mind on a fine line...

a snapshot here, a snapshot there… all the little film clips your mind plays in an instant to process what goes on in your psyche on a daily basis or at a moment's notice… most of these never come to fruition, most just play like a loop, over and over, either as comfort or torture… a touch… a sound… a scent… all haunts you like a ruthless dream… a dream so cruel as it is exquisite...

the castle in the sky holds the images of a smile meant just for you, a kiss upon the neck in the moonlight, the feel of warm breath across your cheek while in an embrace, a hand up your arm, along your neck, fingers threaded through your hair… your minds’ eye can create the most fantastic imagination fooling every one of your senses into believing you are in a reality so surreal you can taste it when in fact you are merely in the midst of a unreality that leaves you gasping for breath, grabbing at your sheets when you open your eyes and feeling as if someone ripped the rug out from under you, leaving you lonely…

but then, what is worse… the images that taunt and haunt you in your dreams or seeing that one person just out of your reach smiling, talking, walking, pausing to look into the sky for a moment while they close their eyes to enjoy the sun’s warmth…? that one touch when he reaches out for your hand to wish you a good day and covers your hand with the other, enclosing yours in his… when he talks, he speaks to you as if you are the only one there even when the two of you are amongst hundreds in a crowd…

up close, you notice the things that you know will be the details that will slowly and surely drive you nuts but completely fascinate you… the myriad of color flecks that make up the unusual color of his eyes… the length of his eyelashes and how they feather out and shadow across the skin below his eyes… the smooth shape of his lower lip, the small cut in his upper lip giving it the perfect cupid’s bow… the clean-shaven planes of his jaw line and his face… the dark hair upon his head that looks like its soft as puffy clouds on an early spring day with smooth waves like the ripples of a smooth pond after a stone is tossed in… his voice has this tone, this timbre that washes over you like a soothing balm, enveloping you in rich velvet; it makes your skin prickle and can bring tears to your eyes… and then he smiles and it transforms his whole face into something so blindingly beautiful you find it hard to look away and find it harder to keep looking…

there’s a scene in the movie ‘love actually’ where a guy goes to his best friend’s house on christmas and his friend’s wife, the object of his affection or obsession, whichever way you choose to look at it, answers the door… the guy proceeds to play a christmas song along with showing her flashcards declaring his feelings for her… upon completion of this display, he smiles and then gathers his things and leaves… seconds later, she runs after him, catches up to him and kisses him… they smile at each other, some unknown declaration passes between them and they part ways… he walks away and says out loud with a content look upon his face, “enough… enough…”

i have my torturous moments and will surely have them for some time… my conscience and my beliefs will be sure to remind me of the detrimental effects of my thoughts… the thoughts of a black spot upon my soul is frightening as it is heartbreaking… though i will never utter a word of my thoughts aloud, they are spoken loud and clear in the written word and it seems to help me in processing it… the seven sins are there, one waiting to step in, waiting for that in that gives the others the access to my soul…

although i would never make light of anyone with any sort of mental illness or suffers from any sort of disorder of that family and in light of my own anxieties and 'quirks', it makes me wonder if my mind is of that of a fanatic, a schizophrenic, some sort of delusional manic… i have often read that most of the purest minds, intelligent minds and beautiful minds are those that run a fine line between that of sanity and madness… is that what i may be a part of…?  am i slowly slipping into the waiting arms and throes of a psychosis with the obsession of an untouchable guiding my way, making my trip comfortably numb… enough… enough… or will there ever be an “enough”…?

in the garden of good and evil..

“I do not do the good I want, but I do the evil I do not want.” (Romans 7:18)

the more you want what you can’t have, the more you desire it… think about the prohibition of alcohol in the 1920’s; rendering the sale and consumption of alcohol illegal… the desire for the consumption of alcohol was so great, people resorted to bootlegging alcohol leading to a whole network of an organized crime syndicate that controlled the blackmarket of the desired beverage…

psychology has a term for this and it’s called the “forbidden fruit effect” or the “romeo and juliet effect”… we’ve all heard the stories related to both of these topics… adam, eve, the serpent and the apple… romeo, juliet, a bitter family feud and crashing a party… each scenario or such similarities have given us such sayings like, “the forbidden is sure to be sweeter” or “the more forbidden the fruit, the sweeter the juice”…

here i sit in the early morning hours on palm sunday trying to figure out how to confess my thoughts during the next reconciliation day… i cannot even think of which commandment or commandments i am breaking it would fall under… i know it is sure to be a sin, surely mortal, definitely not a venial sin… surely one of the *mournful cello music playing off in the distance* “seven deadly sins”… those are the sins that are transgressions which are fatal to spiritual growth and progress (the really bad ones that can supposedly turn your soul black and earn you an eternity in hell, not even a pitstop in purgatory)…

lust of the flesh: lust, sloth, gluttony… lust of the eyes: greed… pride of life: pride, anger, envy... it is said that once you give into one of these seven sins, the other six are more that ready to seep into your soul… within our own mind, we know that there are those dark shadows within our heart that make those sins beckon to us like the sweetest honey or call to us like the sirens posed upon the rocks to passing sailors ultimately luring them to their deaths..

i came across an explanation for sins and vices… although somewhat similar, there is a base, intrinsic difference… sin is basically an omission, like a ‘white lie’ or a violation, sort of like a speeding ticket, but against your virtues… now a vice, those are the tricky guys… they are like building blocks to one’s character, like a trait such as kindness, humility, compassion… those are rooted at the soul of one’s being, it makes one who they are..

