((RP MODE))
Oh, drat.
There's another demon on the horizon.
Half-Drow tiefling, currently missing an eye. Likes to be clawed. Likes quirky tales of past oddity.
Puts the half-centaur to shame.
Oh, I do not have the willingness for this...let alone the capacity.
If he falls in love with me, I'm eating his other eye. That's all there is to it.
02 March, 2007
28 February, 2007
remember me through flash photography and screams
When the saint of patience dropped by, I was curled up, breathing carefully, on the couch of cuddle doom. Dark teal satin skirts lay over coarse horsehair crinolines, the weave black and stiff. Red-stained bandages covered my arms from elbows to wrists; my legs from knees to ankles.
For once he didn't ask.
For once I was grateful he didn't.
I could have told him, it was from the pain all day of putting out fires with my bare hands. From continuously reaching behind me, grabbing a bottle at random from unseen hands, and pouring it on the little blazes...and watching in despair, over and over, as they rose high and scorching, because someone else had handed me gasoline, not water. From madly rushing side to side across our great world, at first to answer to the distant screaming, and later to find any sort of mental distraction, no matter how temporary, no matter how stupid.
Amazing, that today of all days, didn't see me back at Deep Trances, buying a four-pack of Seclimine to take the edge off.
I was changeable today, as all high-stress days, but for once, it also concerned clothes.
The saint of patience, giving me some degree of his calm. I believe this is the first time in...ever...I've worn jeans and a t-shirt. Anywhere. That wasn't in some sandbox trying on clothes.
The shirt said, I never fake sarcasm. My friend--and the wife of my landlord--thought it appropriate to me at some point. I'd never worn it until tonight.
Hanging around Lumindor, all of three and a half feet tall, exactingly to belt-buckle height on most men. Which is a tad thrilling, but mostly just uncomfortable.
This was me getting lost in the forest, yet again...The saying goes, can't see the forest for the trees? Well, in Lumindor, you can't see the trees because of all the forest in the way!
And this is what happens when you fight the soul-killing fight, all day, between the fellow who's your pro-tem boss, and the woman who's your favorite hair designer, and half of Steelhead.
You get burned.
And I burned some bridges along the way, which I regret...I'm just not at my best when I'm trying to make peace with the metamorph who's intent on closing his store, while listening to the hair designer vent, and--at one surreal point--balancing the needs of a client, a very creative, but somewhat unthinking, builder, and said pro-tem boss. Who was also not thrilled with me.
At one point I had four people needing all of my attention and I just wanted to curl up under the bed and say enough. Enough. Please.
Please.
Enough.
Current build: I made the boots in the Lumindor picture. Quicky little default things, but it's nice to know I can.
For once he didn't ask.
For once I was grateful he didn't.
I could have told him, it was from the pain all day of putting out fires with my bare hands. From continuously reaching behind me, grabbing a bottle at random from unseen hands, and pouring it on the little blazes...and watching in despair, over and over, as they rose high and scorching, because someone else had handed me gasoline, not water. From madly rushing side to side across our great world, at first to answer to the distant screaming, and later to find any sort of mental distraction, no matter how temporary, no matter how stupid.
Amazing, that today of all days, didn't see me back at Deep Trances, buying a four-pack of Seclimine to take the edge off.
I was changeable today, as all high-stress days, but for once, it also concerned clothes.
The saint of patience, giving me some degree of his calm. I believe this is the first time in...ever...I've worn jeans and a t-shirt. Anywhere. That wasn't in some sandbox trying on clothes.
The shirt said, I never fake sarcasm. My friend--and the wife of my landlord--thought it appropriate to me at some point. I'd never worn it until tonight.
Hanging around Lumindor, all of three and a half feet tall, exactingly to belt-buckle height on most men. Which is a tad thrilling, but mostly just uncomfortable.
This was me getting lost in the forest, yet again...The saying goes, can't see the forest for the trees? Well, in Lumindor, you can't see the trees because of all the forest in the way!
And this is what happens when you fight the soul-killing fight, all day, between the fellow who's your pro-tem boss, and the woman who's your favorite hair designer, and half of Steelhead.
You get burned.
And I burned some bridges along the way, which I regret...I'm just not at my best when I'm trying to make peace with the metamorph who's intent on closing his store, while listening to the hair designer vent, and--at one surreal point--balancing the needs of a client, a very creative, but somewhat unthinking, builder, and said pro-tem boss. Who was also not thrilled with me.
At one point I had four people needing all of my attention and I just wanted to curl up under the bed and say enough. Enough. Please.
Please.
Enough.
Current build: I made the boots in the Lumindor picture. Quicky little default things, but it's nice to know I can.
27 February, 2007
there's an awful lot of breathing room, but I can hardly move
((RP MODE))
Today, the demon's daughter was stalked by a somewhat seen presence. Panther, she said, but I wasn't sure. She heard paws behind her, seeing things out of the corners of her glowing eyes, and saw clawmarks on a rock she paused beside.
This is where things get odd.
It formed a rune, the clawmarks. A very specific rune. This rune, in fact:
Called Naudiz, Nied or Nauthiz, depending on translation, it's a sure sign of whitewater turbulence on its way. Many translations use "restraint" as the general descriptive, but more accurately, it's "constraint".
Restraint means simply that--the act of being bound or tied in place, the holding back, the limitation placed on self or others. Constraint, on the other hand, is a slightly different animal. There is always, always the implication of force, of enslavement, even, to ideals or goals. Subjugation of the self or others, by the self or others. Inherent repression. Caustic sense of denial.
