I was once on this "get together." Date just isn't the right word...but after we had coffee and "tapas" and a drink, we returned to his car and while waiting for the car to warm up...I turned to him and said, "I'm going to kiss you now." Y'know, taking the bull by the horn, being pro-active. Well, if you could've seen the reaction on his face. His eyeballs grew so large I thought they were going to fall out. Then without even looking me in the eye, he said, "I think that would be...inappropriate."
INAPPROPRIATE???
What the fuck? Who says that??? A teacher to a student maybe...a normal reaction would be, "I'm not feeling that"...or "I'm not attracted to you.."....ANYTHING would've been better than, "inappropriate."
Do you realize how dirty I felt after that??
Unfortunately, it's something that still plays in my head. Not often, but often enough.
I haven't been able to let that go as of yet. Maybe, now I can....write Black Man, write.
The whole "dating" thing is a mystery. Single at 45. It's not the end of the World I know, but still, come on man....and self pleasuring is just a necessity every so often. It really doesn't have the same "OMG" as the two person version.
It's not about busting a nut...not now. In my 20's, fuck yeah. As much and as often as possible. I was always good "fuck" material. American, German, British, Australian. Black, White, Puerto Rican. Dutch. Even female at one point....a looooooong time ago. And if they had a husband/boyfriend that was into it...even better. Although, if there was a male with a female and we were all together....you better believe my attention was on him--but don't worry, she got the "good" stuff'in too...lol. I'm terrible. :)
---A Fuck Buddy. Weekend hookup....always the brides-maid and never the bride.
I have this fantasy--My Wedding Day: ...In a secluded meadow in the woods we are surrounded by beautiful, lush green trees. On the border of a lake with small isolated islands in the distance. I and my "partner for life" are dressed in off-white linen. We are surrounded by family and friends. There are birds in the background, cheerfully singing. A light breeze is in the air. We are happy. We look at each other, knowing we both have been searching for the other all our lives. Our hands embrace and we know we are one. Nothing can separate us. Words can never fully convey what our touch can do for each other. We are complete opposites in almost everything, but there's a mutual respect for who we are individually and an unflinching desire to be with each other for the rest of our natural lives. When we look into each others eyes, no words need explain, nor can explain, what we feel for each other. The person presiding over our nuptials says the words that will ceremonially bind us together. We kiss to seal the bond. And even though we have kissed many times, he still makes me weak at the knees. We embrace and kiss again. And again. And then, spurred on by the guests, we kiss again. Tears flow down our eyes and he kisses each one as they land on my cheek. I gladly return the gesture with an unbounded pride. This is MY man. I am his man. We have commited ourselves to each other and it is blessed and pure and beautiful. Instead of gifts we plant trees and flowers. We picnic with our family and friends and guests through early evening. Everyone is full of joy. One day maybe, not exactly as I've written, but he's out there, and we'll find each other. One day.....I feel it. I know it. And I can't wait to meet him......patience is the virtue and time the provider. All I can do, is make sure I'm ready.....and when I'm ready.....it's going to be fantastic.
Tuesday, May 31, 2011
Be the light you are...
Let your light shine through
Like a beacon in the night
Bedazzle in the day
Let your light shine through
Like a beacon in the night
Bedazzle in the day
Let your light shine through
The confusion of the world
Be the example of love
And gratitude
Even when your heart is heavy
Let go of your fears
Even if some tears will be shed
A destiny awaits
Get out of your head
.....Free your mind, and the rest will follow.
Saturday, May 21, 2011
...Chill, I got this!!
You're my band-aid,
You're my vitamin E,
You're my Cocoa Butter,
Smooth and Sweet.
In a blink, you are there,
A reluctant Hero...
The Whites of your eyes,
Pulling me in....
You are in my head...
Every month and especially on Sunday.
You are my heart,
You are my inspiration,
My Muse so fine.
I feel your presence,
Even when you're not near.
My heart beats strong,
From a mere thought of you...
You're strength is solid,
And I feel you holding me....wow,
And you're miles away.
You're space is inviting,
And I know....
There's a walk I have to take,
A path has been laid,
And I must walk it alone.
I'm not afraid...
...One day, with clear blue skies,
Our paths will cross,
And we'll smile and embrace
With a friendship solidified,
From one hell of a Rollercoaster ride.
xoxo
You're my vitamin E,
You're my Cocoa Butter,
Smooth and Sweet.
In a blink, you are there,
A reluctant Hero...
The Whites of your eyes,
Pulling me in....
You are in my head...
Every month and especially on Sunday.
You are my heart,
You are my inspiration,
My Muse so fine.
I feel your presence,
Even when you're not near.
My heart beats strong,
From a mere thought of you...
You're strength is solid,
And I feel you holding me....wow,
And you're miles away.
You're space is inviting,
And I know....
There's a walk I have to take,
A path has been laid,
And I must walk it alone.
I'm not afraid...
...One day, with clear blue skies,
Our paths will cross,
And we'll smile and embrace
With a friendship solidified,
From one hell of a Rollercoaster ride.
xoxo
6:01 pm EST,.....
Rapture: 1. the state of being carried away with joy, love, etc; ecstasy. 2. an expression of great joy, pleasure, etc. 3. a carrying away or being carried away in body, spirit.
....Where is the "fire and brimstone," we've all been led to believe was coming? The End of Days??
Maybe, just maybe, "the Rapture" isn't about the "destruction" of a species or planet. Maybe it's much simpler and healthier; maybe it's just a simple.."change in thought." Instead of the negative, something terrible is going to happen,...we are sinners and will be punished, maybe it's about embracing the life we have and placing our energy into the Joy of Living and Loving each other. Supporting each other regardless of color, creed, sexual orientation, economic status, etc.
Maybe, the "Rapture" is feeling the connectiveness of each one of us. The similarities we share as opposed to the apparent differences, ie: "I am black. You are white. So??" I am Gay. You are Straight. You are Bi-Sexual. You are Questioning. Short, Tall, Thin, Heavy, (As an overweight kid, I "loathed" the word "Fat." See, I didn't use the "hate" word....CHANGE OF THOUGHT! How we affect and effect each other's lives, no matter the distance. No matter the language. No matter our differences. I'm embracing the Rapture of Life. I am experiencing a "great joy".....that's my Rapture. I wish the same for you all. xoxoxoxoxo
....Where is the "fire and brimstone," we've all been led to believe was coming? The End of Days??
Maybe, just maybe, "the Rapture" isn't about the "destruction" of a species or planet. Maybe it's much simpler and healthier; maybe it's just a simple.."change in thought." Instead of the negative, something terrible is going to happen,...we are sinners and will be punished, maybe it's about embracing the life we have and placing our energy into the Joy of Living and Loving each other. Supporting each other regardless of color, creed, sexual orientation, economic status, etc.
Maybe, the "Rapture" is feeling the connectiveness of each one of us. The similarities we share as opposed to the apparent differences, ie: "I am black. You are white. So??" I am Gay. You are Straight. You are Bi-Sexual. You are Questioning. Short, Tall, Thin, Heavy, (As an overweight kid, I "loathed" the word "Fat." See, I didn't use the "hate" word....CHANGE OF THOUGHT! How we affect and effect each other's lives, no matter the distance. No matter the language. No matter our differences. I'm embracing the Rapture of Life. I am experiencing a "great joy".....that's my Rapture. I wish the same for you all. xoxoxoxoxo
Saturday, May 14, 2011
Saturday, May 7, 2011
My Personal Story of Late.....