for eons, as told through legends and myths, there is a constant struggle between good and evil, between light and dark… where you have virtues, you have sins… when reading more about sins, the forbidden fruit and things your shouldn’t have or do… it is all a vicious cycle: forbidden fruit, sin, forbidden fruit, sin and round and round it goes, where it stops, nobody knows…

speaking of the spiritual aspect of the sin/forbidden fruit side of my struggle, the human nature side of it is about the basic want of wanting what you can’t have… strangely, it’s related to basic curiosity and surprisingly, reverse psychology… in the case of curiosity is the greek myth of pandora and the box zeus told her not to look in to… she wanted to look, but knew she wasn’t supposed to by order of the king of all the gods… the box was pandora’s forbidden fruit… a strong sense of anxiousness and an overwhelming sense of curiosity finally got the best of pandora and she opened it thus letting out of the box all the scourge upon the earth…

one part of my own character is to internally analyze everything within my own world and analyze that of which i feel i have control over outside of my world… every which way i analyze it, the outcome comes to nothing... this struggle, this war i am waging within my heart and soul is a daunting one, but i am accepting of it knowing it is silently fought for naught… it involves a person whose soul and spirit is vibrant and bright it is almost blinding, their voice is so passionate when they speak, even on the most mundane of topics, you feel as if you hang on their every word, their mannerisms are so kind and gentle, their laughter and humor utterly genuine…

one might even say to give in to taking a bite of your forbidden fruit is to be careful of what you wish for, you may not like it as in the case of pandora's box… “an indulgence or a pleasure that is illegal or is believed to be immoral. “ as defined in freedictionary.com is what forbidden fruit means… most of us attribute this to adam and eve and the serpent in the garden of eden… but in my internal battle, there is no adam, there is no eve and there is no garden of eden… the forbidden fruit and the wars of sins and vices over virtues will rage on silently until the day good triumphs over evil and prayer triumphs over self-analysis..

der märchenkönig

For a split second, the breath seems to still and the heart seems to take a temporary hiatus and only the eyes and the brain seem to register..  The eyes take in the portrait of an unknown man..  I guess the saying ‘to take your breath away’ seems to ring true in this moment in time..  In a way, it is kind of amusing to find yourself with the feelings bordering on what is so oddly referred to as an ‘ historic crush’..

My eyes were set upon a picture of a young man whose features can only be described as 'beautiful, stunning'..  After a brief period of time spent staring at him, I realize the photograph was taken in 1874..  Thick, slightly arched brows..  Thick, wavy hair that defies a comb but lends itself to make the man more endearing..  Eyes, that in the black and white photo, appear to be of a pale color; my mind begins to color them: a rich blue, a liquid silver, a watery green..  It has been written that some said his eyes were blue, others have said they were steel grey..  Nonetheless, they were intense, piercing and haunting; the windows to a soul that was conflicted, tortured and alone, to say the least..

Several pictures later, quite a collection is logged in my memory..  A tall, slender man in a uniform..  A man seated in the company of others, but his sheer presence seems to cast a shadow upon his companions..  A close-up picture that seems to capture not only a man in his youth, but it captures a sadness, a solitude that is still felt over 125 years later..  I soon come across a photo of a casting of bronze of his right hand and a death mask..  Even in death, he is still breathtakingly handsome..

Wilhelm of Hess (l), Prince Otto (c) and King Ludwig II (r)

He is King Ludwig II of Bavaria..  Known as the Swan King, the Fairy-Tale King and the Mad King, he was born in 1845 to Crown Prince Maximillian and Princess Marie of Prussia..  At the age of two, he became the crown prince when his grandfather, the current king at the time, abdicated the throne in favor of his son after much pressure..  After a short illness, his father dies an, at the age of eighteen, he was a king..  Although he was not fully ready to accept the responsibility placed on his shoulders, he became Bavaria’s most beloved monarch and is still to this day..  During his reign, he promoted such public figures as Richard Wagner and built the famous Neuschwanstein Castle though his desire to build romanticized, picturesque castles nearly bankrupted him and Bavaria..

 

Then, just shy of his 41^st birthday in 1886, he dies under very mysterious circumstances while out alone on a walk with his doctor..  His death was ruled an accidental drowning though some say it was a suicide, others say it was murder..  Official cause of death has been challenged for well over a century and has spawned many conspiracy theories..

A memorial cross at Lake Starnberg to mark the spot where King Ludwig's body was found.

 Whatever circumstances lead to this man’s death, it abruptly ended the life and soul of a strong, yet stirring, fragile man who loved music, the arts, architecture to near obsession, who possessed a brilliant mind and had an aura about him that many have said was ethereal, powerful and ultimately tragic..  I was not born for another 83 years, but during those years and in my lifetime thus far, he has lived up to one line he had written to his closest friend and cousin, Empress Elizabeth, “I wish to remain an eternal enigma to myself and to others.  “  Of the many wishes Ludwig II has so desired, I believe this one had been granted during his lifetime and has preserved this man into history for the ages..

It has been over 126 years since this man's death and yet there is no real proof of what happened that day which lead to his unfortunate demise..  Why is it too much to ask what happened..?  Why not reveal the proof of how he was murdered or reveal the proof if it was indeed a bonafide suicide..?  Anyone involved with a cover-up in either declaration is long dead and why not let this man's soul rest, let him and his legacy live in peace..?

and the fat lady has sung..

no one desires to be in a place or in a predicament one does not want to be in.. no one chooses to be put on a line, forced to make a choice.. i was taught that you choose where you want to be, whether by your own fault or choice.. this also relates to dilemmas.. a dilemma is not a great place to be.. i have come to a point where i must make a decision and that decision not only affects my life, but others.. it is a decision, not taken lightly and once executed, changes so many facets of my daily life..

it is sort of a domino-effect.. one domino falls, causing another to fall, another and another until all dominoes are down, the playing field is leveled.. although it is a scene of disaster, chaos and destruction, it is the most advantageous vantage point from where i stand.. there is nothing in the way to cloud or block my judgment, nothing to keep me from doing what i do best: protecting a precious one..

a friendship terminated, intersecting lives now severed and a sad, heavy heart are all part of the orders for the day.. how do i proceed..? how do i make the loss more tolerable..? when does the daily life return to a somewhat normal state..?

a state of being tolerant is what is preached to us from childhood.. you are to be tolerant of the ignorant ways of others, you are to be tolerant and 'take the higher road' when someone has wronged you, you are to be tolerant of stupidity.. we are told to be tolerant of so many intolerant things it makes me wonder how we can become a person of morals and values when you spend most of your time and life policing the morals and values of others..

i feel there is a time when being tolerant is just not acceptable.. i have to draw the line in the sand and have made a promise to not cross it because the safety and well-being of a most precious life is questioned.. it is that state of questioning that has led me to this uncomfortable place of a dilemma..

i have experienced many dilemmas in my lifetime to this point, unfortunately there are sure to be many more to come.. yet, despite the time of day, time of year or whenever it may come, and at the end of the day, the solution to a dilemma is usually one that you know is not one you are going to like, either way.. it all boils down to this: the solution is final, the curtain has closed, the proverbial fat lady has sung..

