There are few things that I hate more than the early morning birds that decide my window is a suitable place to sing outside of, while I lay in my bed dreaming of endless possibilities.  I dream of beauty and those birds, they draw me from my paradise like hammers nailing in pictures next door.  Chalk screeching down the green board making comfort impossible.  Almost as bad as the female shrieking full blown curses at a man whose heart is like gold in the room next to mine this morning.  Why these things?  Why this abuse of a soul worth protecting.  Yet he doesnt know it...and the violence in my heart rises to his defense, wanting to waste her away in the heat of my explosion, my sense of justice coming down on her like those hammers that erk my very nature. 

I want to burst through the door like a whirlwind and open her eyes to her own ugly display of humanity.  I want to destroy every sense that she has of her right to break down another human being to his very humble core, and slap her silly till she comes out of it...Why ugliness begets ugliness....and I want to hold her closer than she has been held after the mirror reveals to her what she is, because it will hurt.  I will hurt her in my light.

Ugliness begets ugliness....and I sit with this thought till the end of it, making friends with it, putting my arms around it, and changing its mind so that her ugliness might beget something else.  What that might be, I dont know, as she has shown her idea of me to be nothing more than a enjoyable amusement...just something on the outside, to calm and relax....

She thinks I am simple.  I dont talk much. 

She should be wary though, not to think my silence is a free pass.  Because when my heart decides to speak, she wont like what it has to say.

Ugliness Begets Ugliness, I will say.  You destroy your own happiness, I will say.

Drifted away unexpectedly
and I dont know you anymore
though upon your insistance
I never knew you.
Just a small pin head of what you showed me

I did start to wonder...
why it was that pinhead of deteriorating light
that you shed my way
when there was a whole sun of you
to choose from.

Im lucky I suppose
to have been left behind
by someone who desires to show his worst side
(at least I hope that is the worst of you)
because I dont know that a friend
has ever treated me so poorly.

I crossed the world at your darkest hour
I ran to your side to comfort your heart
I gave without requiring anything
and in return...you abandoned me
only responding
when the (ugly) truth is lit
covering up your self-hatred
by my submission to your request.

And when you call (if you call)
it reiterates how you care so little for me
that all I am is a sounding board...
some one to talk to so you can feel
like you dont just like to hear yourself speak...

"next time we'll talk about you"
"Next time we'll get to your feelings"
"next time Ill consider you"
when the whole time you know
there will be no "next time"

"Im sorry I hurt you"

There are two things that sentence does for the person it is said to.  First-it lets the reciever know that the giver of those five little words acknowledges that they did something to the reciever that was either intentional or unintentional that the giver is conscious of doing that hurt the reciever.

Second, it lets the reciever know that they mean something to the giver-enough to take ownership, and apologize.

as opposed to "Im an asshole"

Which lets the giver get off the hook for ownership of an action, and doesnt really have anything to do at all with the reciever.  Its a cop out.

I personally dont care if you are an asshole or not, just as long as you regret aiming your assholeness at me-and not because I become (very literally) the biggest pain in the ass you can imagine when someone directs thier assholeness at me, but because they regret hurting me.

The problem is that if you have to tell a person that you want an apology, then its purity is tainted, its value slightly lessoned...but then again....you can tell someone that you need something from them till your blue in the face, but that doesnt mean they will give it to you...

So, like a bandaid and salve over a wound just made, an apology is a very valuable and relationship saving thing, at least it my book.

And it takes some one comfortable with themselves-the goods and the bads-to say that little phrase.

I also realize that I am exactly that first phrase, in a very real way.  I feel bad for hurting someone I care about, but knowing that I just wrote a blog about how "it takes someone great to apologize" Im not going to do it right now, if only for the very reason that if I do it could be misconstrued as me tooting my own horn.