My "Outlook"on life has forever been changed. In the last few weeks I have experienced the beginnings of transformation as a person, man and human being. Most of my friends know that I have been experiencing some "stress" lately and many know that I tried to end my life three weekends ago. Truth be told it wasn't the first time. Twice before, in my short, yet troubled life, I tried to commit suicide. Once in high school, I took a bottle of Aspirin. Yes, Aspirin. I won't mention the company name, don't need or want any "dismiss and decease orders, or whatever they do to protect their images. (There's some humour in there...somewhere) The only thing that happened was --I fell asleep and woke up the next morning. DAMN!! (it's called "dark comedy"--don't mean to offend anyone---*insider* "The Bridge Club..now that's the humour they were looking for...)
The second was years later, after I returned home to Philadelphia with a secret. I was diagnosed with HIV in 1991.
In 1994, I returned to the U.S., with the knowledge and "mindset"-- that I was "terminally ill."
It was the early years of the virus and people were dropping left and right. Selling off their insurance policies, jumping off of tall buildings in single bounds---no references what-so-EVER!!!! Although, oddly, the actor who played in the original series of Superman, from the 1950's attempted and succeeded, a major loss.
......I didn't inform my family about my illness. No one knew until 1997, when after a binge of partying, copious amounts of Ecstasy and Crystal Meth, I came back to the apartment I rented in Center City and slit my wrist. I was lucky, a friend found me, took me to the emergency room, from where I was admitted to a facility, basically to detox and clear my head. Went into therapy, thought I was okay and went about life as I thought and knew it to be--
This third, and for the record, THE LAST, is still somewhat of a mystery.
I've spoken to quite a few folks, my Mom and family, friends, the doctors from the hospital where I was admitted, the therapists, and even other patients who were admitted for various other reasons...How did I get into this funk? I dont' know.
What's shocking is that I was drug and alcohol free!!!!
The only thing in my system were the prescription meds I had taken to "drift off" after I had taken a razor blade to my wrists. Doing it the way I thought would allow the most "drainage"--if you will--in a bathtub. Again, lucky-- I was found-- to the horror of my sister. We've talked and OUR relationship is stronger, but it will be a long time before the memory of what I put her through will be just that--a memory. She's forgiven me but the process really must start with me--and me alone. Funny, I always isolated myself, I guess because I didn't want to face myself. But now, I needed to look in that mirror and tell myself something, I forgive you. I love you.
I am forgiving myself. And honestly, it's not that hard. I just had to make a switch---and it clicked, for me.
I realized that the ENERGY and WILL that it took for me to do what I did--could be, AND IS, the same ENERGY and WILL that can bring me to the other side, and give me what I want from this life.
I am Recovering from the shame and embarrasment. Forgiving myself for the pain that I brought to my family and friends and extended families and worldwide friends.
I understand that many of the people in my life are angry. And there may be more in the coming weeks, and that's okay. I understand and I WILL listen, when and if they want to talk and express their feelings.
Around this time, three weeks ago, I was in my bedroom, curled up in the fetal position, crying. By the early dawn on Easter Sunday morning, I was in my bathtub, frenzied, lost, and under the darkest cloud I've ever experienced. The meds, I purposelyfully and willfully took to aid me in my attempt made me drowsy--(sidebar: Part of recovery for me is accepting responsiblilty--part of the forgiveness process)--
....and after I--with a purpose and will that came from I do not know where,-- had finished laying the ground work for my blood to leave my body. (Again, trying to be respectful to peoples personal experiences..)
My hands were in the water underneath my body.
It's insane I know---but from my diagnosis of Depression (by naming it, I take away it's power OVER me--thnxs J.K.R) --see, humour is possible *insider* The Bridge C...:P
.....In those moments before I was found...I was...gone. I--was replaced by this dark, gloomy, desolate man, determined to........end it.
Here's a somewhat morbid thought I had...."statiscally" speaking, men who attempt Sui Cide use razors, women who attempt take pills..."statistically" women succeed......makes you think, whose "resolve" is greater--odd way of saying, "I admire the strength of Women."
The exception to these "facts" may be, as I've recently learned, with the folks who make their way to the Golden Gate Bridge in San Francisco, and jump. I admire anyone---bear with me--with the WILL to climb XX number of heights, and jump to their death. What I've decided to do is reverse it...change the WILL, change the Man, Person, Human Being.
Which brings me to the real purpose of this piece....to be blunt and forthcoming about Depression. To be honest and open about my actions of late and to accept responsibility for the affects//effects of that choice.
To offer my story, as an example of finding your "KEY" to unlock whatever it is putting you at "dis-ease", if anything at all, ...the energy and will is there, just make it work for you. You can lift yourself up and out of whatever is bringing you "dis-ease."
I am in a good place now and I know my road to a full recovery is a bit down ways.
I am afraid to forget but I am willing to forgive.
I must.
But part of me doesn't want to forget....a reminder and a way to look for signs in others.
Thnxs. xo
The second was years later, after I returned home to Philadelphia with a secret. I was diagnosed with HIV in 1991.
In 1994, I returned to the U.S., with the knowledge and "mindset"-- that I was "terminally ill."
It was the early years of the virus and people were dropping left and right. Selling off their insurance policies, jumping off of tall buildings in single bounds---no references what-so-EVER!!!! Although, oddly, the actor who played in the original series of Superman, from the 1950's attempted and succeeded, a major loss.
......I didn't inform my family about my illness. No one knew until 1997, when after a binge of partying, copious amounts of Ecstasy and Crystal Meth, I came back to the apartment I rented in Center City and slit my wrist. I was lucky, a friend found me, took me to the emergency room, from where I was admitted to a facility, basically to detox and clear my head. Went into therapy, thought I was okay and went about life as I thought and knew it to be--
This third, and for the record, THE LAST, is still somewhat of a mystery.
I've spoken to quite a few folks, my Mom and family, friends, the doctors from the hospital where I was admitted, the therapists, and even other patients who were admitted for various other reasons...How did I get into this funk? I dont' know.
What's shocking is that I was drug and alcohol free!!!!
The only thing in my system were the prescription meds I had taken to "drift off" after I had taken a razor blade to my wrists. Doing it the way I thought would allow the most "drainage"--if you will--in a bathtub. Again, lucky-- I was found-- to the horror of my sister. We've talked and OUR relationship is stronger, but it will be a long time before the memory of what I put her through will be just that--a memory. She's forgiven me but the process really must start with me--and me alone. Funny, I always isolated myself, I guess because I didn't want to face myself. But now, I needed to look in that mirror and tell myself something, I forgive you. I love you.
I am forgiving myself. And honestly, it's not that hard. I just had to make a switch---and it clicked, for me.
I realized that the ENERGY and WILL that it took for me to do what I did--could be, AND IS, the same ENERGY and WILL that can bring me to the other side, and give me what I want from this life.
I am Recovering from the shame and embarrasment. Forgiving myself for the pain that I brought to my family and friends and extended families and worldwide friends.
I understand that many of the people in my life are angry. And there may be more in the coming weeks, and that's okay. I understand and I WILL listen, when and if they want to talk and express their feelings.