ain't that a kick in the head.. if only..

it starts with no warning or with a bit of an unusual feeling.. sort of like when something just does not feel right.. then, the little fester begins.. a twitch.. a tingle.. a tiny shock.. feelings of being heavy, feelings of dizziness.. the sparkles dance before your eyes or the fog rolls in just in certain spots.. instead of the pleasant scent of roses or jasmine, the smell of cinnamon, the smell of cloves or the smell of freshly tilled dirt invade.. the stomach tightens.. the light is intense.. darkness is like a warm bath, soothing the pain of a hard days' work away, cradling like a baby in soft linens..

once all is in full bloom, time holds the cards.. while in its grasp, its fateful clutches, mercy is a luxury.. a heartbeat feels like a bass drum at a Tool concert, a caress feels like a scorching flame across bare flesh, the desire and intense craving for loneliness eclipes that of the need for a cool drink of water on a hot day..  words, once spoken so eloquently and with ease, are unrecognizable, garbled and labored..  the eyes, once so clear and sharp, now struggle to make sense of the surroundings.. while in its throes, completely at its mercy, unable to walk away unscathed, praying for released from its clutches..

what is it i speak of..?  the divine sensation of love..?  the passionate agony of ecstacy..?  the hopeless feeling of grief..?  only if it were that simple, only if it were that easy.. the pain is all around, hopeless in its grasp, aware of what is transpiring once it begins, helpless to stop it.. it takes a physical toll, a mental toll, an emotional toll.. not only on you, but on those around you who are equally helpless to stop it..  once again, what is it i speak of..?

it is simple and not so simple.. one episodic moment in the throes of a migraine..

the enigma..

to me, it is a puzzling word all in itself.. no surprise the word itself means 'riddle'.. to quote an entry from the website, dictionary.com (my favorite dictionary/thesaurus website, by the way), the origin & (very) short history of the word enigma is as follows: "mid-15c., from L. aenigma "riddle," from Gk. ainigma, from ainissesthai "speak obscurely, speak in riddles," from ainos "fable, riddle," of unknown origin.

synonyms of this word include bewilderment, conundrum, parable.. i am sure you are wondering where i am going with this... but, in time, the enigma of which i speak, will reveal itself in due time.. in the way i think, i usually analyze my thoughts before they come out, which usually leads to most people not understanding a word i am saying or think that i should be committed to a modern-day version of bedlam..

so, here is an attempt at trying to explain what i am talking about.. as i get older, i've run across people from my past that have offered some of the most impressive, humbling compliments to me about me.. i wonder what i had done to them in the short time our paths crossed to be thought of in such an inspiring, thoughtful light.. i have done nothing extraordinary, nothing i would consider inspiring.. i listen, i offer encouraging words, lend a hand when needed..  yet, when i think of myself, i am often moody, often unapproachable, live within my own self-imposed fortress trying, sometimes in complete vain, to avoid all contact with other humans..

two different people residing in the same corporeal body..?  is that possible..?  i thought that was how a schizophrenic may be described (no offense to people who are afflicted with this horrible condition and may science one day conquer it so they may have a chance at a normal life).. have i become an enigma..?  a person that is puzzling, a paradox and a riddle and an otherwise inscrutable, mysterious person.?  why would someone be inspired by a riddle..?

as i write this, my mind is already analyzing the sematics involved in what a riddle is.. after thinking about it, i have come to a conclusion that a riddle is words, that when put together in some interesting, convoluted fashion, makes no sense yet actually has a meaning which, under further analysis, sheds light on something that once held no meaning and thus rendering it thought-provoking..

am i person that projects an image i want people to see as opposed to the one that lurks beneath the surface..?  am i a fraud, a facade, a pretender..?  i have no idea which.. i have days when i cannot decide whether i want tea, hot chocolate or a peanut butter-n-jelly sandwich and yet i am told i inspire.. could it be that i am uncomfortable accepting a compliment..?  but how can one accept a compliment of such a magnitude without becoming an arrogant, conceitied sort..?

so, i sit here on a beautiful day, wondering what i have done and wondering why i should be worthy of such a thing..  perhaps that is another riddle in many riddles i will come across and attempt to decipher during my lifetime, whether it is a short one or a long one (the women in my family have a tendency to life really long lives so i many have many, many years left to ponder this *ha* conundrum)..

a day in life..

has there ever been a day when you have come pretty much face to face with your mortality..? you wake up one morning, go about your day, all the while knowing you are climbing the ‘hill’ to becoming *scream* 50..! yet, on that very day, you do something you have done for years and years.. but by the end of that day, you find yourself fighting for your life. you sit back and think, “how is this possible? “

on the other end of that thought, you are unknowingly on a collision course with someone you have never met before.. a nameless, faceless person.. in an instant, that person will change the very course of your life. they woke up that morning, ate breakfast, got into their car, drove to work, blah, blah, blah.. pretty much the same as what you did.

what makes this day different..? what makes this day the day you come face to face with your mortality..? you make a wrong move, make a bad judgment call, happen to be in the right place at the wrong time..? you, in essence, screw up.

you feel yourself falling, flying, floating.. your thoughts are on your child.. did you talk to them today..? they know you love them, right..? is your dad or mom going to be mad..? how will they react to the news..? you are still falling, flying, floating.. you wonder if it all really happened.. you were sure you could make it..

you finally land.. the ground is hard, the sun is still shining and the noises sounds so odd.. faces appear that you do not know.. you hear people talking but for some reason you cannot understand them.. you close your eyes hoping it is all a dream, a surreal dream, a movie you in which you are surprisingly one of the stars.. when you finally open your eyes again, the walls are white, the light is dim, the low buzzing sounds of machinery enters your ears..

when you are finally fully conscious, the memories of the past days’ events come flooding back into your mind.. something you do every day and have done since you could remember, nearly ended your life.. but what made that day different..? you made a wrong move, a careless move.. it is in that instant, you realize you really are not invincible as you once thought.. unbeknownst to you, a shadowy figure has brought your mortality to the brink.. and decides to wait for another day..

perfection, vanity and numbness..

