Wednesday, December 22, 2010
Wednesday, December 15, 2010
Disturbed Nights
Scattering thoughts, fidgeting
awake in the dark
silent still hours. Shadows
flickering across the ceiling,
pinned beneath the covers,
probing for unfamiliar comfort.
Overtaken by solitude, breathing
cool damp night air,
pondering realities decisions
hoping to drift away. Moonlight
shines through the window,
spotlighting impatience.
Awareness begins to blur,
images fade like memories.
Fear, loneliness, uncertain
emotions dissipate,
body and mind succumb.
Restlessness gives in
dreams surrender to sleep.
awake in the dark
silent still hours. Shadows
flickering across the ceiling,
pinned beneath the covers,
probing for unfamiliar comfort.
Overtaken by solitude, breathing
cool damp night air,
pondering realities decisions
hoping to drift away. Moonlight
shines through the window,
spotlighting impatience.
Awareness begins to blur,
images fade like memories.
Fear, loneliness, uncertain
emotions dissipate,
body and mind succumb.
Restlessness gives in
dreams surrender to sleep.
I was Waiting
In her room she sat, gazing out the window, watching the darkness consume the sky. Unable to formulate her thoughts and words she grew frustrated and tired, tapping her pencil insistently upon the desk. In front of her a barren piece of paper, glaring up at her, begging for her to bring life to it. Hoping to refresh her mind and spirit she opened the window. The cool night air rushed in upon her, tossing the paper to the floor. As she lunged to seize the paper, the window slammed shut.
From downstairs her roommate called, “Julia, are you alright up there?”
Julia responded, “It was just the window, I am fine.” She placed her paper back on the desk, regrouped her thoughts, and sat back down to begin trying to write. She was absorbed by poetry, loved the idea of love, and wanted desperately to be able to produce a work of value, a work she could be proud of.
As she touched her pencil to the paper she heard a voice whisper, “Julia, why haven’t you written anything?”
She looked around the room startled, the hair standing up on the back of her neck. She knew she was the only one upstairs, nothing but dusty old knick-knacks, overflowing bookshelves, and aged eerie family photographs left by previous tenants surrounding her. Convinced her mind was only imagining things, her mouth felt dry, as if it were full of cotton, she ventured downstairs for a glass of water. Returning upstairs she decided to leave her bedroom door propped open, hoping to not feel so unnerved, so alone. With an intense need to be freed from her mind, she forced out the anxious feelings and began devising her words aloud. “My mind restless, the night is quiet and still, shadows dance above me on the ceiling.” Without warning the bedroom door slammed shut.
Again startled by the noise her roommate called out, “Julia, what is going on up there?” Julia did not respond. Her roommate called out again, “Answer me Julia; what are you doing?” Still getting no response Julia’s roommate grew concerned and started up the stairs to check on her. She knocked on the door, listening for shuffling or movement, there was nothing but silence. She opened the door, dropped to her knees, and began screaming with horror. Splattered on the walls and ceiling were blood, dark red stains, dripping into shallow pools on the floor. Julia’s body was lifeless and slumped over her desk.
On the piece of paper were the words, “I was waiting.”
From downstairs her roommate called, “Julia, are you alright up there?”
Julia responded, “It was just the window, I am fine.” She placed her paper back on the desk, regrouped her thoughts, and sat back down to begin trying to write. She was absorbed by poetry, loved the idea of love, and wanted desperately to be able to produce a work of value, a work she could be proud of.
As she touched her pencil to the paper she heard a voice whisper, “Julia, why haven’t you written anything?”
She looked around the room startled, the hair standing up on the back of her neck. She knew she was the only one upstairs, nothing but dusty old knick-knacks, overflowing bookshelves, and aged eerie family photographs left by previous tenants surrounding her. Convinced her mind was only imagining things, her mouth felt dry, as if it were full of cotton, she ventured downstairs for a glass of water. Returning upstairs she decided to leave her bedroom door propped open, hoping to not feel so unnerved, so alone. With an intense need to be freed from her mind, she forced out the anxious feelings and began devising her words aloud. “My mind restless, the night is quiet and still, shadows dance above me on the ceiling.” Without warning the bedroom door slammed shut.
Again startled by the noise her roommate called out, “Julia, what is going on up there?” Julia did not respond. Her roommate called out again, “Answer me Julia; what are you doing?” Still getting no response Julia’s roommate grew concerned and started up the stairs to check on her. She knocked on the door, listening for shuffling or movement, there was nothing but silence. She opened the door, dropped to her knees, and began screaming with horror. Splattered on the walls and ceiling were blood, dark red stains, dripping into shallow pools on the floor. Julia’s body was lifeless and slumped over her desk.
On the piece of paper were the words, “I was waiting.”
Saturday, November 27, 2010
Friday, November 26, 2010
hungry?
It has been nearly 8 months since my last intense struggle with my eating disorder... I thought I had finally progressed enough, I thought I had overcome it for the most part... unfortunately I have relapsed and become victim to it again... I had forgotten how painful it could be... starving yourself for no logical reason... I know that it is a psychological issue... I am aware it could have a potentially fatal outcome... still I don't know how to stop doing it... I don't know how to escape it...
It is a feeling like no other I have ever experienced... exhausting and painful on so many different levels... mentally, emotionally, and physically...
It begins slowly... I can feel my body growing tired... my strength weakening... my mind growing fuzzy... my life begins to shift... I become unable to clearly connect thoughts... I lose all ability to reason or think normally... I become withdrawn... feeling constantly and uncontrollably agitated with everyone and everything around me... the pain and nausea in my stomach becomes unbearable... I begin throwing up repeatedly... my body frantically searching for any sign of that which sustains life... I become drained emotionally... unable to process feelings... my emotions run together and become entirely random... my anxiety takes over... I become unable to breathe or find comfort of any kind... I become unsure if my thoughts and feelings are even real... I know that I am killing myself slowly... but I am unable to even think about allowing myself to eat... even if it means collapsing in the floor as a result... even if it means losing my life...
It is very frightening... I have asked many times "why do I keep doing this to myself"... still I am unable to formulate a solid reason... maybe it is a distraction technique... maybe it is my giving up on myself and life... maybe something is just fucked up in my head... I don't know why...
I do know that it makes me become someone that I am not... It makes me hate who I am... It makes me feel completely worthless as an individual... It makes me act out in ways that are entirely untypical of my normal behavior... It makes me hurt the people around me... It makes me hurt the people that I love... It makes me hurt myself... It makes me hate being alive... It turns me into a monster... It destroys my life...
I am ashamed... yet unable to find a way out... unable to find anyone who understands... unable to find anyone who will listen... unable to find anyone who is willing to help... I am alone... facing struggles that may one day take what is left of my life from me if I cannot learn to gain control...
It is a feeling like no other I have ever experienced... exhausting and painful on so many different levels... mentally, emotionally, and physically...
It begins slowly... I can feel my body growing tired... my strength weakening... my mind growing fuzzy... my life begins to shift... I become unable to clearly connect thoughts... I lose all ability to reason or think normally... I become withdrawn... feeling constantly and uncontrollably agitated with everyone and everything around me... the pain and nausea in my stomach becomes unbearable... I begin throwing up repeatedly... my body frantically searching for any sign of that which sustains life... I become drained emotionally... unable to process feelings... my emotions run together and become entirely random... my anxiety takes over... I become unable to breathe or find comfort of any kind... I become unsure if my thoughts and feelings are even real... I know that I am killing myself slowly... but I am unable to even think about allowing myself to eat... even if it means collapsing in the floor as a result... even if it means losing my life...
It is very frightening... I have asked many times "why do I keep doing this to myself"... still I am unable to formulate a solid reason... maybe it is a distraction technique... maybe it is my giving up on myself and life... maybe something is just fucked up in my head... I don't know why...
I do know that it makes me become someone that I am not... It makes me hate who I am... It makes me feel completely worthless as an individual... It makes me act out in ways that are entirely untypical of my normal behavior... It makes me hurt the people around me... It makes me hurt the people that I love... It makes me hurt myself... It makes me hate being alive... It turns me into a monster... It destroys my life...
I am ashamed... yet unable to find a way out... unable to find anyone who understands... unable to find anyone who will listen... unable to find anyone who is willing to help... I am alone... facing struggles that may one day take what is left of my life from me if I cannot learn to gain control...
Thursday, November 11, 2010
A poem
Thinking of you this evening, I think
of mystery; I think of umbrellas of
crystal Shading a cinnamon sea; I
think of swallow-tailed shadows
Enveloping history; And the past
becomes the future, And the present
is yet to be; And life is a
rain-swept mirror Through which
perpetually A girl with bright hair
flowing, Dappled dark coat
blowing, Into the unknown,
knowing, Walks with me.
of mystery; I think of umbrellas of
crystal Shading a cinnamon sea; I
think of swallow-tailed shadows
Enveloping history; And the past
becomes the future, And the present
is yet to be; And life is a
rain-swept mirror Through which
perpetually A girl with bright hair
flowing, Dappled dark coat
blowing, Into the unknown,
knowing, Walks with me.
Monday, November 1, 2010
Saturday, October 30, 2010
Wednesday, October 20, 2010
I'm Nobody! Who Are You?
I'm nobody! Who are you?
Are you nobody, too?
Then there's a pair of us — don't tell!
They'd banish us, you know.
How dreary to be somebody!
How public, like a frog
To tell your name the livelong day
To an admiring bog!
Are you nobody, too?
Then there's a pair of us — don't tell!
They'd banish us, you know.
How dreary to be somebody!
How public, like a frog
To tell your name the livelong day
To an admiring bog!
Tuesday, October 5, 2010
E. E. Cummings Poetry
i like my body when it is with your
i like my body when it is with your
body. It is so quite a new thing.
Muscles better and nerves more.
i like your body. i like what it does,
i like its hows. i like to feel the spine
of your body and its bones, and the trembling
-firm-smooth ness and which i will
again and again and again
kiss, i like kissing this and that of you,
i like, slowly stroking the, shocking fuzz
of your electric fur, and what-is-it comes
over parting flesh . . . . And eyes big love-crumbs,
and possibly i like the thrill
of under me you quite so new
love is a place
love is a place
& through this place of
love move
(with brightness of peace)
all places
yes is a world
& in this world of
yes live
(skilfully curled)
all worlds
in spite of everything
in spite of everything
which breathes and moves,since Doom
(with white longest hands
neatening each crease)
will smooth entirely our minds
-before leaving my room
i turn,and(stooping
through the morning)kiss
this pillow,dear
where our heads lived and were.
speaking of love(of... (LV)
speaking of love(of
which Who knows the
meaning;or how dreaming
becomes
if your heart's mind)i
guess a grassblade
Thinks beyond or
around(as poems are
made)Our picking it. this
caress that laugh
both quickly signify
life's only half(through
deep weather then
or none let's feel
all)mind in mind flesh
In flesh succeeding disappear
i like my body when it is with your
body. It is so quite a new thing.
Muscles better and nerves more.
i like your body. i like what it does,
i like its hows. i like to feel the spine
of your body and its bones, and the trembling
-firm-smooth ness and which i will
again and again and again
kiss, i like kissing this and that of you,
i like, slowly stroking the, shocking fuzz
of your electric fur, and what-is-it comes
over parting flesh . . . . And eyes big love-crumbs,
and possibly i like the thrill
of under me you quite so new
love is a place
love is a place
& through this place of
love move
(with brightness of peace)
all places
yes is a world
& in this world of
yes live
(skilfully curled)
all worlds
in spite of everything
in spite of everything
which breathes and moves,since Doom
(with white longest hands
neatening each crease)
will smooth entirely our minds
-before leaving my room
i turn,and(stooping
through the morning)kiss
this pillow,dear
where our heads lived and were.
speaking of love(of... (LV)
speaking of love(of
which Who knows the
meaning;or how dreaming
becomes
if your heart's mind)i
guess a grassblade
Thinks beyond or
around(as poems are
made)Our picking it. this
caress that laugh
both quickly signify
life's only half(through
deep weather then
or none let's feel
all)mind in mind flesh
In flesh succeeding disappear
Emily Dickinson Poetry
Wild nights! Wild nights!