Around this time, three weeks ago, I was in my bedroom, curled up in the fetal position, crying. By the early dawn on Easter Sunday morning, I was in my bathtub, frenzied, lost, and under the darkest cloud I've ever experienced. The meds, I purposelyfully and willfully took to aid me in my attempt made me drowsy--(sidebar: Part of recovery for me is accepting responsiblilty--part of the forgiveness process)--
....and after I--with a purpose and will that came from I do not know where,-- had finished laying the ground work for my blood to leave my body. (Again, trying to be respectful to peoples personal experiences..)
My hands were in the water underneath my body.
It's insane I know---but from my diagnosis of Depression (by naming it, I take away it's power OVER me--thnxs J.K.R) --see, humour is possible *insider* The Bridge C...:P
.....In those moments before I was found...I was...gone. I--was replaced by this dark, gloomy, desolate man, determined to........end it.
Here's a somewhat morbid thought I had...."statiscally" speaking, men who attempt Sui Cide use razors, women who attempt take pills..."statistically" women succeed......makes you think, whose "resolve" is greater--odd way of saying, "I admire the strength of Women."
The exception to these "facts" may be, as I've recently learned, with the folks who make their way to the Golden Gate Bridge in San Francisco, and jump. I admire anyone---bear with me--with the WILL to climb XX number of heights, and jump to their death. What I've decided to do is reverse it...change the WILL, change the Man, Person, Human Being.
Which brings me to the real purpose of this piece....to be blunt and forthcoming about Depression. To be honest and open about my actions of late and to accept responsibility for the affects//effects of that choice.
To offer my story, as an example of finding your "KEY" to unlock whatever it is putting you at "dis-ease", if anything at all, ...the energy and will is there, just make it work for you. You can lift yourself up and out of whatever is bringing you "dis-ease."
I am in a good place now and I know my road to a full recovery is a bit down ways.
I am afraid to forget but I am willing to forgive.
I must.
But part of me doesn't want to forget....a reminder and a way to look for signs in others.
Thnxs. xo
The Longest Short Story, EVER!!!
It was a dark and stormy night. Drops of rain were running down the "vintage" papered walls and there was an eerie chill in the air. Lights flickered through the frosty windows. She sat in silence curled up in front of the fireplace holding an old sweater, watching the flames perform an acrobatic ballet. The soft frayed cotton massaged her fingertips. It felt so painfully familiar. She held it tight, pressing it against her cheek. She could still smell him in the fabric. She didn't dare wash it for fear of rinsing his scent away. It was all she had left of him. Trembling, she sighed brokenly. Though alone, she knew she was not. She peered down at the lining of the sweater, initals were sewn onto its pocket- a tip of paper peeked out - In desperate shock, she took the small, folded parchment out. A NOTE, concealed within. Unfurling the paper, she noted the handwriting-it was unmistakable... "I love you," it read. "But I cannot fathom a life in which we are together. Our past corrupts our future, I am sure and even though I know you disagree, I am certain that if I stay, I will loose myself and that I cannot do." She paused, and in that split second she realized that she was utterly and completely alone. She took a breath as if to remind herself that she was here, but now, what?
There were other "things" around the crowded room that reminded her of him, "to many memories," she thought. As she turned to head out of the room, she noticed something glistening in the far corner. "This attic is a mess," she said. As she walked over to investigate, she realized it was a piece of jewelry, a chain of some sort, peeking from out of a small box, as if calling her over..she held it in her hand. It was much heavier than she expected. It didn't feel like any metal that she was familiar with. She place the chain around her neck and she continued to explore until she came to an old metallic brief case. It was... locked. She put in several combinations trying to open it. His birthday? No. Her birthday? No. Their anniversary? No. The day their son died? No. Then she looked at the chain and the little pendant on the end. It had numbers engraved on the back: 0-5-6-9-2. She put the combination in the lock and the breifcase clicked open. She couldn't believe what she was now looking at. He mind struggled to make sense of it. She pulled out a very large handgun and several passports with his face on it. Each passport had a different alias.
Underneath the passport was a very large sum of neatly stacked 100 dollar bills and a very sharp knife. "My God." she whispered to herself. "Who are you?" Suddenly, she was flooded with memories - vividly, she recalled the first time they had ever locked eyes in a smokey bar in Instanbul, shortly after the war... the mysterious bruises and scars he would come home with. She knew how secretive he could be but she just assumed he was very private. He was never neglectful to her. But she could always feel there was something he wasn't telling her. The weird stains on his shirts that never came out, and that clown costume she found stuffed under the bed,..it was all adding up- He was a spy. But where...when- HOW? Maybe the dog knew even more than she- what about the home security tapes? Should she DARE peruse the dark truth?? "Why had he chosen this life?" she thought. Was there more about his past that she didn't know? And why was it more important than her? What Mildred didn't know was that he didn't choose this life. Bart, as Mldred knew him, aka Mathew, aka Francis, aka Victor, aka Francois, had been pullled into a world wide web of intrigue when he was but 18. He parents, having died in a mysterious accident, a week before, relatives he never new about called on him to help him in his time of grief. These "relatives", though, had ulterior motives. And, strangest of all, they all wore purple berets and shoes. Purple berets and shoes because purple was the new black! It appeared that these people had some kind of control over Bart and were manipulating him but the interesting thing was, is that whenever he mentioned them to anyone, no one had ever seen or heard of them. Being in such a vunerable state having lost his parents, he was extremely influenced and therefore began to wonder if these people were all in his imagination. Or, could it honestly be, a dream within a dream? That still didn't account for the missing times and days in his life either- and that clown costume,,...or the weird buzzing in his head,. She collapsed on to the dusty, damp floor, with her legs sprawled infront of her and then leant backwards and gazed out at the moon through a crack in the attic roof. She took a deep breath in as she felt utterly alone and lost once more. Suddenly, whilst gazing at the moon....she heard whispers in the dark. She held her breath to concentrate better, to focus on the sounds. She closed her eyes and tried to use her gift.
The "Gift," a legacy that has been passed down to the first born child of her family. Not all were able to control these powers in her family. She flashed back to when she was a child in her Nana's care. Her mother died because of it. Lost her mind. Nana said that she had taken it for granted. Didn't respect it. And it destroyed her. Mildred then began to expand her awareness, the feeling was incredible. Like floating on a cloud. She had never called upon her powers so quicly, and the rush of energy flowing through her was alomost unberarable. She took another breath and finally let go...suddenly the whole room began to spin. The settled dust was no longer settled and created a mass of fog which was unberabled to breathe in. The gentle rain outside turned in to torrential rain and she dragged herself up from the ground awkwardly, spluttering and coughing but completely fearless of what she had created for the first time....a portal. She knew how dangerous this was from the stories her Nana told her. But she also knew this was the only way to find the truth. Who is Bart? Why did he leave? She gathered a few belongings and made sure to grab her grandmother...'s talisman. If things didn't work out, she would have to use the talisman to get back. At the last minute and before stepped through the circling mass of energy, she saw a Purple Beret, "that wasn't there before," she said. But she didn't have time to analyze....and with one breath and one jump, she was gone. Bart was an artistic type, with tall, dark, handsome features but with a mystery about him, almost meloncholy air but nothing sinister.