do you ever feel as if you are on the edge of something that feels like a change, but you do not know if it is good or bad..? what do you do..? how will you react..? are you elated..? or do you go numb..? there are a set of rules, standards that govern how one reacts to feelings.. they are the same, no matter what language you speak or what gender you are.. sad is sad.. happy is happy.. anger is anger.. what varies is the degree of those feelings..

in a perfect world, all is good.. the birds sing, the sun shines and you have this overwhelming sense of warmth enveloping your body, bathing your soul.. you hold your head higher, your stride is more confident and you cannot help smiling at the world about you.. there is no darkness, there is no sadness, there is nothing but happiness and laughter.. the flowers are always in bloom, the chocolate is divine and a tear shed is for pure joy.. does it sound odd..? well, in a perfect world, all is perfect..

in the not so perfect world, there is an imbalance of good and bad, mixed with the downright mean.. being told it is not fair is commonplace.. feelings are hurt by the minute, kindness is a rarity and goodness is virtually non-existent.. there is coldness, there is callousness, there is vanity and conceit.. so much to drag one down into a deep, dank pit from which many do not emerge.. all your life experiences are dirty secrets to be hidden away, only to surface in the dark of night so they may not be seen and hopefully not heard.. on the tip of your tongue are words poised to inflict pain and hurt.. your whole being is encased in armor, always on guard and ready to pour hot oil upon anyone who comes near the walls of your prison.. and an imminent death to those who manage to slip within.. does it ring true..? it is all in a day of the not so perfect world..

i often marvel at the innocence of a child.. so peaceful, so confident.. so happy.. their world is untouched by sarcasm, by arrogance, by narcissism.. they wake up every morning smiling and elated.. its a new day, ripe for the taking.. ready to conquer all..! confidence soars, laughter is endless and the simple act of bestowing a hug upon another makes the world perfect.. it is as close to absolute perfection as you will ever be..

but, child innocence is forced to see that a not so perfect world is the reality.. it is what keeps us pessimistic.. keeps us from accepting the good and innocent when it is right in front of us.. we thrive in its quixotic darkness, we revel in its shadowy ambiguity and we die a slow, pathetic death within the intoxicating 'beauty' of it all.. a perfect world is ultimate sarcasm at its finest.. embrace it..? reject it..? or mold it to make your journey as pleasant as possible in the treacherous waters of imperfection..?

i have yet to learn how to deal with the hurt.. my 'skin' is still of a child-like quality.. my fortress walls are high and formidable, but i still seek out the good only to be stung and forced to retreat to my thinly-veiled sanctuary to tend to my wounds.. all in good time i will learn to embrace the darkness, accept the coldness and adore the callousness of it all.. i am crushed and broken yet i wait patiently for eternal solitude of numbness..

and my day begins

i woke up this morning to the sound of my annoying alarm.. 6:05am.. opening my eyes, i saw the tree outside my bathroom window moving as if a group of monkeys were shaking it, but it was only the wind and i quickly realize my room is cold from leaving my two bedroom windows open as well as one of the bathroom windows.. ugh, i quickly cover myself with my down comforter, snuggling closer to my favorite pillow.. 5 minutes later, i am more wide awake than as if i had drank an entire pot of coffee.. lovely, it's now 6:10am.. well, no better time to get up than now.. i wander into the bathroom with its cold tile floor and catch a glimpse of myself.. "whoa, easy there, simba, you have some nice hair going on there..! " my reflection so eloquently points out.. even my reflection is part of my very own peanut gallery..

so, i turn on the shower and realize i have a guest.. a very small guest, about the size of a quarter, hanging out in the corner of the shower next to the open window.. how nice to start out the day with wind, cold air and a hairy spider.. don't i just have all the luck..?! after a few moments of a stare-down between me and that unwelcome spider, i decide to leave him/her alone and take a quick shower.. i purposely keep my eye on it; would suck if i had that spider jump into my hair and i break the glass on the shower doors as i scream trying to get out.. after 10 minutes pass, the spider lives to see another day and my shower doors remain intact..

i spend the next 15 minutes trying to wake up my child to no avail.. she is just knocked out and oblivious to all around her.. i wish i could sleep like that, but that's another story and i am sure medication would be involved.. not yet 7am, i already hear the chimes alerting me i have email messages waiting for me and then a text message at 7 on the dot.. don't people know those who work at home don't start working until after morning coffee and a lunch with friends..??

so, after i finally am able to rouse my sleeping child and get her dressed, we make our way out of the house, into the cool, windy morning to the car.. i am actually looking forward to going to the gym.. as we leave the driveway and head to the freeway a couple of miles away, she chats up a storm and soon we are both laughing; hardly the sound for a morning commute.. pointing out cars, counting trucks and not caring we are sitting in 5-mph traffic, completely surrounded by sour faces and impatient drivers..

after 25 minutes of driving from one side of the hill to the other and zipping along some city streets, we pull into the parking lot at the gym.. after signing in and getting her to the kid's club, i make my way to the treadmill.. what kind of day will this be..? let's see what a constant training session does.. after trying to run up an incline of 13.0 at 2.5-mph, i abandon that after 3 1/2 laps around the 'track' on the screen.. i reset the machine to 2.9-mph and begin to 'cool down', but something happens, i find myself increasing the speed to 3.8-mph then to 4.0-mph and i'm running.. how is this possible..?

about 30 minutes and 2-1/2 miles later, i didn't matter how it was possible.. so, how's that for a day that began with wind, cold tile and a hairy spider..?

improbability of the end

yesterday was supposed to be the end of the world.. but fortunately, we are all here.. we are still able to enjoy sunday mornings with our coffee and snuggled on the couch with our most precious person next to us. we still have our family, we still have life.

i was asked what would happen if the world ended. kinda silly to ask since no one knows.. it just stops, or does it..? what if life does stop..? does the universe cease to exist..? does the human race cease to exist..?

i thought about a bit yesterday.. the whole improbability of the end as was predicted.. amazing how the mind itself works.. many have beliefs that the world, as we know it, was created by some omnipotent 'being' residing on high in the heavens above us.. he has many names and many faces.. but, my thoughts boil down to one person who believes, according to his accurate, celestial calculations, all was going to stop, cease and shut down on this one particular day; even went so far as to say which hour..

