a cigarette lit- one thousand lives
one million possibilities entombed inside
the young lustful gaze of an animated face
youthful lover, or soon to be
mouth- devoted to another, eyes fixed on she
His heart weighing heavy from secrets he had to hide
one million possibilities grew inside
the wanton body of a strapping young man
country boy, country strong
something innate in her, too far gone
she's hid it with a mask for far too long
heart- belonging to another, hand on his thigh
still to early for him to see her cry
perhaps she'll show him how to bleed
he says were a mess
she agreed
and the pragmatic duo threw caution down the drain
maybe he'll stay
think again
one thousand thoughts danced in her mind
oh no- how the time flew by
still with her hand on his thigh
now he's standing
the door shut behind
the air is hot and foggy,
thick and sublime
They die a slow death for the millionth time
Deep in the waters
A light glows over the alter
what is it that they made?
Something more somber- demanding sacrifice
Still too young to know the eternal price
He says life is too short
who is to know
the million different ways that love can grow?
But now he is leaving
and her hand falls from his thigh
she reasons Fate must know better
And pushes the past behind
11.30.2015
10.28.2015
Copulate: ascention into ribbons of space and light, or decension into a blurry nightmare of blood and voracious lust?
We went outside immediately. I was adorned head to toe in gold. They wove it, like tapestry across my head, down my arms, resting on my chest, across my waist and up my legs. I was as shiny golden as the sun, second on luminescence only to Azeal. He took my hand, and we walked out together arms raised high. They cheered. The energetic multitude cried with victorious sentiment, in numbers I had not previously conceived.
"Is she not worthy of our praise?" They erupted in wild applause. "You have heard for some time now of this momentus occasion, well friends, let us celebrate. A dawning of a new age where darkness will be pure again. I could break this creature with one gentle pull, but her blood is now my own." He took my arm and swung it down, wrists up, and with his teeth bit a deep gash in the fold of my arm. Blood oozed out- he dripped it into his hand and drank it. I was mortified; in utter shock. I let out a great noise of anguish- that of intense pain and confusion.
He smiled a bloody smile to the crowd. They really lost it then. I crumbled to the floor in pain. He pulled me up by my wound, and compressed it with his giant hands. Within seconds it was astoundingly healed- only the unearthly healing process proved to be more painful than the bite. Searing and stinging sprang fourth. I felt him grow inside the wound. He was fusing to me. I could feel his magic swallowing the wound, then dispelling through my entire body. I almost passed out as my thoughts transfixed on this process. Then it was over, as quickly as light scatters in water. He scooped me up into his arms, touched his bloody lips to my forehead, and carried me away.
I clung to him. I shivered. He whispered in my ear that he knew me. That I was glowing. That he was scared. I was afraid myself. Too afraid to ask why he would say so. I knew my mental agility had increased from my training in the Swamp, but there was no way I would be an actual threat to him. " I know this is going to hurt more than you can imagine, and I don't want you to hate me." His words were so soft. "I've been trained with strength and have been exposed to a good amount of pain." I tried to sound strong. "For that I am truly thankful," he continued, "and though you probably will experience greater pain, this will embed itself within your very soul." "So be it. Thats what I'm here for after all" I stated blatantly.
"Here we are my dear." He laid me down in a warm dark room, lush, soft pillows everywhere. I laid there. He stood at the entrance, just staring at me. His brow was furrowed; lips tight and concerned. I could feel the weight sitting heavy on his shoulders. After minutes he trudged over the the bed, sat down by my side, at the very edge, his back turned from me.
I wanted to help him. I was scared but I felt so much conviction. I truly wanted to aid his cause. He wasn't like the rest, not to me. My heart was throbbing. He turned back and looked at me. I cannot explain all his eyes contained- sorrow, pain, hope, love (possibly)- but in that moment, though I hadn't quite regained my strength, I knew what I had to do.
I began removing the gold shackles from my feet, and my wrists. I slowly took off my cloak, then my chest pieces, and finally my beaded gold veil till I had lost all luminescence, with exception to my copper eyes. I rubbed his back, clung to it, and said "look at me." He turned his head towards me. I grabbed his broad shoulders for stability, and craned my head around his back until my lips were gently brushing the skin of his torso. I took a huge, deep bite out of his chest- right near his collar bone. I left my lips attached, where I sucked out some of his blood. It didn't taste metallic and vile like when I kissed Nina. It was.... pulsing with electricity. It tasted like fire. Before I even comprehended the obscurity of my plan, it began to work.