Mildred had seen him a few times at the local shop and was intrigued by him when she first set eyes on him....a moment in time she was about to witness. Mildred found herself back in that smoky bar in Istanbul and she realized that the lovely young girl sitting at the table in the far corner was strangely familiar. Quickly she moved to one of the dark-er corners of the bar to observe what she already knew....she had somehow transversed more than continents. She had, in fact, stepped into that portal and traveled back in time. But how was this possible? Could that young girl really be...a man? But no, it couldn't be, "me....as a MAN??!!" The very thought suddenly sent chills up her spine. Where was she? She had no twin brother......or did she? Confusion set in and she sat back into the hard wooden chair to catch her breath. WHERE AM I... ????? WHERE....???? A hunched back waiter came over to her... and gave her an envelope. "It's from the gentleman at the bar." He whispered to her. She stopped. Almost frozen and turned to the bar. She couldn't believe her eyes. Instinct, gut reaction, she didn't know which, but her hands had covered her mouth just as she had said his name, "Bart!" Her legs began to tremble as she tried to stand. "Easy girl," she thought. This was happening, she wasn't dreaming and she would finally have the answers she so desparately needed. But what about that envelope...? Dare she open it? What would it reveal? What could the contents possibly be? And, was she really ready to know all that it contained? She sensed fear, and yet, curiosity. she had waited so long. she clenched it tight, torn between what she would find...she looked at the envelope and saw something that struck fear into the deepest cord of her soul. She broke into a cold sweat at the name written into the return address corner. She knew there was nothing she could do to escape her sworn ene...my. She read the name in the upper right hand corner: Sallie Mae. Somehow, her student loans had tracked her to Istanbul.
What most people didn't know is that Sallie Mae was actually short for Salvator Maezagotti from the South Philly Italian mafia. She walked over Bart. Her hands shaking and said..."What's a guy like you doing in a place like this?," said Mildred. As the man she knew as Bart turned, there was something different about him, and yet familiar. He turned and looked at her and said, "Do I know you Madame?" Mildred's knees began to buckle. When Mildred opened her eyes again, she was in a sitting room of exotic decor. Turkish pillows strewn about the floor. Moorish lamps illuminated the space. She blinked her eyes trying to clear her mind, trying to figure out how she got here. And she remembered, Bart...the bar....she stood up quickly and started for the door when it opened before she could reach it. "I couldn't have you recognize me there" Bart said with a sad voice, "Not with everyone around, the stench, the smoke, the flies in the food-no, it had to be here, and here alone,...Mildred,...my dear love,...is the purple beret that i have always carried with me to remember you by...i know, you think it can't be, but it is, and there's so much more that you should know......with bated breath she listened...transfixed...unwilling and unable to divert her eyes from his. Neither blinked for what seemed like minutes. Then he says with great gravity and gentle care, "We are from another time,...and I've been allowed to come back and try to explain things to you. You have a part to play in all this, Unfortunatley, I can't tell you --everythin',-- some you will have to learn on you're own---but I can tell you this, you've already done this and you know all you need to know, now, it's time to find out, why?" As Mildred listened intently, she couldn't help feelin', the truth of the matter. Somewhere inside of her she knew what he was sayin' was the truth, but Metaphysics wasn't her specialty in University...all she could do was...sit and ponder....and sit, and wait, and think. she kicked back another shot of cuervo, and then...the room began to spin. She quickly held onto the edge of the bar for balance. She turned to Bart for help, but he only stared back at her; as she began to lose consciousness, the only thing she could hear were his last words, "it's time."
Mildred's eyes fluttered, watery and fuzzy- she couldn't make out where she was yet- but the face in front of her now was very familiar to her,....and it wasn't Barts. It was a clown in a purple barret...Mildred's lover from high school who was even then the class clown and now he wanted to renew their friendship. But there was something in his eyes she noticed, something lost, gone...."trust," she thought she heard him say, "lies,"....."you lied to mmeeeeeeeeeee. I put my trust in you..," he said. "You took my vulnerability, my hurt, my pain and made a mockery of it.....a mockery....! You stomped on the heart that would've followed you in the pits of hell, only with a word."you listened on the side of a lustful bed mate. I know the truth of who you really are, were, and will be....you see, I was you.....I was you." And with that he disappeared and was never seen again. Mildred sat stunned, unable to breath. "How...," she thought. With a sudden flash, he was back, "OH...and another thing, "Cooooooock a Doodle Dooooooooooooooo." And in a flash, he was gone again! Mildred's senses began to hum, she could feel the energy building around her, suddenly her hands began to tingle. She raised her hands slowly, and looked down, they were glowing. She turned them over and in the palm of each hand was a symbol. "Alpha...and Omega," she thought. But what could they mean, what could they mean? Shaking and sweating, her toes felt something wet and slippery undernieth them- sand...wet sand with seawater lapping at her feet- she was standing in the middle of a beach at sunset, the sky aglow with orange and pink....and she was wearing a gold lame' suit that shone with rhinestones ......a figure was approaching in the distance-.the brightness of the Sunset blinded her or was it, "no, it couldn't be," she said. She realized the blinding light was coming from the figure approaching. As it came closer, the light began to diminish as if closing, like a door....."...a portal." But this wasn't like any of the "portals" she had created in her practice sessions. She could feel the energy emanating, embracing her the closer it came. Softly and without a single hesitation, she began chanting a Prayer of Protection... "I am a Child of the Light// Each day and each night// Protected I am// through HER precious might//..... she had been usd to the effects of such Energy before, it was built up during the sessions back home. Carefully, slowly, but this was different, calling upon IT so quickly had it's consequences no mildred...don't go in the light! stay awaaaaay from the light! Meanwhile, back in Istanbul, Bart was frozen speechless. His eyes began to blink, slowly he was beginning to remember the events of the evening. He looked around, but, where was Mildred? Then suddenly, he saw a small bubble like thing coming toward him in the sky from far away...closer and closer it came, and he hoped with all his heart...YESSS!!!! it was a beauty in a tiara, and pale blue ball gown..yesss..as he had hoped...it was kristin chenowith! He quickly grabbed the first thing he could, gaffers tape. In the blink of an eye, he raced towards her and said, "NO SHOWTUNESSSSSSS," and proceeded to make sure no sound could escape. He then thought, "I have been looking to do something else." He backed up to sit down. Behind him was a creaky old rocking chair, "that's odd," he thought. "That wasn't there before," and the small silver Yorkie wagging its tail at them both,..that wasn't their dog,at all. They had a rotweiler....suddenly, there was an extremely high pitched sound, like a high e above c, and the bubble like thing burst open to reveal the tiniest blonde in heals...but why was she carrying a septor, and wearing a tiara? the yorkie was baffled, but sensed trouble, and immediately backed away, and bumped into the chair. Bart and the Yorkie both exchanged looks, as if to say, "huh?" The beautiful woman with a Sceptor made of Oak and a Tiara made of Elderberry smiled and said, "can I have a glass of water?" Little did they both know, water was the ONLY thing that kept her alive, "Waterrr,..she whispered, melodiously, as if a sprinkle of rainbow puffed out of her mouth. " Waterrrrr." Bart ran behind the dust covered bar, only to find the Bartender lying face down in a pool of Bloody Mary Mix--there were Olives outlining his small framed body. He tried to find a "clean" glass...but they seemed to be all covered in lipstick stains. There was also a full tip jar on the counter...overflowing with bills...and the piano played....a familiar tune. Bart closed his eyes, took a breath and exhaled.