I do want to thank Bob for writing that blog. 
"you're fucked up and I know why" 

Bleeding beating fragile heart
protected, so far, all along
no.

no way to get through
but I knew that
didnt know I wanted to

Cold steel plated, bullet proof
safe, inside codes and passwords
Long narrow corridors that collapse
on intruders and invited alike

wonder
how long it took to get behind such walls
or maybe....

Projection is a dangerous thing.

There are no short cuts
and there are no substitutes
at least not for me
not anymore

Diving in too fast
makes reality unsure,
the passion of a forest fire
cut short by dead wood

Raging ups and downs
over analysis killing trust
respect-none recieved
a product of bursting

what fire can last
when the time is cut short
smothered by lack of materials
to burn...

in contrast

Steady build up of flamable foundation
over time building the rager before me
takes time to light, and time to reach
its highest hieght, and nothing
nothing can speed the process
or increase the heat
like patient pennies dropping in the heap

Patience, to build the fire
Patience to light it
Patience to watch it build
and Patience to burn it.

May last a life time
or at least comparitively
the regret nonexistant
the return-long lasting.

They teach you that in school-not to burn away your wood too fast.  To wait and take the time and not let eager anticipation spoil the next moment...but you dont learn that knowledge until experience leads you to realize-they were right.  Or maybe the you is me, and I am the one who learned.

My little love notes
and yours to me
are here

I read them today
thinking the memory
was gone

But its not, and mistakes
as big as apples of wisdom
separate me
from you

Of course its not gone
time is not like distance
but I pulled too much on a fragile heart
with my big heavy expectations
and my overpowering indications
and my out of place accusations
my own fragility in chaos.

I dont want this
separation
but perhaps
that is what is best
for me/him/us.

I feel stupid today, though nothing has changed to make me feel like I made a mistake, time passes and I know very soon hindsight will be 20/20 and Ill understand what eluded me before, and Ill have to forgive myself yet again for a mistake that could have been avoided.

Then again, God is in control...Right?  And my actions of the passed few days do make something very clear...

There is no hiding in distraction.  There is no hiding in substance.  There is no hiding in conversation.  No hiding in time.  I cannot hide forever, and inevitably, when I come out of my secret spot, the situation will be the same because I have done nothing to change it, only trembled in fear behind what ever could be called "something else"

Still feelings of not being where Im supposed to be, but so in need of stability-or at least the illusion of stability that I dont know any other way to survive at the moment. 

It is amazing to go from being on top of the world and able to extend my hands and heart to anyone who is in need, to being at the mercy of other people's generosity in a very short time, and it feels like I have destroyed the bridges for friendships that mean more to me than I can show at this time in some half-mad attempt to stop my outward flow. 

20/20 came sooner than I thought.

She sits there staring out the window searching for a cloud shaped like promise.  Her brown eyes deeply set on finding a rhythm to this life, to the wind.  She keeps thinking that she has something, that she sees what shes looking for, but shes so afraid to lose it that she misses it, sometimes just plain pushes it away. 

Theres work to do though, so after a minute of searching, she focuses again on the papers at hand, distractedly searching for the place she left off as she thinks about the words she just read.  Some kids are so smart.  Its true what they say, "Everything you ever need to know you learn in kindergarten", and the only thing that changes as you grow up is the depth of understanding of those simple truths.

She tucks her long blonde hair behind her ear, and zeros in on the essay.  Death and Life, what ninth grader could possibly write this paper?  Its like the kid has been scraping through the files of Alice's brain, and picking out the most important ideas she has, writes an allegory based on those thoughts.  Its really not fair to have a mirror so close to her face presented by a virtual child-an innocent that couldnt possibly know about such things to the depths that Alice does.  Theres no way he could possibly understand the depth of meaning of the words he's written.

But suppose he does?  What then? 

She would have to re-evaluate her stance on what rights she has to teach.  She would have to reconsider her own intrinsic value to the students.  Theres no way she could teach them when already they have such advanced knowledge of philosophers they dont even know they are quoting.

