Traditional Witchcraft for Woods and Forests; A review.

Traditional Witchcraft for the Woods & Forests by Melusine Draco is a wonderful read for anyone who feels the need to get away from the pressures of the city for a moment or few.

One of the very first books I read from Moon Books had to do with spirit animals and animal magic, and as a wolf I definitely need the comfort of the forest. This book isn’t just an instruction manual (like so many of these type of books are) it cuddles you up in forest and that for me is priceless.

I am lucky enough to have the follow up books to this first gem, and I am excited to start on my next adventure with lady Draco. I strongly recommend this book and probably will ( I’m pretty sure) the rest of her books. I also found her page Traditional Witchcraft so go have a look at that too.

 

In terms of style I enjoy that she is more of a story teller like I mentioned earlier. It also makes me happy that old lore is a recurring topic and that we get to learn and bathe in the wonders of things that we will possibly never be able to fully comprehend.

I think I have exhausted my thesaurus and just writing this review makes the hairs on my body stand up in excitement and admiration.

 

Definitely worth the time it took to get to this book.twwf

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Heritage Day

Today is my last day

 

I manage to crawl off the bed that ceased to be coupled almost a decade ago

then land in my still relatively tiny bathroom, though my own physique seems to be shrinking by the second now

I look up at my reflection and I realise the purpose of mirrors

There is a headline,

my face

wrinkled and grey beneath its letters seems to unfold like an over ripe flower without ever having been touched

it says;

Heritage Day

I shuffle along until I trip over the now almost dry white board marker and I begin the list:

One: I inherited the dark lines of deceit off my mother’s core

Two: I learned how to live with being a liar

Three: I came as a foreign being full of love

Four: I was denied love but I’m still leaving filled with only those four letters

Five: Life was beautiful though the darkness is always the beginning of a new story

Six: I inherited the art

Seven: I will never forget

 

I rinse myself off and decide that it would be better to leave full of hope

After all

3 months before they expected me I was ready

13 years before I was

they weren’t

my family

 

The wardrobe whispered the call of majesty

I obeyed my longing eyes

past the dioors and my goodbye suit

I found the two letter phrase barely in disguise and I remembered why

Heritage day:

One: I learned how to judge myself better than anyone had ever judged me

Two: It wasn’t always sunny

Three: How to fake the smile through heartache

Four: How to cause the same

Five: My clothes are cheap

Six: I am unworthychocolat_l

Seven: I knew this each time we made eye contact… after all; we are self proclaimed judges

 

So neat, tidy and fresh I walk towards the lonely seat and the non functional tv

and on the top right hand corner of the screen

A phrase in white paint screams out at me

Heritage Day:

One: My skin colour murdered my first love

Two: I inherited the skill of not caring much for those attributes

Three: My father Died of a broken heart

Four: You saved mine

Five: Our life was puzzled together by vibes and muted sentences

Six: In the end, my quirks were irrelevant and your were my indica

Seven: I fell eternally asleep with the very thoughts that days and nights before had always haunted me.

 

Palm on palm now

My eye lids find their space

No tears left in me

My heritage day is eternal

and I only grew to know that the moment I looked into you!

 

 

 

 

The New Dead Genereation (X)

‘Wine, song, food and fire (Wine, song, food and fire)
Clothes, shelter and seed
No more need for the old empire (Fare thee well to the empire)
The indigo children’

Puscifer: The Indigo Children

The most amazing part of living life after 1945 is that freedom of speech is once again an actual thing! This is why many people will enjoy this blog and just as many will look down their one sided noses at it. However, whichever group you fall under does not define your inherent character. It would just be proof of how ignorant and closed minded our generation is capable of being on the one hand, and on the other – completely liberal.

She said that the Nazi Germany and Her dictatorship made for an uncomparable one in the history of human kind;

Why?

She said that propaganda was the way of The Wolf… and yet in all of their museums and history books, all you will ever find is one side of the story – one picture – one victimized race!

Yet, to begin with the concentration camps had no interest in keeping Jewish prisoners – and let’s face it; the only reason this became the coldest of all dictatorships in people’s minds ; is because the Puppeteers turned it into a racial issue.

What about the soldiers who DIDN’T want to participate in the mass murder but had no choice? Does the world not deserve to hear their story?