Constraint.
Nauthiz.
I've spoken of whitewater turbulence; this rune says it's coming. But it also says, we're given the chance to prepare for it. Like, being given two weeks' warning on a major flood--you still may end up underwater, but you might have some time to get emergency supplies, and get away from ground zero, if you get yourself together and think things out.
Nauthiz is the crucible, the forge that can improve character, the impetus behind forcing great change, submission of spirit to will, submission of flesh to mastery. It tells you there is strength in such alteration, even though such alteration may bring destruction and misery in its wake.
It asks you, where have you limited yourself, and why? It asks you, to what goal, what god, what end have you given your power? It tells you to take it back, return to your center, heal outward.
It says, your hurt is worthless, your pain meaningless, if it does not cause you to improve. It says, have patience, know yourself, or goddamn learn over time. It says, nothing great comes without great effort, and great effort will be required to reforge your soul.
It says...consider the uses of adversity. Consider, your soul can only know light if it understands darkness. Concentrate on your shadow side, bring light and dark into balance, see what is going wrong within, and fix that. It says, patience, and wisdom, and self-understanding, will bring revelation, but constraint and caution are the bywords.
It says, ultimately...prepare yourself. 'Cause it's gonna get bad. And the universe is saying, it's gonna get worse before it gets better. And it's telling you, prepare for it NOW or be caught unawares and suffer, more than you ever imagined you could. Prepare, rethink, find your weaknesses, seek out your flaws...understand your nature...and you just might live through it.
It also says...it never appears without reason. So heed the reason, if you can listen intently enough to hear. The universe is saying, now you change. Or you fail. Live or die. Prevail or suffer.
It's saying, it's your choice.
It's saying...if you remain the same, you'll be destroyed. So learn what's made you the way you are, and remake yourself in a better image. It's saying, this may be your last chance.
...Haven't heard from the demon's daughter since. Hopefully, what little I got through helped. I won't know, I think, right away.
Current build: Spent more time developing the photography hobby again. Going to finally open a studio, I think
Today, the demon's daughter was stalked by a somewhat seen presence. Panther, she said, but I wasn't sure. She heard paws behind her, seeing things out of the corners of her glowing eyes, and saw clawmarks on a rock she paused beside.
This is where things get odd.
It formed a rune, the clawmarks. A very specific rune. This rune, in fact:
Called Naudiz, Nied or Nauthiz, depending on translation, it's a sure sign of whitewater turbulence on its way. Many translations use "restraint" as the general descriptive, but more accurately, it's "constraint".
Restraint means simply that--the act of being bound or tied in place, the holding back, the limitation placed on self or others. Constraint, on the other hand, is a slightly different animal. There is always, always the implication of force, of enslavement, even, to ideals or goals. Subjugation of the self or others, by the self or others. Inherent repression. Caustic sense of denial.
Constraint.
Nauthiz.
I've spoken of whitewater turbulence; this rune says it's coming. But it also says, we're given the chance to prepare for it. Like, being given two weeks' warning on a major flood--you still may end up underwater, but you might have some time to get emergency supplies, and get away from ground zero, if you get yourself together and think things out.
Nauthiz is the crucible, the forge that can improve character, the impetus behind forcing great change, submission of spirit to will, submission of flesh to mastery. It tells you there is strength in such alteration, even though such alteration may bring destruction and misery in its wake.
It asks you, where have you limited yourself, and why? It asks you, to what goal, what god, what end have you given your power? It tells you to take it back, return to your center, heal outward.
It says, your hurt is worthless, your pain meaningless, if it does not cause you to improve. It says, have patience, know yourself, or goddamn learn over time. It says, nothing great comes without great effort, and great effort will be required to reforge your soul.
It says...consider the uses of adversity. Consider, your soul can only know light if it understands darkness. Concentrate on your shadow side, bring light and dark into balance, see what is going wrong within, and fix that. It says, patience, and wisdom, and self-understanding, will bring revelation, but constraint and caution are the bywords.
It says, ultimately...prepare yourself. 'Cause it's gonna get bad. And the universe is saying, it's gonna get worse before it gets better. And it's telling you, prepare for it NOW or be caught unawares and suffer, more than you ever imagined you could. Prepare, rethink, find your weaknesses, seek out your flaws...understand your nature...and you just might live through it.
It also says...it never appears without reason. So heed the reason, if you can listen intently enough to hear. The universe is saying, now you change. Or you fail. Live or die. Prevail or suffer.
It's saying, it's your choice.
It's saying...if you remain the same, you'll be destroyed. So learn what's made you the way you are, and remake yourself in a better image. It's saying, this may be your last chance.
...Haven't heard from the demon's daughter since. Hopefully, what little I got through helped. I won't know, I think, right away.
Current build: Spent more time developing the photography hobby again. Going to finally open a studio, I think
26 February, 2007
at this point you rush right through me and I start to drown
It hit me like a hammer, took me down hard. Literally--for one overlong moment I was on the grass, all of me thrown back, my sandaled feet kicking in the air feebly as I fought my own responses. I was struggling to breathe. It hurt, for a moment, brain and body linked, gasping, far from shore, far from whatever would have sustained me in that single, forever instant.
Then it was over. I was released from it. Breathing again, I stood, shaking only a little, accepting a hug from the fellow who'd watched, impassive but concerned. It was done. I was through it and out the other side. It was not the destruction I'd feared.