The phone rings.  Its her mother.  No, she wouldnt be coming to visit this weekend.  She couldn't.  Gas prices being what they are it would be cheaper to fly, and theres no way to get a ticket this late.  Yes, she's fine, she's eating.  Gained a couple of pounds these last two weeks-told you, mom that it goes in waves.  Nothing to worry about, and how are you?  Good.  Make sure you make an appointment with the doctor, mom, I need you around.  Ok, I love you too, bye mom.

The clouds call again.  She cant decide if she is living in the moment or observing the moment, observing her singularity in the world, observing her isolation, but something hurts.  And when she realizes this, tears well up in her, starting from her soul, and pouring out like a flood.  She closes her eyes, and draws her energies in, sobbing and not knowing why this pain.  Why these tears.  Why this hurt, but its there, buzzing below the surface, constantly.  Distraction mostly keeps it at bay, but she admits to herself that it never leaves her.  She doesnt want to live with it anymore.  She cant ignore it.  Something needs to change.

Breathe, she thinks, breathe.

And she does.  Focusing in and out, in and out, and soon, the pain goes back below the surface, but she doesnt push away the memory, she doesnt hide it from herself, she looks at it.  What is it?  What IS it?

Its nothing outside of her, nothing there could be hurting her, nothing was touching her.  And she thinks ironically that nothing outside could ever really touch her-something she saw in one of those self help movies she never took seriously, and chuckles.

God, now she really must be crazy.  One moment crying- the next laughing, whats next? Anger? 

And like some light switch, there it is-this red hot anger welling up so hot, like acid, burning her insides, energy out of every cell she could possibly feel, at her own pathetic state of emotional flux, that she has no control over anything, not even her own emotions. 

"WHAT?! " she screams, "WHAT DO YOU WANT FROM ME?!  WHY DO YOU KEEP DOING THIS TO ME?!  JESUS, JUST LEAVE ME ALONE!"

"oh", she shakes her head as a smile invites itself to a place on her lips.  A smile of understanding she just realized she shared with another. "oh...."

"Hi God."

I will be enabled.  Tomorrow when I get off  work and I have money in my pocket that I actually EARNED (from working for two weeks in a row full time for the first time in three years), I will have a drink in celebration at earning my keep on this earth. 

The only question I have in my head is this:  If I could survive the past four months here in Los Angeles (granted with support and some blockades) where couldnt I?  I can survive anywhere I choose to-I could go anywhere and live off anything.  There are no boundaries except the ones I place on myself...And if I settle.  If I settle into this life and grow up and live the way that everyone (and my mother) expects me to live, then I will have set my whole life up for failure...

The only thing consistant that I have been is diving into things before I know what it is Im diving into...And believe me, I have hit some pretty solid substances head first before-and I've finally figured out that the people that survive the collision are the ones that dive out of the way when they see me getting ready to jump....

But this...this job (that I say with a frown on my face and the sound of disdain in my voice) is like growing up.  Ill be twenty five in a month from today and I've never seriously wanted all those things that people say I should want-a husband, a house, stability....I mean sure, I found stability when I needed it-but it never stuck and it was always surrounded by something chaotic...so...what now?

What now?  Decide what it is I do want to do, and dive again.  Well...I still havent changed my mind about anything, not really.  On the surface maybe, but I keep my secret desires to myself, so that no one will try to talk me out of it...and one day, they will wake up and Ill be gone.  And a note will be in my place saying "I love you, but I have to go".

And like always, it wont take years like it takes most people I hear about, but months.  Days maybe...we'll see. 

Its never boring.

I have little patience for lies, pretense, and magicians...you know-distraction to cover up the trick.  I dont play those games-never had never will-partly because I have no ability to hide my emotions on my face, and partly because I refuse to learn how.

So get real, be real, and dont come to me unless you are or are trying to be...

I promise to call you on your shit when you are not being real, and even though you may get mad at me, and stop talking to me,  Im willing for that to be a possibility if it lets you know at least one person can see through the BS and wont "just let it slide"....