Did the mass murder really occur, and if it did – who was the actual perpetrator?

Why did the wolf choose to attack instead of protect?

Has anyone even dared to ask themselves this? Surely it takes a lot more than slight insanity to become the most haunting name in history?

I am not trying to justify The Wolf’s actions in this blog, this blog is about whether you will choose to unlock all the barred doors in your mind or choose to live safely and comfortably behind the bars.

‘The Generation X, commonly abbreviated to Gen X, is thegeneration born after the Western Post–World War II baby boom. Demographers and commentators use birth dates ranging from the early 1960s to the early 1980s.’

The above statement is merely a half truth or in the words of narrow mninded historians ; propaganda.

In reality Generation X is the generation of Children born between 1965 and 1999 – these kids are a select few and yet there are milions of them – also known as The Indigo Children. However –  as all things that are not mainstream or that do not fit into the puzzle of the puppeteers, this generation of special kids (most of which are now adults) have been undermined and labelled as non-existant or unreal.

My mission is not to direspect the victims ; my mission is to honour the memory of those who were victims too but were not considered as such because the world instantly turned its back on an entire nation for the crimes of a select few people. This is why the Indigos have come; to create balance and equality. All that is light is not necessarily good or pure.

All hail the US liberators!

The true saviours of Germany. The men who revealed the horrors of the happenings between 1939 and 1945.

What a whole lot of bullshit!!!

What is worse is that there are still people who come to Germany with the intent to extract answers from people who had absolutely nothing to do with whatever did or did not happen. People who agressively accuse an entire nation because their great granparents are said to have been “victims”…

Nazi Barbarism!

And she says The Wolf was full of Propaganda – because that tablet had absolutely no intent but to tell the truth right?

The fact of the matter is that nobody except for the politicians and pupeteers and those now dead know the real truth. No matter how many books you have read, no matter how justified you feel you are to pass judgement – you would never know the truth. Nobody really knows the truth and those who have survived to tell the tale would obviously not be really credible sources of information; but then – that’s just my opinion.

Have you ever wondered why the US chooses an Eagle as Her symbolic power?

‘The eagle’s eyesight is especially remarkable. With vision about five times sharper than our own, an eagle can spot a target as small as a rabbit up to a mile away. In addition, an eagle has excellent depth perception due to the overlap, of the right and left fields of vision. The talons,or claws on an eagle’s toes are curved and razor-sharp for catching and holding their prey. This gave eagles the name raptor which comes from a Latin word “rapere” meaning to grip or grasp. Rough bumps on the eagle’s toes also help them hold slippery, wiggling fish. A raptor’s feet are important to capturing food and also as a method of protection. 

The long talons and vise-like grip can inflict serious wounds to intruders. Their diet consists mainly of fish, but waterfowl, small mammals and even turtle remains have been found in their nests. To catch fish, eagles generally watch the water surface from a perch or while soaring in the air. Then they swoop down close to the water and drop their feet right in the water to catch the fish. Eagles often steal food from other eagles or from other birds of prey like ospreys. They also eat carrion, the decaying flesh of dead animals, such as a deer hit by a car. Carrion is especially important in winter when other foods are not easily found.

Eagles are “birds of prey,” which means they hunt for their food. Unlike other birds, which eat seeds or insects and travel only short distances in search of a meal, the eagle must often fly great distances in order to find worthy fare. In order to do this without expending the inordinate amounts of energy that flapping flight would require; the eagle has become a master of soaring. Riding upon vertically spiraling columns of warm air called thermals, the eagle can travel up to twenty miles per hour virtually without effort.

The eagle is further aided in flight because its bones are hollow. Unbelievably, the total weight of an eagle skeletal system is only half the weight of its feathers! With a wingspan of seven to eight feet and a wide and rudder-like tail, the eagle was built to master the skies.

Do you remember your history lessons?

How did the US finally penetrate Germany?

The amazing thing about having a real history teacher in a neutral country to this event in history is that you got to see both sides of the story… while you still could. Of course now there has been legal action against any positive outlook or second story to WW2.