Wild nights! Wild nights!
Were I with thee,
Wild nights should be
Our luxury!
Futile the winds
To a heart in port,—
Done with the compass,
Done with the chart.
Rowing in Eden!
Ah! the sea!
Might I but moor
To-night in thee!
Heart, we will forget him!
Heart, we will forget him!
You and I, to-night!
You may forget the warmth he gave,
I will forget the light.
When you have done, pray tell me,
That I my thoughts may dim;
Haste! lest while you’re lagging,
I may remember him!
We outgrow love like other things
We outgrow love like other things
And put it in the drawer,
Till it an antique fashion shows
Like costumes grandsires wore.
He touched me, so I live to know
He touched me, so I live to know
That such a day, permitted so,
I groped upon his breast.
It was a boundless place to me,
And silenced, as the awful sea
Puts minor streams to rest.
And now, I ’m different from before,
As if I breathed superior air,
Or brushed a royal gown;
My feet, too, that had wandered so,
My gypsy face transfigured now
To tenderer renown.
Wild nights! Wild nights!
Were I with thee,
Wild nights should be
Our luxury!
Futile the winds
To a heart in port,—
Done with the compass,
Done with the chart.
Rowing in Eden!
Ah! the sea!
Might I but moor
To-night in thee!
Heart, we will forget him!
Heart, we will forget him!
You and I, to-night!
You may forget the warmth he gave,
I will forget the light.
When you have done, pray tell me,
That I my thoughts may dim;
Haste! lest while you’re lagging,
I may remember him!
We outgrow love like other things
We outgrow love like other things
And put it in the drawer,
Till it an antique fashion shows
Like costumes grandsires wore.
He touched me, so I live to know
He touched me, so I live to know
That such a day, permitted so,
I groped upon his breast.
It was a boundless place to me,
And silenced, as the awful sea
Puts minor streams to rest.
And now, I ’m different from before,
As if I breathed superior air,
Or brushed a royal gown;
My feet, too, that had wandered so,
My gypsy face transfigured now
To tenderer renown.
Thursday, September 16, 2010
i carry your heart with me
i carry your heart with me(i carry it in
my heart)i am never without it(anywhere
i go you go,my dear; and whatever is done
by only me is your doing,my darling)
i fear
no fate(for you are my fate,my sweet)i want
no world(for beautiful you are my world,my true)
and it's you are whatever a moon has always meant
and whatever a sun will always sing is you
here is the deepest secret nobody knows
(here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud
and the sky of the sky of a tree called life;which grows
higher than the soul can hope or mind can hide)
and this is the wonder that's keeping the stars apart
i carry your heart(i carry it in my heart)
my heart)i am never without it(anywhere
i go you go,my dear; and whatever is done
by only me is your doing,my darling)
i fear
no fate(for you are my fate,my sweet)i want
no world(for beautiful you are my world,my true)
and it's you are whatever a moon has always meant
and whatever a sun will always sing is you
here is the deepest secret nobody knows
(here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud
and the sky of the sky of a tree called life;which grows
higher than the soul can hope or mind can hide)
and this is the wonder that's keeping the stars apart
i carry your heart(i carry it in my heart)
Saturday, August 14, 2010
another glass of wine
so tender eyes
such a smile
i'm consumed again
by the look
look you throw my way
the two of us alone now
you and me
what could we
what could we get up to tonight
on our day off
away from my wife
away from your man
away from our lives
here stuck together
you and i
man see it
well lady
won't you have a
another glass of wine
maybe we can loosen up
loosen up our minds and
take this rollercoaster
into tomorrow morning
rogue kiss sweat
and say mine there tonight
i've been meaning for your eyes
and your lips
been stealing me away now
said to watch you and me walk well
i say you and i away
say be mine tonight
tomorrow we'll go back to being friends
go back to be friends
you and i
i know this smile
never felt this
and yes tonight recklessly
recklessly play
you play my game
and i'll play lovers
and can we roll
sweat kiss and live out
live out until the morning
the sun creeps up on us
tells us go home
tells us go home again
tell us to go back to our marriage
and children children children
say it
lets say i love you tonight
lets lay low
lets sip on another glass of wine
and say tonight you will be mine
well i've only taste of your love on my mouth
and taste of mine in yourself
and lets stay up
and forgive it
forgive it
and sail away today
and tomorrow go back to being friends
tomorrow go back to being friends
say oh pretty pretty pretty girl of mine
i'm taken
i'm smitten with you
oh say you will say you will over
i do i will
i play with you same and still
wandering with me
take all of it
stay with me for a moment
saying stop
not saying stop but stay
leave on my mind
oh no one's to blame
lover wait
life, oh my life
i love you
god no
oh my love my love my love
my life my life
love
say goodbye
say goodbye
say goodbye
such a smile
i'm consumed again
by the look
look you throw my way
the two of us alone now
you and me
what could we
what could we get up to tonight
on our day off
away from my wife
away from your man
away from our lives
here stuck together
you and i
man see it
well lady
won't you have a
another glass of wine
maybe we can loosen up
loosen up our minds and
take this rollercoaster
into tomorrow morning
rogue kiss sweat
and say mine there tonight
i've been meaning for your eyes
and your lips
been stealing me away now
said to watch you and me walk well
i say you and i away
say be mine tonight
tomorrow we'll go back to being friends
go back to be friends
you and i
i know this smile
never felt this
and yes tonight recklessly
recklessly play
you play my game
and i'll play lovers
and can we roll
sweat kiss and live out
live out until the morning
the sun creeps up on us
tells us go home
tells us go home again
tell us to go back to our marriage
and children children children
say it
lets say i love you tonight
lets lay low
lets sip on another glass of wine
and say tonight you will be mine
well i've only taste of your love on my mouth
and taste of mine in yourself
and lets stay up
and forgive it
forgive it
and sail away today
and tomorrow go back to being friends
tomorrow go back to being friends
say oh pretty pretty pretty girl of mine
i'm taken
i'm smitten with you
oh say you will say you will over
i do i will
i play with you same and still
wandering with me
take all of it
stay with me for a moment
saying stop
not saying stop but stay
leave on my mind
oh no one's to blame
lover wait
life, oh my life
i love you
god no
oh my love my love my love
my life my life
love
say goodbye
say goodbye
say goodbye
Saturday, August 7, 2010
What if...
What if I told you it is time for things to change between us?
What if I told you I am tired of being patient?
What if I told you I am tired of understanding?
What if I told you I give up?
What if I told you I no longer believe your reasons for staying?
What if I told you I am tired of being pushed off to the side?
What if I told you If you truly loved me you would be here with me?
What if I told you you must choose, me or her?
What if I told you whatever your decision, it will be final?
What if I told you if you choose her you will not see me again?
What if I told you I love you and choosing her would be a mistake?
What if I told you I need you?
What if I told you I can give you the twenty years of happiness you've always talked about?
What if I told you I can make you feel things other women cannot?
What if I told you I want to share your fantasies?
What if I told you I want to help you fulfill your dreams?
What if I told you I promise to give myself to no one else but you?
What if I told you my life is incomplete without you in it?
What if I told you we have what it takes to make a beautiful life together?
What if I told you I promise to forever cherish you and never cause you any pain?
What if I told you we belong together?
What if I told you all these things, would it make a difference?
What if I told you I am tired of being patient?
What if I told you I am tired of understanding?
What if I told you I give up?
What if I told you I no longer believe your reasons for staying?
What if I told you I am tired of being pushed off to the side?
What if I told you If you truly loved me you would be here with me?
What if I told you you must choose, me or her?
What if I told you whatever your decision, it will be final?
What if I told you if you choose her you will not see me again?
What if I told you I love you and choosing her would be a mistake?
What if I told you I need you?
What if I told you I can give you the twenty years of happiness you've always talked about?
What if I told you I can make you feel things other women cannot?
What if I told you I want to share your fantasies?
What if I told you I want to help you fulfill your dreams?
What if I told you I promise to give myself to no one else but you?
What if I told you my life is incomplete without you in it?
What if I told you we have what it takes to make a beautiful life together?
What if I told you I promise to forever cherish you and never cause you any pain?
What if I told you we belong together?
What if I told you all these things, would it make a difference?
Monday, August 2, 2010
Artwork I am fond of...
Title: Death and Life
Artist: Gustav Klimt
Year: 1911
Medium: Oil on canvas
Dimensions: 178 cm x 198 cm
Location: Private Collection
Title: The Agnew Clinic
Artist: Thomas Eakins
Year: 1889
Medium: Oil on canvas
Dimensions: 214 cm × 300 cm
Location: John Morgan Building at the University of Pennsylvania
Title: Dance-The Seven Arts
Artist: Salvador Dali
Year: 1957
Medium: Oil on canvas
Dimensions: 84 cm x 114 cm
Location: Private Collection
Title: Artillery Men in the Shower
Artist: Ernst Ludwig Kirchner
Year: 1915
Medium: Oil on canvas
Dimensions: 140 cm x 152 cm
Location: Solomon R. Guggenheim, New York
Title: Weeping Nude
Artist: Edvard Munch
Year: 1913
Medium: Oil on canvas
Dimensions: 110.5 cm x 135 cm
Location: The Munch Museum / The Munch-Ellingsen Group, New York
Sunday, August 1, 2010
Shattered Recollections
As a growing child I was always taught that marriage was something very special... I was taught that it was a commitment which was to be taken very seriously... as it was supposed to last forever... complete and everlasting trust, honesty, togetherness, support, happiness, love, faithfulness, compassion, unselfishness, growth, learning, pleasure in both giving and receiving... and the list goes on... point being... all characteristics that a genuine marriage should contain... all characteristics completely opposite of the ones my "so called marriage" contained...
I waisted six years of my life in a relationship with a man who in no way appreciated or loved me... His excuse for all the vicious behavior was always, "but I love you and I just don't want anything to happen to you or our relationship..." Delusional and insane... I truly believe so...
I didn't realize just how extremely horrific the situation was until I had finally escaped it completely... I was not his wife... I was a prisoner...
I was never allowed to have in my possession a key to my own home... the house we lived in had three sets of keys to both the front and back doors... two normal sets and a spare that was hanging on a nail under the porch... when I asked for a key of my own I was told no... he said the only reason I wanted a key of my own was so I could go out during the day fucking other men while he was at work... he said I had no friends, lived forty minutes from town, and therefore had no need to be going anywhere... the argument over having my own set of keys was reoccurring... no matter how many times I asked, I was always denied... followed by my being tortured for even asking... as if I had asked for something that was utterly unreasonable... so one day after he left for work I decided to crawl under the porch and get the spare set of keys... I planned on secretly keeping them for my own.. I figured, he already had two sets of keys, he would never notice the spare set missing... I crawled under the porch only to discover... no spare keys... all three sets were in his possession...
He used to go out and leave me home alone for hours at a time... I would sit at home reading, cleaning, and watching television... doing absolutely nothing wrong... one day after he left I opened the door and ventured out on the porch... when I opened the door a piece of paper fell on me... I thought nothing of it, picked it up, threw it away, and continued... when he arrived home he began throwing things, screaming at me, and accusing me of cheating on him... of course I hadn't, but defending myself was purposeless... by the time the fight was over I had discovered... the piece of paper that had fallen on me had been purposely stashed there by him upon his leaving... it was his way of finding out whether or not I had remained inside the house while he was gone...
I was never allowed to get the mail out of the mailbox... He had to go through every piece of mail that was mine before I was allowed to have it... in order to ensure that I was not cheating on him or hiding anything... the only mail I usually ever got was from my family... and if it contained money I was not allowed to keep it... I was forced to hand it over for him to manage... and my cell phone and credit card bills... as you can imagine... gone through entirely to ensure that I was not spending money or talking on the phone to anyone not permitted... the numbers that he did not recognize on the phone bill he would force me to sit down and call in his presence so that he could ensure I was not misbehaving...
