Part one of a series of writings to help people learn a bit more about me...
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My husbandwife (yes, she is both) was born inter-sexed. I entered into the relationship knowing something was different about her, but wasn't sure what it was. In the beginning, she presented herself as a male. At birth she was gender assigned as male and was raised to believe that she was 100% physically a male. However, during puberty "he" started developing breasts. Her mother put her on male hormones, believing that developing breasts was a sign of some sort of defect. She only took the hormones for a few months but stopped once she realized what she was taking. For a long time (with the exception of performing in drag) she kept her female side a secret. This negatively impacted her relationships with women and with men. Women said she was not "man" enough, and men said that she was just trying to marginalize being gay by dressing up like a woman. When I met her, I was instantly attracted to her feminine qualities, which shined through even when she was living as a man. From a young age, I had found androgyny attractive and I was happy to have met someone at least somewhat androgynous in my small, ultra-conservative community. Honestly, I don't remember exactly when the whole subject about her dressing in female clothes came up, but I do know that we never really "discussed" the subject. As the relationship progressed, I did notice that we both liked sexy girl clothes (although I will admit I like them better on her). Even before we got married, I felt as if I was more of the "man" in the relationship and that it didn't really bother me. I grew up being a 100% tom-boy. My father ran a construction business and from a young age I felt more comfortable helping him work than sit around the house and play with dolls and kitchen sets. Before I met my wifehusband, I didn't really know how to cook or otherwise keep a house. I've gotten better, but I still am not as good at it as her. My relationships with traditional men were train wrecks because both of us were trying to be the "man." I am aroused by and enjoy heterosexual sex, to a point. I also enjoy having sex with females...to a point. I always wished that I could combine the things I like about both and have them at the same time (yeah, I'm greedy.) Then, the most wonderful person in the world decided that she wanted to spend the rest of her life with me. I'll admit, I have to get used to calling her female, as she spent the majority of our relationship being male in public but other than the public switch, things aren't different. There was no revelation of "I want to be a girl," I always knew that. People in general didn't and if they don't like it, oh well. I have found the perfect person, the perfect human being, for me.