The above image of the Roll Call is said to have been taken by the Nazis, that the prisoners were picked out. The healthy looking, neat kind of person who does not seem to be suffering . Could be, however the images the Americans show in the German museums are the extreme opposite. How can there be no middle ground?

Let’s have a look at some of the reasons the Eagle had to get The Wolf to self-destruct.

Please watch this to the very end and find the lyrics if you must:  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=q_fRVtcQq2k

1.)The United States in World War I declared war on the German Empire on April 6, 1917. The U.S. was an independent  power and did not officially join the Allies. It closely cooperated with them militarily but acted alone in diplomacy. The U.S. made its major contributions in terms of supplies, raw material and money starting in 1917. American soldiers under General John J. Pershing arrived in large numbers on the Western Front in summer 1918. They played a major role until victory was achieved on November 11, 1918.’

PRIDE

2.) …’In other words, responsible for the post-war hyperinflation was not the German government, but rather the privately owned central bank in Germany, and its monopoly it had over the creation of money.  Germany’s economy was crashed and devastated by bankers…’

DEFINE CENTRAL BANK: at the time Federal Reserve NYC as the ‘mothership of all central banks’.

But wait there’s more…

‘refusing to play ball with the Rockefeller-Rothschild rules, one of the first things he did was fix the corrupt, debt-based financial system.  By completely thwarting the international banking cartels, the Nazi government issued its own currency known as Reich Marchs, which were debt free and uncontrollable by international financial interests.

Debt Free Finance = Freedom…

Would freedom from the talons of the raptor be suitable for the raptor itself?

Of course not; lest news spread of the raptor’s weakness. The raptor cannot be known as weak, for any future prey could then learn the raptor’s weakness until the raptor dies of hunger.

3.) …Just as Hitler issued debt-free currency for Germany, Abraham Lincoln setup an interest free banking system in the United States when he was President, and he was murdered for it.  Former US president Andrew Jackson issued interest-free currency, and two shots were fired at his head in an assassination attempt, but the shots misfired and he survived.  John F. Kennedy issued interest-free currency during his presidency and we all know how he met his untimely demise.

4.) …‘After Germany’s public banking system was installed, world Jewry responded by declaring war on Germany, including a global boycott of German goods. Within two years, the German economy was flourishing with its new-found stable, and inflation-free currency.’

COMPETITION…

I could continue to list these but I would rather move on to my next point:

The Baracke X – 

These were said to have been built in order to burn the excess bodies of the prisoners and war prisoners… they were hardly used however. Why?!

Rumour has it that it was because the 3rd Reich realized that the war wouldn’t end as swiftly or quickly and possibly not in their favour. They therefore began to try and keep their prisoners alive.

Hmmm.

Is it impossible that these were built as part of the picture that the Raptor wanted to show?!

Is it?

Enter the supposed gas chambers.

These were never used.

This is a memorial wall for “all the victims” – except the gays, the gypsies and the common thieves and criminals. You know… because the above mentioned are just … well, not considered as human enough to be remembered or mourned or respected. They weren’t victims; they were bound to hell anyway.

I mean does nobody else see this?? 

Árbeit Macht Frei – Work Sets You Free

According to historians the above is a way to mock the prisoners as they would be worked to “death” and so they really would be set free.

I feel the greatest amount of sympathy for the ignorant and even more for the persecuted.

If one hundred years from now you woke to discover that everything you have been spoon-fed was a lie; how would you apologize to the people the world (including you and me) has forced to walk with their heads down in guilt? How do you apologize to history? How do you apologize to a people who are so inherently good at heart, a people who are not afraid to help, who live respect, honesty, dilligence and softness?

How would you apologize to this young troop of officers in training who are forced to bow their heads for crimes that may or may not have been as the Raptor would like you to believe they were?

 DEN TOTEN ZUR EHR DEN LEBENDEN ZUR MAHNUNG: A honour to those who died, a warning to those who live

This is seen as a controversial statue; why?

Because the prisoner has warm clothes, closed shoes and a smug smile on his face.

Will you live as the victim and inadvertedly put the blame on a third party?

The more we refuse accept responsibility for the past, the present and the future – the more victims we will create.

So YES!

May the dead be honoured, but not JUST the “victims” we are told about… may ALL the dead be honoured, and finally may ALL the living be warned!