alas, we are still here.. still breathing, still eating, still alive and well.. hmm, kinda makes you wonder what's in his water..? most of the time when i can't explain something in everyday life (namely someone's actions), i say it must be in their water.. in his case, i think his water is spiked with its fair share of eucharist wine or something a bit more (maybe something you see on the shelf behind the bar at the local cantina).. or.. he's dug up a few peyote cactus and.... nah, do religious relics such as this man really do things like that..??

but, what if all has ended and we don't know it or we are still in denial..? sounds bit like a plot from some bizarre sci-fi story turned motion picture.. how will the story line proceed..? how do we find out it is all just a farce..? even cooler, who would play you..? i don't think i would want to know the answer to that last question.. but, if there was someone to play me, wouldn't that mean we are still here..??

all of this talk of the world ending, all the mass-hysteria which is supposed to ensue and just not seeing your most precious person ever, why would someone wish to foretell such an ending to all mankind..? what kind of unbalanced individual does such a thing..? on the lighter side, doesn't he know he's not going to be famous..? who's gonna read the papers or watch the news with the blaring, bold headlines, "END OF THE WORLD PREDICTED BY.." as the old saying goes, "all things come to an end".. but, if we're not here, who cares..?

happiness is before you, not behind..

today, i woke up with my throat feeling it was on fire and no water in sight.. i glance at the clock with my fuzzied eyes and notice it says '4:16'.. tired from coughing most of the night, beat because i can't get comfortable and irritated because someone *cough*mydumbneighbor*cough* decides to clean his truck out at 1am.. this is genuinely one of those days when you wish you can have a 'do-over' and find yourself back at the time when you attempted to fall asleep the night before.. what a glorious time that would be.. falling asleep to the sound of mark harmon's voice on ncis.. *sigh*

well, to talk about a 'do-over'.. haven't you had one of those days in your life where you wish you could completely wipe it off the slate of your memory and replace it with one that is so much better..? i am sure you have, i know i have.. what can you actually do with a 'do-over'..? in reality, it's not as if you can change that memory you wish to have scrubbed from the bottom drawer cluttered with all the other things you wish to forget that reside in your mind..

take for instance a bad date.. yeah, for the next few days, you spend ditching the phone calls and take a hiatus from your personal e-mails.. but, over a cup of coffee or whatever suits your mood, you learn to laugh about it with your best friends and it becomes one of those laughing, giggling moments you don't want to forget.. now, those memories are worth saving.. after all, there is a form of laughter in almost every situation..

then what about those moments that you are filled with regret because you didn't step up or speak up.. do you spend the rest of your life pondering what all would have been like if you had done just that..? would the outcome actually have changed..? hmm, probably/probably not.. it's a 50/50 shot.. not very good odds considering it's your ego and heart on the line.. like me, i am sure most aren't in life hoping to have their heart stomped to dust and their ego deflated like a flat tire.. but what happens when you finally do speak up, step up or have a 'do-over'..? i have yet to find out what actually does happen..

i am trying to lead myself in the direction of moving forward.. 'happiness is before you, not behind! ' declared a slip of paper inside my virtual fortune cookie.. then i had to sit back and think.. it's true.. the reason why things are behind you is because they have already served their purpose and there is no reason to revisit.. don't live in the past, go forward into the future.. hmm, a novel thought..

pair of jeans

all of us, at one time or another, has had someone in their life that they feel they want to be with forever.. yes, even my snarky side has wished this for myself.. but, when the dust settles from the thorough stomping of your heart, you still hang onto that hope the person will see you as other than a mere friend..

what do you do when you have been banished to the 'friend zone'..? i have a friend that is in this purgatory on earth zone and feels almost helpless.. it's an awful place to be and yes, i've been relagated to this no-man's land before but have finally learned to move beyond it.. sure there are moments when i feel i am getting close to breaking the silence i've been forced to endure and confessing all my feelings for this person, but i quickly take a deep breath, sinking quietly back to my life in my own purgatory.. in some strange way, purgatory feels safer..

how do we release ourselves from this zone..? do we ever..? i just wonder if the person is truly aware of what goes on in another's heart when it comes to them.. i have to think they do.. yet, one reason i think they do not act upon it or open that 'can of worms' is because they do not want to be held or feel responsible for the pain of another person, a guilt they are not strong enough to handle.. i am convinced this person knows they cannot make you happy, you deserve much more that what they have and when you realize it, you are free of that banishment of the 'friend zone' and purgatory..

in my cynical view on the matters of the heart and in life, i still feel there is one person that fits each one of us like that perfect pair of worn-in jeans.. in our world of billions, we search for that one person who doesn't relegate you to the dreaded 'friend zone'.. you have to wear that pair of jeans for years, you have to put them on, take them off, toss them in the washer, sleep in them and all of this to find the perfect fit..

despite the billions of people in our world, we become so engrossed with the phenomenon of tunnel-vision that we become almost obsessed with proving to that one person we are perfect for them, that we don't belong in the 'friend zone' and that are the one who can make their world spin.. in my experience with such a occurance, you lose sight of who you are, you start to question your being, your existence and convince yourself you are doing something wrong.. your whole waking and sometimes sleeping life is about this one person and why they can't see what a great person you are..

there comes a day when that moment of crystal clear clarity finally makes its way to the surface of your own private space in purgatory and it all boiled down to one simple statement: what you are doing wrong is trying to convince the wrong person you are the right pair of jeans..

pink slippers

sunday was in interesting day.. for the most part it was relatively quiet and boring.. then, at 8:00pm, i was at the airport picking up a friend.. the airport has been remodeled/revamped/redone once again and yes, it was several loops around the track before i finally figured out how to get into the parking garage.. but, that is another story in itself..

so, i'm standing down by baggage claim, waiting for him and trying to focus on my magazine article about disasters of 2010; the headliner was the gulf oil spill.. but as i'm standing there, people walk around me, pass me, almost thru me as if i am not there.. it feels kinda wierd but kinda cool at the same time..

as my focus changes to the people around me and not on the words of the article i was reading, i see so many different faces, eye colors, styles of dress and people hugging or talking into cell phones looking for others.. the chime on my cell phone brings me back to reality when i glance at the words, "just landed, see you in a few".. i look around at the people by the baggage claim conveyor belt and the escalator with its glass siding .. a huge group of people start the descent to the waiting friends and family as the waves, smiles and loud voices of those of us at the bottom begin.. after five minutes, i still have no one to wave to and smile..