His eyes locked onto me with fervent intensity. Rage quickly changed their color from green to a thick black. Nostrels flared and muscles tightened. The wound started emitting steam, a ring of fire lit around it and with the healing, he let out a short, angry scream. Suddenly, I heard a violent crack, and enormous wings shot out of his back. He hunched over as the tremendous feathered appendages stretched out. Arched into an erect position, he remembered his form. He Then, picked me up by the neck, choking me, and proceeded to fling me back down on the bed. He pinned my arms down with his, pulling them so far apart I thought they'd detach completely.
He pulled his face down to mine. He was breathing heavily. After staring at me for a while, I stared back, with the sternest face I could muster. He chuckled. "You're quite charming when you act brave... You bit me" he smirked, surprised by my action, but not bothered. He rubbed his chin, musing to himself with total relish. His eyes changed back to green. "So?" I replied. And wiith that he kissed me. The kiss was full and deep. It awakened something inside of me. There was this burden of appetite- one that I hadn't realized- was starving. I voraciously and instinctively followed the tangle and passion of his lips, smearing blood from the bite all over his delicate white mouth.
Sensations began to arrive with each intense second, building on one another. I was surprised when I realized the wild gasping noises were my own. Then I lost total ability to perceive sound. Feeling mounted until I thought something in me was going to explode. I could still smell and taste fire, coating my nostrils, saturating my tongue.
Almost immediately came the pain. I had not recovered from the intensity of his first bite, and lost all breath and stability of thought. It felt as if a knife made out of fire was slicing my insides. My legs ached. Every time I tried to pull back, I realized I couldn't move. The weight of his body was so tremendous I could scarcely breathe. The pain was so acute and severe- my body was totally unprepared. I tried to remain calm, reminding myself this was what I wanted, with the pain only increasing.
"You're doing amazing, just stay with me, well be out of here soon." There wasn't enough breath in me to reply to him. I imagined him inside me, and my insides melting into hot, black, blood. I pictured my legs burnt from fire, skin chewed off. surely my back was breaking. But even still, I held on to him, for he was the only thing separating me from decention into hell.
The pain continued for I don't know how long. The cutting sensation continued, but the internal flames seemed to die down. I opened my eyes, and realized I had tears rolling down my cheeks. He was sweating, his green eyes intently staring at my body. He stroked me , kissed me, only slightly relieving the pain. I kept thinking, if only I was submerged in a pool, I could pull myself out of this misery.
My mind was aching for cooling, viscus water. It wanted to burst fourth with energy into the lucid space. I tried to pull our minds down into the deep for I knew our intertwined realities at this moment would produce a better escape. I wasn't in water but I hoped my mind could summon the strength. Even before I attempted, he stopped me. "You want to take me to your world? Well Uzalla, no training ever prepared you for subduing my mind. And you better hold on, we're not done yet- you're going where I take you." With that he grabbed my petite shoulders with his large hands, and thrust me down with his enormous arms for the second time.
The pressure pushed me down instantly, and thrust us into another reality. The pain was instantly gone. All the flames and cutting left my body. I felt myself inhale for the first time. I felt rebirthed- with total opulate clarity. I was submerged into a realm of cool, fresh life, not anything like the pools .I was so euphoric. Still, it was mercilessly dizzying, descending from one extreme to another. I was floating on a bed of stars. We were past the air and the sky. The senses I experienced were unearthly and incomprehensible. All around us were ribbons of blue, red, purple, yellow…, as well as delicate stones and beams of light. I heard the faintest sound growing louder. First it was a thin, pounding of a drum, then swirling strings, then lofty light voices.
Azul was on fire. I arched my back, inhaled deeply and opened my eyes fully, awakened by his splendor. He was a dazzling white vision of light- the purest my slick skin had ever been exposed to. Suddenly his wings were more attractive as my senses were fully exposed. The strong, powerful structure coupled with soft, elegant feathers drew me in further. I was understanding him. I wrapped my arms around his muscular back and dug my hands into his delicious wings. He let out a deep, trembling sigh, and our dance continued. I gave into the strange perfection.