Memories began to flood his mind. Faster and faster, memory after memory, experiences and regrets. When finally, somewhere deep within in him, with a surge of climatic proportions, he opened his mouth and sang, "AND IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII"...am telllllllin' you...IIIIIIIIII'M NOT GOIN'..." it was only when he had reached the lyric "you're the best man i've ever known; there's no way i could ever, ever go" that she began to realize...Bart was never whom he had seemed to be, and now she knew why he left, and just what he was after. It ALL began to become clear and make sense.
"But what about the Turtle?" he thought. And with THAT Bart turned and started to leave, when in the corner of his eye, on the far end of the bar, there glistening under the light, was a shimmering Red Rose, lying across a small envelope. "I didn't notice that before," he said. Before he knew it, he had glided across the room. He picked up the Rose, it's velvet smooth petals sent shivers through him, electrifying him, "charging' his spirit. He could now see, written on the envelope was his name, "Bart." Written with such a grace, in it's penmanship. Almost, lyrical. He opened it and unfolded the note. With a deep breath he began to read. And with each breath after, he became consumed by the note. Charged and mesmerized. He welcomed the Grace and closed his eyes and with that said, "that was fun." Mildred, by now, KNEW, with all of her heart that Bart was a changed man, but he was never going to be hers....the happiness on his face, from the info the letter contained had said it all...and that was what he had been waiting for, for quite some time.
..this story was the collaboration of a group of friends I have on Facebook. If you are interested in joining, look us up on Facebook, The Longest Short Story, EVER!!!!
There were other "things" around the crowded room that reminded her of him, "to many memories," she thought. As she turned to head out of the room, she noticed something glistening in the far corner. "This attic is a mess," she said. As she walked over to investigate, she realized it was a piece of jewelry, a chain of some sort, peeking from out of a small box, as if calling her over..she held it in her hand. It was much heavier than she expected. It didn't feel like any metal that she was familiar with. She place the chain around her neck and she continued to explore until she came to an old metallic brief case. It was... locked. She put in several combinations trying to open it. His birthday? No. Her birthday? No. Their anniversary? No. The day their son died? No. Then she looked at the chain and the little pendant on the end. It had numbers engraved on the back: 0-5-6-9-2. She put the combination in the lock and the breifcase clicked open. She couldn't believe what she was now looking at. He mind struggled to make sense of it. She pulled out a very large handgun and several passports with his face on it. Each passport had a different alias.
Underneath the passport was a very large sum of neatly stacked 100 dollar bills and a very sharp knife. "My God." she whispered to herself. "Who are you?" Suddenly, she was flooded with memories - vividly, she recalled the first time they had ever locked eyes in a smokey bar in Instanbul, shortly after the war... the mysterious bruises and scars he would come home with. She knew how secretive he could be but she just assumed he was very private. He was never neglectful to her. But she could always feel there was something he wasn't telling her. The weird stains on his shirts that never came out, and that clown costume she found stuffed under the bed,..it was all adding up- He was a spy. But where...when- HOW? Maybe the dog knew even more than she- what about the home security tapes? Should she DARE peruse the dark truth?? "Why had he chosen this life?" she thought. Was there more about his past that she didn't know? And why was it more important than her? What Mildred didn't know was that he didn't choose this life. Bart, as Mldred knew him, aka Mathew, aka Francis, aka Victor, aka Francois, had been pullled into a world wide web of intrigue when he was but 18. He parents, having died in a mysterious accident, a week before, relatives he never new about called on him to help him in his time of grief. These "relatives", though, had ulterior motives. And, strangest of all, they all wore purple berets and shoes. Purple berets and shoes because purple was the new black! It appeared that these people had some kind of control over Bart and were manipulating him but the interesting thing was, is that whenever he mentioned them to anyone, no one had ever seen or heard of them. Being in such a vunerable state having lost his parents, he was extremely influenced and therefore began to wonder if these people were all in his imagination. Or, could it honestly be, a dream within a dream? That still didn't account for the missing times and days in his life either- and that clown costume,,...or the weird buzzing in his head,. She collapsed on to the dusty, damp floor, with her legs sprawled infront of her and then leant backwards and gazed out at the moon through a crack in the attic roof. She took a deep breath in as she felt utterly alone and lost once more. Suddenly, whilst gazing at the moon....she heard whispers in the dark. She held her breath to concentrate better, to focus on the sounds. She closed her eyes and tried to use her gift.
The "Gift," a legacy that has been passed down to the first born child of her family. Not all were able to control these powers in her family. She flashed back to when she was a child in her Nana's care. Her mother died because of it. Lost her mind. Nana said that she had taken it for granted. Didn't respect it. And it destroyed her. Mildred then began to expand her awareness, the feeling was incredible. Like floating on a cloud. She had never called upon her powers so quicly, and the rush of energy flowing through her was alomost unberarable. She took another breath and finally let go...suddenly the whole room began to spin. The settled dust was no longer settled and created a mass of fog which was unberabled to breathe in. The gentle rain outside turned in to torrential rain and she dragged herself up from the ground awkwardly, spluttering and coughing but completely fearless of what she had created for the first time....a portal. She knew how dangerous this was from the stories her Nana told her. But she also knew this was the only way to find the truth. Who is Bart? Why did he leave? She gathered a few belongings and made sure to grab her grandmother...'s talisman. If things didn't work out, she would have to use the talisman to get back. At the last minute and before stepped through the circling mass of energy, she saw a Purple Beret, "that wasn't there before," she said. But she didn't have time to analyze....and with one breath and one jump, she was gone. Bart was an artistic type, with tall, dark, handsome features but with a mystery about him, almost meloncholy air but nothing sinister.
Mildred had seen him a few times at the local shop and was intrigued by him when she first set eyes on him....a moment in time she was about to witness. Mildred found herself back in that smoky bar in Istanbul and she realized that the lovely young girl sitting at the table in the far corner was strangely familiar. Quickly she moved to one of the dark-er corners of the bar to observe what she already knew....she had somehow transversed more than continents. She had, in fact, stepped into that portal and traveled back in time. But how was this possible? Could that young girl really be...a man? But no, it couldn't be, "me....as a MAN??!!" The very thought suddenly sent chills up her spine. Where was she? She had no twin brother......or did she? Confusion set in and she sat back into the hard wooden chair to catch her breath. WHERE AM I... ????? WHERE....???? A hunched back waiter came over to her... and gave her an envelope. "It's from the gentleman at the bar." He whispered to her. She stopped. Almost frozen and turned to the bar. She couldn't believe her eyes. Instinct, gut reaction, she didn't know which, but her hands had covered her mouth just as she had said his name, "Bart!" Her legs began to tremble as she tried to stand. "Easy girl," she thought. This was happening, she wasn't dreaming and she would finally have the answers she so desparately needed. But what about that envelope...? Dare she open it? What would it reveal? What could the contents possibly be? And, was she really ready to know all that it contained? She sensed fear, and yet, curiosity. she had waited so long. she clenched it tight, torn between what she would find...she looked at the envelope and saw something that struck fear into the deepest cord of her soul. She broke into a cold sweat at the name written into the return address corner. She knew there was nothing she could do to escape her sworn ene...my. She read the name in the upper right hand corner: Sallie Mae. Somehow, her student loans had tracked her to Istanbul.