It was rebirth.
The demon was no longer on the profile.
The concerned fellow talked to me for a moment, made sure I was all right. Then he invited me to tour Prim & Proper's grand hall, to show me an exhibition of boudoir photography. I admit, I was surprised by who I recognized, here and there, in the shots. Still, it was an impressive undertaking. The naughty side of Victoriana, rarely seen openly in any of Caledon, yet proudly, unashamedly on display in that building, beautifully defiant.
I found myself lusting after many of the corsets and stockings, rather than the women, but it must be said, I wasn't entirely myself. I already knew where they got their opulent draperies, half-concealing most of the photographs--after all, I shop at Relic, too. But I was mostly impressed by the audacity, and the sense of play in many of the shots. I'm glad I went.
The far-too-late evening turned to morning, and, unintentionally, we parted--I had to seek sleep. I dreamt of his smile and his backlash sense of humor. I dreamt also of the demon, standing far away, full of his own regrets and mine.
It will ever be my struggle, for a time, not to try and bring him closer. But I truly believe this is the best option, my best option, his, and that it will bring us both peace.
Paradoxically, I'm growing closer to his daughter now. Not in the sense of intimate relationship--could never happen, she's too involved with a dear friend, and she is his daughter--but in the sense of friendship. It feels like it's time.
Current build: No build, fell into bed like a ton of stones, insensate within seconds
Then it was over. I was released from it. Breathing again, I stood, shaking only a little, accepting a hug from the fellow who'd watched, impassive but concerned. It was done. I was through it and out the other side. It was not the destruction I'd feared.
It was rebirth.
The demon was no longer on the profile.
The concerned fellow talked to me for a moment, made sure I was all right. Then he invited me to tour Prim & Proper's grand hall, to show me an exhibition of boudoir photography. I admit, I was surprised by who I recognized, here and there, in the shots. Still, it was an impressive undertaking. The naughty side of Victoriana, rarely seen openly in any of Caledon, yet proudly, unashamedly on display in that building, beautifully defiant.
I found myself lusting after many of the corsets and stockings, rather than the women, but it must be said, I wasn't entirely myself. I already knew where they got their opulent draperies, half-concealing most of the photographs--after all, I shop at Relic, too. But I was mostly impressed by the audacity, and the sense of play in many of the shots. I'm glad I went.
The far-too-late evening turned to morning, and, unintentionally, we parted--I had to seek sleep. I dreamt of his smile and his backlash sense of humor. I dreamt also of the demon, standing far away, full of his own regrets and mine.
It will ever be my struggle, for a time, not to try and bring him closer. But I truly believe this is the best option, my best option, his, and that it will bring us both peace.
Paradoxically, I'm growing closer to his daughter now. Not in the sense of intimate relationship--could never happen, she's too involved with a dear friend, and she is his daughter--but in the sense of friendship. It feels like it's time.
Current build: No build, fell into bed like a ton of stones, insensate within seconds
24 February, 2007
so I hung my head and I cried
The saint who brings me patience, and I, must needs be more patient still, because his schedule and mine of late have proven incompatible for long-term anything--from talking, to cuddling, to...whatever else.
He's also got a very old song quoted on his profile, for me. And it's a joyful, and a terrible, thing.
This is the song:
The other night dear, as I lay sleeping
I dreamed I held you in my arms
But when I awoke, dear, I was mistaken
So I hung my head and I cried.
You are my sunshine, my only sunshine
You make me happy when skies are gray
You'll never know dear, how much I love you
Please don't take my sunshine away
I'll always love you and make you happy,
If you will only say the same.
But if you leave me and love another,
You'll regret it all some day:
You are my sunshine, my only sunshine
You make me happy when skies are gray
You'll never know dear, how much I love you
Please don't take my sunshine away
You told me once, dear, you really loved me
And no one else could come between.
But not you've left me and love another;
You have shattered all of my dreams:
You are my sunshine, my only sunshine
You make me happy when skies are gray
You'll never know dear, how much I love you
Please don't take my sunshine away
In all my dreams, dear, you seem to leave me
When I awake my poor heart pains.
So when you come back and make me happy
I'll forgive you dear, I'll take all the blame.
You are my sunshine, my only sunshine
You make me happy when skies are gray
You'll never know dear, how much I love you
Please don't take my sunshine away...
(this version of "You Are My Sunshine" is a variant; it's taken from the O Brother Where Art Thou soundtrack. It's actually slightly more depressing than the original...but not by much.)
I hate the fact that he feels as if I've hurt him. But I've also been thinking about it, and...he's right. I have been. I have been inattentive, I have been more open with otherloves than with him, I have been willing to make time for others over him.
I have been careless with his heart, the gift of his spirit, and his love. This must stop. I do not wish to cause him pain, because of some disregarded whim, because of some mis-thought impulse, because of..because of anything I can change.
We're still working through some of the reasons I can't, and that is good...but being unwilling to change things I can change...that's going to kill us.
And I do not want that to happen.
Current build: Sorting through my inventory and FINALLY finding out what all those "Object" files are! It's going to take a while...
He's also got a very old song quoted on his profile, for me. And it's a joyful, and a terrible, thing.
This is the song:
The other night dear, as I lay sleeping
I dreamed I held you in my arms
But when I awoke, dear, I was mistaken
So I hung my head and I cried.
You are my sunshine, my only sunshine
You make me happy when skies are gray
You'll never know dear, how much I love you
Please don't take my sunshine away
I'll always love you and make you happy,
If you will only say the same.
