Dec. 8th, 2010 12:08 pm
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Well, I'm cleaning up house today. Most  items I pick  up sends a pang of hurt straight through to my core. S'gonna be a rough day.
mythago: (Default)
I sail on...

Sailing through the waters of life, I had found that most coveted treasure.
honesty to a fault, compassion beyond measure, loyalty beyond doubt, tolerance beyond reason and a level of maturity - without a loss of a child-like wonder... all wrapped up in one beautiful shining package.

A noble heart, blazing with an inner fire akin to my own.

I lost that treasure.

Was it life's circumstances, an inconsistent wind, the promise of another shore?
Or, perhaps, the treasure was never really mine...

I sail on,

finding comfort where it may lay.
My treasure is both near and, yet, on some distant horizon - within my grasp yet, out of my reach.
a pale reflection of its once great luster.

I sail on,

Looking for a port to weather the storm within.

I shall sail on,

For as long as it takes - looking on pale reflections with remembrance

'Home is where the heart is'

They say you can never truly go home. 
mythago: (Default)
In investigative work, their are two "golden chalices" one tries to glean in order to piece together a mystery: Timeline of events (from the onset of said mystery) & and a new, but suddenly consistent variable (who's emergence coincides with the onset of said mystery). When one has both, there is suddenly a clear framework (hypothesis) towards the rest of said investigation. The other details will either fit the puzzle, or they won't.

This process applies to just about any conundrum...  Murder mystery, scientific experimentation, behavioral analysis, etc.

It's amazing how often I lose sight of this and usually have to have my ass smacked hard by the wet fish of hind-sight.
mythago: (Default)
I deserve the same loyalty, trust, respect, effort, devotion and *faith* that I give.

I am not a waypoint between things old and things new. Nor am I the "man on the shelf".

I deserve to be seen, heard, and felt, and not just when it's convenient. I do not deserve to be neglected or overlooked.

I deserve the above, not based on surroundings or circumstances, but rather on who I am as a person.


Nov. 20th, 2010 03:46 pm
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Some days, I'm fine. I can deal. Everything is manageable and my center is within reach. Then there are days when all I want to do is shout and lash out, logically... but with venom.

I don't like anger much. I hear some people do, but I'm not one of them. I find it mostly unproductive and wasteful. I know that "letting it out" from time to time is considered healthy. However, with the anger levels I'm dealing with at the moment, I don't see how that's possible.I'm either A) going to hurt someone's feelings, or B)Damage my integrity by saying something I don't mean in the "heat of the moment". Besides, it has become obvious that words aren't going to change anything (angry or otherwise).

Anyone up for some fisticuffs?
mythago: (Default)
Let me not to the marriage of true minds
Admit impediments. Love is not love
Which alters when it alteration finds,
Or bends with the remover to remove:
O no! it is an ever-fixed mark
That looks on tempests and is never shaken;
It is the star to every wandering bark,
Whose worth's unknown, although his height be taken.
Love's not Time's fool, though rosy lips and cheeks
Within his bending sickle's compass come:
Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks,
But bears it out even to the edge of doom.
If this be error and upon me proved,
I never writ, nor no man ever loved.

-Shakesphere sonnet 116
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Scribblin snippets

These are some excerpts from the afore mentioned short story. The original was lost so, I am having to piece it together from memory, and this is what I have so far...