What most people didn't know is that Sallie Mae was actually short for Salvator Maezagotti from the South Philly Italian mafia. She walked over Bart. Her hands shaking and said..."What's a guy like you doing in a place like this?," said Mildred. As the man she knew as Bart turned, there was something different about him, and yet familiar. He turned and looked at her and said, "Do I know you Madame?" Mildred's knees began to buckle. When Mildred opened her eyes again, she was in a sitting room of exotic decor. Turkish pillows strewn about the floor. Moorish lamps illuminated the space. She blinked her eyes trying to clear her mind, trying to figure out how she got here. And she remembered, Bart...the bar....she stood up quickly and started for the door when it opened before she could reach it. "I couldn't have you recognize me there" Bart said with a sad voice, "Not with everyone around, the stench, the smoke, the flies in the food-no, it had to be here, and here alone,...Mildred,...my dear love,...is the purple beret that i have always carried with me to remember you by...i know, you think it can't be, but it is, and there's so much more that you should know......with bated breath she listened...transfixed...unwilling and unable to divert her eyes from his. Neither blinked for what seemed like minutes. Then he says with great gravity and gentle care, "We are from another time,...and I've been allowed to come back and try to explain things to you. You have a part to play in all this, Unfortunatley, I can't tell you --everythin',-- some you will have to learn on you're own---but I can tell you this, you've already done this and you know all you need to know, now, it's time to find out, why?" As Mildred listened intently, she couldn't help feelin', the truth of the matter. Somewhere inside of her she knew what he was sayin' was the truth, but Metaphysics wasn't her specialty in University...all she could do was...sit and ponder....and sit, and wait, and think. she kicked back another shot of cuervo, and then...the room began to spin. She quickly held onto the edge of the bar for balance. She turned to Bart for help, but he only stared back at her; as she began to lose consciousness, the only thing she could hear were his last words, "it's time."
Mildred's eyes fluttered, watery and fuzzy- she couldn't make out where she was yet- but the face in front of her now was very familiar to her,....and it wasn't Barts. It was a clown in a purple barret...Mildred's lover from high school who was even then the class clown and now he wanted to renew their friendship. But there was something in his eyes she noticed, something lost, gone...."trust," she thought she heard him say, "lies,"....."you lied to mmeeeeeeeeeee. I put my trust in you..," he said. "You took my vulnerability, my hurt, my pain and made a mockery of it.....a mockery....! You stomped on the heart that would've followed you in the pits of hell, only with a word."you listened on the side of a lustful bed mate. I know the truth of who you really are, were, and will be....you see, I was you.....I was you." And with that he disappeared and was never seen again. Mildred sat stunned, unable to breath. "How...," she thought. With a sudden flash, he was back, "OH...and another thing, "Cooooooock a Doodle Dooooooooooooooo." And in a flash, he was gone again! Mildred's senses began to hum, she could feel the energy building around her, suddenly her hands began to tingle. She raised her hands slowly, and looked down, they were glowing. She turned them over and in the palm of each hand was a symbol. "Alpha...and Omega," she thought. But what could they mean, what could they mean? Shaking and sweating, her toes felt something wet and slippery undernieth them- sand...wet sand with seawater lapping at her feet- she was standing in the middle of a beach at sunset, the sky aglow with orange and pink....and she was wearing a gold lame' suit that shone with rhinestones ......a figure was approaching in the distance-.the brightness of the Sunset blinded her or was it, "no, it couldn't be," she said. She realized the blinding light was coming from the figure approaching. As it came closer, the light began to diminish as if closing, like a door....."...a portal." But this wasn't like any of the "portals" she had created in her practice sessions. She could feel the energy emanating, embracing her the closer it came. Softly and without a single hesitation, she began chanting a Prayer of Protection... "I am a Child of the Light// Each day and each night// Protected I am// through HER precious might//..... she had been usd to the effects of such Energy before, it was built up during the sessions back home. Carefully, slowly, but this was different, calling upon IT so quickly had it's consequences no mildred...don't go in the light! stay awaaaaay from the light! Meanwhile, back in Istanbul, Bart was frozen speechless. His eyes began to blink, slowly he was beginning to remember the events of the evening. He looked around, but, where was Mildred? Then suddenly, he saw a small bubble like thing coming toward him in the sky from far away...closer and closer it came, and he hoped with all his heart...YESSS!!!! it was a beauty in a tiara, and pale blue ball gown..yesss..as he had hoped...it was kristin chenowith! He quickly grabbed the first thing he could, gaffers tape. In the blink of an eye, he raced towards her and said, "NO SHOWTUNESSSSSSS," and proceeded to make sure no sound could escape. He then thought, "I have been looking to do something else." He backed up to sit down. Behind him was a creaky old rocking chair, "that's odd," he thought. "That wasn't there before," and the small silver Yorkie wagging its tail at them both,..that wasn't their dog,at all. They had a rotweiler....suddenly, there was an extremely high pitched sound, like a high e above c, and the bubble like thing burst open to reveal the tiniest blonde in heals...but why was she carrying a septor, and wearing a tiara? the yorkie was baffled, but sensed trouble, and immediately backed away, and bumped into the chair. Bart and the Yorkie both exchanged looks, as if to say, "huh?" The beautiful woman with a Sceptor made of Oak and a Tiara made of Elderberry smiled and said, "can I have a glass of water?" Little did they both know, water was the ONLY thing that kept her alive, "Waterrr,..she whispered, melodiously, as if a sprinkle of rainbow puffed out of her mouth. " Waterrrrr." Bart ran behind the dust covered bar, only to find the Bartender lying face down in a pool of Bloody Mary Mix--there were Olives outlining his small framed body. He tried to find a "clean" glass...but they seemed to be all covered in lipstick stains. There was also a full tip jar on the counter...overflowing with bills...and the piano played....a familiar tune. Bart closed his eyes, took a breath and exhaled.
Memories began to flood his mind. Faster and faster, memory after memory, experiences and regrets. When finally, somewhere deep within in him, with a surge of climatic proportions, he opened his mouth and sang, "AND IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII"...am telllllllin' you...IIIIIIIIII'M NOT GOIN'..." it was only when he had reached the lyric "you're the best man i've ever known; there's no way i could ever, ever go" that she began to realize...Bart was never whom he had seemed to be, and now she knew why he left, and just what he was after. It ALL began to become clear and make sense.
"But what about the Turtle?" he thought. And with THAT Bart turned and started to leave, when in the corner of his eye, on the far end of the bar, there glistening under the light, was a shimmering Red Rose, lying across a small envelope. "I didn't notice that before," he said. Before he knew it, he had glided across the room. He picked up the Rose, it's velvet smooth petals sent shivers through him, electrifying him, "charging' his spirit. He could now see, written on the envelope was his name, "Bart." Written with such a grace, in it's penmanship. Almost, lyrical. He opened it and unfolded the note. With a deep breath he began to read. And with each breath after, he became consumed by the note. Charged and mesmerized. He welcomed the Grace and closed his eyes and with that said, "that was fun." Mildred, by now, KNEW, with all of her heart that Bart was a changed man, but he was never going to be hers....the happiness on his face, from the info the letter contained had said it all...and that was what he had been waiting for, for quite some time.
THE END
..this story was the collaboration of a group of friends I have on Facebook. If you are interested in joining, look us up on Facebook, The Longest Short Story, EVER!!!!