But if you leave me and love another,
You'll regret it all some day:
You are my sunshine, my only sunshine
You make me happy when skies are gray
You'll never know dear, how much I love you
Please don't take my sunshine away
You told me once, dear, you really loved me
And no one else could come between.
But not you've left me and love another;
You have shattered all of my dreams:
You are my sunshine, my only sunshine
You make me happy when skies are gray
You'll never know dear, how much I love you
Please don't take my sunshine away
In all my dreams, dear, you seem to leave me
When I awake my poor heart pains.
So when you come back and make me happy
I'll forgive you dear, I'll take all the blame.
You are my sunshine, my only sunshine
You make me happy when skies are gray
You'll never know dear, how much I love you
Please don't take my sunshine away...
(this version of "You Are My Sunshine" is a variant; it's taken from the O Brother Where Art Thou soundtrack. It's actually slightly more depressing than the original...but not by much.)
I hate the fact that he feels as if I've hurt him. But I've also been thinking about it, and...he's right. I have been. I have been inattentive, I have been more open with otherloves than with him, I have been willing to make time for others over him.
I have been careless with his heart, the gift of his spirit, and his love. This must stop. I do not wish to cause him pain, because of some disregarded whim, because of some mis-thought impulse, because of..because of anything I can change.
We're still working through some of the reasons I can't, and that is good...but being unwilling to change things I can change...that's going to kill us.
And I do not want that to happen.
Current build: Sorting through my inventory and FINALLY finding out what all those "Object" files are! It's going to take a while...
22 February, 2007
when you kiss me like a lover, then you sting me like a viper
I have decided.
I am making up a notecard. For any future involvements.
Should there be any.
1. Are you nineteen?
2. Are you a demon?
3. If no to 2, do you plan on becoming one?
4. Do you understand polyamory?
5. No, really, go away and think about it if necessary, then tell me.
6. Okay, have this link: Polyamory FAQ. Read through that. Now, do you understand polyamory?
7. Okay, it's slightly more technical, but read through this link: Polyamory Wikipedia Entry. Now, do you understand polyamory?
8. Are you okay with me being polyamorous?
9. No, really, be honest, it's an important question.
10. Are you monogamous?
If the answers to 1, 2 and 10 are yes...I'll end it, I'll walk away, apologise, say I'll be happy if they want to remain on the client roster...but I will not fall in love with them. I get too hurt that way.
No more.
I am making up a notecard. For any future involvements.
Should there be any.
1. Are you nineteen?
2. Are you a demon?
3. If no to 2, do you plan on becoming one?
4. Do you understand polyamory?
5. No, really, go away and think about it if necessary, then tell me.
6. Okay, have this link: Polyamory FAQ. Read through that. Now, do you understand polyamory?
7. Okay, it's slightly more technical, but read through this link: Polyamory Wikipedia Entry. Now, do you understand polyamory?
8. Are you okay with me being polyamorous?
9. No, really, be honest, it's an important question.
10. Are you monogamous?
If the answers to 1, 2 and 10 are yes...I'll end it, I'll walk away, apologise, say I'll be happy if they want to remain on the client roster...but I will not fall in love with them. I get too hurt that way.
No more.
21 February, 2007
here in November in this house of leaves we'll pray
and he wants to talk
Of course he does. Of course the demon is not out of my life. Of course, it's not that easy.
Not that yesterday was, for anyone involved.
Just one more time
For the sake of sanity
Tell me why
Explain the gravity
That drove you to this
That brought you to this place
That pushed you down
Into the soil's embrace
But he wants to talk. And now the walls go up, and I must sigh and begin to climb. For my walls rising, that's instinct, self-preservation at its most primal, and I...I am unwilling, now, to be so harshly protected.
But this will not be easy, either. I am cutting my hands on my own thorns, snagging the tender exposed skin on rusted wire offshoots of roses that never lived in light. I batter my fists against the stones, seeking any small chink in defenses I set up nearly before I understood I could. Nearly before reason I had my walls; nearly before I could spell, I had my thorns.
I've had to.
Give me the chance
I was denied
To sit and talk with you
For one last time
I pull myself, glad my form is smaller here, through a patch of crumbling masonry low on the dark earth. Reminding myself, even as I fight through, scraping skin from my arms and back, that I must return this way, and mend the breach so this cannot happen again.
Always on guard, some part of me. It gets wearying.
And I am now in my own way, as much as the demon stands in his own path. There is so much terrain to cross, mined and broken, before I reach th space where I will be free to speak. And I am reminding myself, over and over, that if hope is lost, so is love. As long as I have hope...
But then, I was not the one who spoke of endings. Just the tragedy of potential. I was not the one who walked away.
Did I disappoint you?
Did I let you down?
Did I stand on the shore
And watch you as you drowned?
Can you forgive me?
I never knew
The pain you carried
Deep inside of you.
And the problem is, none of the issues we had before parting have been resolved. My heart still loves many. His heart still does not understand. How do we resolve this now, when we could not resolve it before?
I do not want to sacrifice my neko, my cheetah, or what little ground I'm gaining, standing beneath the darkened moon. Though I have other involvements, and I am attached to them also...those I love in truth are growing fewer. There's been some...unanticipated attrition of late.
I can't forget
Having to see
The words that knocked the wind
Right out of me
It's not enough
I've come undone
Trying to find sense
Where there is none
What I'm left with is the desperate desire not to lose any more. Though my heart is already considering the demon lost.