And I expect the same...though you should know that even if I get mad-I will always come back around (unless I die) and then I wont.  I dont stop caring just cause we stop talking...And the silence will only last as long as my pride.

That whole first part sounds a lot harsher than actual execution turns out to be, just to let you know.

And on a completely different tangent-

So heres the thing....there are so many people that I have met and that I read here on Zaadz that are going through what Im going through-HUGE life changes.  Transition, if you will.  Its encouraging but also surprising to know that situations can be soooooo similar.  Things that are written could be about me or to me or from me.  Its amazing to think that perhaps life does have a rhythm and that change does happen in larger groves than my own! 

and again-to change the subject slightly-on my new name:  I chose those letters for a reason, just as I chose those words.  Stella Luna-two "Orbs" in opposition existing in Harmony, providing light. Under Transition-very much so, constantly under transition- and as for the acronym...SLUT-they dont exist.  It means nothing.  And if I can encourage that philosophy, perhaps a little less negativity will plague the world.

Anyway, thats my blurb for the day...nothing poetic, just thoughts

S.L.U.T =)

I wish I had your hand in mine, and we were singing along to Gavin Degraw or Incubus, driving 85 to anywhere that had an ocean, and our worries were some where we had left hours ago

what a day we would spend wrapped in eachothers arms, laying on the beach letting the warm sand soothe away the tensions and just enjoying our togetherness, our blessing from God.

And when we drove back, hands still entwined, all the problems would have taken care of themselves, and everything would be as it should be. Peaceful, and grand.

The sun shining on our faces, and smiles for eachother. we would be relaxed. We would feel the breeze tousling our hair, and hear the ocean waves crashing in a steady rhythm as I flashed you a mischievous smile before you wrestled me into the water, laughing and pretending to try and get away and we would swim, letting the water carry us up and down, up and down, God's own cradle for His babies. His children. the predictibility an anchor: everything as it should be, everything as it is

Beautiful love, I will be there that day with you

Lets with hold a little pertinant information
lets keep whats detrimental to ourselves
until the moment when the personal damage
is likely to be the least

Keep it to ourselves
to save face, to self preserve
without reguard to what the other deserves

hmph

Emails and text messages, we are sitting waiting for contact, when the easiest and fastest way to communicate is not in deciphering a written message, but in single, urgent words-RUN. 

What other way could possibly communicated the reality of the siituation, but when dealing with it in reality-written word and computer technology not being enough to forewarn those in specific danger.

Are we so desensitized by the internet that reality is fleeting and brevity a mere pound of meat on a weighing table?  This is the problem-the denial of actual events unfolding-a quick medium for speading news, but not for avoiding it.  Too late, too long, too little, the words written are not mightier than a gun fired, when all the words in the world dont stop pain, hurt, anger, insanity, death.

I understand the uses for it.  I understand the importance, the wonder of it-but if it stops us from acting in order to preserve life, because we must think about the proper method of reaction, then it is deadening the instincts, and therefore not the best method of communication for all situations.

My heart is filled with sorrow.  My soul broken by tragedy again.  And tomorrow I will lift my head again in praise of the universe and of life and of joy, but today, my heart and soul are mourning for the loss of life at Virginia Tech.

http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/talking_point/6561335.stm

I wrote this during my lunch hour on a piece of paper that says something about the legal rights I have for employment....So at least I know Ill keep it.  I just started reading "A Brief History of Everything"  and he talked about Holons and all that stuff, which got me to thinking about Holy (since it is capitalized)

Wholey=Holy

An idea the God is Whole
the Whole universe, the Whole existance
So when we worship God-the Holy God
We worship the Whole

I dont think its a play on words
I think its an evolution of terms
and no coincidence that whole and Holy are similarly said,
written and sung
I am Wholey Devoted to Wholeness
Holiness, Wholeness...

Just some thoughts...