What is...RECOVERY??
I've been thinking about this a lot lately and have come to this realization, it was inspired by something I read recently and this is what I've come to understand......
Regardless of whether it is from physical or mental abuse, drug or alcohol addiction, depression, HIV, Cancer, Illness--Any disease that keeps you from living a full and joy-filled lfe is "Dis-Ease." Therefore, the meaning of "RECOVERY" is very clear and simple, "it is remembering who we are throughout the darkness and "BECOMING" who we were meant to be."
The key is talking and opening up. Reaching out.
Reach out to family, friends, clergy, doctors, therapists, groups, "1 800 Hotlines"--it doesn't matter, someone, somewhere will listen and be there for you. It's a journey. Just depends on how you look at it.
For me, My ship has finally come in...this is offered to any and all who find themselves searching and asking questions and looking for answers and are not sure where or whom to turn to.....xoxo
Regardless of whether it is from physical or mental abuse, drug or alcohol addiction, depression, HIV, Cancer, Illness--Any disease that keeps you from living a full and joy-filled lfe is "Dis-Ease." Therefore, the meaning of "RECOVERY" is very clear and simple, "it is remembering who we are throughout the darkness and "BECOMING" who we were meant to be."
The key is talking and opening up. Reaching out.
Reach out to family, friends, clergy, doctors, therapists, groups, "1 800 Hotlines"--it doesn't matter, someone, somewhere will listen and be there for you. It's a journey. Just depends on how you look at it.
For me, My ship has finally come in...this is offered to any and all who find themselves searching and asking questions and looking for answers and are not sure where or whom to turn to.....xoxo
Okay, Now I Get It!!!
So, this dream I had last night is still fresh in my mind and I think I'm beginning to understand....bear with me folks.
.....I haven't auditioned for a musical for a very long time and here's what the reason is.....
I went to Europe with a production of the musical "HAIR" back in 1988/89. While over there I auditioned and was cast in the German production of Starlight Express.
Now, this production was under the direction of the original production team and their successors. These were and are still some of the top people in the business and the some of the major players and creative forces behind very successful West End Productions.
For me, it was a career HIGH!!
In '91, while doing Starlight, I rec'd my HIV diagnosis.
After that, EVERY show I was cast in was a constant reminder of that period of time. Of that day and of that afternoon meeting with the Doctors.
I lost my JOY for the Art.
I lost my JOY for singing.
I mean, truth be told, I had aLOT of work to do, to become a better singer, or better yet, a "good actor who can carry a tune"---insider (thank you Katie Green for that wonderful phrase)
But "Singing", which at the time I was doing in "musicals", left such a bad taste and feeling with me.
Don't get me wrong, I tried to "keep moving" and plugging in to what my job was...did other shows, but the "JOY" and FUN of musicals just wasn't there anymore, because of that day,
my "Will" or "Joy" was taken........
....but last week, I auditioned for a wrkshp production, don't even know the name, I just did it off the cuff.
After the events of the last few weeks, I needed to do something...just for me.
I was desparate to re-CLAIM that part of me....and I have...
After that auditon, which by the way, I PISSED all over that damn studio....NAILED the song..."mr. Cellophane" from Chicago...many of you, who know me, know the history of that show and that song with me....., asked me to read from the script for two characters....and smiled and shook my hand and made small talk with me after....
Since then, after I walked out of the building and headed home...I walked taller. Stronger. I've been happier than I have in a long time. And I really think that was the key for me. Making that connection. Wow. Very Cool. xoxo
.....I haven't auditioned for a musical for a very long time and here's what the reason is.....
I went to Europe with a production of the musical "HAIR" back in 1988/89. While over there I auditioned and was cast in the German production of Starlight Express.
Now, this production was under the direction of the original production team and their successors. These were and are still some of the top people in the business and the some of the major players and creative forces behind very successful West End Productions.
For me, it was a career HIGH!!
In '91, while doing Starlight, I rec'd my HIV diagnosis.
After that, EVERY show I was cast in was a constant reminder of that period of time. Of that day and of that afternoon meeting with the Doctors.
I lost my JOY for the Art.
I lost my JOY for singing.
I mean, truth be told, I had aLOT of work to do, to become a better singer, or better yet, a "good actor who can carry a tune"---insider (thank you Katie Green for that wonderful phrase)
But "Singing", which at the time I was doing in "musicals", left such a bad taste and feeling with me.
Don't get me wrong, I tried to "keep moving" and plugging in to what my job was...did other shows, but the "JOY" and FUN of musicals just wasn't there anymore, because of that day,
my "Will" or "Joy" was taken........
....but last week, I auditioned for a wrkshp production, don't even know the name, I just did it off the cuff.
After the events of the last few weeks, I needed to do something...just for me.
I was desparate to re-CLAIM that part of me....and I have...
After that auditon, which by the way, I PISSED all over that damn studio....NAILED the song..."mr. Cellophane" from Chicago...many of you, who know me, know the history of that show and that song with me....., asked me to read from the script for two characters....and smiled and shook my hand and made small talk with me after....
Since then, after I walked out of the building and headed home...I walked taller. Stronger. I've been happier than I have in a long time. And I really think that was the key for me. Making that connection. Wow. Very Cool. xoxo
Das Kraft und Licht auf Mir: In the Light of Truth.......
"Take back those glances // Professional? Maybe, oh sure, yeah. whatever // Erase the past, please // Any memory, oh yeah // Of me, in your Life // A Dream to See // To no Fruition // It just can't B //
~ JCT3
~ ahhhhhhhhhhh---Herr Curtis Rider, (du bist der "Trojan Horse")--YOU were the Trojan Horse.
WOW.....wow.....the puzzle has been completed. :P
ER...ist sehr gut, ja-Er ist. Das Licht ist sehr gut.
Wirklich unglaublich....
Meine Liebe fur dich war...Infinite.
"Es gibt ein Licht ganz am ende des Tunnels." ~ Poppa, aus dem Starlight Express.
Es gibt einen grossen, schwartzen, schwanz, wer liebe Greek essen,....Wundershun!! Wunderbar!!!
Ich wunsche fur dich ganz....happiness.
Er habt meinen Herz, nicht mere. Und das ist, "okay."
Ich bin JETZT frei.
Herzlich und Gluckwunsch zu dir. Aber diesen Zug ist KAPUT!!! GANZ KAPUT! :)
........Hast du mir gehort!!!!
ES IST JETZT DABEI!!!
Es ist jetzt FORBEI!!!
Alles Klar meinen Deutsche Leuten und alle dem das kommen aus Europa,..oder Sie das hat verstehen!
Habt ich verstehen?
Aber doch meine liebchen. rflol.
Ich machen prakticum nur auf meinen deutche sprache-- oder, zu sagen, das dabei, meinen "denglish" sprachen zu prakticum. lol.
Ich hoffe....lol.
"Wie geil ist DAS denn!!!"
XOXOXOXO
--- Ja, es ist sehr teif meine freunden. smdh. Sehr teif.
Ich bin der Kraft!!! Das zug Kraft.
bedanke mich,
James Tolbert
xo
~ JCT3
~ ahhhhhhhhhhh---Herr Curtis Rider, (du bist der "Trojan Horse")--YOU were the Trojan Horse.
WOW.....wow.....the puzzle has been completed. :P
ER...ist sehr gut, ja-Er ist. Das Licht ist sehr gut.