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2A8u4Z13hUw

ALL MY LOVE: CANIS LUPUS

Bitter Mistress

Here in the madness of everyday foolishness I give into my monsters. I allow them to coax my spirit with their anger. I swallow regret with a teaspoon of pride and suddenly the world makes more sense. There are no more sonnets or love poems to be expected from this being… unless the other appears miraculously and deletes the folders of mistrust which are frozen as a constant back screen on the system that is her mind; like an indestructible virus slowly eating away at the system as a whole. She finds comfort in the cradles of old songs, the kind that inspired the flowing red from her veins, but that’s unimportant… nothing really matters now. The other girl has managed to return, colder and meaner and more prohibiting than ever and I rejoice that I am not alone in my own brain anymore so that she may remind me that no-one is worthy of her honesty or truth… our honesty… our truth. If fate existed, right now; I’m riding her from the back doggie style.

Now feel the tingle of the sneer down your spine reminding you to stop being a hypocrite. We all wish to be brave enough to be the gods of our own universes, I’m just cocky enough to say it loud and proud and not giving a fuck about what that’s going to sound like or alternatively what anyone else’s thoughts are on the topic. This is my life, my struggle and all along I’ve gone through it all alone. I therefore have no obligation to be thoughtful of you because you don’t matter to me. This is the safe house of a soul, heart and spirit that are so worn out that they are beyond recognition. I know not whether these really are mine anymore-I’m even more uncertain of who I once thought I was and who I am now or what I am aiming for in life, but I suppose since I write my own destiny on a tattered little book I bought yesterday from ‘Spar’ for R4.50 … I make the rules and sometimes chaos really does rule over any other rule. I invited Delirium in; she has happily brought Death with her. To kill what once was the girl in a long-since shattered mirror now forming just a broken frame around a yellowing white wall and return to me in a dead, ghostly life the girl who once scared every feeling off before it could hurt.

Welcome home sweet bitter mistress.

Tonight I let you take over me entirely and what does it matter if the act of making love remains metaphorical to me for the rest of this existence? I will still create more art than those constantly active because I will be hungry for passion always when the bitter other me isn’t looking. In those precious moments I will redirect my gaze from wishing to create and having you experience what I want you to. I will be the rapist of your mind… bestowing on you the truth no matter how many times you deny it. I will repeat and scream it at you until you have finally believed that the “I” is the most important entity in your world.

Who can say that one reality is more important than another? It is the “I” of your world that only experiences what it does and it is that same entity who will deliver the information gathered to the greater whole when dead.  

Who cares why she lied and said the things she didn’t mean… the bottom line is lies and dishonesty, why cling on to those? Surely I deserve better than to be lied to? Surely I deserve to be cared for, to be fussed over, and to be a sun for another dark soul?  One wants not to question every ‘I miss you’ although that is why my bitter mistress has returned. Her function is to instill more doubt until I can no longer get hurt. My mind, soul and heart need to think always together, not allowing the heart to just feel as it pleases. Past experience has shown us that it is that initiative of the heart is what ends up breaking it in the first place. How much more anguish do I wanna allow into my life? How many humiliations and degradations? So Carpe-Diem little mistress and don’t you ever let me feel again!

Letters To You… (2)

Complications are most frustrating. I do not know how to speak to you still, I don’t even know how to begin a conversation… so I send you songs and subtle wishes, hoping that you will realize. I would love to be myself around you. I would like to whisper kisses with the rain and hope that you will feel them. I would like to be the sand on the beach you walk on, to radiate warmth and to tickle gently… I would like to be the glass of Merlot, to feel your breath on me, to fit comfortably in the curves of your lips before you indulge in a sip of me. I would like to linger as an after-taste, an evident memory of some distant time and place…

Hearing the melodies of songs that lead me into the head-space of you. I have lied to myself. I have filled the empty spaces with different faces in attempt to erase the memory of you. I wanted to banish it,to fall in love with someone else… to mean it. I cannot say that I love you, but I know that I feel you.

This takes me back to the time when circumstance brought me into the cage of convenience. Living day by day in a falsetto, I lost  hope… Sitting on the bedroom floor and moping the dirt away with my tears as a detergent. Fate took pity on me that day.