Lord prepare me,
to be a sanctuary
pure and Wholey
tried and true
with thanksgiving
Ill be a living
Sanctuary
For You

I want to know you
the ins and outs of you
the small and big of you
the little crevices that try to hide
The great big gaps that overwhelm
I want to test you and see you
Help you fill to the top
the wells of your energy
till nothing isnt succeedable

I want to know you
as well as I can
The valleys that turn to deserts
the mountains to rain
The beauty that brings to tears
and the hurt that causes them too
I want to share your burdens
and share your laughter
and reach your limits
and the ones that come after
I want to learn from you

Share the roles that shift in seconds
from lover, teacher, best friend, student
family, support, dependant, stabilizer
to any and all at any given time.

damn....why is it so fleeting?  Why is it so ellusive?  Does such a thing even really exist in places other than childhood- and even then only before the first change is noticed?  All we can promise is today, all I can give is this moment, is that enough stability for you?  How can I live in a future that doesn exist?  How can I live in a past that has no substance?  Just moment to moment is the only stability and there you can only guess at the next moment by the current one, and then the moment is wasted on anticipation instead of loved for what it is....

Sadomasochism:

1.	interaction, esp. sexual activity, in which one person enjoys inflicting physical or mental suffering on another person, who derives pleasure from experiencing pain.

2.	gratification, esp. sexual, gained through inflicting or receiving pain; sadism and masochism combined. Abbreviation: S-M, S and M

  3. Sex and Marriage

I cant believe I have never seen anyone else make the connection between S&M and Sex and Marriage....I mean its so simple: they share initials, and have similar effects on those who participate. 

That was my thought today on my way to work....might be a little to revealing, but I might add that I am neither having sex at the moment nor married...so, of course Im laughing now, but may be paying for it later...oh the irony!

How long have I known you little bird? How long have you whispered in my ear promises of staying and not going? How well do you know me? as just a part of your world, an anchor to flutter around, is that your definition, or is there more....Am I more like a person who walks and talks and goes where she will, but in the knowing of who she is makes her your own.

Oh little bird?  what is the problem? You who used to flow with the wind on the storms back effortlessly, you are swimming it seems up current in your flight, and getting beaten by rain and hail in the process.... What can I do for you, little bird? What can I do to help you?  You can land near me....perch on my shoulder. You can enjoy the veiw from the safety of my heaight. You can feel loved and treasured in my presence, as I do love and treasure you.  Maybe not the way you can understand.  Maybe you need me to stop you. Maybe you need me to say "no"... Im not your parent, little bird. Im not your brother or your sister.  Im not your mother, or your father.  I wont fill those roles for you, I wont be your everything.

But

I am what I can be. I am always what I can be. Oh little bird....Dont you see? Cant you feel it? Dont you know there is so much out there?

I've heard your braggardy ways. I know the way you play your games. I know how you use your knowledge of this world to control those elements around you...then fly to higher hieghts than before to escape the meley that you create....leaving behind people who were trying to please you but couldnt because you are not pleased...and you cant understand this world? You cant understand these people? Can you love them without needing to change them?

Im not going to write a story tonight, or a poem, or any sort of attempt at some insight as to why we live or whats going to happen.  Im not interested in that....Its just that every time something moves its atoms into such a position as to be solid, it shifts into an even bigger mass of unintelligible crap.  I admit.  Im lost...and not particularly worried about if someone is coming, and if they are when....Ill wander aimlessly and enjoy this feeling of completely animated suspension from reality, because its leading somewhere....

Though every opportunity I dont take because there is a shady undergrowth hiding under the shiny surface, I wonder if that darkness is just my imagination, or if it is what is actually keeping the cloud off the ground.

Its just this:  I keep meeting people who grew up in these extremely rigid religious households.  If it wasnt the head of the family that imprinted the young impressionable minds with a totalitarian God, then it was the church.  And those people that grew in such an environment have almost innocent beauty in the face of such dirt and passionate strength in the face of such obvious weakness of mind.