When he got upset or just had a bad day and needed someone to take it out on... I was always the unlucky prey... one of his favorite things to do was kick over the trash can in the kitchen... trash would fly all over the floor and the wall, making a horribly gross mess... sometimes he would wait until I got it cleaned up and immediately kick it over again... it seemed as if he did it just so he could enjoy watching me cry, as I sit in the floor cleaning it all up...
I was never allowed to know his work schedule... if I knew what time he was going to return home I could sneak guys in and out and misbehave without getting caught... one day he returned home from work... as usual, he came in the door screaming at me... calling me names and degrading me... typically, I had done nothing wrong... he was screaming something about there being unknown vehicle tracks in the gravel driveway... he claimed that I was fucking some guy who had been there while he was at work... as usual I began trying to defend myself... pointless... it escalated into a very violent fight... the truth of the matter... no one had even been in the driveway all day... not even the mailman... it was all in his head...
I was never allowed to leave the house without being chaperoned by him... and when we did venture out in public, it was nothing but a torture session anyway... I had to walk around staring at the floor... no joke... every time I looked up or around I got accused of flirting with or looking at other guys... any adventure in public was guaranteed to lead to a domestic dispute upon returning home... it got to the point when he said he was going into town I would beg to stay at home, just to avoid the conflict... plus, I knew if I got him to go into town by himself he would wander off to a bar before returning home... this would buy me a several more hours of peace and quiet to attempt to be myself before he returned home to abuse me again...
My entire so called "married life" was agonizing hell... a nightmare that I still to this day do everything I possibly can to forget about... never did I do anything to deserve to be treated so awfully... nearly every battle was caused by his own insecurities and control issues... his imagination... his mental instability... his fear that he would lose me...
He may have physically had me... locked up as a prisoner... with no means to escape... but, he never really knew me... or anything about me for that matter... the entire marriage and everything surrounding it was a total lie...
I find happiness and peace in the fact that although I was physically, mentally, and emotionally tortured and abused by him for all those years... I never shared with him my deepest secrets, fears, needs, wants, or fantasies... I never revealed or shared with him everything that I was hiding on the inside... I never revealed to him all the little neurotic things that make me who I am...
I never truly gave myself to him... I never truly belonged to him...
I waisted six years of my life in a relationship with a man who in no way appreciated or loved me... His excuse for all the vicious behavior was always, "but I love you and I just don't want anything to happen to you or our relationship..." Delusional and insane... I truly believe so...
I didn't realize just how extremely horrific the situation was until I had finally escaped it completely... I was not his wife... I was a prisoner...
I was never allowed to have in my possession a key to my own home... the house we lived in had three sets of keys to both the front and back doors... two normal sets and a spare that was hanging on a nail under the porch... when I asked for a key of my own I was told no... he said the only reason I wanted a key of my own was so I could go out during the day fucking other men while he was at work... he said I had no friends, lived forty minutes from town, and therefore had no need to be going anywhere... the argument over having my own set of keys was reoccurring... no matter how many times I asked, I was always denied... followed by my being tortured for even asking... as if I had asked for something that was utterly unreasonable... so one day after he left for work I decided to crawl under the porch and get the spare set of keys... I planned on secretly keeping them for my own.. I figured, he already had two sets of keys, he would never notice the spare set missing... I crawled under the porch only to discover... no spare keys... all three sets were in his possession...
He used to go out and leave me home alone for hours at a time... I would sit at home reading, cleaning, and watching television... doing absolutely nothing wrong... one day after he left I opened the door and ventured out on the porch... when I opened the door a piece of paper fell on me... I thought nothing of it, picked it up, threw it away, and continued... when he arrived home he began throwing things, screaming at me, and accusing me of cheating on him... of course I hadn't, but defending myself was purposeless... by the time the fight was over I had discovered... the piece of paper that had fallen on me had been purposely stashed there by him upon his leaving... it was his way of finding out whether or not I had remained inside the house while he was gone...
I was never allowed to get the mail out of the mailbox... He had to go through every piece of mail that was mine before I was allowed to have it... in order to ensure that I was not cheating on him or hiding anything... the only mail I usually ever got was from my family... and if it contained money I was not allowed to keep it... I was forced to hand it over for him to manage... and my cell phone and credit card bills... as you can imagine... gone through entirely to ensure that I was not spending money or talking on the phone to anyone not permitted... the numbers that he did not recognize on the phone bill he would force me to sit down and call in his presence so that he could ensure I was not misbehaving...
When he got upset or just had a bad day and needed someone to take it out on... I was always the unlucky prey... one of his favorite things to do was kick over the trash can in the kitchen... trash would fly all over the floor and the wall, making a horribly gross mess... sometimes he would wait until I got it cleaned up and immediately kick it over again... it seemed as if he did it just so he could enjoy watching me cry, as I sit in the floor cleaning it all up...
I was never allowed to know his work schedule... if I knew what time he was going to return home I could sneak guys in and out and misbehave without getting caught... one day he returned home from work... as usual, he came in the door screaming at me... calling me names and degrading me... typically, I had done nothing wrong... he was screaming something about there being unknown vehicle tracks in the gravel driveway... he claimed that I was fucking some guy who had been there while he was at work... as usual I began trying to defend myself... pointless... it escalated into a very violent fight... the truth of the matter... no one had even been in the driveway all day... not even the mailman... it was all in his head...
I was never allowed to leave the house without being chaperoned by him... and when we did venture out in public, it was nothing but a torture session anyway... I had to walk around staring at the floor... no joke... every time I looked up or around I got accused of flirting with or looking at other guys... any adventure in public was guaranteed to lead to a domestic dispute upon returning home... it got to the point when he said he was going into town I would beg to stay at home, just to avoid the conflict... plus, I knew if I got him to go into town by himself he would wander off to a bar before returning home... this would buy me a several more hours of peace and quiet to attempt to be myself before he returned home to abuse me again...
My entire so called "married life" was agonizing hell... a nightmare that I still to this day do everything I possibly can to forget about... never did I do anything to deserve to be treated so awfully... nearly every battle was caused by his own insecurities and control issues... his imagination... his mental instability... his fear that he would lose me...
He may have physically had me... locked up as a prisoner... with no means to escape... but, he never really knew me... or anything about me for that matter... the entire marriage and everything surrounding it was a total lie...
I find happiness and peace in the fact that although I was physically, mentally, and emotionally tortured and abused by him for all those years... I never shared with him my deepest secrets, fears, needs, wants, or fantasies... I never revealed or shared with him everything that I was hiding on the inside... I never revealed to him all the little neurotic things that make me who I am...
I never truly gave myself to him... I never truly belonged to him...
Friday, July 30, 2010
Hidden
My world has always been odd
My entire life I've been alone
Appearing mostly normal on the outside
Feeling completely anomalous on the inside
Learning what I must do to fit in
Pretending as if it came naturally
Knowing my life would be different
Accepting all the consequences
I do not have any regrets about who I am
It is my peculiar individuality I cherish
Unpredictable and intense define my adventures
A story which is all except ordinary
My entire life I've been alone
Appearing mostly normal on the outside
Feeling completely anomalous on the inside
Learning what I must do to fit in
Pretending as if it came naturally
Knowing my life would be different
Accepting all the consequences
I do not have any regrets about who I am
It is my peculiar individuality I cherish
Unpredictable and intense define my adventures
A story which is all except ordinary
Friday, July 23, 2010
As the days pass....
I sit on my bed.... smoking a joint.... listening to Dave Matthews.... thinking.... feeling.... alone, as always.... I have been wanting to write for so long now.... I have so much that I want to get out.... yet, I have no idea how to convey it all.... I am feeling so much.... my mind is constantly racing.... thoughts of school.... financial issues.... my love.... the beautiful life that for a brief moment I was foolish enough to think was mine....
I spend so much time thinking about how the decisions that I have made in the past still effect me very much everyday.... I ponder, wondering if life will ever give me what I truly want.... I wish I could express the feelings bottled up inside of me.... I feel like I have been through so much that I just want to sit silently.... I don't want to talk about it.... I don't yet know how to even approach dealing with it all right now.... half of me is withdrawn and hiding.... the other half of me wants to stand up and just scream like a fucking crazy person....
I have never felt such an intensity of emotion.... emotion that I cannot escape or hide from.... it has changed who I am completely and forever.... I have never been more pleased with myself, who I am inside, and my educational progress.... I have finally got my self heading in the right direction for once.... I have overcome an addiction issue.... yet, I still struggle when I begin hurting.... my first instinct is to medicate and hide from the pain.... but I have learned that it only blurs the reality of it all.... I have learned to face the hurt.... I have learned to suffer through it.... taking it moment by moment.... staying sober and conquering....
I work hard at trying figure out how to triumph over my eating disorder.... although I have not yet learned how to stop the crash cycle.... everyday I am learning more and more how to recover.... I have learned that it is triggered by emotional pain.... I can feel it coming.... I can feel myself spiraling down and crashing.... I don't have control yet.... I hope that one day I will overcome this also....
I am in denial about nothing.... I have learned to confront fear and pain.... fight until it all breaks me down.... then I get back up and start the entire wonderful cycle again.... I have gone from being afraid of it all to being pissed off.... I have this deep inner me that screams Fuck You at all the hurt, addiction, and disorders.... they may get me down, but I will get back up.... and I will be stronger each time.... until one day I will succeed....
I am a very determined individual.... it drives me.... I am a stubborn asshole.... sometimes to the point of foolishness.... sometimes I feel like the line between my being so big hearted and unwise becomes indistinct.... I have learned many lessons over the past few years.... some that have cost me an entire lifetime full of happiness.... some that have and will forever lead me through the difficult times.... the times when I feel like I am surrounded by failure....
I guess one way to look at it all is.... in order to experience absolute pleasure and joy you must first experience utter suffering.... I have reached a point in my life where I am ready, determined, and completely sure about pursuing exactly what it is that I want.... I know what I need.... I know what exactly it is that I want to feel.... I know where I want to be.... although I may not have access to all of my wants and needs at this very moment.... I will never surrender....
I will not let my losses, regrets, and hurt destroy me completely.... life is all about change.... I am learning to deal with this very harsh reality.... I am learning to let go of the past in order to make way for the next crazy series of events life is going to hurl at me.... as I push full force through the madness, I will always hold on to the hope that I will one day get exactly what it is that I want....
I want him to be mine, to hold on to forever.... I want my eating disorder and addiction to be just a fading memory.... I want to continue to conquer my fears.... I want to continue to chase my desires.... I want to continue to write.... I want to continue sorting out my emotions without medication.... I want to continue to dance through the adventures of life.... learning.... discovering.... changing.... and progressing....
I spend so much time thinking about how the decisions that I have made in the past still effect me very much everyday.... I ponder, wondering if life will ever give me what I truly want.... I wish I could express the feelings bottled up inside of me.... I feel like I have been through so much that I just want to sit silently.... I don't want to talk about it.... I don't yet know how to even approach dealing with it all right now.... half of me is withdrawn and hiding.... the other half of me wants to stand up and just scream like a fucking crazy person....
I have never felt such an intensity of emotion.... emotion that I cannot escape or hide from.... it has changed who I am completely and forever.... I have never been more pleased with myself, who I am inside, and my educational progress.... I have finally got my self heading in the right direction for once.... I have overcome an addiction issue.... yet, I still struggle when I begin hurting.... my first instinct is to medicate and hide from the pain.... but I have learned that it only blurs the reality of it all.... I have learned to face the hurt.... I have learned to suffer through it.... taking it moment by moment.... staying sober and conquering....
I work hard at trying figure out how to triumph over my eating disorder.... although I have not yet learned how to stop the crash cycle.... everyday I am learning more and more how to recover.... I have learned that it is triggered by emotional pain.... I can feel it coming.... I can feel myself spiraling down and crashing.... I don't have control yet.... I hope that one day I will overcome this also....
