crushed creation

crushed. how i felt. this afternoon on the bus. on my way to see my drug dealer. and watching the humans around me, swirling like lemmings on a fly wheel. the feelings slid from my heart and sat in the pit of my stomach like a rotten meal.

crushed, i felt. and sick with sadness. thinking to self 'no lonelier have i felt in this adulthood than right now.' thinking to self 'now what?' pondering recent losses. the loss of truth. the loss of community. the loss of vocation. loss of dearest canine friend imaginable. does that spell the loss of purpose? for, i still ask myself, 'now what?' and, my psyche's teeming with questions and postulations and pondering the potential.

a swirling mass of unstable isotopes dancing in my head. and ... no one with which to reflect to reflect upon this confused tangle of life. but me. and, sometimes it just isn't enough. and, the love of my life? well, he's gone awol. gone awol into his cases of beer. gone awol into his hang over. gone awol into his hours of deep snoring slumber. hours. spent alone. with myself. and ... no one. why? how? how can a soul so deeply attached and committed to another feel such utter desolation?

the cusp of change. its barbed. and it hurts. and we're there - me and him. i feel it. i see it. its all around us. each moment burgeons with the future's possibilities. stunning. plethoric. unfathomably mammoth. like ... standing at the edge of the solar system. our solar system. looking into the blinding light of darkness. the blinding light of unknown. what lies ahead.

what lies ahead?

image originally uploaded by theronin

naked beginnings

welcome, me, to myself. i had a blog. the blog had followers. it seemed nice. only, i forgot somewhere along the way that the followers belonged to the blog. and not to me. egos seem steely and savage, even, when faced with the piquish sensation of external scrutiny. but when subjected to the sudden impact of rejection's brute force? egos shatter. into miniscule shards of seething loneliness. and these shards crumble. into nothingness. the nothingness of me.

and then followers bandy words like 'friend' about. it starts to feel exhilarating. and frightening. 'friend.' that's a threatening word. because it rarely lives up to itself. sort of like santa claus and the tooth fairy. and that god concept. does anyone really know 'friend' ... i mean, really? i wonder, y'know? and so ... the followers encroach. encroach. and it feels good. and it feels hurtful. and it puts me in a box. in a way. as followers seek to define me. label me. judge my moral certitude. while completely ignoring the message embedded in my carefully crafted posts.

ignore. ignore my message. ignore. ignore what i say. and then judge how i say it. ignore. and leave me feeling so desperately, nakedly invisible. ignore my message. and plump droplets of despair crash into my heart. with such a force of anguish. stunning anguish. it travels the circuitry of my bruised heart like some posionous spark. and the spark. its intensity grows as my body absorbs it. swallows it. dissolves it. my spirit feels dirty ... ugly ... infected. stained. in comparison. to yours. i feel. the old stains. mine. rising. to the surface. of my emotions. and, in that radiant shaft of glinting sunlight, i behold. myself. boldly. i behold myself.

myself. alone. alive. aberrant. a blinding helix of inherent instability. breathtaking to behold. noxious to inhale. corrosive to touch. myself. so many times crumpled up and tossed away. now, flinching from touch. refusing to surrender self. to trusting. anything. or anyone. cold to, but longing for, connection. some sort of outside connection. struggling to demystify this deep-seated need to belong. belonging drowns me. traps me. defines me. strangles me. rejects me. belonging rejects me. me - reject.

if i belong then i am vulnerable. if i belong i have surrendered my trust. bared the softest portion of my soul. to such undeserving creatures - homosapiens. i know you smell the weakness there. the blood, which boils and shrinks simultaneously around its lesions and disfiguring bruises. you smell it. you feel it. you taste it, as sheets of my hyperbolic anguish sweep across the battered pages of my soul. i know you. like all the rest. homosapien. just lusting for the blood of another weak soul. my soul. raped. by rejection.

image originally uploaded by melanie photo art

i plucked you away

originally uploaded by daniel morris

searing …soul crushing …relentless pain
smothering me
the fruit of my mothering …
plucked away from me …
by me ... by us
and reduced to a large plastic bag

he came to collect your belongings today
the man walked out with everything … you …
casually, like a bag of garbage

the door closes behind the man with the bag
leaving me imprisoned in my sorrow
an image of you, etched in my heart
elfin child - soft ivory skin, long chestnut lashes
intoxicating squeals of laughter

each day that passes
without you
the deeper and more palpable my loss becomes
my respirates
i do not feel alive

crumbling grace and scoured petals - (repost)

i awoke to the sensation of something slimy touching me. touching me. first my hand. this pulsing, hardened thing. pulsing and slimy. and then ... then other places. i felt that slimy pulsing hard thing rub against my tummy, my chest, and .... i have this image of the thing in my mouth. gagging. quietly gagging. and i carry this image of the thing in my head. and my body remembers that i saw the thing alot. alot. and my body remembers that it hurt. that it felt ugly. made me feel ugly. inside. and out. and flawed.

i remember you sitting on me once on the toilet. you would take it upon yourself to invade my privacy every chance you got and touch me. touch me. coz you couldn't keep your fucking hands off me. and your fucking dick in your pants and away from me. were you wearing pants? i don't remember seeing them. did you visit kay's room too? (before she died, she said you did things.) was that before or after your visits to my room? do you think mum bought that 'checking on the girls' excuse all along? or is that why you liked to stay up later than mum?