“Happiness hit her like a train on a track… coming towards her, stuck still no turning back…”…

“That was Florence and the Machine with Dog Days are Over right here on Tuks fm, please stay tuned for the latest on…government…”

Your name escaped from the depths of somewhere in me I never knew existed, and the teary smile could not be prevented then. I cried and smiled and mopped and knew that there was something I had to succeed for… I didn’t know you back then either but I felt you… you must have felt me too.

I got dressed that evening with confidence and purpose, I cleared my thoughts and proceeded to work. The night was a little cold, the restaurant was empty… I thought of you  and wondered whether I’d ever see you again. I had seen a lady who resembled you many times but I knew she wasn’t the one who stole my breath and knocked the strength out from under me.

There you were… as radiant as I had ever seen you, your face winded me and I shook like a leaf in a storm.

Composing myself, the glass of wine was delivered… then the conversation… the memory of your eyes and smile, the contours of your face… the longing to trace each of them, to follow my gaze into the depths of you. I wanted to understand the secrets to your heart and keep it with me and scream out to the world so that everyone may know that true connection is irreplaceable.

You’re such a big part of me… but I can and I have lived without you. When winter gracefully announces herself, the scent of the season reminds me of that space… that dismal moment… incapable of reaching out or speaking out or fighting, I let you slip back into the grasp of the other.

I want to be brave enough… no,not yet.

The story is not complete.8565005911_3226c37790_z

Pre-Noir

I need to create an instance, a circumstance where light is eradicated. What would humanity be if we were to live in darkness?

What would humanity see?

How would you react if you were to suddenly be shown that the core of humanity is actually demonic?

Is it so difficult to understand that darkness is at the core of our natural state of being?

When you close your eyes… you re-generate into a state of darkness. We wake to light – to

live the surface life of flesh and ‘sin’… our fake i.e: carnal-lives are composed of what we term as “light”.

Darkness does not provide for the flesh or the body… even so – some of our most physically gratifying moments stand out in our memories as moments of pleasure under a dark blanket in the arms of someone we love.

Black_4

The blind may not see but they dream as we dream and imagine as we imagine!

Switch your light off and see what happens!

Become still and unfettered.

We need  to be freed from the blinding light in order to win beneath the veil, to fight the battles that many are still unwilling to acknowledge!

What is the use of making love if our souls fail to sing out louder than our physical bodies do?

Where am I going with this?

We all want to be heard or seen, but in reality, all we actually strive for is to connect, to be FELT and RECEIVED instead of rejected. In darkness rejection would be impossible… there you would simply have the magic between souls and the texture of it.

At some point in my life, a sip of Gin could help place a smile back onto my face.

What a paradox…

Loving something as clear and see-through as Gin yet romanticizing the darkness.

The hero of my own literature shall then be named ;

Noir…

Gin Noir!

A Story of A Blue Sun

Just a poem written for someone 🙂 very late one evening!

Blue-Sun-web

Yellow
They said was what made the world red
And red being the color of love… meant that everything yellow
was good for a smile and a dance
But his color was blue
So he thought it true
When the world would tell him he couldn’t

One evening he slowly
headed for home after a long day of shining blue light on the world
he though to himself a miserable thought
that all was lost at bright yellow’s high cost
and about love he completely forgot
With his sad face on his chest
and a torn heart at his breast
he continued to walk on home

Until one day while shinning sadly on us
a stranger figure appeared before him
and she seemed to like his blue light
she told him that one day blue would take yellow away

His heart trembled gently
with wild butterflies in his sight
when she looked at his blue with her eyes
and such a surprise for the color of those eyes were so
shining
and loving
and blue

so since that day
when any man says that yellow is the color of a true sun
he smiles broad and brightly
and holds his love tightly
and he says’
“So?
blue is the color of love”

For K.

Glorious Mistakes

My Dad was an awesome man. He was soft and understanding, but when it came to certain things he could be the military style parent. There were many speeches, I remember each of them and they have shaped the person I am today.