I am in denial about nothing.... I have learned to confront fear and pain.... fight until it all breaks me down.... then I get back up and start the entire wonderful cycle again.... I have gone from being afraid of it all to being pissed off.... I have this deep inner me that screams Fuck You at all the hurt, addiction, and disorders.... they may get me down, but I will get back up.... and I will be stronger each time.... until one day I will succeed....
I am a very determined individual.... it drives me.... I am a stubborn asshole.... sometimes to the point of foolishness.... sometimes I feel like the line between my being so big hearted and unwise becomes indistinct.... I have learned many lessons over the past few years.... some that have cost me an entire lifetime full of happiness.... some that have and will forever lead me through the difficult times.... the times when I feel like I am surrounded by failure....
I guess one way to look at it all is.... in order to experience absolute pleasure and joy you must first experience utter suffering.... I have reached a point in my life where I am ready, determined, and completely sure about pursuing exactly what it is that I want.... I know what I need.... I know what exactly it is that I want to feel.... I know where I want to be.... although I may not have access to all of my wants and needs at this very moment.... I will never surrender....
I will not let my losses, regrets, and hurt destroy me completely.... life is all about change.... I am learning to deal with this very harsh reality.... I am learning to let go of the past in order to make way for the next crazy series of events life is going to hurl at me.... as I push full force through the madness, I will always hold on to the hope that I will one day get exactly what it is that I want....
I want him to be mine, to hold on to forever.... I want my eating disorder and addiction to be just a fading memory.... I want to continue to conquer my fears.... I want to continue to chase my desires.... I want to continue to write.... I want to continue sorting out my emotions without medication.... I want to continue to dance through the adventures of life.... learning.... discovering.... changing.... and progressing....
Thursday, July 15, 2010
I'll Back You Up
I remember thinking
I'll go on forever only knowing
I'll see you again
But I know
The touch of you is hard to remember
But like that touch I know no other
And for sure we have danced
In the risk of each other
Would you like to dance
Around the world with me
I'll be falling all about my own thing
And I know you're the heaviest weight
When you're not here that's hung
Around my head
And your lips burn wild
Thrown from the face of a child
And in your eyes
The seeing of the greatest view
Do what you will, always
Walk where you like, your steps
Do as you please, I'll back you up
I remember thinking
Sometimes we walk
Sometimes we run away
But I know
No matter how fast we are running
Somehow we keep
Somehow we keep up with each other
I'll be falling all about my own thing
And I know you're the heaviest weight
When you're not here that's hung
Around my head
And your lips burn wild
Thrown from the face of a child
And in your eyes
The seeing of the greatest view
Do what you will, always
Walk where you like, your steps
Do as you please, I'll back you up
I'll go on forever only knowing
I'll see you again
But I know
The touch of you is hard to remember
But like that touch I know no other
And for sure we have danced
In the risk of each other
Would you like to dance
Around the world with me
I'll be falling all about my own thing
And I know you're the heaviest weight
When you're not here that's hung
Around my head
And your lips burn wild
Thrown from the face of a child
And in your eyes
The seeing of the greatest view
Do what you will, always
Walk where you like, your steps
Do as you please, I'll back you up
I remember thinking
Sometimes we walk
Sometimes we run away
But I know
No matter how fast we are running
Somehow we keep
Somehow we keep up with each other
I'll be falling all about my own thing
And I know you're the heaviest weight
When you're not here that's hung
Around my head
And your lips burn wild
Thrown from the face of a child
And in your eyes
The seeing of the greatest view
Do what you will, always
Walk where you like, your steps
Do as you please, I'll back you up
Wednesday, May 19, 2010
Artwork I am fond of...
Title: The Arnolfini Wedding Portrait
Artist: Jan van Eyck
Year: 1434
Medium: Oil on oak panel
Dimensions: 32.4 in × 23.6 in
Location: National Gallery, London
Title: A Bar at the Folies-Bergère
Artist: Édouard Manet
Year: 1882
Medium: Oil on canvas
Dimensions: 37.8 in × 51.2 in
Location: Courtauld Institute of Art, London
Title: Suprematism
Artist: Kazimir Malevich
Year: 1915
Medium: Oil on canvas
Dimensions: 101.5 x 62 cm
Location: Stedelijk Museum, Amsterdam, Netherlands
Title: Courtyard with Lunatics
Artist: Francisco de Goya
Year: 1794
Medium: Oil on tin-plated iron
Dimensions: 43.8 x 32.7cm
Location: Meadows Museum, Dallas, Texas
Title: Archeological Reminiscence of Millet's Angelus
Artist: Salvador Dali
Year: 1935
Medium: Oil on panel
Dimensions: 31.7 x 39.3 cm
Location: Dali -Museum von St. Petersburg, Florida
Artist: Jan van Eyck
Year: 1434
Medium: Oil on oak panel
Dimensions: 32.4 in × 23.6 in
Location: National Gallery, London
Title: A Bar at the Folies-Bergère
Artist: Édouard Manet
Year: 1882
Medium: Oil on canvas
Dimensions: 37.8 in × 51.2 in
Location: Courtauld Institute of Art, London
Title: Suprematism
Artist: Kazimir Malevich
Year: 1915
Medium: Oil on canvas
Dimensions: 101.5 x 62 cm
Location: Stedelijk Museum, Amsterdam, Netherlands
Title: Courtyard with Lunatics
Artist: Francisco de Goya
Year: 1794
Medium: Oil on tin-plated iron
Dimensions: 43.8 x 32.7cm
Location: Meadows Museum, Dallas, Texas
Title: Archeological Reminiscence of Millet's Angelus
Artist: Salvador Dali
Year: 1935
Medium: Oil on panel
Dimensions: 31.7 x 39.3 cm
Location: Dali -Museum von St. Petersburg, Florida
Friday, March 26, 2010
The Study of Women
During my time in college I was a member of the Women's Studies program. Every time I have shared this tid bit of information with people, it never fails, they always have some smart ass comment to make. Most people immediately assume that the women's studies program is all about promoting the liberation and rights of women, but there are so many more interesting aspects that most are entirely oblivious of. So until you have studied the matter further, you should take your uneducated wise ass remarks and stuff them up your fat ass...... But, for all those that are intelligent enough to open your mind and realize the interesting potential of the topic matter, check the awesomeness of this shit out..... Here are some photographs and some historical information on several torture devices commonly used on women during the Medieval times.....
The chastity belt is a locking item of clothing worn mostly by women, designed to prevent rape, sexual intercourse, or temptation. Some of the devices were designed with additional features to also prevent masturbation. It was most often a jealous husband, or sometimes a controlling father, who enforced the wearing of the locking mechanism. The term “chastity belt” is also used as a metaphor in modern English to apply over protectiveness. The term carries a derisive connotation and may also imply that the subject is antiquated, or is cumbersome, or provides unnecessary or unwanted protection. According to modern myth, the chastity belt was used as an anti-temptation device during the Crusades. When the knight left for the Holy Lands on the Crusades, he would force his lady to wear a chastity belt to preserve her faithfulness to him. There is no credible evidence that chastity belts existed before the 15th century, more than one hundred years after the last Crusade.
Feared in Europe during the Medieval Times, the Pear of Anguish was an extremely painful device used to punish and torture women who committed adultery and performed abortions; also liars, blasphemers, homosexuals, and witches. The pear shaped instrument was inserted into one of the victim’s orifices: the vagina for women, the anus for homosexuals, and the mouth for liars and blasphemers. The instrument consisted of four leaves that slowly separated from each other as the torturer turned the screw at the top; increasing the pain, tearing the skin, and mutilating the victim’s orifice. The Pear of Anguish was mostly commonly used for oral punishments; it would destroy teeth, dislocate, or even break the jawbones. If introduced in the anus or vagina, it would rupture the sensitive membranes and tissues of the areas resulting in severe internal mutilation. The instrument was rarely washed, thus causing infections very frequently. Pears of Anguish still in existence are lavishly engraved or adorned to differentiate between the anal, vaginal, and oral pears. This form of torture rarely brought death, but was often followed by other torture methods.
The Chastity Belt
The chastity belt is a locking item of clothing worn mostly by women, designed to prevent rape, sexual intercourse, or temptation. Some of the devices were designed with additional features to also prevent masturbation. It was most often a jealous husband, or sometimes a controlling father, who enforced the wearing of the locking mechanism. The term “chastity belt” is also used as a metaphor in modern English to apply over protectiveness. The term carries a derisive connotation and may also imply that the subject is antiquated, or is cumbersome, or provides unnecessary or unwanted protection. According to modern myth, the chastity belt was used as an anti-temptation device during the Crusades. When the knight left for the Holy Lands on the Crusades, he would force his lady to wear a chastity belt to preserve her faithfulness to him. There is no credible evidence that chastity belts existed before the 15th century, more than one hundred years after the last Crusade. The Iron Maiden
A mantle of infamy for women and girls during the 16th century, the iron maiden is in fact a sarcophagus. The only two main differences are that it has tips all over the front door and that people died after getting in--and not before. The Iron Maiden was introduced in Germany. Even though it is commonly believed that it was used in the Middle Ages, the truth is that it was invented a few centuries later. Very few people had the misfortune of experiencing what it feels like to be trapped in this sarcophagus. Normally, the big door would be shut slowly; the tips crushing a person in agonizing pain. There was a tube in the bottom that made the victim see his own blood as it poured out of his body. The few people that did make it to this device lasted more than 2 days before death finally struck them.
The Inquisitional Chair or Spiked Chair
An instrument of torture which originated from the witch trial era, The Spiked Chair is covered with spikes on the back, arms, seat, on the leg-rests, and on the foot-rests. To make the spikes piercing the body even more effective and torturous, they also used a screw system. The bars, either made of iron or wood, fastened the victim around the waist, around the wrists, and around the chest or bust. The seat was often made of iron that could be heated. These implements were used in Germany up until the 19th century, in Italy and in Spain up until the end of the 1700s, in France and in other central European countries, according to certain sources, up until the end of 1800.
The Branks
The Branks or Scold's Bridle is a sort of metal gag, which was principally used on scolding housewives. It was typically fashioned as a cage that locked onto the head, aided by a metal protrusion that fit into the mouth. This tongue-piece was often enhanced with spikes or a rowel (small spiked wheel) to discourage attempts to speak. They appear to have originated in Scotland in the 16th century and passed from there to England and thence to the Americas, although there is some evidence that a type of branks may have been used even earlier. Some were also fitted with a chain to permit securing the wearer in a public place. Ancient houses in Congleton, Cheshire had a hook fixed beside the fireplace to which the town gaoler could fix the community bridle if the wife nagged too much. Occasionally a bell on a spring was added to herald the approach of the wearer. An example of this type is on display in the Torture Chamber of the Tower of London. Branks were also used to silence witches to prevent them from chanting or reciting their magic spells. In the Americas, the branks were a type of humiliation punishment, while in medieval Europe, they were used more as a torture device.
The Breast Ripper
Cold or red-hot, the four claws slowly ripped to formless masses the breasts of countless women condemned for heresy, blasphemy, adultery and many other “libidinous acts”, self-induced abortion, erotic white magic and other crimes. In various places at various times –in some regions of France and Germany until the early nineteenth century– a “bite” with a red-hot ripper was inflicted upon one breast of unmarried mothers, often whilst their creatures, splattered with maternal blood, writhed on the ground at their feet. Besides the punitive function, breast-ripping also served as an interrogational and juridical procedure.
The Pear of Anguish
Feared in Europe during the Medieval Times, the Pear of Anguish was an extremely painful device used to punish and torture women who committed adultery and performed abortions; also liars, blasphemers, homosexuals, and witches. The pear shaped instrument was inserted into one of the victim’s orifices: the vagina for women, the anus for homosexuals, and the mouth for liars and blasphemers. The instrument consisted of four leaves that slowly separated from each other as the torturer turned the screw at the top; increasing the pain, tearing the skin, and mutilating the victim’s orifice. The Pear of Anguish was mostly commonly used for oral punishments; it would destroy teeth, dislocate, or even break the jawbones. If introduced in the anus or vagina, it would rupture the sensitive membranes and tissues of the areas resulting in severe internal mutilation. The instrument was rarely washed, thus causing infections very frequently. Pears of Anguish still in existence are lavishly engraved or adorned to differentiate between the anal, vaginal, and oral pears. This form of torture rarely brought death, but was often followed by other torture methods.