But he wants to talk.
And I stand beyond my walls, sighing. Hills and valleys, depths and shattered rises, broken stones and forgotten inlets stretch out in twilight view. Forty-seven miles of barbed wire, between me and his side.
Just give me peace
You owe me that
To help ward off the fears
I must combat
This won't be easy. Nothing of worth is. But this...this is going to be rough, I think.
It's my curse. I cannot turn away from pain. Even if it causes me pain in return.
And so I ask
For one more chance
To understand
This senseless circumstance
Help me to see
This through your eyes
The reasons I've been trying
To surmise
(words taken from "Disappoint" by Assemblage 23)
Current build: A series of strange and bizarre structures I then deleted due to oddity, yesterday. Today: working off and on finishing adding poses to my first cuddle rug. There's a skewed balance to that...
Of course he does. Of course the demon is not out of my life. Of course, it's not that easy.
Not that yesterday was, for anyone involved.
Just one more time
For the sake of sanity
Tell me why
Explain the gravity
That drove you to this
That brought you to this place
That pushed you down
Into the soil's embrace
But he wants to talk. And now the walls go up, and I must sigh and begin to climb. For my walls rising, that's instinct, self-preservation at its most primal, and I...I am unwilling, now, to be so harshly protected.
But this will not be easy, either. I am cutting my hands on my own thorns, snagging the tender exposed skin on rusted wire offshoots of roses that never lived in light. I batter my fists against the stones, seeking any small chink in defenses I set up nearly before I understood I could. Nearly before reason I had my walls; nearly before I could spell, I had my thorns.
I've had to.
Give me the chance
I was denied
To sit and talk with you
For one last time
I pull myself, glad my form is smaller here, through a patch of crumbling masonry low on the dark earth. Reminding myself, even as I fight through, scraping skin from my arms and back, that I must return this way, and mend the breach so this cannot happen again.
Always on guard, some part of me. It gets wearying.
And I am now in my own way, as much as the demon stands in his own path. There is so much terrain to cross, mined and broken, before I reach th space where I will be free to speak. And I am reminding myself, over and over, that if hope is lost, so is love. As long as I have hope...
But then, I was not the one who spoke of endings. Just the tragedy of potential. I was not the one who walked away.
Did I disappoint you?
Did I let you down?
Did I stand on the shore
And watch you as you drowned?
Can you forgive me?
I never knew
The pain you carried
Deep inside of you.
And the problem is, none of the issues we had before parting have been resolved. My heart still loves many. His heart still does not understand. How do we resolve this now, when we could not resolve it before?
I do not want to sacrifice my neko, my cheetah, or what little ground I'm gaining, standing beneath the darkened moon. Though I have other involvements, and I am attached to them also...those I love in truth are growing fewer. There's been some...unanticipated attrition of late.
I can't forget
Having to see
The words that knocked the wind
Right out of me
It's not enough
I've come undone
Trying to find sense
Where there is none
What I'm left with is the desperate desire not to lose any more. Though my heart is already considering the demon lost.
But he wants to talk.
And I stand beyond my walls, sighing. Hills and valleys, depths and shattered rises, broken stones and forgotten inlets stretch out in twilight view. Forty-seven miles of barbed wire, between me and his side.
Just give me peace
You owe me that
To help ward off the fears
I must combat
This won't be easy. Nothing of worth is. But this...this is going to be rough, I think.
It's my curse. I cannot turn away from pain. Even if it causes me pain in return.
And so I ask
For one more chance
To understand
This senseless circumstance
Help me to see
This through your eyes
The reasons I've been trying
To surmise
(words taken from "Disappoint" by Assemblage 23)
Current build: A series of strange and bizarre structures I then deleted due to oddity, yesterday. Today: working off and on finishing adding poses to my first cuddle rug. There's a skewed balance to that...
20 February, 2007
I wanted to believe as I watched your world crumble in your hands
and I look down and I'm bleeding again
another heart strike, unintentioned
unanticipated
expected nonetheless
but no idea it would go so deep, through the heart of me
patchwork's back out
spending a day walking around
in stitched and broken skin
matches the feeling
it's a needed thing
but for this, I'd be screaming
and more scars, more walls
around the heart of me that wants nothing but clear air
more barriers I have to push around
to take another risk
more pain for when I do
and more mistrust
and no way to call him back because
my hand will not move to beckon
my head counts him already gone
my heart sinks into mourning
my words fail me...
What kills me about this? I called this. I called this. I was taking bets against myself that this wouldn't happen, with the bulk of me nodding cynically, saying it would.
I wonder if there was ever a chance for the demon, for me. Ever a chance to have a moment of untainted truth. Ever a moment where hope truly won the day.
I guess not...and the list continues to grow.
No nineteen-year-olds.
Beginning to think no demons, I have bad luck with them.
Really beginning to think, no more monogamous people.
Becoming a burdensome list...
another heart strike, unintentioned
unanticipated
expected nonetheless
but no idea it would go so deep, through the heart of me
patchwork's back out
spending a day walking around
in stitched and broken skin
matches the feeling
it's a needed thing
but for this, I'd be screaming
and more scars, more walls
around the heart of me that wants nothing but clear air
more barriers I have to push around
to take another risk
more pain for when I do
and more mistrust
and no way to call him back because
my hand will not move to beckon
my head counts him already gone
my heart sinks into mourning
my words fail me...
