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Sat, Jun. 5th, 2004, 08:51 am
I never want to dream again.....

I had the oddest damned dream last night.  Rarely do I have a dream like this, i.e. non-recurring, non-precognizent.  Anyhow, it starts off that we're in my car (myself and two fscking annoying cousins) getting onto I-40.  I blink my eyes and we're in another state, just a few miles from the turn-off to my Grandparents' place. 
We pull in.  It's just my family (mom, dad & sis) and my aunt and her family (2 kids, hubby, & granddaughter).  Time skips again.  My Grandfather is driving the maroon minivan to somewhere.  My dad and I are studying this map that's got the city/county laid out in color coded sections.  We're arguing how to find a particular place.  Grandmother is getting fed up with the whole thing.  My cousins and sister are in the back cuttin' up and generally being idiots.
Somtime during all of this, I fall asleep.  I was almost actually sleeping in dreamtime as well, but I was aware, you know?  Anyhow,  I wake up when we get back home.  My mother wakes me gently to tell me that during our little escapade that my grandmother passed. 
I'm confused at first, then what she tells me sinks in.  Then I'm pissed.  I start madly tearing things apart.  I destroy my grandfather's home.  I realize that I'm going mad inside this dream with no escape except to wake up.  And thus, I do, but only because I cannot bare to watch myself self-destruct any longer.

Because I remember this and those emotions so fully, I doubt I'll sleep well for a while.  Perhaps only when shear exhaustion takes over...

Tue, Jun. 1st, 2004, 08:22 am
The things I find ...

I spent some time today going through a few things that I found the other day in a former residence, and I came across some old e-mails that I had printed and saved, way back when.  I was reading them this morning, and I found one from Tom O'Dowd, a pleasant young man from Scotland that I had a correspondence with through my Love@AOL ad (I was young and desperate *snort*). 

In any case, this delightful young man, after only speaking with me breifly about commonalities one afternoon, wrote a poem for me while looking at the picture I had placed with my add.  Mind you, this was a picture of me at seventeen, one to be used as my senior head for the yearbook. (I was 18 at the time I placed the ad, and it was the best I had available.)

Anyhow, here it is, since I wish to save it for all time:

Ruby Lips
Druidess, a fiery kiss, to softly your hear awaken.
As light lies, 'neath diamond ice, never to be foresaken.
Love rides a sailor's sigh, waves of pure emotion.
Oceans of our surrenduring, the dervrishes devotion.
Awesome, infinte, Sacred Heart, how sweet is our existence.
Now a Dragon strong in flight, then a lark in darkest night.
And here in humility, swooning in our rapture
Lover and Beloved
Oh, Wonder, Infinite, One

Beautiful, aye?  *sighs*  I sent an e-mail to the one listed on the printout.  I do hope he responds. 

Wed, May. 26th, 2004, 11:44 pm
'To the Prettiest One...'

I've spent some time thinking recently.  Okay, I'll admit it was just tonight on my ride to work, but some of these thoughts have been floating around in my head for a while now.  It's just tonight while I was thinking that they coalesced into a coherent form.  What brought all this on has been my reading of Neil Gaiman's American Gods and Robert Jordan's Wheel of Time series.  If you haven't read these, then go do it... NOW!  If you have, then I think you'll understand a little bit of what I've been thinking.

In Gaiman's exquisitely written novel, the Gods of the Old World now walk the New World.  Unfortunately, as times have come and gone, so to has the worship of these dieties in favor of the technological advances our world-society has created.  So, some of the Old Ones have decided to attempt to take back their due. 

What has this to do with what I've been thinking?  Well, I'll tell you.  These Old Gods have been slowly and slowly dieing off the face of this earth without the worship and adulation of their followers.  Oh, not that they haven't been able to live without it, for they were getting by; but many of them were unable to spend their eternity alone with the memories of days gone by.  And New Gods were usurping their places in peoples hearts and minds.  Gods of Technology--Computers, Television, the Information Super-Highway.  Gods of Oddities--Aliens, Men in Black, Government.  And I was thinking about how many people say that if you believe in something enough, it's bound to come true.  And I was thinking about how it's "the will behind the power" that makes magic [as in witchcraft] happen.   

I haven't quite made it through the book yet, and already I'm pointing fingers.  Sure, Eris tossed the apple into the beauty pageant inscribed 'To the Prettiest One', knowing what would take place.  She smirked, maybe even giggled, and then sat in a comfortable spot to watch the events as they unfolded.  I surely could see Mother Chaos inciting a riot between the Gods of Yesterday and the Gods of Tomorrow.  Ah.  I know who it is now.  In order not to spoil the suprise, I'll remain silent...for the moment.

I'm sure my rambling has you confused.  I know it does me.  But that is the beauty that is my Mother.  I call her the Great Creatrix, from whom the Big Bang was sparked, giving order to the maelstrom of Her womb.  I look about me, in our Age of Information, and see Her hand everywhere. 

Ah, the second half of my nightly musings.  Age of Information.  Age of Technology.  Industrial Age.  Iron Age.  Stone Age.  Mr. Jordan has it dead to rights.  When the final Age has come to pass, the cycle begins anew, with only disant memories and old myths to guide us through the motions as the Wheel begins it's next spin.  The Dragon rises to slay the Great Betrayer only to be slain; then he sleeps until it's time to do it again.

I'm beginning to believe that we're on the doorstep of our final age.  I'd call it the Age of Revelations, but that sounds like I'm a Fundie preaching Death and Damnation to All.  No.  Instead, I think I'll call it the Age of Cooperation.  The City of Atlantis had our level of technology or better before the oceans swallowed it whole.  Mark my words, on the eve of the formation of a world government, when peace reins, know that my Mother will be returning to Earth.  When we have sampled the fruits of our cooperation and togetherness, we will have nothing to offer Her, our creator.  She shall dash us upon the rocks of the sea.  Cast us to the very depths of the ocean.  Then She'll reform the void into a new world, new life for us all. 

Oh, hell.  I could pontificate on these things until that day dawns, I do believe.  But rather, what I mean to say is this:
             To my Goddess, Mother, Creator, Lover, I give thee a golden apple.  And it is
              inscribed KALLISTI.  You are 'The Prettiest One.'  And I am yours.

 

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