Tuesday, March 23, 2010
Unsaid
The time has come my love, I must let you go..... I've given you years
of my life, you've left me alone with nothing to show..... You will
break my heart no longer, I will not follow..... I must move forward
pushing against the tears..... You fooled me with your empty
promises..... You lead me to believe false truths..... You selfishly
drug my child into the middle of it all..... Why do you need to play
games, I do not understand..... What is it that you want from me.....
You tell me how incredibly beautiful I am..... You tell me you have
never loved anyone as much as I..... You make love to me with a
passion so deep, so intense..... You tell me that I am the perfect
woman for you..... You smile and look at me as if you truly mean what
you say..... Then after I turn and walk out the door, you return your
attention to her..... Do you tell her the very same things you tell me,
I would be a fool to think not..... Do you touch and cherish her with
the same amount of passion, of course you do..... It has become
obvious that she owns your heart, I try but cannot compete..... My
love, although truly pure, is simply not enough..... I will never
really have you, at least not to keep..... You love me, you need me,
you want me so badly; so you say..... Yet it is never enough to
convince you to stay.....
of my life, you've left me alone with nothing to show..... You will
break my heart no longer, I will not follow..... I must move forward
pushing against the tears..... You fooled me with your empty
promises..... You lead me to believe false truths..... You selfishly
drug my child into the middle of it all..... Why do you need to play
games, I do not understand..... What is it that you want from me.....
You tell me how incredibly beautiful I am..... You tell me you have
never loved anyone as much as I..... You make love to me with a
passion so deep, so intense..... You tell me that I am the perfect
woman for you..... You smile and look at me as if you truly mean what
you say..... Then after I turn and walk out the door, you return your
attention to her..... Do you tell her the very same things you tell me,
I would be a fool to think not..... Do you touch and cherish her with
the same amount of passion, of course you do..... It has become
obvious that she owns your heart, I try but cannot compete..... My
love, although truly pure, is simply not enough..... I will never
really have you, at least not to keep..... You love me, you need me,
you want me so badly; so you say..... Yet it is never enough to
convince you to stay.....
Monday, March 15, 2010
My Love
I lay beneath you upon a bed of clouds
I watch you, as you ever so gently caress my naked body
You look at me and without saying a word, I can feel you
I become entangled within you; both emotionally and physically
The emotions are intense, unlike any I have ever felt before
Within the room there is a sexual silence
A shared moment of deep romantic passion
As you kiss me, I feel myself becoming vulnerable
The taste of you takes my breath away
An immediate rush captures my soul
As I feel you inside of me I begin drifting away; into our secret world
You whisper, "You are an incredible lover"
I respond whispering, "You are too"
We exchange smiles of unmeasurable desire and pleasure
For the moment we have become "us," we have become one again
Sweat begins rushing from beneath my skin
My body is trembling with delight
As I reach orgasm you hold me and look powerfully into my eyes
Your gaze penetrates my heart, the very essence of my being
I love you, I belong to you
I wish to never leave; as if you ever gave my heart the option
I am truly, unmistakably, and forever yours
I watch you, as you ever so gently caress my naked body
You look at me and without saying a word, I can feel you
I become entangled within you; both emotionally and physically
The emotions are intense, unlike any I have ever felt before
Within the room there is a sexual silence
A shared moment of deep romantic passion
As you kiss me, I feel myself becoming vulnerable
The taste of you takes my breath away
An immediate rush captures my soul
As I feel you inside of me I begin drifting away; into our secret world
You whisper, "You are an incredible lover"
I respond whispering, "You are too"
We exchange smiles of unmeasurable desire and pleasure
For the moment we have become "us," we have become one again
Sweat begins rushing from beneath my skin
My body is trembling with delight
As I reach orgasm you hold me and look powerfully into my eyes
Your gaze penetrates my heart, the very essence of my being
I love you, I belong to you
I wish to never leave; as if you ever gave my heart the option
I am truly, unmistakably, and forever yours
Monday, March 8, 2010
It's Been Almost Ten Years Now...
Robert Andrew Maguire
9-14-97~1-19-02
Although it has been nearly ten years since the accident you are still very dearly missed. I find myself thinking of you often, feeling both sad and happy at the same time; smiling yet always holding back the tears. Somehow I still find myself wishing things would not have turned out this way. Somehow I still find myself questioning whether or not my decisions that day could have changed the final outcome; could I have rewritten your fate.
I remember that day all too well..... I spent nearly an hour talking with you on the telephone; you were trying to convince me to hang out with you for the evening. I on the other hand had already made other plans. I was going to hang out with a stupid man who in all actuality was wasting my precious time and life; for he was no good. No matter how you tried to convince me, I made the very foolish decision of picking a man over my best friend. You were slightly upset with me for choosing to hang with him over you, but at the same time you understood the predicament that I was in. You were always so understanding of my fucking up. You always did your best to give me the correct advice and lead me in the right direction. I never got the chance to tell you, but I really appreciated your friendship...
After our phone call I proceeded to get in the bath tub to get ready for my evening out. You were going to stop by my house on your way into town for one last round of trying to convince me to change my plans. As I was sitting in the bath tub I got this horrific vision, accompanied by some seriously gruesome thoughts. I suddenly got chills over my entire body, became extremely nauseous, and had a flash in my mind of you being in a horrible car crash; a crash that was so devastating that you did not make it through it alive. This image was accompanied by the exact thought that you stopping by my house before your outing would be the last time that I would ever see you again. Immediately after having the thoughts and visions I said to myself out loud, "That is an awful thing to even imagine up, I should not even let my mind conjure up such madness."
I was tremendously bothered by this, but I brushed it off as just being the craziness within my mind and went about my getting washed up. When you stopped by your visit was very brief, I had already made up my mind and was not willing to break my plans. You gave me the evil eye and some grief, but smiled and gave up. Before you left we were standing outside by your car talking; you kissed me. Although we were just friends at the time we had been discussing the possibility of our relationship progressing further. You had just returned from New Jersey so we were not rushing things, plus I still had a bad relationship that I had to figure out how to escape from first...
As you kissed me I remember that same gruesome thought flashing through my mind and I wanted so badly to beg you not to go, but I decided that rationally everything was going to be alright; so I didn't say anything. I let you walk away that day, leaving behind only a kiss and a smile...
The next morning it was approximately 8:30 am when I was sitting in the living room of my home and the phone rang. My mother answered it..... before she had time to even look at me I already knew. I knew it was the phone call that would change things forever...
On the phone was (.......), one of our greatest friends, bearing the news that you had been killed in a horrific car accident during the night. This was the moment that I would never escape from...
I was terrified and in shock all at the same time. My immediate response was to think if only I had been smart enough to quit wasting my time on a no good idiot I would have been with you, and maybe I could have gotten you home safely. Or, maybe if I would have just convinced you not to go the car wreck would not have happened. Or, had I gone with you maybe I would have been killed also. My mind became flooded with "What if" scenarios...
Sometimes when I look back on it all I feel like that was my one shot to alter life and reality, and I foolishly passed it up. I feel like I had the complete power to change your life forever and yet I didn't; I almost feel as if I just stood there and let you die...
I have only shared my visions with one person..... I still to this day have a hard time rationalizing it all.... Sometimes I feel like I am truly and absolutely crazy and it is all nonsense, but there is no denying what happened that day. My thoughts were so clear and concise that they stopped me completely in my path...
I will always regret and be haunted by my decision to not stop you that day. I feel like it was my responsibility to do so, and I let you down...
I am so very sorry...
I have always wanted to tell your mother the truth, but I fear it would only hurt her more. After all you are now gone and it is too late to alter the reality of what happened. It is probably best at this point to keep the truth a secret...
I often pass by the crash site and find myself questioning whether or not you are trapped out there alongside the road; your spirit wandering lost, trying to find a way back to the life and happiness you once knew. I hope that you have escaped this life and I hope that you are free; free from all the hurt and suffering...
I will always love you and miss you dearly... Although you are no longer with me, you will always hold a special place in my heart... The moments that we shared, I will forever cherish...
I guess the only explanation that I can make any rational sense out of is the old saying "everything happens for a specific reason." There is one thing though that I will never understand. Why did I have to know beforehand? It is, and forever will be such an enormous burden to carry...
9-14-97~1-19-02
Although it has been nearly ten years since the accident you are still very dearly missed. I find myself thinking of you often, feeling both sad and happy at the same time; smiling yet always holding back the tears. Somehow I still find myself wishing things would not have turned out this way. Somehow I still find myself questioning whether or not my decisions that day could have changed the final outcome; could I have rewritten your fate.
I remember that day all too well..... I spent nearly an hour talking with you on the telephone; you were trying to convince me to hang out with you for the evening. I on the other hand had already made other plans. I was going to hang out with a stupid man who in all actuality was wasting my precious time and life; for he was no good. No matter how you tried to convince me, I made the very foolish decision of picking a man over my best friend. You were slightly upset with me for choosing to hang with him over you, but at the same time you understood the predicament that I was in. You were always so understanding of my fucking up. You always did your best to give me the correct advice and lead me in the right direction. I never got the chance to tell you, but I really appreciated your friendship...
After our phone call I proceeded to get in the bath tub to get ready for my evening out. You were going to stop by my house on your way into town for one last round of trying to convince me to change my plans. As I was sitting in the bath tub I got this horrific vision, accompanied by some seriously gruesome thoughts. I suddenly got chills over my entire body, became extremely nauseous, and had a flash in my mind of you being in a horrible car crash; a crash that was so devastating that you did not make it through it alive. This image was accompanied by the exact thought that you stopping by my house before your outing would be the last time that I would ever see you again. Immediately after having the thoughts and visions I said to myself out loud, "That is an awful thing to even imagine up, I should not even let my mind conjure up such madness."
I was tremendously bothered by this, but I brushed it off as just being the craziness within my mind and went about my getting washed up. When you stopped by your visit was very brief, I had already made up my mind and was not willing to break my plans. You gave me the evil eye and some grief, but smiled and gave up. Before you left we were standing outside by your car talking; you kissed me. Although we were just friends at the time we had been discussing the possibility of our relationship progressing further. You had just returned from New Jersey so we were not rushing things, plus I still had a bad relationship that I had to figure out how to escape from first...
As you kissed me I remember that same gruesome thought flashing through my mind and I wanted so badly to beg you not to go, but I decided that rationally everything was going to be alright; so I didn't say anything. I let you walk away that day, leaving behind only a kiss and a smile...
The next morning it was approximately 8:30 am when I was sitting in the living room of my home and the phone rang. My mother answered it..... before she had time to even look at me I already knew. I knew it was the phone call that would change things forever...
On the phone was (.......), one of our greatest friends, bearing the news that you had been killed in a horrific car accident during the night. This was the moment that I would never escape from...
I was terrified and in shock all at the same time. My immediate response was to think if only I had been smart enough to quit wasting my time on a no good idiot I would have been with you, and maybe I could have gotten you home safely. Or, maybe if I would have just convinced you not to go the car wreck would not have happened. Or, had I gone with you maybe I would have been killed also. My mind became flooded with "What if" scenarios...
Sometimes when I look back on it all I feel like that was my one shot to alter life and reality, and I foolishly passed it up. I feel like I had the complete power to change your life forever and yet I didn't; I almost feel as if I just stood there and let you die...
I have only shared my visions with one person..... I still to this day have a hard time rationalizing it all.... Sometimes I feel like I am truly and absolutely crazy and it is all nonsense, but there is no denying what happened that day. My thoughts were so clear and concise that they stopped me completely in my path...
I will always regret and be haunted by my decision to not stop you that day. I feel like it was my responsibility to do so, and I let you down...
I am so very sorry...
I have always wanted to tell your mother the truth, but I fear it would only hurt her more. After all you are now gone and it is too late to alter the reality of what happened. It is probably best at this point to keep the truth a secret...