Wirklich unglaublich....
Meine Liebe fur dich war...Infinite.
"Es gibt ein Licht ganz am ende des Tunnels." ~ Poppa, aus dem Starlight Express.
Es gibt einen grossen, schwartzen, schwanz, wer liebe Greek essen,....Wundershun!! Wunderbar!!!
Ich wunsche fur dich ganz....happiness.
Er habt meinen Herz, nicht mere. Und das ist, "okay."
Ich bin JETZT frei.
Herzlich und Gluckwunsch zu dir. Aber diesen Zug ist KAPUT!!! GANZ KAPUT! :)
........Hast du mir gehort!!!!
ES IST JETZT DABEI!!!
Es ist jetzt FORBEI!!!
Alles Klar meinen Deutsche Leuten und alle dem das kommen aus Europa,..oder Sie das hat verstehen!
Habt ich verstehen?
Aber doch meine liebchen. rflol.
Ich machen prakticum nur auf meinen deutche sprache-- oder, zu sagen, das dabei, meinen "denglish" sprachen zu prakticum. lol.
Ich hoffe....lol.
"Wie geil ist DAS denn!!!"
XOXOXOXO
--- Ja, es ist sehr teif meine freunden. smdh. Sehr teif.
Ich bin der Kraft!!! Das zug Kraft.
bedanke mich,
James Tolbert
xo
Untitled
Did you ever have the sinking feeling that you are on the verge of a major breakthrough.
That the next 3 steps are going to lead you down a corridor that you're not quite sure of....I know what you're thinking...what's with all the cryptic.
Patience my pretties....all good things in time and in their rightful place....whatever the hell that means. Oh look, sarcasm, you can't write that.....HA.
Anyway, I wish I could show people the "entire" picture. From the very beginning of a "scripts" inception to the very last adlib, brought to fruition, in a time of "trying to pick up their feet, being left behind like the SHIT in a public restroom. Damn, that's fabulous imagery.
Oh, what to do??? What to do??
It amazes me how "clever" some men think they are....how "devious". They really don't know the Game, the Rules or the Masters of this "realm".
Ah, you're still wondering "what the fuck is he talking about???"
Stay tuned readers......it's going to be a bestseller. Fo sho'.
There's a faction of our society that practices deciet, or at least they try to...drawing from past attempts at keeping truth's hidden......we'll draw from life to create Art. Art that moves and shakes at our very core. Words delivered from the quivering lips of an Anarchist. A fighter against the system. The enemy of mediocrity and conformity.
I find myself lost. I feel for the man-child. Torn I am....for I understand his fear. What I can never understand is his superficiality. His desire to be part of the status quo. Especially after such exhausting conversations on the strength of his convictions. The Manor of his care.....hmmm, I think I've exhausted this topic. It's at a stand-still for me, at this moment.
But...there are other ways of telling a story. There's a mastepiece in the making and I can only tell it....for only I can see the meaning. The Art of "Reading" a person isn't an exact science. It's practice. It's a process of elimination. Of throwing out the covers to see what's truly underneath the sheets.
.....All he ever wanted was to live his life. HIS LIFE!
To follow the dreams that were drawn in the clouds of blue, Saturday skies. Early morning daydreaming as the clock ticked down the minutes of his daily routine. His eyes shifted back and forth, focusing on nothing, wondering, "why?" Always, "Why?" Why me? Why now? Why here?
Questions running through his mind like a leaky faucet. The kind you just sit there and watch and do nothing about......until you're forced to--because now, the leak has eroded the foundation of security surrounding your faucet. Where's the putty? Glue? Something for god's sake. Anything to keep it all in...nothing can get "leaked" out. Nothing. For that would be the greatest tradgedy of all. The flood gates would be opened and someone else would need to be called...and that can't happen, 'cause that would mean someone else knows about the "leak." Someone else knows...about the "leak." The equipment is not right. That's not normal. I'm not normal. Those are the thoughts. He knew he wasn't the first, but that didn't ease the dis-ease. Yes, Dis-ease. That's what he feels...and he will fight, fight and fight to keep it in check......unless......It's Midnight. The Darkness....protects. It conceals him. Gives him strength....temporary maybe, but for this moment in time, He is strong. He can breath now....but there are rules. It can only be here. Now. Time is of the essence. Stories must be constructed and alibi's crafted with the expertise of first year recruits....their arrogance is their tell.
That the next 3 steps are going to lead you down a corridor that you're not quite sure of....I know what you're thinking...what's with all the cryptic.
Patience my pretties....all good things in time and in their rightful place....whatever the hell that means. Oh look, sarcasm, you can't write that.....HA.
Anyway, I wish I could show people the "entire" picture. From the very beginning of a "scripts" inception to the very last adlib, brought to fruition, in a time of "trying to pick up their feet, being left behind like the SHIT in a public restroom. Damn, that's fabulous imagery.
Oh, what to do??? What to do??
It amazes me how "clever" some men think they are....how "devious". They really don't know the Game, the Rules or the Masters of this "realm".
Ah, you're still wondering "what the fuck is he talking about???"
Stay tuned readers......it's going to be a bestseller. Fo sho'.
There's a faction of our society that practices deciet, or at least they try to...drawing from past attempts at keeping truth's hidden......we'll draw from life to create Art. Art that moves and shakes at our very core. Words delivered from the quivering lips of an Anarchist. A fighter against the system. The enemy of mediocrity and conformity.
I find myself lost. I feel for the man-child. Torn I am....for I understand his fear. What I can never understand is his superficiality. His desire to be part of the status quo. Especially after such exhausting conversations on the strength of his convictions. The Manor of his care.....hmmm, I think I've exhausted this topic. It's at a stand-still for me, at this moment.
But...there are other ways of telling a story. There's a mastepiece in the making and I can only tell it....for only I can see the meaning. The Art of "Reading" a person isn't an exact science. It's practice. It's a process of elimination. Of throwing out the covers to see what's truly underneath the sheets.
.....All he ever wanted was to live his life. HIS LIFE!
To follow the dreams that were drawn in the clouds of blue, Saturday skies. Early morning daydreaming as the clock ticked down the minutes of his daily routine. His eyes shifted back and forth, focusing on nothing, wondering, "why?" Always, "Why?" Why me? Why now? Why here?
Questions running through his mind like a leaky faucet. The kind you just sit there and watch and do nothing about......until you're forced to--because now, the leak has eroded the foundation of security surrounding your faucet. Where's the putty? Glue? Something for god's sake. Anything to keep it all in...nothing can get "leaked" out. Nothing. For that would be the greatest tradgedy of all. The flood gates would be opened and someone else would need to be called...and that can't happen, 'cause that would mean someone else knows about the "leak." Someone else knows...about the "leak." The equipment is not right. That's not normal. I'm not normal. Those are the thoughts. He knew he wasn't the first, but that didn't ease the dis-ease. Yes, Dis-ease. That's what he feels...and he will fight, fight and fight to keep it in check......unless......It's Midnight. The Darkness....protects. It conceals him. Gives him strength....temporary maybe, but for this moment in time, He is strong. He can breath now....but there are rules. It can only be here. Now. Time is of the essence. Stories must be constructed and alibi's crafted with the expertise of first year recruits....their arrogance is their tell.
Friday, May 6, 2011
Monday, May 2, 2011
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