a second text a couple of minutes later, "what are you wearing?" displays on the screen.. i look down at my feet and reply, "i'm the only one here wearing pink slippers, hard to miss.." moments later, a voice says, "cute slippers, where do i get a pair? " i turn around and there is my friend, his green eyes looking like polished silver in the lighting, smiling mischievously, "pink slippers or not, you are hard to miss.." after hugging him and his scratchy backpack, we join the throngs of nameless, faceless people mulling out of the airport terminal and into waiting cars and taxis..

yes, sunday was definitely an interesting day..

recurring dream of olivier

i often dream of one person.. he's always on the edges of my subconscious.. always in dark colors, always saving someone, saving me.. for the past few nights when i've managed to get a few hours of sleep, he visits me.. always holding my hand or extending his hand to me, always telling me it will all be okay, not to worry.. although i did have one dream where i was in his house, which i've actually never been, and he was pulling me forward to meet his friend who had come in, the feel of warmth and safety was there..

as the owner of an analytical mind, i decided to find out what the purpose, if any, a recurring dream has, if it means something and why it relates to me.. so, i called my mom, my cousin and a friend who all have an interest in dream symbology and dreams in general.. the consensus of the three women is that it all relates to some unfinished business with this person or some underlying fear or conflict as well as a possible conflict or unresolved issue i have in my awake life..

as i ponder this information, i start to put two-n-two together and realize he usually comes to me in my dreams when i'm worried, alone, scared, nervous and for a brief moment in my life, i allow someone to take my hand and reassure me that all will be well.. i am safe while i dream and i am cushioned in this warm, comforting nest he offers..

i don't take the dreams i have of him in a literal sense because in the real world, i told him i did not wish to think of him because he is like a ghost to me.. i hang onto the hope that i will one day see him and told him that i know it will most likely never occur.. i wished him well and hoped that he will stay safe.. i miss him.. i probably always will..

however, if for a moment in my life, despite it being in my sleeping life, i feel safe when i see him, i will take that..

voodoo queen

driving into work this morning seemed like it took forever..! almost as if i were driving to los angeles from new york.. the road seemed to stretch out for miles and miles.. and miles..! but, on this rare, pseudo-long drive, i actually took in the scenery as i zipped down the road.. huge, ornate houses that looked like the carriage houses on english estates.. rich colors of the formerly dry grass now emerging as emerald green.. the velvety, sable colored trunks and branches of oak trees.. the changing colors of various shaped leaves on the many species of trees.. driving through puddles and watching the water drops splash up on the windshield.. it was a fun drive once i got passed at the 1-min = 30 min science fiction time frame..

the music on the radio, well a cd i had made from the loads of music i have in my iTunes library at home, played loudly.. it is funny how music can invoke different moods and create such thoughts in your head.. one of the songs, 'marie laveaux' by lucia (i'm at a loss for her last name) and the flying neutrinos, is about a 19th century voodoo queen in new orleans and a con-man named 'handsome jack' who wants a spell from her to make him a million dollars and his payment is to marry her.. at one point on my morning travels, i actually picture a scene from that song playing out in the open woodsy-type area along the road.. he decides, after the spell has given him his money, that she is just too ugly for a handsome man like him.. she screams and poof, he's toast..! the rain and the dark, overcast sky helped add to the vividness of the images that played out in my mind..

a few minutes later, i had to shut down the movie screen in my head.. i pulled into the parking lot at work.. time to go back to the real world.. hmm.. there's always tomorrow..!

watching a lonely soul..

have you ever wondered what became of people who were once in your life, even if for a brief moment, like a blip on the screen of life, then they are no longer there..? sheer curiosity has always kept them not necessarily in the forefront of your mind, but always lingering on the fringes.. what happened to that once young life over a period of a quarter of a century..? college..? marriage..? death..? nothing..?

`

at the age of 16, i met someone who, for the next 25 years, would leave me wondering what became of him.. i remember him being a good student in high school, athletic in school as well as outside of it.. he was the elder of two boys adopted by a couple, who for whatever reason, did not have children of their own.. this guy was the first person i ever had a crush on..

`

then, one day, it all stopped.. i no longer heard the sound of his voice.. i no longer saw his smile.. no longer inhaled the scent of tide laundry soap when i hugged him..

`

now, in present day, nearly twenty-five years later, by sheer accident or some strange cosmic force, i heard his voice once again.. it was not familiar, but i knew it was the same person.. during this quarter century hiatus, i finished high school, graduated with honors and a partial scholarship, put myself through college while working, lost my father to a heart attack, had a child and made a life that was safe for both her and myself..

`

what i learned, he graduated from high school, lost his father a couple of years after graduation, joined the military, got married, had children, lived all over the world on various military bases, but came home a very changed man..

`

the demons this man was fighting within himself that he had accumulated throughout the years from various places and times in his life, the one that had the strongest hold on him was much more dangerous than most can imagine.. it is so readily available.. at any market, most gas stations, convenience stores and resided in most friend's refrigerators or chair-side cooler..

`

throughout much of this man's life, alcohol has been right there with him, like a cooing lover or the devil on his shoulder.. from a teenager with a 'driving under the influence' to the numbing news of the death of his father or the downward spiral of his marriage.. this particular demon had made sure it was with him every step of the way, making sure it was a constant companion when no one else would..

`

at the age of 42, i know this man is slowly dying, with each urging of the demon to swallow the liquid that has been like a lifeline to him.. yet, despite the obvious signs of his demon having a firm hold on this man's life, many turn a blind eye, a cold shoulder or simply turn their back to avoid seeing or making eye contact with one in this situation..

`

not many want to watch a person, whether it is a friend, family member or a complete stranger, slowly die by their own hand.. some say it's easy to quit, just to stop 'cold turkey'.. but, it rules the life of the one with the demon and those around them.. as it ruins lives, the demon lives on, visiting millions and gaining new playthings as the day goes on..

`

no amount of badgering, threats or physical force will conquer this demon with its deep-rooted hold.. words from a doctor telling of declining health will not drive the demon away.. the demon has made the world seem safe and comfortable as long as it is part of it.. to the person, it is hard to give up that sense of comfort and let go..

`

i look at myself while i watch this person.. i realize, after my own internal struggles i face daily, i cannot fight this person's battle or fight the demon who has such a hold on him.. i try not to think of being a failure as a friend to this guy, but it is what it is..