I often pass by the crash site and find myself questioning whether or not you are trapped out there alongside the road; your spirit wandering lost, trying to find a way back to the life and happiness you once knew. I hope that you have escaped this life and I hope that you are free; free from all the hurt and suffering...
I will always love you and miss you dearly... Although you are no longer with me, you will always hold a special place in my heart... The moments that we shared, I will forever cherish...
I guess the only explanation that I can make any rational sense out of is the old saying "everything happens for a specific reason." There is one thing though that I will never understand. Why did I have to know beforehand? It is, and forever will be such an enormous burden to carry...
Friday, March 5, 2010
Artwork I am fond of...
Title: Design for the ball in the dream sequence in "Spellbound"
Artist: Salvador Dali
Year: 1944
Medium: Oil on canvas
Dimensions: 19.9 in x 23.8 in, (50.5 x 60.5 cm)
Location: Private Collection
Title: The Swimming Hole
Artist: Thomas Eakins
Year: 1885
Medium: Oil on canvas
Dimensions: 27 3/8 x 36 3/8 in, (69.5 x 92.4 cm)
Location: Amon Carter Museum, Fort Worth, Texas
Title: The Red Kerchief: Portrait of Camille Monet
Artist: Claude Monet
Year: 1873
Medium: Oil on canvas
Dimensions: 39 x 31 1/4 in, (99 x 79.3 cm)
Location: The Cleveland Museum of Art
Title: Venus of Urbino
Artist: Titian
Year: 1538
Medium: Oil on canvas
Dimensions: 47 in × 65 in, (119 cm × 165 cm)
Location: Uffizi, Florence
Title: The Ebbo Gospels~St. Matthew
Artist: Unknown / Carolingian art
Year: c 816-835
Medium: Ink and tempera on vellum
Dimensions: 10 1/4" x 8 3/4"
Location: Bibliotheque Municipale, Epernay
Monday, March 1, 2010
Happy Thanksgiving; Not So Much...
For Thanksgiving we got invited to have dinner with some of his friends. I knew there would be one other military wife there, but mostly it would be a bunch of other Marines. I knew immediately that this was going to be a bad situation. He always acted crazy around other Marines, as if he had just cause to not trust me. I always wondered why he didn't trust me; after all he was the one that cheated, not me. Alright, I did cheat, but I never got caught.... and it was before we actually got married. He had no idea, so therefore he had no technical reason to distrust me. I never flirted around with other men, and I never acted out in any way to make another man flirt with me. I was always very quite and most of the time didn't even make eye contact with other Marines; I tried to avoid all interaction and conversation as well. I did my best to only speak to the wives, but often his friends would politely try to include me in the conversation. Although I truly appreciated their kindness, it was guaranteed to cause me more grief in the end. I had been through this kind of situation with him way too many times before. I wanted to stay home so badly because I knew it would be a painful, embarrassing, and disastrous situation for me. However, staying home was not an option. He promised me this time things would be different; that he would behave and treat me properly. The entire ride to his friends house I felt sick to my stomach. I was doing my best to emotionally prepare myself for what I was about to endure. After arriving we went through the typical meeting and greeting of everyone, which was expected, that was the only social interaction that I was permitted. After introductions I spent most of my time in the kitchen with the other wife helping with dinner, and all the female duties that were expected. Things were going quite well until we all gathered together for dinner. Once seated everyone began talking and often times I got addressed. I had never met any of these people before and they were all curious of the who, what, when, where, and why of me. I tried to respond as politely as I could without really conversing. It was not enough, I began receiving crude comments and vicious looks from my husband. Although I truly had done nothing wrong, somehow I was still in trouble. He began verbally degrading and humiliating me very loudly in front of everyone. Saying things to the other Marines like: "She's easy, just take her upstairs and she will show you all a good time" and "She's nothing but a whore anyway." The verbal abuse and devaluing lasted for several hours. Although it was totally expected of him I could never understand how or why it happened. It was like someone flipped a switch and he would just go from typical husband to psychopath instantly. Nothing he said made sense and he would act totally irrational about everything. The craziest part was no one ever said anything, they would all just sit there silently. I quickly realized that this was acceptable behavior, it was the norm in the world of the Marines. Up to this point every other wife I had met, if brave enough to talk about her life and relationship, confessed she was abused.
Eventually we left his friend house and began the trip home. I was emotionally drained and anxious to get home. Although I knew the abuse would continue, at least the group humiliation experience would be over; at least this particular one anyway. Once we got home he apologized for all of his cruel and hurtful behavior. It was the typical "It will not happen ever again," "I am so sorry," and "I love you and I just don't want to lose you." After repeated incidents such as this one I did not believe a word of anything he said, but I would pretend to buy it just so I would not have to endure any further torture. The drama appeared to be over, I was hoping he would just pass out and I would be home free. Then he tried to have sex with me and I refused. After all he had just put me through the last thing I wanted to do was give myself to him, or be close to him in anyway. I knew my refusal would undoubtedly cost me a beating. The verbal abuse was almost instantaneous. As I begged and pleaded for him to "just please leave me alone and let me go to sleep," he became more aggressive and more violent. He got up out of bed and began throwing things at me and punching the walls. I got up and went into the other room to try and avoid any further conflict, but he followed. At times I could just ignore him and take it all, agreeing and playing along just to make it stop. Other times I just could not compromise myself any further and I would scream the brutal honest truth of my unhappiness at him.
I'd had enough this particular night and I proceeded to tell him the brutal truth. I revealed to him that the only reason I was still there is because I had no way of getting out; I was too far from home and I had no friends or resources to help me. I ignorantly but honestly shouted out "I want a divorce, I am unhappy." He completely snapped. He charged at me, grabbed me by the throat, and slammed me up against the wall. I hit the wall so hard it knocked the wind out of me, I was crying and knew my actions would have severe consequences. He got right in my face and began screaming, "I will kill you before I ever let you leave me." I foolishly replied, " I don't love you anymore." He then hit me several times, spit directly in my face, and slammed me against the wall again. Only this time he was not letting go, he kept squeezing harder and harder. I could feel myself getting faint and I began kicking trying to get him to let go. I couldn't breathe, I was getting really scared. That's the last thing I remember, until waking up in the floor with him standing over top of me crying. When I awoke I was disoriented and unsure of how I ended up in the floor. For a few moments I could not remember anything. He was crying and hugging me, apologizing as usual. Once I gained my senses enough to realize what had really happened I pushed him away. I hated him, I didn't want him anywhere near me. My refusal of him and his apology angered him and he snapped again. He grabbed me by the hair and drug me across the floor into the kitchen. I was fighting to get back on my feet, but quickly figured out it didn't matter how much I struggled I would never gain the upper hand. As I lay in the floor crying I could hear him shuffling through the kitchen drawers. Then suddenly he yanked me up off the floor by my hair and held a kitchen knife to my throat. He cornered me against the sink with it; at the same time shouting "I can end this all right now." He began pressing it harder and harder against my throat, I could feel it beginning to cut me. I kept trying to lean backward into the sink to get away, but he kept pushing harder and harder. I screamed, "Please don't kill me, I love you." He stopped, threw the knife in the sink, grabbed me by the hair, and threw me into the floor. At this point I was not sure which was hurting more, my injuries from the beatings or my pride from having to compromise my true feelings in order to survive. I hated him more and more with each moment, so much that it literally made me sick to have to say the words "I Love You" to him. As I lay on the kitchen rug, crying with my hands over my head, he knelt down over top of me and began trying to touch me. I immediately said, "Leave me alone." He ignored me and continued trying to touch and talk to me. Again I shouted, "Go away, leave me alone." He grabbed me by the back of the hair, slammed my head against the kitchen floor, and screamed "You fucking bitch I should have just killed you." Then he got up and walked away, leaving the room entirely. Just as quickly as it all had begun, it was suddenly over. I continued to lay on the floor crying; my head throbbing and spinning.
I slept in the kitchen floor that night. I wanted to remain as far away from him as I possibly could. I truly and honestly hated him. Any feelings that I may have once had for him had literally been beaten out of me. I knew that I didn't want to be with him anymore, but I had no way to escape. I always dreamt of the day that I could somehow gain control and take my own life back; the day that I could once again be free to be alive without being punished for it.
Eventually we left his friend house and began the trip home. I was emotionally drained and anxious to get home. Although I knew the abuse would continue, at least the group humiliation experience would be over; at least this particular one anyway. Once we got home he apologized for all of his cruel and hurtful behavior. It was the typical "It will not happen ever again," "I am so sorry," and "I love you and I just don't want to lose you." After repeated incidents such as this one I did not believe a word of anything he said, but I would pretend to buy it just so I would not have to endure any further torture. The drama appeared to be over, I was hoping he would just pass out and I would be home free. Then he tried to have sex with me and I refused. After all he had just put me through the last thing I wanted to do was give myself to him, or be close to him in anyway. I knew my refusal would undoubtedly cost me a beating. The verbal abuse was almost instantaneous. As I begged and pleaded for him to "just please leave me alone and let me go to sleep," he became more aggressive and more violent. He got up out of bed and began throwing things at me and punching the walls. I got up and went into the other room to try and avoid any further conflict, but he followed. At times I could just ignore him and take it all, agreeing and playing along just to make it stop. Other times I just could not compromise myself any further and I would scream the brutal honest truth of my unhappiness at him.
I'd had enough this particular night and I proceeded to tell him the brutal truth. I revealed to him that the only reason I was still there is because I had no way of getting out; I was too far from home and I had no friends or resources to help me. I ignorantly but honestly shouted out "I want a divorce, I am unhappy." He completely snapped. He charged at me, grabbed me by the throat, and slammed me up against the wall. I hit the wall so hard it knocked the wind out of me, I was crying and knew my actions would have severe consequences. He got right in my face and began screaming, "I will kill you before I ever let you leave me." I foolishly replied, " I don't love you anymore." He then hit me several times, spit directly in my face, and slammed me against the wall again. Only this time he was not letting go, he kept squeezing harder and harder. I could feel myself getting faint and I began kicking trying to get him to let go. I couldn't breathe, I was getting really scared. That's the last thing I remember, until waking up in the floor with him standing over top of me crying. When I awoke I was disoriented and unsure of how I ended up in the floor. For a few moments I could not remember anything. He was crying and hugging me, apologizing as usual. Once I gained my senses enough to realize what had really happened I pushed him away. I hated him, I didn't want him anywhere near me. My refusal of him and his apology angered him and he snapped again. He grabbed me by the hair and drug me across the floor into the kitchen. I was fighting to get back on my feet, but quickly figured out it didn't matter how much I struggled I would never gain the upper hand. As I lay in the floor crying I could hear him shuffling through the kitchen drawers. Then suddenly he yanked me up off the floor by my hair and held a kitchen knife to my throat. He cornered me against the sink with it; at the same time shouting "I can end this all right now." He began pressing it harder and harder against my throat, I could feel it beginning to cut me. I kept trying to lean backward into the sink to get away, but he kept pushing harder and harder. I screamed, "Please don't kill me, I love you." He stopped, threw the knife in the sink, grabbed me by the hair, and threw me into the floor. At this point I was not sure which was hurting more, my injuries from the beatings or my pride from having to compromise my true feelings in order to survive. I hated him more and more with each moment, so much that it literally made me sick to have to say the words "I Love You" to him. As I lay on the kitchen rug, crying with my hands over my head, he knelt down over top of me and began trying to touch me. I immediately said, "Leave me alone." He ignored me and continued trying to touch and talk to me. Again I shouted, "Go away, leave me alone." He grabbed me by the back of the hair, slammed my head against the kitchen floor, and screamed "You fucking bitch I should have just killed you." Then he got up and walked away, leaving the room entirely. Just as quickly as it all had begun, it was suddenly over. I continued to lay on the floor crying; my head throbbing and spinning.
