Yesterday, the conversations flew around me. Flits of haughty sound and forced laughter. Somewhere, in the middle of the business deals masquerading as social upbraiding, he said something. The words were quickly hidden by snotty laughter and the squirming of ass kissery. I knew them to be something important. But I also knew his timing was intentional. He would not repeat those words again. Continue reading “Possible”
Most of the night was dreamless. The wind howled like mad outside much to my delight. All was resting. My alarm went off for me to turn the heat on. I did so, then went back to bed. I fell back asleep immediately and opened my dream eyes to the sight of two… people… arriving in my room. The thin white & grey fellow was struggling with two large, white duffle bags. One bag looked twice his size, yet he was able to drag two with him. Continue reading “Red and White”
Our mother had died and we were back at the house (that I was inheriting) after the funeral. The will had been read and all was settled, I thought. My dear (older) half-sister came in and began demanding I hand over this, and I hand over that, and I have to find a new place to live because she was taking over the house.
I was lucid from the moment she walked into the house, so I was watching to see where the dream was going to take this. At first, I thought her actions were over the top, even for her, until she said she was going to take me to court to regain her birthright as the oldest child of our mother.
After every medical scare my mother has had, she has threatened to do just this. This wasn’t an exaggeration, this was my half-sister doing as she usually does.
I laughed and told her to GTFO of my house, and to GTFO of my dream. “You can’t tell me what to do! I’m the oldest! This should all be mine!” She stepped forward and tried to push me. I backhanded her with delightful glee.
“Ah, Sis. I’m dreaming. I don’t know if you’re going to feel this in the morning, but I’m going to enjoy myself.” I call the baseball bat to my hand, and start swinging.
The physics felt a little too real. So I took a kitchen candle and set it on the counter. By will power alone, the candle was lit. There are NO kitchen candles in my mother’s house. Reassured I was indeed dreaming, I continued the gratuitous assault on my half-sister until the bat could take no more and shattered.
“Gee, Mom. If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were really pissed at Auntie.”
My daughter is standing in the kitchen doorframe. “A little bit pissed. A lot repressed rage. You only know a portion of what she has done to me in the name of ‘birthright’.”
“So. You’ve beaten her into an unrecognizable mess. Now what do we do?”
“Now, I wake up, and chuckle to myself for the rest of the day.”
And I did.
And I’m still smugly smiling.
Would I do such a thing in person? No. If I really wanted to hurt her that deeply, I have several choices.
- Report her for embezzling funds from her church. (She’s grifted from every church she has served/ministered at.)
- Let her current husband know she’s trying out different guys to replace him with. (Which is how she wound up with him in the first place.)
- Give her grandson the admin password to the wireless router at her house. (The last time he got hold of it, he gave it to his friends. Within days, all the computers were trojaned up, and three bank accounts were compromised.)
Just one of those will bring her world crashing around her ears, and without those pesky assault and battery charges.
For now, I smile with malicious glint when she comes over, and continue giving non-committal answers when she tries to privately grill me about the contents of my parents’ will. And continue looking forward to the day when I can leave all my bloodkin behind me once and for all.
Outside pressures can squeeze a tribe to form. Corrupt government. Bridge washout. Zombie uprising. Continue reading “Tribe”
So, the black shawl thing is finally starting to make sense. A close friend took a try at interpreting and was very close to the truth of it. As long as I was afraid, then yes, the voices on the wind was something to fear and hide from as she said. But I don’t think they are something to banish.
When I turned to confront the wind, my perception changed. When I stopped cowering and stood up to the wind, instead of threatening, they were encouraging.
I haven’t quite unraveled this (recurring) vision just yet. I was rudely interrupted by one of my depressive moments, and am catching up to where I left off.
I’m still having problems sleeping. But, hey, that goes with the territory. Someone mentioned I’m a Mystic-in-denial. Someone else that had been reading my blog posts from the beginning said I’ve been having “classic shaman calling” and I need to start getting with the program or my mental state will reverse and deteriorate.
A few have asked which gods I could turn to for support. Since my release (escape?) from Loki in August, I’ve had none that I could turn to as Patronus. While I do have a belief in the gods, my personal relationship with all the pantheons border on the fatally blasphemous. “I am my own.”, is a double-edged sword.
But, now I begin to blather and rant. I really just wanted to give a quick “catch up” before SOPA blackout day on January 18th. Even if my favorite websites will be up tomorrow, I’m going to treat it as Offline Day and see if I can play around with my favorite tools. I have a tarot deck to fully break in (Transparent Tarot), and some coyote teeth tchotckes to fully plan out and start building.
Normal is a setting on the dryer. A choice for shampoo and facewash. An arbitrary selection of attributes chosen for the same reason One Size Fits All. Continue reading “Normal”
For the past three days, if I close my eyes for more than five hot seconds, the following things come to mind. Where at first it was like a half-forgotten movie scene, now it is more an intrusive and overwhelming vision.
- Black shawl.
- Handful of suspicious powder.
- A sharp blade.
- Some strong shit.
- Some dark outdoors place in the middle of the night.
- Voices on the Wind.
What could possibly go wrong?
~breaks down and cries~
I need sleep, so bad. Dreamless, uninterrupted sleep. Maybe if I write this out, I can confine it into words like so much a nightmare.
The lights were off inside the small strip mall store. Some ambient light snuck past the window’s dark filtering and blocking sale signs. Just enough for a person to see where the counters were, but not enough for a person to see the drab colors of the walls and furniture.
All merchandise had been put away. The counters were bare. A showroom with numerous waist high islands and no chairs, it lay prepared for whatever scheme the next tenants were planning to spring onto a gullible and greedy public.
The door handle rattles. A shadow dominates just without the entrance. More rattling of the handle, with a barely gentle push on the locked door. The rattle ceases. Above the handle, the lock glows with a sudden red scribble of light.
The door opens. Continue reading “A Meeting Of Fellows”
Io Bacchus! Io Dionysus!
You wild eyed child wrapped in fire and ivy.
The discordant flutes play loud mocking the heavy maddening drums. Continue reading “The Maddening Night”
It took him longer to pick out the right color of thread, than it did to sew up the ruptured seam. The buttons came from an old handmade sweater that he had long ago outgrew. He buffed them back to shiny brightness and sewn them on the teddy bear’s face for eyes. The same sweater’s sleeves were transformed into little mittens, complete with little pompoms. Continue reading “New”