What kills me about this? I called this. I called this. I was taking bets against myself that this wouldn't happen, with the bulk of me nodding cynically, saying it would.
I wonder if there was ever a chance for the demon, for me. Ever a chance to have a moment of untainted truth. Ever a moment where hope truly won the day.
I guess not...and the list continues to grow.
No nineteen-year-olds.
Beginning to think no demons, I have bad luck with them.
Really beginning to think, no more monogamous people.
Becoming a burdensome list...
19 February, 2007
who are the ones that bear the scar?
((RP MODE...somewhat))
It's an interesting life at times. I'm dancing now, which means I'm happy, but I'm in a collar (which doesn't work), and silks (which okay, I like, but not as an everyday 'slave' uniform, and NO HEELS--which means I'm painfully short.
Bah.
But it's making me reflective, as I dance under the House of Doves...thinking on how I see people, here, how I interact with them...the whole world comes in through my eyes, I'm a very visual girl, but also, I rely not a little on the energy behind those other eyes I see.
Here I see someone, and they hit me with the energy of their presence, before I notice what they look like. It's very odd. Those I only see the surface on, don't pick up any glittering energy trail, they're just..there's no there, there. If that makes sense.
Like the woman here who reads as all electrical spark, and the movement of great masses of crackling charge, to me--rather than woman. Or the fellow who reads to me as rock, smoothed by time, warmed by endless days of sun, so peaceful, so restful to lie against, lay my cheek against the sun-warmed surface, and feel the peace of the deep, cool center within.
All sorts of people, all sorts of mental images I associate with how they feel, mentally, to me. The friend who's mercury on a rainy day--dissipating only temporarily, always coming back together, bright as hammered light and merrily skittering along the surface of each raindrop. The man who's a walking wound, and I keep trying to find the right bandage, so he won't hurt so, breathing. He lost his SL wife here, and I think he mourns her loss more than he's told himself.
The two men I know who walk armored through all their interactions. The style of plate may be separate, but I hear them by their clinking, and I know both of them would protect me to any extremity. And the one man I know who is not armored, and who is the spare plain the winds blow over, open to starlight and sun, shade and rain, to any influence...and yet says he's unharmed.
There is a surfeit of green in his wilderness, though, so maybe he is.
The one I know who comes across as voices, heard dimly at the mouth of the dark cave...I feel if I went closer, I'd be able to understand more, but that would mean going into the cave...and something in me shudders over doing that...and the woman who's all sharp flint and steel and glass shards embedded in canyon walls, with music spiralling up, enticing people into climbing down...but at some point, the walls become weapons, and it's never a good thing when the prey gets caught...
The woman who's like the smell of baking in a warm kitchen, and the feel of arms holding close around me, and it matters not that she's sarcastic and bitchy on occasion, she still feels to me very accepting, very warm, very touchable.
---
Time passes. Time does. I've been here for a while.
This isn't everyone, but it was who came first to mind when I started thinking about this. I'm now home, wrapped in the arms of my neko fellow, staring at the crackling flames in my carved stone fireplace. Thinking. Reflecting.
Reflecting. Irony, that. I don't know how others see me. But I've always seen myself as the broken mirror. Shards of someone else's reflection, put together in ragged pattern, shining only while the light lasts. What good's a mirror when no one's there to glitter across its surface? What good's a broken mirror for, but to repeat the broken image into infinity?
But I know I'm more than that. It's just the first image that comes to mind.
On another note, the broken shards are currently reflecting a distant image. And there's no comprehension as to whether the image is walking away or getting closer. I'm living in the breathless moment between watching him walk away and watching him step into my arms. It's unusual. Usually when things are this tense, this early, I think of walking.
But that's not me, here. That's not what I do. And I can't...there's a part of me that's had enough, enough drama, enough complication, enough...enough. But...
...there is another part that holds to hope. And while there is hope, there has to be potential. It should be one of the inviolate rules of the multiverse.
Broken mirror bits or not...hope should be true.
A scream a shout far in the distance
Maybe the first or second floor
Curtains colouring the windows
Never see behind closed doors
A silent siege behind politeness
Domestic harmony for show
Lost in the mirage of a marriage
Outside a world she'll never know
And as I see through the real you
I'm falling straight into
A thousand broken mirrors
I can't hide
And outside the bright lights
Can't hide the pain inside
And I've broken a thousand mirrors
Now it's time
Now it's time
Now it's time
Now it's time...
Loving her children with a passion
Protecting them at any cost
Taking the only course of action
There's no more bridges left to cross
Who are the ones that are the guilty?
Who are the ones that bear the scar?
We must not leave our sisters bleeding
We sing this song for Tsoora Shah
And as I see through the real you
I'm falling straight into
A thousand broken mirrors
I can't hide
And outside the bright lights
Can't hide the pain inside
And I've broken a thousand mirrors
Now it's time
Now it's time
Now it's time
Now it's time...
("1000 Mirrors", Asian Dub Foundation)
It's an interesting life at times. I'm dancing now, which means I'm happy, but I'm in a collar (which doesn't work), and silks (which okay, I like, but not as an everyday 'slave' uniform, and NO HEELS--which means I'm painfully short.
Bah.
But it's making me reflective, as I dance under the House of Doves...thinking on how I see people, here, how I interact with them...the whole world comes in through my eyes, I'm a very visual girl, but also, I rely not a little on the energy behind those other eyes I see.