I slept in the kitchen floor that night. I wanted to remain as far away from him as I possibly could. I truly and honestly hated him. Any feelings that I may have once had for him had literally been beaten out of me. I knew that I didn't want to be with him anymore, but I had no way to escape. I always dreamt of the day that I could somehow gain control and take my own life back; the day that I could once again be free to be alive without being punished for it.
Monday, February 22, 2010
Artwork I am fond of...
Painting: The Kiss
Artist: Gustav Klimt
Year: 1907
Medium: Oil and gold leaf on canvas
Dimensions: 180 cm × 180 cm (70.9 in × 70.9 in)
Location: Österreichische Galerie Belvedere, Vienna, Austria
Painting: The Nightmare
Artist: Henry Fuseli
Year: 1781
Medium: Oil on canvas
Dimensions: 101.6 cm × 127 cm (40 in × 50 in)
Location: Detroit Institute of Arts
Painting: Study for the Dream Sequence in ‘Spellbound’
Artist: Salvador Dalí
Year: 1945
Medium: Oil on panel
Dimensions: 58.7 x 84 cm (23 1/8 x 33 1/16 in.)
Location: Private Collection
Painting: The Gross Clinic
Artist: Thomas Eakins
Year: 1875
Medium: Oil on canvas
Dimensions: 240 cm × 200 cm (96 in × 78 in)
Location: Philadelphia Museum of Art
Painting: The Pilgrimage To The Island Of Cythera
Artist: Jean Antoine Watteau
Year: 1717
Medium: Oil Painting on Canvas
Dimensions: 129 × 194 cm (50.79 × 76.38 in)
Location: Louvre National Gallery
Sunday, February 14, 2010
The Bathroom.....
It usually started with hours of emotional and mental torture. He would follow me around the house calling me names, degrading me, shaking his head at me while giving me looks of disappointment. As if I had betrayed him or done something wrong, as if I had done something to deserve it. I could usually tell when the situation was going to turn volatile. I could see the craziness in his eyes, I would try and prepare myself for what was coming. I was afraid, I feared him. He would always wait until the right moment when I went to the bathroom, then he would trap me. He always trapped me in the bathroom. It was located in the back of the house at the end of the hallway; where there was no escape. He would pin me against the wall holding me by the hair, screaming in my face. His voice was so loud and so close that I could feel his breathe, I could feel him spitting on me. I would stand there with my eyes closed as the tears ran down my face, trying to block it out, trying to keep the vicious words from causing me further hurt and humiliation. He would tell me things like: "He knew what kind of a girl I really was." "I was nothing but a whore." "I should be thankful that he wanted me." He would break me down inside entirely, he would make me hate myself even. The more I tried to block out what was happening the more he would shake me and scream, "Are you paying attention to me, are you listening?" And if I did not respond he would hurt me even more. He would force me to look him in the eyes as he threatened, hit, and devalued me. Sometimes he would grab me by both sides of my face, and squeeze and shake me so violently that my teeth would cut into the inside of my jaws. I could taste the blood in my mouth, but the more I screamed, cried, and begged for him to stop the more he would continue to hurt me. He would squeeze so hard that the next day I would have bruises on the sides of my face and ears, it would hurt to even lay on my pillow. When he would get his fill of torturing and beating me he would lock me in the bathroom and tell me, "You need to think about what a good wife should be."
The first few times he tried to lock me in I fought to get out, only to quickly learn that it was not worth the extra abuse I had to suffer for trying to escape. Sometimes he would turn the hot water and shower on full blast before he left making it so hot, steamy, and hard for me to breathe; on top of my already being hysterical. It seemed like it would take forever for the hot water to run out, so the air would clear enough that I could breathe normally. If I tried to turn off the water or turn on the fan to get some fresh air he would come in the bathroom and hit me some more. He would threaten, "I am going to drown you in the bathtub and make it look like an accident, make it look like you slipped and hit your my head." I spent hours of my life, sometimes even all night being tortured, beaten, and locked in the bathroom. I would spend my lock down time wondering how I had managed to get myself into such a hellish situation. I was constantly trying to brainstorm and figure out all the different possibilities for escaping, but nothing seemed possible. There were times that I truly thought my nightmare was never going to end. To this day I am not very fond of bathrooms, as you can imagine. I don't mind public bathrooms with more than one stall, but single bathrooms that have the potential to become prison cells still slightly freak me out. My head becomes flooded with flashbacks of the abuse and I become mildly uncomfortable; claustrophobic in a sense.
The first few times he tried to lock me in I fought to get out, only to quickly learn that it was not worth the extra abuse I had to suffer for trying to escape. Sometimes he would turn the hot water and shower on full blast before he left making it so hot, steamy, and hard for me to breathe; on top of my already being hysterical. It seemed like it would take forever for the hot water to run out, so the air would clear enough that I could breathe normally. If I tried to turn off the water or turn on the fan to get some fresh air he would come in the bathroom and hit me some more. He would threaten, "I am going to drown you in the bathtub and make it look like an accident, make it look like you slipped and hit your my head." I spent hours of my life, sometimes even all night being tortured, beaten, and locked in the bathroom. I would spend my lock down time wondering how I had managed to get myself into such a hellish situation. I was constantly trying to brainstorm and figure out all the different possibilities for escaping, but nothing seemed possible. There were times that I truly thought my nightmare was never going to end. To this day I am not very fond of bathrooms, as you can imagine. I don't mind public bathrooms with more than one stall, but single bathrooms that have the potential to become prison cells still slightly freak me out. My head becomes flooded with flashbacks of the abuse and I become mildly uncomfortable; claustrophobic in a sense.
Saturday, February 13, 2010
Beautifully Forsaken
I absolutely love old abandoned churches. They simply fascinate me. I am not a religious person by any means, it is the beauty of the architecture that is so utterly amazing. I used to spend much of my time driving around looking for old abandoned churches, just so I 
could go in and explore them. I always found them to be some of the most exciting and intriguing places to visit; always an adventure. I don't know how exactly to explain it, but these old churches
just make me feel alive inside. Every time I walk inside one I am greeted by this overwhelming sense of peace and comfort. As creepy as it sounds, I always feel like I am not alone, like I am being
watched just as meticulously and curiously as I am examining the beautiful structure surrounding me. I like to find myself a quaint little spot somewhere around the center of the church and just sit quietly, listening, thinking, feeling, and taking it all in. I enjoy watching the sunlight shine through the windows, sparkling and dancing on the walls and floor with a uniqueness of spirit; unlike that of when it was inhabited. To me, it is the complete emptiness and solitude of what was once a very spiritual place that makes these structures so mysterious; this is what draws my curiosity. Millions of people converged upon these places, praising and worshiping their God. The
structure was viewed as a
sanctuary of holiness, a place of unencumbered spirituality. It was "God's" empire. Then just as quickly as the empire was built, it was abandoned and suddenly
meaningless; empty of all spiritually, again simply a structure. Only now it is full of energy, full of soul, full of all the life and the craziness that once occupied it's walls. It is this soul that gives 
the structure it's pure beauty. The church breathes with a life of it's own, now it is free. Free to be appreciated for the true beauty and creativity of it's structural design. I will always love and be fascinated by old abandoned churches. The feeling I get when entering one is unmistakable; so very creepy yet amazingly peaceful all at the same time. A feeling like no other I have ever felt. It has been quite some time since I have had an adventure of this type. I am now inspired, I am now going on the hunt for my next abandoned architectural exploration.
could go in and explore them. I always found them to be some of the most exciting and intriguing places to visit; always an adventure. I don't know how exactly to explain it, but these old churches 
just make me feel alive inside. Every time I walk inside one I am greeted by this overwhelming sense of peace and comfort. As creepy as it sounds, I always feel like I am not alone, like I am being 
watched just as meticulously and curiously as I am examining the beautiful structure surrounding me. I like to find myself a quaint little spot somewhere around the center of the church and just sit quietly, listening, thinking, feeling, and taking it all in. I enjoy watching the sunlight shine through the windows, sparkling and dancing on the walls and floor with a uniqueness of spirit; unlike that of when it was inhabited. To me, it is the complete emptiness and solitude of what was once a very spiritual place that makes these structures so mysterious; this is what draws my curiosity. Millions of people converged upon these places, praising and worshiping their God. The 
structure was viewed as asanctuary of holiness, a place of unencumbered spirituality. It was "God's" empire. Then just as quickly as the empire was built, it was abandoned and suddenly
meaningless; empty of all spiritually, again simply a structure. Only now it is full of energy, full of soul, full of all the life and the craziness that once occupied it's walls. It is this soul that gives 
the structure it's pure beauty. The church breathes with a life of it's own, now it is free. Free to be appreciated for the true beauty and creativity of it's structural design. I will always love and be fascinated by old abandoned churches. The feeling I get when entering one is unmistakable; so very creepy yet amazingly peaceful all at the same time. A feeling like no other I have ever felt. It has been quite some time since I have had an adventure of this type. I am now inspired, I am now going on the hunt for my next abandoned architectural exploration.
Sunday, February 7, 2010
Addiction
I wake, unprepared for the day
I wonder how I let it get this far
I thought I was strong enough
I thought I had it under control
I thought it would never happen to me
It started with the uncontrollable anxiety
The feelings of panic and disorder
As if something were wrong, I became ill
I began thinking irrationally, looking for a way out
I take a pill, soon all will return to normal
You became my comfort, my shelter from life
An easy excuse to hide, so easy to numb the pain
I soon began relying on you for more than my anxiety
The possibilities for relief appeared endless
I was deceived, I thought you to be a wonder drug
You stopped the nightmares of the beatings
You hid the heartache of living a lie
You allowed me to move forward, as if nothing were wrong
You gave me the strength to pretend I was happy
You provided me with a false sense of reality
When I had trouble sleeping, you were there to rescue me
When I could not eat, you gave me back my appetite
When I wanted to make my thoughts stop, you were there to distract
When I wanted to escape, you showed me the way
When I wanted to hide from myself, you secretly helped me
As the time passed our relationship began to falter
My life began spinning quickly out of control
It became clear that you were not my friend, but my enemy
You imprisoned me within false walls
You took my life away
You trapped my emotions, you stole my soul
You brought me to fear and hate myself
You enabled the horror known as my eating disorder
You taught me how to lie and hide it all
You caused me to become utterly miserable
You took away my hope and trust
You replaced it with doubt and anger
You left me second guessing my every thought and action
You made me live in constant paranoia
You caused me to settle, rather than strive to be better
You damaged my life, my family, and my relationships
You have encouraged so many of my bad decisions
You destroyed my spirit, you took away my desires
You kept me from realizing my full potential
You have cheated me out of so much
I am no longer your victim, I am no longer fooled
I have taken my life, my soul, and my dreams back
I am living and loving, rather than merely existing
I am happy, I can feel, I am free
Fuck you Xanax, I have won….
I wonder how I let it get this far
I thought I was strong enough
I thought I had it under control
I thought it would never happen to me
It started with the uncontrollable anxiety
The feelings of panic and disorder
As if something were wrong, I became ill
I began thinking irrationally, looking for a way out
I take a pill, soon all will return to normal
You became my comfort, my shelter from life
An easy excuse to hide, so easy to numb the pain
I soon began relying on you for more than my anxiety
The possibilities for relief appeared endless
I was deceived, I thought you to be a wonder drug
You stopped the nightmares of the beatings
You hid the heartache of living a lie
You allowed me to move forward, as if nothing were wrong
You gave me the strength to pretend I was happy
You provided me with a false sense of reality
When I had trouble sleeping, you were there to rescue me
When I could not eat, you gave me back my appetite
When I wanted to make my thoughts stop, you were there to distract
When I wanted to escape, you showed me the way
When I wanted to hide from myself, you secretly helped me
As the time passed our relationship began to falter
My life began spinning quickly out of control
It became clear that you were not my friend, but my enemy
You imprisoned me within false walls
You took my life away
You trapped my emotions, you stole my soul
You brought me to fear and hate myself
You enabled the horror known as my eating disorder
You taught me how to lie and hide it all
You caused me to become utterly miserable
You took away my hope and trust
You replaced it with doubt and anger
You left me second guessing my every thought and action
You made me live in constant paranoia
You caused me to settle, rather than strive to be better
You damaged my life, my family, and my relationships
You have encouraged so many of my bad decisions
You destroyed my spirit, you took away my desires
You kept me from realizing my full potential
You have cheated me out of so much
I am no longer your victim, I am no longer fooled
I have taken my life, my soul, and my dreams back
I am living and loving, rather than merely existing
I am happy, I can feel, I am free
Fuck you Xanax, I have won….