"Is she not worthy of our praise?" They erupted in wild applause. "You have heard for some time now of this momentus occasion, well friends, let us celebrate. A dawning of a new age where darkness will be pure again. I could break this creature with one gentle pull, but her blood is now my own." He took my arm and swung it down, wrists up, and with his teeth bit a deep gash in the fold of my arm. Blood oozed out- he dripped it into his hand and drank it. I was mortified; in utter shock. I let out a great noise of anguish- that of intense pain and confusion.
He smiled a bloody smile to the crowd. They really lost it then. I crumbled to the floor in pain. He pulled me up by my wound, and compressed it with his giant hands. Within seconds it was astoundingly healed- only the unearthly healing process proved to be more painful than the bite. Searing and stinging sprang fourth. I felt him grow inside the wound. He was fusing to me. I could feel his magic swallowing the wound, then dispelling through my entire body. I almost passed out as my thoughts transfixed on this process. Then it was over, as quickly as light scatters in water. He scooped me up into his arms, touched his bloody lips to my forehead, and carried me away.
I clung to him. I shivered. He whispered in my ear that he knew me. That I was glowing. That he was scared. I was afraid myself. Too afraid to ask why he would say so. I knew my mental agility had increased from my training in the Swamp, but there was no way I would be an actual threat to him. " I know this is going to hurt more than you can imagine, and I don't want you to hate me." His words were so soft. "I've been trained with strength and have been exposed to a good amount of pain." I tried to sound strong. "For that I am truly thankful," he continued, "and though you probably will experience greater pain, this will embed itself within your very soul." "So be it. Thats what I'm here for after all" I stated blatantly.
"Here we are my dear." He laid me down in a warm dark room, lush, soft pillows everywhere. I laid there. He stood at the entrance, just staring at me. His brow was furrowed; lips tight and concerned. I could feel the weight sitting heavy on his shoulders. After minutes he trudged over the the bed, sat down by my side, at the very edge, his back turned from me.
I wanted to help him. I was scared but I felt so much conviction. I truly wanted to aid his cause. He wasn't like the rest, not to me. My heart was throbbing. He turned back and looked at me. I cannot explain all his eyes contained- sorrow, pain, hope, love (possibly)- but in that moment, though I hadn't quite regained my strength, I knew what I had to do.
I began removing the gold shackles from my feet, and my wrists. I slowly took off my cloak, then my chest pieces, and finally my beaded gold veil till I had lost all luminescence, with exception to my copper eyes. I rubbed his back, clung to it, and said "look at me." He turned his head towards me. I grabbed his broad shoulders for stability, and craned my head around his back until my lips were gently brushing the skin of his torso. I took a huge, deep bite out of his chest- right near his collar bone. I left my lips attached, where I sucked out some of his blood. It didn't taste metallic and vile like when I kissed Nina. It was.... pulsing with electricity. It tasted like fire. Before I even comprehended the obscurity of my plan, it began to work.
His eyes locked onto me with fervent intensity. Rage quickly changed their color from green to a thick black. Nostrels flared and muscles tightened. The wound started emitting steam, a ring of fire lit around it and with the healing, he let out a short, angry scream. Suddenly, I heard a violent crack, and enormous wings shot out of his back. He hunched over as the tremendous feathered appendages stretched out. Arched into an erect position, he remembered his form. He Then, picked me up by the neck, choking me, and proceeded to fling me back down on the bed. He pinned my arms down with his, pulling them so far apart I thought they'd detach completely.
He pulled his face down to mine. He was breathing heavily. After staring at me for a while, I stared back, with the sternest face I could muster. He chuckled. "You're quite charming when you act brave... You bit me" he smirked, surprised by my action, but not bothered. He rubbed his chin, musing to himself with total relish. His eyes changed back to green. "So?" I replied. And wiith that he kissed me. The kiss was full and deep. It awakened something inside of me. There was this burden of appetite- one that I hadn't realized- was starving. I voraciously and instinctively followed the tangle and passion of his lips, smearing blood from the bite all over his delicate white mouth.
Sensations began to arrive with each intense second, building on one another. I was surprised when I realized the wild gasping noises were my own. Then I lost total ability to perceive sound. Feeling mounted until I thought something in me was going to explode. I could still smell and taste fire, coating my nostrils, saturating my tongue.
Almost immediately came the pain. I had not recovered from the intensity of his first bite, and lost all breath and stability of thought. It felt as if a knife made out of fire was slicing my insides. My legs ached. Every time I tried to pull back, I realized I couldn't move. The weight of his body was so tremendous I could scarcely breathe. The pain was so acute and severe- my body was totally unprepared. I tried to remain calm, reminding myself this was what I wanted, with the pain only increasing.