Here I see someone, and they hit me with the energy of their presence, before I notice what they look like. It's very odd. Those I only see the surface on, don't pick up any glittering energy trail, they're just..there's no there, there. If that makes sense.
Like the woman here who reads as all electrical spark, and the movement of great masses of crackling charge, to me--rather than woman. Or the fellow who reads to me as rock, smoothed by time, warmed by endless days of sun, so peaceful, so restful to lie against, lay my cheek against the sun-warmed surface, and feel the peace of the deep, cool center within.
All sorts of people, all sorts of mental images I associate with how they feel, mentally, to me. The friend who's mercury on a rainy day--dissipating only temporarily, always coming back together, bright as hammered light and merrily skittering along the surface of each raindrop. The man who's a walking wound, and I keep trying to find the right bandage, so he won't hurt so, breathing. He lost his SL wife here, and I think he mourns her loss more than he's told himself.
The two men I know who walk armored through all their interactions. The style of plate may be separate, but I hear them by their clinking, and I know both of them would protect me to any extremity. And the one man I know who is not armored, and who is the spare plain the winds blow over, open to starlight and sun, shade and rain, to any influence...and yet says he's unharmed.
There is a surfeit of green in his wilderness, though, so maybe he is.
The one I know who comes across as voices, heard dimly at the mouth of the dark cave...I feel if I went closer, I'd be able to understand more, but that would mean going into the cave...and something in me shudders over doing that...and the woman who's all sharp flint and steel and glass shards embedded in canyon walls, with music spiralling up, enticing people into climbing down...but at some point, the walls become weapons, and it's never a good thing when the prey gets caught...
The woman who's like the smell of baking in a warm kitchen, and the feel of arms holding close around me, and it matters not that she's sarcastic and bitchy on occasion, she still feels to me very accepting, very warm, very touchable.
---
Time passes. Time does. I've been here for a while.
This isn't everyone, but it was who came first to mind when I started thinking about this. I'm now home, wrapped in the arms of my neko fellow, staring at the crackling flames in my carved stone fireplace. Thinking. Reflecting.
Reflecting. Irony, that. I don't know how others see me. But I've always seen myself as the broken mirror. Shards of someone else's reflection, put together in ragged pattern, shining only while the light lasts. What good's a mirror when no one's there to glitter across its surface? What good's a broken mirror for, but to repeat the broken image into infinity?
But I know I'm more than that. It's just the first image that comes to mind.
On another note, the broken shards are currently reflecting a distant image. And there's no comprehension as to whether the image is walking away or getting closer. I'm living in the breathless moment between watching him walk away and watching him step into my arms. It's unusual. Usually when things are this tense, this early, I think of walking.
But that's not me, here. That's not what I do. And I can't...there's a part of me that's had enough, enough drama, enough complication, enough...enough. But...
...there is another part that holds to hope. And while there is hope, there has to be potential. It should be one of the inviolate rules of the multiverse.
Broken mirror bits or not...hope should be true.
A scream a shout far in the distance
Maybe the first or second floor
Curtains colouring the windows
Never see behind closed doors
A silent siege behind politeness
Domestic harmony for show
Lost in the mirage of a marriage
Outside a world she'll never know
And as I see through the real you
I'm falling straight into
A thousand broken mirrors
I can't hide
And outside the bright lights
Can't hide the pain inside
And I've broken a thousand mirrors
Now it's time
Now it's time
Now it's time
Now it's time...
Loving her children with a passion
Protecting them at any cost
Taking the only course of action
There's no more bridges left to cross
Who are the ones that are the guilty?
Who are the ones that bear the scar?
We must not leave our sisters bleeding
We sing this song for Tsoora Shah
And as I see through the real you
I'm falling straight into
A thousand broken mirrors
I can't hide
And outside the bright lights
Can't hide the pain inside
And I've broken a thousand mirrors
Now it's time
Now it's time
Now it's time
Now it's time...
("1000 Mirrors", Asian Dub Foundation)
dark and dangerous like a secret
He said, do you feel distance between us again? I had to smile sadly, and say yes. I told him how I felt it was happening, I told him how I thought it might be something he just had to be, to do. He was quiet and reflective and bid me goodnight early, and left.
He said, now you know everything about me. Now there are no more secrets. Now you will hate me and turn your face away. And he started to turn, in fact, to leave and never speak to me again, and I caught his sleeve, shaking my head. What did it matter, I told him, what did any of it matter, save for we cared for each other? He shook his head and left, possibly unconvinced.
He said, I should rest. I should care for myself. He hugged me many, many times, and I sighed, smiling, and asked if this meant he was no longer client, but friend. He smiled ruefully, saying he thought it was better this way. I shrugged, because I need clients, or I'm never going to make rent, but...I also agree. I've grown to care for him more than I thought I would, and he offers me the solace of his shoulder to cry on, or a listening ear, when I desire it. These are very good things.
He said, he was nervous. It had been so long since we'd been together without him having to leave, or my having to leave, so long since nothing untoward has happened....he was nervous with me. Nerves on both sides made us tentative with each other, then made me desperate and him teasing, and once we figured out the piano wasn't going to fall from the cloudless sky...made us both a little crazed. The distraction I'd sought, the physical joy to ease the heart's distress...suddenly I was weaving on my feet, shuddering and exhausted, overjoyed but wanting to stop...which is not something I usually need or want. He laughed, agreeing with me, but full of his old confidence again...so I can't begrudge the time spent.
And he said...damn it, girl, where are you, I need to you to take pictures for me...and I very nearly laughed in his face. Not to disrespect him, or to hurt him, but after the night I had...oh, it was just too funny.