Not long ago I was asked to sell myself to someone and I didn’t know how… I had no idea of what my selling points were. The past while I went into hibernation, just to catch a breath and refrain from losing my mind completely – it was during this time that I thought about what it was that actually kept me from being able to step back, look at myself objectively and say, “this is what I am good at…”

I have spent a mere 22 years in the vortex of the living dead. Not presuming to know much more than the average 22-year-old female, my experience has taught me that people don’t really care about other people’s problems unless they are either family or really close friends. This is where this page fits into the scheme of things. As humans we will have our ups, our downs and perhaps our moments of stillness… But at the end of it all; we seek to find the happy ending to every sad story so that we may be able to hold on tightly, with hopefully and extra fill of faith.

I would like to share a story with you today. A story that is personal but worth hearing methinks…

To remove conflict of understanding… I have not always been dating women… And although this story takes place years after my coming out… I am still me… perhaps just a little dusted off and polished…anyhow;

The CBD of Pretoria (SA) was home to the greatest alternative club in Southern Africa. ‘Zeplin’s’ was a two-story building with 8 bars and 5 dance floors all within the genres and sub-genres of the alternative and goth scene. Just before my 18th birthday I was lucky enough to start working there. It was a dream come true. The neon paintings, the grandeur and old architecture, the friendly smiles and almost completely victorian sense of fashion along with the music that spoke in a thousand different ways to my soul – they all contributed to the home that Zeplin’s was and still is as I reminisce…

My Dad walked with me to my first day of work at Zeplin’s so that he could meet the people who would be in charge of me and to decide whether or not he really was going to let me work there . Now keep in mind that not many a parent will smile broadly upon walking in to a double story place filled with extravagant Goths and black walls.

All in all however; being as awesome as he was – my dad looked past the stretchers, piercings and tattoos… He ignored the heavy make-up and the black clothes, he walked me out and said that he believes this will be more than a home for me. I was proud then… I was proud of him and I was proud of me for being from him.

A week later I had moved up from bar-tending the quietest bar in the entire place which at that point was the ‘inferno’ bar to one of the 3 main bars… My first shift on the bar was scheduled for – Halloween 2008…

1 800 Goths later…

… To be continued

Nil Sa Saol

24/01/12 20:24

 Dear diary

‘I saw the gap again today, while you were begging me to stay….take care not to make me enter because if I do, we both may disappear’

There is no love in fear

My biggest fear is fear itself. Anger is not only an emotion but an anchor; an ointment to still the throbbing of our wounds. This tourniquet absorbs fear like a supplement and thus it grows and rules leaving no space for reason or compassion, yet it is passionate and loving.

We’ve fought many battles… It is a struggle as the self breathes down my neck hoping that I may slip up and give her gap to surface again. I can never merge with that self if I am to fulfill my curious purpose.

15/07/1994

Dear Diary

‘I will choke until I swallow… choke this infant here before me. What is this but my reflection? Who am I to judge or strike you down?’

There is no love in fear

There is no escaping the monsters although I’m not entirely sure that they are real. Toys are extras in this thriller of incapability. Strawberry is my doll; I hold her face right next to my own then turn to look into my mother’s mirror. Strawberry’s face is vibrant and bright next to my own dull reflection. Through the mirror I see how small I am compared to the vast space filled with scattered furniture… it’s been so long and she still hasn’t called, my own mother doesn’t want me. I smothered her with all my love so she left, to teach me a lesson, so that I may know anger and resentment.

It distorts; the face that used to smile is dark, my eyebrows clamp together and a tear rolls down my cheek. This chest starts throbbing and my throat is tight and lumpy, mimicking my fantasy as I seek the strength to choke this reflection to death. I know anger so where is she?

In my mind I smell her perfume; she reaches out, touches my face and the anger subsides.

She may be gone but I am hers and therefore I must take care of this girl and overcome the longing to hate, judge and hurt her petite infant.

But you’re pushing and shoving me.

You still love me, and you push it on me.’

“Gin!”

No! It can’t be.

This was it?

“Gin, honey? Mommy’s home!”

I am stumped and my throat tightens some more. In a split second the self takes over with an emotionless expression.

“Aww sweetie! Come here, mommy’s home now and she isn’t going anywhere.”

Most little minds would be thrilled, happy, crying. I want her to get away, to stop touching and smothering me, I have so many questions…

“Say something baby, come on… mommy’s missed you she loves you so much. Hug me now will you?”

She clutches onto my clothes and pulls me, she pushes me.