`

i care, but cannot show it.. i want to see if he is well, but i cannot ask.. i want to help, but i cannot do it for him.. it is his demon and if the demon felt threatened, it would use whatever means it could to lash out at me.. it is a battle i cannot fight and i have learned i cannot fight the battle for everyone..

`

have you ever had one of those moments when you wish you had a bag of pixie dust to sprinkle over someone, to simply wish them to be free of whatever hurts them..? this is my wish, but it is not conceivable.. this guy is like a vortex, a black hole.. sucking all that is around him down with him and his demon is sitting on the edge with a grin.. with all my strength and patience, i cannot be this man's savior..

`

i recently took a drive one night when i found myself home alone.. an hour later, i found myself driving past his darkened house, only the sconces on either side of the garage door were lit.. i drove by slowly knowing i would not stop, but for a brief second, curiosity had me wondering what he was doing..

`

i pulled into a parking lot a few blocks away to go to a store when i saw him.. he looked empty and defeated as he took a drink of his favorite liquid in the tell-tale clear bottle.. a worn baseball hat, an oversized sweatshirt and baggy jeans hung on his thin, emaciated body.. he sat quietly on the corner of a raised planter box, leaning against a building column; barely visible in the darkness.. he was a nameless, faceless soul to all those around him, but me..

`

i felt as i observed him that had i made myself known, i would have been intruding.. i must have sat in that parking lot watching him for nearly an hour until he gathered his things and disappeared into the darkness.. as i started my car and drove away, i felt an odd sadness.. the shadows had taken refuge on his lonely soul..

reflections of the psyche

ever have someone just make your skin crawl..? give you the creeps..? the mere sight of them makes your blood boil..? well, i'm sure you get my path of thoughts on this one.. okay, there's a person i encounter once in a while, not often, but just enough that their presence makes famously polluted, thick London fog look like the fake Halloween smoke.. what causes such a reaction..? how do you train yourself to calm your nerves for fear that one second too long in this persons' presence will cause you to black out and pull a 'Jack the Ripper' on them..? well, maybe not that bad, but the age-old cliche of 'ripping someone's head off' comes chillingly to mind..

i'm not one to preach psychology nor am i one to pretend to be knowledgeable in the field of psychiatry and its vast libraries of the brain's infinite nuances.. i question my thoughts daily and have begun to dissect and catalog them in my own vast library.. rather than trying to figure out what makes another person do something, what makes me tick..?

i had once heard or read that the people who irk you the most is your own reflection of yourself in their eyes..? once thinking about this, do i put off that vibe that makes another person's skin crawl? do i give another person the creeps..? i certainly hope not.. is this a quirky, tim burton-ish twist on the Golden Rule - "Do unto other as you would have them do unto you"..?

with that said, is my standoffish, aloof, arrogant persona reflecting onto others and therefore the way i want to be treated..? maybe that's my 'front', but i've also been told i'm friendly, funny, loyal, strong, trustworthy, somewhat geeky person.. hmm, am i a modern day jeckyll and hyde..? that is surely something to think about.. but, as i sit here laughing imagining myself as the character "Two-Face" from the Batman comics, can a person such as this be real..?

mayby i am an anomoly..? am i a strange, unusual or unique occurance in the human race or, more specific, the female half of the race..? not sure if i would exactly go that far, but i am learning that i am a bit of an eccentric, bit of a dark, brooding soul all mixed up to create this entity of the universe that is uniquely me. it's actually kinda cool..

to dream a dream

well, it's been a while.. hopefully i am completely back from my forgetful hiatus.. i have been on a kick of trying to analyze the frequently action-packed and often bizarre 'movies' that play behind my closed eyelids while i sleep.. i know dreams are your subconscious trying to communicate with your conscious on a subconscious level.. but, can dreams actually be movie clips from lives past..? it kind of makes me wonder when i have such detailed dreams of buildings, places, smells and textures..

what does it mean to dream of ghosts..? to dream of crypts..? to dream of being held by someone you want to be held by so badly..? being able to hear drops of water or water splashing on the pylons of a pier.. the feel of your feet crammed into a pair of peep-toe pumps that goes rather well with your pencil skirt.. how do you shake the eerie feeling of a person's smile in your dreams that chills you to the core..?

Carl Jung believed that the images in your dreams are your own way of learning about yourself, your relationships with others and how you handle everyday life.. he believed that discussing your dreams can help you unlock the meanings.. he also believed that symbols that appear in dreams are universal in context in both the minds of men and women.. he termed this as the 'collective unconscious'.

these collective symbols are all part of what Jung termed "archtypes".. 'persona' is yourself in your dreams; whether you are an old lady or a ghost, you know this is you in your dreams.. 'shadow' is the the repressed/rejected aspects of yourself; this is what you don't want the world to know about you and is often related to weakness, anger and fear.. 'anima/animus' is the male/female aspect of yourself; all of us have masculine and feminine traits, they are there to help you recognize your strength and emotions.. 'divine child' is the most pure, innocent form of yourself; it helps you see your vulnerabilites and helplessness but it also helps you to see your full potential.. 'wise old man/woman' is the figure in your dreams that presents as an authority figure; they are there to offer guidance and wisdom as well as steer you on the right path.. 'great mother' is the nurturing figure in your dreams; he/she provides you with the necessary reassurances to continue on your path.. 'trickster' keeps you from taking yourself too seriously..

all of these archtypes exist in the unconscious realm of your dreams and materialize as needed in significant times or transistional periods of your life.. they often leave you stunned about realizing something about yourself and the sheer vividness/reality of the dreams remain long after you have awaken.. i often wondered why my dreams stayed with me for days and i am finally learning why.. they have helped me realize my fears of moving forward, my fears of letting the past be in the past and i know that the archtypes that appear nightly are there for a reason.. now when i dream, i learn, i grow and i heal..

to dream of olivier

okay, so, I haven’t written in a while..it’s not as if I haven’t had anything to write, I just have too much to write and not sure where to start.. well, I can start off with a weird, strange dream I had the other night.. It seems like a good place to start, time to delve into the bizarre annals of my innermost psyche.. bust out the popcorn and slurpees and prepare to be amazed (or flabbergasted, either one works..)

scene one from the dream I had..

bungalow styled interior – dark, mahogany wainscoting with pale, cream-colored walls.. muted light filters in through the windows at the front of the house.. the bedroom is light, with dark wood furniture – bed, desk, low & high boy dressers with a mirror behind the door.. across the hall with dark hardwood floors is a bathroom of light gray/gun metal gray/blue tiled floors – smaller tiles of the same color go half way up the wall.. the front door is dark with a dark frame and a small rectangular window with four smaller panes..