At least he's never wanted to join the circle of existing challenges to love and limb...he just wants me to work for him, and contact people, and bring him what I've found.
Though, on occasion, he does wonder what it would be like...and I've admitted, I do too.
But one more spark of magnesium intensity, bright and flaring, I do not need...too much intensity in my life makes my heart race, and not in good ways. Plus, I'm slightly out of balance now, juggling the hearts I have...I truly do not need more at this point.
"So remember when we were driving
Driving in your car
The speed so fast I felt like I was drunk
City lights lay out before us
And your arm felt nice wrapped 'round my shoulder
And I had a feeling that I belonged
And I had a feeling I could be someone..."
("Fast Car", Tracy Chapman)
Belonging. Sometimes it's like a drug. Sometimes it's like standing in the attic, listening to the wind whistle through the empty room, wondering where the other part of me went. Sometimes I'm patient enough to wait for their return.
Sometimes I'm not.
But I'm working on it...
He said, now you know everything about me. Now there are no more secrets. Now you will hate me and turn your face away. And he started to turn, in fact, to leave and never speak to me again, and I caught his sleeve, shaking my head. What did it matter, I told him, what did any of it matter, save for we cared for each other? He shook his head and left, possibly unconvinced.
He said, I should rest. I should care for myself. He hugged me many, many times, and I sighed, smiling, and asked if this meant he was no longer client, but friend. He smiled ruefully, saying he thought it was better this way. I shrugged, because I need clients, or I'm never going to make rent, but...I also agree. I've grown to care for him more than I thought I would, and he offers me the solace of his shoulder to cry on, or a listening ear, when I desire it. These are very good things.
He said, he was nervous. It had been so long since we'd been together without him having to leave, or my having to leave, so long since nothing untoward has happened....he was nervous with me. Nerves on both sides made us tentative with each other, then made me desperate and him teasing, and once we figured out the piano wasn't going to fall from the cloudless sky...made us both a little crazed. The distraction I'd sought, the physical joy to ease the heart's distress...suddenly I was weaving on my feet, shuddering and exhausted, overjoyed but wanting to stop...which is not something I usually need or want. He laughed, agreeing with me, but full of his old confidence again...so I can't begrudge the time spent.
And he said...damn it, girl, where are you, I need to you to take pictures for me...and I very nearly laughed in his face. Not to disrespect him, or to hurt him, but after the night I had...oh, it was just too funny.
At least he's never wanted to join the circle of existing challenges to love and limb...he just wants me to work for him, and contact people, and bring him what I've found.
Though, on occasion, he does wonder what it would be like...and I've admitted, I do too.
But one more spark of magnesium intensity, bright and flaring, I do not need...too much intensity in my life makes my heart race, and not in good ways. Plus, I'm slightly out of balance now, juggling the hearts I have...I truly do not need more at this point.
"So remember when we were driving
Driving in your car
The speed so fast I felt like I was drunk
City lights lay out before us
And your arm felt nice wrapped 'round my shoulder
And I had a feeling that I belonged
And I had a feeling I could be someone..."
("Fast Car", Tracy Chapman)
Belonging. Sometimes it's like a drug. Sometimes it's like standing in the attic, listening to the wind whistle through the empty room, wondering where the other part of me went. Sometimes I'm patient enough to wait for their return.
Sometimes I'm not.
But I'm working on it...
18 February, 2007
sitting here in limbo waiting for the dice to roll
Well...the upshot is...I have oiran hair.
Sort of.
I made my first hair today, and...it's not pretty, but I'm hoping I can disguise it enough to pass at tonight's formal in Steelhead.
The beginning of the hair.
The hair base from the side...
...and from the back.
Making the flexi strands (attaching them to a small round ball, because I couldn't think of how else to do it--this is making the strands flexi, then taking off the checkmark in the 'Flexible Path' box so that I can attach them to a non-flexi center.
Flexi attached. Along with a small nearly football-shaped front piece adapted from a circle form, and two curved side pieces for the sides of the hair that are tautly pulled back over a form in RL.
Nearly finished hair...
...and from the back....
...and done.
But here's my problem--as simple and uninvolved as this is, it took me five hours to complete. And, from what I've been able to find, there is nothing like this I've seen in world. How annoying.
On the plus side...if I get good at this...I am SO selling geisha and oiran hairpieces.
Current build: Built. Oiran hair. But there may be more styles in my future, and better hair textures when I can afford them.
Sort of.
I made my first hair today, and...it's not pretty, but I'm hoping I can disguise it enough to pass at tonight's formal in Steelhead.
The beginning of the hair.
The hair base from the side...
...and from the back.
Making the flexi strands (attaching them to a small round ball, because I couldn't think of how else to do it--this is making the strands flexi, then taking off the checkmark in the 'Flexible Path' box so that I can attach them to a non-flexi center.
Flexi attached. Along with a small nearly football-shaped front piece adapted from a circle form, and two curved side pieces for the sides of the hair that are tautly pulled back over a form in RL.
Nearly finished hair...
...and from the back....
...and done.
But here's my problem--as simple and uninvolved as this is, it took me five hours to complete. And, from what I've been able to find, there is nothing like this I've seen in world. How annoying.
On the plus side...if I get good at this...I am SO selling geisha and oiran hairpieces.
Current build: Built. Oiran hair. But there may be more styles in my future, and better hair textures when I can afford them.
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