"You're doing amazing, just stay with me, well be out of here soon." There wasn't enough breath in me to reply to him. I imagined him inside me, and my insides melting into hot, black, blood. I pictured my legs burnt from fire, skin chewed off. surely my back was breaking. But even still, I held on to him, for he was the only thing separating me from decention into hell.
The pain continued for I don't know how long. The cutting sensation continued, but the internal flames seemed to die down. I opened my eyes, and realized I had tears rolling down my cheeks. He was sweating, his green eyes intently staring at my body. He stroked me , kissed me, only slightly relieving the pain. I kept thinking, if only I was submerged in a pool, I could pull myself out of this misery.
My mind was aching for cooling, viscus water. It wanted to burst fourth with energy into the lucid space. I tried to pull our minds down into the deep for I knew our intertwined realities at this moment would produce a better escape. I wasn't in water but I hoped my mind could summon the strength. Even before I attempted, he stopped me. "You want to take me to your world? Well Uzalla, no training ever prepared you for subduing my mind. And you better hold on, we're not done yet- you're going where I take you." With that he grabbed my petite shoulders with his large hands, and thrust me down with his enormous arms for the second time.
The pressure pushed me down instantly, and thrust us into another reality. The pain was instantly gone. All the flames and cutting left my body. I felt myself inhale for the first time. I felt rebirthed- with total opulate clarity. I was submerged into a realm of cool, fresh life, not anything like the pools .I was so euphoric. Still, it was mercilessly dizzying, descending from one extreme to another. I was floating on a bed of stars. We were past the air and the sky. The senses I experienced were unearthly and incomprehensible. All around us were ribbons of blue, red, purple, yellow…, as well as delicate stones and beams of light. I heard the faintest sound growing louder. First it was a thin, pounding of a drum, then swirling strings, then lofty light voices.
Azul was on fire. I arched my back, inhaled deeply and opened my eyes fully, awakened by his splendor. He was a dazzling white vision of light- the purest my slick skin had ever been exposed to. Suddenly his wings were more attractive as my senses were fully exposed. The strong, powerful structure coupled with soft, elegant feathers drew me in further. I was understanding him. I wrapped my arms around his muscular back and dug my hands into his delicious wings. He let out a deep, trembling sigh, and our dance continued. I gave into the strange perfection.
We spun a melodic rhythm in that dreamscape. Swaying with every evoking thrust and pull. Every give and take sent us deeper into the stars, and further into quivering ecstasy. My body was writhing, alive with foreign senses- some with traces of reminiscent pain. When I thought my entire being was about to explode from chaotic pleasure, I heard him whisper "Uzalla, stay with me." I felt us still, ever deeper in each other. Every inch of him was wrapped around me. "I will", I feebly managed to reply, if only in my mind. As I swung in and out of mental clairity, I began to wonder about our state, I didn't know how much more of this surging power and total bliss I could physically handle. I wanted to ask him when it would stop, but I was too overpowered by his body and the drug in mine. I was in total, utter surrender. He anticipated me . "Don't worry dear, I'll put you down soon. We must go gently". However, those words didn't diffuse the ocean of feeling I succumbed to.
I was shaking all over. I was shocked to hear a loud wild scream, which was actually coming from me. I couldn't even see the stars anymore. All I saw was total, consuming, perfect pleasure. Every inch of my mouth tasted it, every caress of skin ached with it, and my mind dived into itself. All I could see, all I was, everything during the present was him, and me. Azul............Azul...................Azul........................ Azul..............................Azul............. Thats all I found myself saying, and that's all I could see.
We were outside realms of time. As I imagined some passed, I found the pleasure escaping my body, being replaced with delicious warmth and soft kisses. He kissed every inch of my tender body with his silky lips. As he stroked my face with his large hands, I smiled and stared at him. "Where are we?" I asked, not fully coherent. "My dear, we are above heaven itself." He repeated for some reason "Just please stay with me here". It took me a while to realize what he meant- after all, I was exhausted. If I were to mentally pull myself away from his cognitive strings, I would be back down to earth. "Of course I replied" With utter happiness and ignorant bliss, I released myself. I let go of his torso, and used it to push myself away from him. Though not as easy to swim, I maneuvered away from him, further into the sky. He just smiled and chuckled to himself, and followed after me. He grabbed me, we both laughed, and stayed for sometime, locked in a perfect embrace, gazes deeper than all explanation.