I am wearing a pair of pajamas that are too big for me as is the dark blue robe I have on over the pajamas.. i am doing homework at the desk in the room.. the bedroom i am in is not mine.. across the hall, “O”, (full name not used in order to protect their identity) is in the bathroom 'dropping the Brown's off at the pool' business (why I would imagine this man taking a dump in my dream is beyond me, but then again, it’s what came to mind in my dream and I had not control over it’s content).. crazy enough, most dream interpreters refer to seeing someone in this mode of action in their dreams is a sign of financial good luck..?? okay, now that I’ve sidetracked myself, back to the dream.. “O” notices me stepping out of the room and crosses the hallway to the bedroom and meets me halfway.. he kisses my forehead and then, at the other end of the hall, the front door opens up and a dark haired woman walks in.. I try to duck back into the room, but he holds onto to me and says it’s just one of his friends, not to worry, they are all waiting to meet me..

scene two..

the backyard of the house is decked out in full festival style.. strings of lights hang from trees, chinese lanterns hanging from random branches, tiki torches with dancing flames and festive music.. many tables full of food, drinks, desserts are on a patio.. the smell of smoke from the barbeque grill is familiar and oddly comforting..

I am walking through this party as if I am a ghost.. no one can see me and they are speaking of me as if I am not there.. I overhear the woman who came in through the front door when I was in the hallway with “O” tell another person that I am the girl he has been talking about and she mentions I am going to be a doctor, what a good catch is the reply..

scene three..

I am back in a house I do not recognize at first, but as I walk through the garage, I recognize the house as “J’s” first house.. the cabinets in the garage are built-in, lacquered walnut wood.. the ceiling is of exposed rafters with the nails from the shingled roof poking through.. I quickly find I am looking in a closet that has only empty hangers on the rod and as I look at the floor, which I quickly realize is a wall (I seem to be standing at a weird angle in this room) there is a whole with exposed slats and stucco type wall – reminiscent of the old mission/adobe style home construction - on the other side of the hole in the wall were toys that I had previously seen stored in bins in the rafters of the garage.. as I look through this hole, I hear a voice (plainly the voice of “O” and strangely warm as it is soothing) telling me “J’s” making room for “M’s” daughters.. don’t worry, you are safe with me the voice finishes saying before I once again feel a kiss on my forehead..

I’ve sat here for several days now trying to decipher the message or meaning behind this dream.. in the literal sense, I could say that “O” is my guardian trying to protect me from my fears or dismal future..? or taken in another sense, I do not feel myself worthy of “O” and that the only way I can make myself feel worthy is if I become a member of one of the noblest professions, a doctor.. in addition, I am not necessarily accepting of “J’s” new life, but I cannot lay blame or feel malice toward the children involved and which my subconscious has acknowledged my place or lack of in “J’s” life path..

Throughout the self-analysis of my off the wall dream, I keep coming back to the part that actually shocked me the most.. seeing “O” taking a dump and it’s supposed meaning.. the overall research of my dream was mostly of a dreary outcome, yet, the bathroom scene points to luck in finances.. perhaps a lottery win on the horizon or a long-lost relative bestowing upon me in their final will & testament, a large castle nestled in the deep, green moors of Scotland where the taxes and expenses of owning such an estate have already been taken care of for my lifetime and the lifetime of my heir..?

In thinking back on this dream, it holds, for me, a sense of hope.. not necessarily a life with "O" complete with utter devotion on his part and comfort and safety on my part or a potentially heartbreaking path of life with "J", but I think the dream is telling me I am finally in a place in my life where I am safe and all the fears of my past have now gone into the past where they belong.. and I now realize my future is bright and full of promise..

stuck in time..??

so, it’s been a while since i’ve written in my very own blog, but as it happens, time is once again being my enemy/frenemy. well, not completely, but it’s easier to lay blame on something that can’t verbally argue back, but it can pay me back in ways that will show (let’s not mention that new wrinkle in my forehead..) i chalk this relationship up to a ‘love-hate’ correlation.

do you ever have the feeling time just flies by, slows down to a snails’ crawl or just seems stuck..? have you ever had them all seem to happen at the same time..? well, to put this in perspective, this morning as i was driving to work (by the way, i’ve put in my order to Santa for a shiny new red helicopter for that easy, breezy ride to work next year), i was not surprisingly stuck in a pocket of traffic; the speed was so slow the car was just idling forward. but what felt like a two hour stand-still was only a two minute time span..? how can that happen..? what happened..? anyone please chime in if they have a reasonable explanation. don’t even try the alien thing.. there was no room for their space ship on the freeway to land or even hover.

as i now realized i still had another twenty minutes to go before i arrived at my destination, i began to think of what might have happened during that two minute/two hour time ‘blip(?)’.. could all of that ‘fly-by’ time as well as all the ‘snail time’ be accumulated in some time continuum account and in order to balance out the cosmic universe, i was put in a state of ‘freeze’ for an indeterminate amount of time..? okay, i’m turning a little science fiction weird at the moment, but what could explain the blip..?

i know there are some of you who would say i am putting w-a-y too much thought and energy into this, but, the way my mind wanders and works, i’m not giving this enough thought. okay, i’ll put this in another perspective. (you can toss tomatoes at me later. make sure none land in the vicinity of my mouth or you will face the consequence of an ‘exorcist-like’ projectile vomit episode – yeah, i know it’s gross, that’s my point..)

maybe it’s just my overall impatience and frustration which makes time stand still, my eagerness or stress-free moment that time seems to fly by and those moments when i’m not sure if i’m impatient or carefree when time seems to be stuck, sort of like letting me enjoy or contemplate my own ‘stolen’ moments. see, that came to mind without the aid of science fiction geekology or the belief of ufo-logy or even the smoke filled crystal ball of madame sasha. in a moment of clarity or peace, i just let myself think it’s a moment given to me by God to allow me a time to chat with him and re-align myself.