Friday, January 29, 2010
The Night
I lay in the dark, awake
My mind restless, my thoughts racing
The night is quiet and still
Shadows dance above me on the ceiling
I wait, wondering when sleep will capture me?
I wrestle beneath the covers
Searching for unfamiliar comfort
Breathing in the aroma of the night air
Overtaken by the surrounding loneliness
I wait, wondering when sleep will capture me?
I try to distract my mind from thoughts of him
Fantasizing about his touch, his kiss
His passion, all the things that I miss
I want him, I dream, I wish
I wait, wondering when sleep will capture me?
I ponder my hopes, my reality, my fears
Hoping somehow to get lost, to drift away
The moonlight shining brightly through the window
As if it were spotlighting my restlessness
I wait, wondering when sleep will capture me?
My mind begins to blur
My thoughts begin to fade
Loneliness and fear have gone
The uncertainty of it all begins to disappear
I wait, feeling as though sleep is lurking upon me...
My mind and body reluctantly succumb
My restlessness becomes a memory
I let go, I give into my dreams
I surrender to sleep entirely
Finally, I have been captured...
My mind restless, my thoughts racing
The night is quiet and still
Shadows dance above me on the ceiling
I wait, wondering when sleep will capture me?
I wrestle beneath the covers
Searching for unfamiliar comfort
Breathing in the aroma of the night air
Overtaken by the surrounding loneliness
I wait, wondering when sleep will capture me?
I try to distract my mind from thoughts of him
Fantasizing about his touch, his kiss
His passion, all the things that I miss
I want him, I dream, I wish
I wait, wondering when sleep will capture me?
I ponder my hopes, my reality, my fears
Hoping somehow to get lost, to drift away
The moonlight shining brightly through the window
As if it were spotlighting my restlessness
I wait, wondering when sleep will capture me?
My mind begins to blur
My thoughts begin to fade
Loneliness and fear have gone
The uncertainty of it all begins to disappear
I wait, feeling as though sleep is lurking upon me...
My mind and body reluctantly succumb
My restlessness becomes a memory
I let go, I give into my dreams
I surrender to sleep entirely
Finally, I have been captured...
Sunday, January 17, 2010
Pain, Hurt, Suffering......
My life has been an all inclusive vicious and endless cycle of hurt..... I have experienced pain in a myriad of different forms; psychologically, physically, emotionally..... Each one hurts in a different way.... each one takes a different form.... Through the years of analyzing, over thinking, and trying to escape all the suffering I have stumbled upon a question that I have repeatedly asked myself, but can never come up with a sure answer for. Of all the various types of hurt I have experienced, which one is the worst, which is the most painful? In order to try and come up with a clear response to this question I am going to use generalized ideas and breakdown each form of pain as I personally know, feel, and understand it; with the hopes that I may finally be able to answer my question....
Physical pain, no matter the form, is usually always temporary. There are extreme cases in which people get seriously maimed or permanently injured and suffer excruciating pain daily for the remainder of their lives, but for the purpose of this blog we are going to refer to physical pain in a generalized temporary sense. Both psychological and emotional pain are much more intense and damaging than physical pain. Emotional and psychological pain can be coupled together in the sense that they both commonly generate negative lifelong consequences, therefore.... physical pain is immediately ruled out as being the most painful.... it is when I begin trying to choose between the emotional and psychological forms that I begin to flounder.
When breaking down emotional and psychological pain I find myself having a hard time clearly separating the two. They are distinctly different yet correlated together as well. From my own perspective and experience, psychological pain seems to be my primary trigger element, and the emotional pain is my reaction to the psychological trigger. My psychological pain controls and affects my thinking process and my patterns of behavior. I do my absolute best to avoid people, relationships, and social situations because I have been tremendously wounded by the dishonest and disingenuous behavior of my previous relationships. I trust no one, and I often feel completely misunderstood and disconnected from the world and society that encompass me.
Emotional pain is different in the sense that it does not control your behavior or your thinking process. Emotional pain is typically the result of being reminded, having thoughts of, or having flashbacks of a painful experience. This is where, for me, the line between the psychological and the emotional begins to blur. Is it possible to experience emotional pain without first being psychologically triggered? Innumerable times I can remember being in the shower (my secret escape) on my knees, broken, and sniveling..... feeling as if I am unhurriedly dying inside..... I reflect, I ask myself, is it the psychological pain or the emotional pain that I feel ripping my soul from me?
I feel I have finally arrived at a judgement on this topic that I am utterly satisfied with. After the generalized analysis of both psychological and emotional pain I have finally answered the question I have been asking myself for so long..... Of all the various types of hurt I have experienced, which one is the worst, which is the most painful? Undoubtedly the answer is psychological hurt, it is the foundation of all suffering. It is the psychological twinge that is accountable for the evoking of the emotional pain. It is the psychological pain which possesses all the control.
Physical pain, no matter the form, is usually always temporary. There are extreme cases in which people get seriously maimed or permanently injured and suffer excruciating pain daily for the remainder of their lives, but for the purpose of this blog we are going to refer to physical pain in a generalized temporary sense. Both psychological and emotional pain are much more intense and damaging than physical pain. Emotional and psychological pain can be coupled together in the sense that they both commonly generate negative lifelong consequences, therefore.... physical pain is immediately ruled out as being the most painful.... it is when I begin trying to choose between the emotional and psychological forms that I begin to flounder.
When breaking down emotional and psychological pain I find myself having a hard time clearly separating the two. They are distinctly different yet correlated together as well. From my own perspective and experience, psychological pain seems to be my primary trigger element, and the emotional pain is my reaction to the psychological trigger. My psychological pain controls and affects my thinking process and my patterns of behavior. I do my absolute best to avoid people, relationships, and social situations because I have been tremendously wounded by the dishonest and disingenuous behavior of my previous relationships. I trust no one, and I often feel completely misunderstood and disconnected from the world and society that encompass me.
Emotional pain is different in the sense that it does not control your behavior or your thinking process. Emotional pain is typically the result of being reminded, having thoughts of, or having flashbacks of a painful experience. This is where, for me, the line between the psychological and the emotional begins to blur. Is it possible to experience emotional pain without first being psychologically triggered? Innumerable times I can remember being in the shower (my secret escape) on my knees, broken, and sniveling..... feeling as if I am unhurriedly dying inside..... I reflect, I ask myself, is it the psychological pain or the emotional pain that I feel ripping my soul from me?
I feel I have finally arrived at a judgement on this topic that I am utterly satisfied with. After the generalized analysis of both psychological and emotional pain I have finally answered the question I have been asking myself for so long..... Of all the various types of hurt I have experienced, which one is the worst, which is the most painful? Undoubtedly the answer is psychological hurt, it is the foundation of all suffering. It is the psychological twinge that is accountable for the evoking of the emotional pain. It is the psychological pain which possesses all the control.
Friday, January 15, 2010
Urination and Defecation Vs. Masturbation and Orgasm
Why do people think that when they become involved in a marriage/ intimate relationship with you that you need companionship while expelling bodily waste? I don't care how close the relationship/ marriage may be..... urination and defecation are two matters that should be handled in private; no exceptions.....
I find this matter to be very interesting, both conceptually and morally.....
So, to all you people that believe that pissing and shitting in front of someone else is not a big deal.... let me ask you this.... Would you be so willing to masturbate and orgasm in front of someone with just as much ease? Yes, go ahead and gasp.... I just compared urination and defecation to masturbation and orgasm.... Most people would protest that the subject matters are utterly different.... I disagree.... All can technically be categorized as private matters.... And, before I proceed if you have never masturbated to orgasm in front of someone your argument sucks and is completely invalid anyway, so shut the hell up and just listen.....
I myself have been married, and thankfully divorced.... during which time I was unfortunately given the experience of urinating and defecating with companionship.... entirely uncomfortable and wrong on so many levels.... Life has also given me the experience of masturbating to orgasm with companionship.... entirely recommended and utterly satisfying....
So we have established that conceptually urination, defecation, masturbation, and orgasm are all private matters.... I think everyone can agree upon this.... Morally I am going to present to you an opposing viewpoint about masturbation that I hope will alter your opinion on the stigma that accompanies it; a stance which I hope you will consider with an open mind.... Masturbating in front of someone is an act that most would label as being ethically unacceptable, yet for some unknown reason the expulsion of bodily waste in front of another is considered to be acceptable? This leads directly to the core of my argument....
Masturbating to orgasm in front of someone is an absolutely beautiful experience.... a very personal and very intimate experience.... a very passionate and expressive experience.... an experience shared between two lovers that is entirely revealing and brimming with sexual intensity.... a moment unlike any other I have ever experienced.... a moment of supreme pleasure.... Masturbating with companionship is merely a variation of intercourse.... intercourse is definitely not in the objectionable category.... So, what about masturbation really classifies it as being ethically unacceptable? Exactly, not a damn thing....
What part of shitting and pissing with companionship can be described as being a beautiful, pleasurable, and passionate experience? Is my point becoming any clearer? The expelling of bodily matter with companionship is, by leaps and bounds, more ethically unacceptable than masturbating with companionship ever could be....
So, I have stated my case.... In the matter of Urination and Defecation Vs. Masturbation and Orgasm.... the winner based upon sufficient evidence of absolute sexual gratification is.... drum roll please.... .... .... Masturbation and Orgasm.... Hell yes!!!!!!!
I find this matter to be very interesting, both conceptually and morally.....
So, to all you people that believe that pissing and shitting in front of someone else is not a big deal.... let me ask you this.... Would you be so willing to masturbate and orgasm in front of someone with just as much ease? Yes, go ahead and gasp.... I just compared urination and defecation to masturbation and orgasm.... Most people would protest that the subject matters are utterly different.... I disagree.... All can technically be categorized as private matters.... And, before I proceed if you have never masturbated to orgasm in front of someone your argument sucks and is completely invalid anyway, so shut the hell up and just listen.....
I myself have been married, and thankfully divorced.... during which time I was unfortunately given the experience of urinating and defecating with companionship.... entirely uncomfortable and wrong on so many levels.... Life has also given me the experience of masturbating to orgasm with companionship.... entirely recommended and utterly satisfying....
So we have established that conceptually urination, defecation, masturbation, and orgasm are all private matters.... I think everyone can agree upon this.... Morally I am going to present to you an opposing viewpoint about masturbation that I hope will alter your opinion on the stigma that accompanies it; a stance which I hope you will consider with an open mind.... Masturbating in front of someone is an act that most would label as being ethically unacceptable, yet for some unknown reason the expulsion of bodily waste in front of another is considered to be acceptable? This leads directly to the core of my argument....
Masturbating to orgasm in front of someone is an absolutely beautiful experience.... a very personal and very intimate experience.... a very passionate and expressive experience.... an experience shared between two lovers that is entirely revealing and brimming with sexual intensity.... a moment unlike any other I have ever experienced.... a moment of supreme pleasure.... Masturbating with companionship is merely a variation of intercourse.... intercourse is definitely not in the objectionable category.... So, what about masturbation really classifies it as being ethically unacceptable? Exactly, not a damn thing....
What part of shitting and pissing with companionship can be described as being a beautiful, pleasurable, and passionate experience? Is my point becoming any clearer? The expelling of bodily matter with companionship is, by leaps and bounds, more ethically unacceptable than masturbating with companionship ever could be....
So, I have stated my case.... In the matter of Urination and Defecation Vs. Masturbation and Orgasm.... the winner based upon sufficient evidence of absolute sexual gratification is.... drum roll please.... .... .... Masturbation and Orgasm.... Hell yes!!!!!!!
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