(At that instant I knew; I knew what fake smiles looked like… I knew how to lie!)

“It’s ok mommy!”

The anger burns through my veins as I slowly get closer to her with a hug.

“That’s ok mommy, I love you too!”

11/04/2009

Dear Diary

‘Rest your trigger on my finger

Bang my head upon the fault line.

Take care not to make me enter,

‘Cause if I do, we both may disappear.’

There is no love in fear

Memories are the music videos of our past, only the instrument that triggers them is not a remote, no one hears your mind slipping way back as the faint smell of humidity fused with medicine kills your perception of time. It thrusts you right back into the arms of that dark, daunting space of yourself as your half grown hands shove at your Dad’s lifeless body for the last time; the smell takes me right back to when I stood there not even wanting to hold her back… I needed her darkness and anger; I needed not to feel pain. It was an easy goodbye, no tears… only that invisible rope around my throat. I don’t remember the last time I told him that I love him, but he knows now…I really hope he does.

‘Slipping back into the gap again, I’m alive when you’re touching me…

Alive when you’re shoving me down.’

My pillar faded with the sunset today, he lay as obedient as I had ever seen him in the ambulance as they drove off. The night brought with it the comfort of the arms I had longed for. I look for anger, I turn my heart inside out to try and bring it out, but her hands soothe and nurture, and for this moment she loves me again. I can’t breathe as she suffocates me with the arms of peace and the breath of mist, she responds to my body and I am willing to gasp just like this for as long as I live.

‘But I’d trade it all for just a little bit of peace of mind’

Hers are the eyes I look into as I force my own to open up. Our love remains nothing but a stolen moment as she sits up and calls me ‘friend’. There will be no peace now in my mind or in my heart so the two of me rise and walk away.

26/02/2011

Dear Diary

‘Put me somewhere I don’t want to be;

Seeing someplace I don’t want to see;

Never want to see that place again…’

There is no love in fear

There are shadows along the wall and they seem almost synchronized. I recognize them and I move along knowing that one of them is mine. I close my eyes and I go back into the forest where the ‘Jedi’ mind pulls me out from the tombs of ‘Krom’*. My body feels pleasure while my spirit cries and I am afraid to stay in the forest, afraid to taint the purity I found. Self registers spirit and recognizes the undeniable bond between fog, magic, love and fear. Reality is hot, wet and dirty, oh but now I know… concrete, ancient truth.

‘If when; I say I may fade like a sigh if I stay, you minimize it anyway then; I must persuade you another way.’

A woman’s silence says much according to her circumstance. Shakespeare is resurrected through the movement of my lips while the self attempts to choke and kill contentment. I see the gap I have left and I know the war is inevitable just as I realize that this battle will be the last regardless of the outcome.

24/01/12 23:59

 Dear Diary

 

‘Staring down the hole again

Hands upon my back again

Survival is my only friend

Terrified of what may come’

There is no love in fear

Education is the artillery with a lifetime guarantee and language is the indestructible force barging bravely through borders, barriers and between cultures, enabling a leniency towards others and their spirituality or the lack thereof. The old self turns her back to me, and the new self synchronizes with the movements of the old. Fear is now a polka dot skirt around the two, walking hand in hand with certainty.

A rainbow is most prominent in the act of letting go, of coming to terms with one’s own heart which loves, hates and sins even in purity…until the colours mix to create our own shade of grey.

‘Just remember I will always love you; even as I tear your throat away, but it will end no other way’

 

Darkness is the product of light when light willingly goes back to sleep in order to heighten the appreciation for both in amongst all living things.

You must go where I cannot,
Pangur Ban, Pangur Ban,
Nil sa saol seo ach ceo,
Is ni bheimid beo,
ach seal beag gearr.
Pangur Ban Pangur Ban,
Nil sa saol seo ach ceo,
Is ni bheimid beo,
ach seal beag gearr.
  – **

Life is mist. Life cannot be without a beating heart, yet mist cannot be without fear, just as a heart cannot beat without love.

 

*Krom – ref: Irish Myhology
 
** Aisling’s Song – http://thesecretofkells.wikia.com/wiki/Aisling’s_Song
 
Ref: Tool – Pushit (Salival 2000) lyrics