i know you spied on me ... lurked about ... (among other things) while i slept, or pretented to sleep. did you know? that sometimes i pretended? i know you did things. ugly things. things involving your penis. i remember having bladder infections. severely. all the time. i remember the way of our household. doting, touchy-feely, controlling father and emotionally absent mother. and, i remember what mother said to us girls: 'i don't love you or you' ... 'i'm gonna kill myself and it'll be all your fault' ... is this why? is this why she said those things? because she knew?

i remember your rules and control. of us, your girls. YOUR baubles ... existing solely for your pleasure. i remember how your forbade us from going to sleepovers. and from having any of our own. i remember the visits. flashes. bits. shards. and the way you owned me. invaded me. violated me. my body remembers. remembers the sensation of you, violating me. scouring my tender, frail flower. scouring my insides. imagine steel wool scouring an orchid. that's what it felt like. SCOUR. pieces of me flaked away with each thrust. you erased me ... eroded me. with your slimy sandpaper thing. with your sandpaper lust.

pieces of my heart flaked away.

to nothingness.
again. and again. and again.
my heart flaked away to nothingness.
painful. searing. desolate.
you reduced me to nothingness.

i hold no grudge. i feel no desire for revenge. but i have closed my heart to you. and i feel repulsed by your touch. and your desperate, silent pleas for mercy. i hold no grudge. i feel no desire for revenge. but i do not surrender forgiveness. and i never will. your grace grotesquely crumbles. and i feel pangs of sadness. for you. for me. for what could have been. if only. if only. and now? what do you expect? how dare you expect anything! that's what my bruised raven heart cries out, in the dark of night, when my body cannot sleep. you took a gentle dove in your hands. and you pressed. suffocated. choked the life from it. and your grace grotesquely crumbled.

and flakes ... of you ... of me ... fall, piercing, sinking. gashing at my sanity.

eviscerating my pysche.

images: 1. ghostbones , flickr, 2. artist unknown 3. fernando graphicos, flickr

**********************

this is a repost from the old place - originally posted 12.09.06

i'm so f*cking sick of this hypocrisy!!!

I have heard, in the past several days, so much fucking BULLSHIT about the seal hunt ... for instance: There’s Nothing More Humane Than A Spike Through The Skull

first, i will say you all need to get your facts straight. here is where you will find a worthy news source providing the TRUE facts surrounding the seal hunt. DON'T BOTHER COMMENTING TO THIS POST UNLESS YOU HAVE INFORMED YOURSELF ON THE ISSUE! Reading wires on Yahoo News or reading that crap that IFAW puts out IS NOT INFORMING YOURSELF anymore than reading the National Inquirer is! get your fucking facts straight before shooting your mouthes off! clearly, you don't know what you're talking about - and, frankly it PISSES me off!

i just want to point out that all those photos of the white coats, shown in relations to the seal hunt are quite misleading. the killing of white furs happens to be illegal, and has been since 1987. pehaps if you actually made an effort to learn about this you would sound more informed and intelligent.

and, while we are on the topic of killing young animals, perhaps you did not know that those veal cutlets you love so much are actually young cattle. did you know that these are cattle that have been deprived of grass all their young lives, kept in the dark, and fed a diet of milk powder? likely not ... you all sound like the type that thinks veal comes from your grocer's freezer! well, hun - think again! are you hooked now? you wanna learn more?

as for the 'carnage' of it all. how hypocrtical. have you been to a slaughter house? do you know how they slaughter all that steak, bacon, ham and veal cutlet? well here's a lesson for you meat lovers out there who think the seal hunt is carnage.

pigs are electrically shocked on their heads and cattle are stunned by a blow to the head with a bolt gun, the throat is slit, and they get hung up by their hind legs to bleed out. the blood that they bleed out is used to make sausage! and i will spare you the details of how pigs get their canine teeth, their tails and their testicles cut off - without any anesthetic - even before they get to the slaughter house! think about this next time you enjoy your bacon and eggs, will you?

and this is routine animal husbandry and meat processing - ROUTINE!

so - think about that, all you outraged animal lovers ... next time you bite into that juicy steak or burger. We are no better that the seal hunters and that's that f*cking truth!

Oh yeah ... and before you worry about what Stephen Harper is smoking you may want to be worried about why the jack ass who is running your country thinks he can leak classified information to bolster support for his illegal war!

yes, virginia, there is withdrawal ...

... when u stop smoking pot -- cold turkey. and yes, virginia, it feels a lot like heroine withdrawal. and yes, virginia ... it is worse than anything i've experienced in a very long while .... possibly in my whole life. labour pains sucked, but i would do them again. this --- i do not want to endure this EVER again.

so ... what did we learn from this? well, virginia, one can be become physically dependent on THC ... hmmm - who knew?

bright lights and shadows

okay. so that last post was lame. i admit it. LAME. i seem unable, of late, to access all those shadows - the monsters and demons as i called them - and write about them in any meaningful way. does this mean i have let go of some of this stuff? i dunno. likely its not that easy ... but who knows, maybe it is? i just know that at this moment i cannot really relate to that sadness, that angst, that i clung to for awhile now.

something has happened ... some of you may know, the rest of you don't need to ... an encounter, a connection, with a person. it has not just filled a void in my heart, it has opened my heart to possibilities i never considered before. suddenly, the sun shines on an entirely new corner of my life. am i on a cusp. i feel. its thrilling.

i can feel the sadness, the grief, the loneliness fall away from me, just the same way sand falls thru my fingers. i feel hope, gentle, yet enduring like one of those long spring rains. something, someone, has reached inside me and quelled that burning and restless longing that has seized me for ... well, forever. how does someone do that? i did not think it was possible. i think i've found the missing piece of myself.