I woke to find him sleeping by my side. I tried to get up but then I felt the sensation of sharp knives crawling down my legs. The reality of the dream set in. I pulled back the sheets and looked at my body. Closely examining my dark skin revealed red and black bruises running all the way down my legs to my knees. I tried to move them but they were so stiff and sore. The tangible stinging inside my stomach hurt so much that I almost vommited. Confounded by defeat, I laid back down and stared at his sleeping face.
As I laid there, I thought about what we had achieved. In one night I had suffered through strange, horrific pain and ascended into rapturous bliss. I fought through a blurry nightmare of blood and voracious lust and escaped to a symphony of pleasure and light. What was it that I missed? Somehow, the rememberance of the strange pain and wild submission were met with curious delight. It was then that I realized how much I loved the bruises. They were my trophies- voicing successful endurance. I had accomplished what I was chosen to do. Somehow in my broken state I felt stronger, knowing our bond was so intimate, no souls could break us apart. In that union, I understood my Azul. I was his, and he was a creature blessed by a paradoxical life of the torments of hell and the delights of heaven. He, to me, was the best of all realms. I would gladly sacrifice my body again to achieve such union and understanding with him. Though he may have despairaged my body, he gifted it with new life. I would heal. After all, he did not kill me.
He slept for a full day. I had no clues from outside light as to the passage of time, I just knew. He was so peaceful as he slept- I knew he had not slept that sound in a long time. The inner struggles he had been facing were put to rest with his sleeping eyes. I was able to help him expel that toxic energy. I was able, with some difficulty, to prop myself slightly upright. I stroked my fingers through his thick, black hair. I kissed his forehead. He let out a deep sigh. I kissed his mouth, then his graceful chest. I couldn't stop kissing him. When my lips were content, I whispered "I am yours". Perhaps he heard me in his unconscious mind. I paid no further attention, and fell back asleep on his perfect chest.
My legs grew stiffer with the swelling. The aches merged together to form one, deep pain. Through the grimacing I saw Azul trying to wake me up. "Make it stop" I pleaded. "Everything in me wishes I could. But, as you recall, healing is far more painful than I could dream of you bearing. I will do my best to make you more comfortable."
I woke to find him sleeping by my side. I tried to get up but then I felt the sensation of sharp knives crawling down my legs. The reality of the dream set in. I pulled back the sheets and looked at my body. Closely examining my dark skin revealed red and black bruises running all the way down my legs to my knees. I tried to move them but they were so stiff and sore. The tangible stinging inside my stomach hurt so much that I almost vommited. Confounded by defeat, I laid back down and stared at his sleeping face.
As I laid there, I thought about what we had achieved. In one night I had suffered through strange, horrific pain and ascended into rapturous bliss. I fought through a blurry nightmare of blood and voracious lust and escaped to a symphony of pleasure and light. What was it that I missed? Somehow, the rememberance of the strange pain and wild submission were met with curious delight. It was then that I realized how much I loved the bruises. They were my trophies- voicing successful endurance. I had accomplished what I was chosen to do. Somehow in my broken state I felt stronger, knowing our bond was so intimate, no souls could break us apart. In that union, I understood my Azul. I was his, and he was a creature blessed by a paradoxical life of the torments of hell and the delights of heaven. He, to me, was the best of all realms. I would gladly sacrifice my body again to achieve such union and understanding with him. Though he may have despairaged my body, he gifted it with new life. I would heal. After all, he did not kill me.
He slept for a full day. I had no clues from outside light as to the passage of time, I just knew. He was so peaceful as he slept- I knew he had not slept that sound in a long time. The inner struggles he had been facing were put to rest with his sleeping eyes. I was able to help him expel that toxic energy. I was able, with some difficulty, to prop myself slightly upright. I stroked my fingers through his thick, black hair. I kissed his forehead. He let out a deep sigh. I kissed his mouth, then his graceful chest. I couldn't stop kissing him. When my lips were content, I whispered "I am yours". Perhaps he heard me in his unconscious mind. I paid no further attention, and fell back asleep on his perfect chest.
My legs grew stiffer with the swelling. The aches merged together to form one, deep pain. Through the grimacing I saw Azul trying to wake me up. "Make it stop" I pleaded. "Everything in me wishes I could. But, as you recall, healing is far more painful than I could dream of you bearing. I will do my best to make you more comfortable."