Alice stood in front of the mirror staring, wide eyed, but not looking.. No, never looking. She rocked to a slow steady rhythm side to side, the cool tile under her bare feet a peculiar comfort to her. Her Jaw was a little slack, her posture a little slumped, her head a little leaning… a little forward. No! She snapped back, looking left and right, to see if anyone noticed her reaction. She loved mirrors, always had, even now. She could keep herself from looking, but she also knew she could not, should not get too close.
She hated this place. In all its white sterile-ness. The green scrubs, the white gowns, the squeaky shoes… To many places for him to hide. She balled up her hands into fists and pressed them against her temples. She sqwunched her face up tight. It must be time for my meds, Alice thought. She only thought of him when it was time for her pills... Pills… A pill to make you happy, a pill to make you sleep. A pill to make you small inside, a pill to make you meek. Eat me! Drink me! She started to pound her temples with her fists lightly. It had been years since her last hallucination, but the voices still came from time to time.
"Alice?", the familiar voice of doctor Weiss emanated from behind her. She turned. Her white gown was clinging to her adolescence in ways that made her uncomfortable in front of this man. He was short, a little round, with a bushy mustache and small glasses. He wore white too, but his was a jacket not a gown. He carried a clipboard, she noticed.
Alice lost track of her days often, but the clipboard in hand meant it was a talky day… talky, talky. Talk about what you see, Alice. Talk about what you hear, Alice. Talk about the dead mother, Alice. Talk about what he did to you…
"I think it's time for my meds", Alice said, not making eye contact. "It is time for my meds, isn't it?" This time she looked up. Doctor Weiss' look of concern melted into a smile. He looked down at his watch.
"You know, I do believe your right", he said with to much of a smile. "Lets go get your meds, and then its off to session, sound good?" Alice nodded, her stringy dark hair barely moved.
"Good", he looked at his clipboard as he said this and then his watch, "now hurry up, won't do to be late".
Alice started shuffling her way to the meds counter. He always said that… every time. won't do to be late! She wished he wouldn't say that. She hated when he said that.
* * *
Alice woke to the sounds of scurrying. She could still feel the effects of her sleeping pills and sat up in a world made of jell-o. She heard the noise again, a sort of scratching-scurrying sound on the tile floor in the hallway. She suddenly felt very cold. Her heart started to pound as she stared wide eyed at the little safety glassed window in her door.
S'just the meds getting the better of me, she thought, happens sometimes.. S'nothin to be scared of.
The scruffling was getting closer and Alice could hear another noise tagging along. It was the sound of an animal scenting its food. This was a big something, however, and Alice was having difficulty calming herself down.
Then she saw the shadow. First it filled her little window with inky black. Then it did something much worse. It stayed there.. Scruffling and snuffling slightly. Trying to look into the dark of Alice's room. Alice couldn't help but remember the saying "when one stares into the darkness for long, eventually.. it stares back". She gave out a quiet, maniacal giggle. All the meds, and all the counseling, and all the books, and all the preaching and this… thing… this hallucination, was right outside her door. Five years of her life in this pit, and for what?
Alice got mad.
She stood up on her bed and with clenched fists yelled, "What are you waiting for you son of a bitch?! Come on in and I'll rip your fucking head off!"
The shadow accepted her invitation. It walked through the door which was no door, and entered the room which was no room. It was an animal to be sure. It had a large gaping maw, filled with jagged teeth, which dripped with smoky shadow stuff. Long, pointy but droopy ears clung to the sides of its head. It walked on two legs, like it was supposed to walk on all four but was embarrassed to. Its body was the kind of black the even darkness falls into, and was a good foot taller than any man. It stood with a hunch, either because of the low ceiling or the weight of own malice.
It's eyes… Alice was petrified with rage, but could not bring herself to look into those eyes. It moved forward. She couldn't tell where its claws ended and its inky hands began, but they were reaching for her now. Alice screamed and lunged at the beast. In one swift motion it caught her and threw her into the wall. She felt, and heard the sound of, breaking glass as she hit.
There's no mirror in my room! she thought, they don't allow it… I'm finally, totally losing it.
Alice's ears were ringing and her sight dimmed. She reached back and found a shard of glass that, of course, was not glass. Clenching it tight enough to split her skin, she swung with all her strength and in one stroke cut through the its smoky black neck, severing the beasts head. There was a loud crack, followed by the sound of glass raining all around her. Alice's world of green scrubs, cool tile floors and men with clipboards melted out from under her as her vision faded to black.
Alice fell.


These are a couple of poems from a short story I am re-writing. I have been insipred by someone (gee I wonder who :P) to share some of my writings in my blog. I do welcome any comments or critisism.

Rhyme of the Cheshire cat.

..Around and ..round it goes.
A flat and blackened thing,
Filled with a word or two,
This is my gift to you..

Happy to be encumbered
A nail or two, or three
Make holes to stop the bleeding
This is my gift to me!

Will you bend, will you break?
When you smile, does it ache?
Nothing came to good , or stayed the same

Wear the mask when you laugh?
Are you whole, or are you half?
Show me now your rows of tombstone teeth

For I tell you honestly
In your mad calamity
Where lips and mind are out of pace

It..s must be hard to pretend
that remembering was your friend
When you look the looking glass in the face..

Alice..s answer.

..Around and ..round it goes
A light but sturdy thing
Filled with a thought or two
That is my gift to you.

Unbound from my fetters
Opened eyes so I may see
Shed tears to stop my bleeding
This is my gift to me..

Tears welled up in her eyes, and with determination she continued.

..I bent, I did not break
When I smiled they called me fake
But something came to good all the same

It happened all to fast
I..m afraid it will not last
But every day, I give myself my name

So maybe, in the end
In this I should depend
that the whole of my everything, does its thing in me

For as crazy as it sounds
This one thing I have found
I can choose, and that..s what makes me free!..

Cat leaned back on the mushroom, eyeing Alice critically. He took long thoughtful puffs on his hooka.
..Don..t even.., Alice said with a crooked smile. ..That was good, and you know it..
Cat grinned his grinny-est grin, and with a wave of his hand a looking glass appeared before her. Alice could see the hospital instead of her own reflection. Cat leaned forward, still grinning, and rested his chin on the top of the mirror and said.

..Care to.. Dare to, join the dance?..


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