3.22.2015
Why Racism Matters
I have struggled lately to write. Mostly because of how pointless it feels. Every day, I have been taught the virtuous merits of sustained acceptance for all thoughts and beliefs. Not only that, but who is listening anyways, right? Who actually cares, especially if were not really supposed to?
Well, the resolve I've found is that these ideas, just shy of passion and far from action, will die and fade if I do not, at the very least, record them for myself. This seems the least rigorous course of action, but the most necessary in order to maintain some sense of who I am amidst a sea of blind tolerance.
Recently, as it often comes up, the topic of racism has exploded in the realms of business news and all forms of social media. I do not mean to deflate the enormity of racism in calling it a "topic", I feel the fact that it is one already does so.
My first reaction was- "Really though? But why? I know generations before mine may have some issues with tolerance that are unquestionably wrong but their world is dead. If we let mother nature run its course, the future of our children will be seamlessly integrated and harmonious."
Some people say no and that's fine. That is great, actually. Not everyone should be as romantic and hopeful as me when looking towards the future. What gets me fired up about this internet conversation is the one-sidedness of its forerunners' outlook. And before you start guessing where I'm going with this, let me explain a little bit about myself.
I am a white female American. I have never been a minority in any category. Even my religious affiliation pools with the masses. Things that can differentiate me from other people are choices I've made and things I've done. I've never had obstacles imposed on me resulting from anything but my own decisions. So, in short, I don't know what its like to be born into a social environment that would judge me based on my sexuality or the color of my skin. Then again, I was never born into a social environment that taught me to treat others differently based on color or nature.
Way way way way back in the day, race used to have a lot to do with who you were. Because chances were- the color of your skin, shape of your body, clothes you wore, way you talked- all had to do with where you came from. And people were taught to be proud of the color of their skin because it was a large part of who they were.
I'm not saying that people shouldn't be proud of their skin color. I think they should. But two things I will add. First, is not once have I ever been proud or excited about the fact that I'm white. And if I was, society would tell me that is wrong. I can be proud to be an American, and a female, and maybe of my distant partial Irish ancestry, but not of my skin color. Do I think that's unfair? No! Of course not- but the fact remains.
Second, is the color of your skin doesn't nearly have as much to do with your social and geographical upbringing as it once did. Someone who more or less identifies as black could be from anywhere. At one point, sure, you could trace part of their ancestry back to Africa (same goes for any ethnicity you wish to insert into this example) but where they were born and raised has everything to do with who they are, and the color of their skin doesn't necessarily represent that. So, that's a large part of why we shouldn't judge people on the color of their skin. It shouldn't happen even if it were the sole indicator of the type of person someone is/was.
But, here's the root of why racism has always been wrong. Its making a judgement call about someone based on superficial interaction or appearances that tells you someone is beneath you. I don't think my generation, or at least all of the people I know make those kind of judgement calls based on race. But we do it based on other appearances, and especially- on where someone is from.
That is flat out wrong. Let me use an example for this point which is very close to my heart. I LOVE TEXAS. I love the food, the weather, the people, the flat farm lands, the trucks, the dirt- everything. Every part of Texas, all the nuanced behaviors of its people in different corners of the great state. I love it. My grandma Pauline Row lived in West Texas her whole life. She used to make my sister and I cheese and bologna sandwiches and cold cut watermelon for dinner when we'd visit her in the hot summer months. In church, her singing voice was high pitched and vibrato. And she always permed her hair. She would tease it until it formed a perfect white halo around her dainty, poised head. Her hands were so soft. I think that's a grandma thing.
I know its cheating to talk about my grandma, but I swear, that woman was the sweetest creature I had met in my entire life. The way her kids would talk about her also testified to this woman's character. My aunt and uncles are pretty cool too. Whenever we visit my aunt in Texas, she always calls my dad things like "Pastor Brother'' or "Preacher Man". She would call my sister and I "Sissy". You can imagine how perfect it would sound with her perfect Texan twang. My family in Texas, and all the people they commune with are just so affectionate and kind and true to who they are. They don't pretend to be anybody. They aren't impressed by anyone who does.
But since living in New Mexico, I have found other people do not share in my sentiments. Whenever I have confessed my love for Texas to my friends or coworkers, I find the opposite in their hearts. When brought up in conversation, I hear a chorus of disgust, followed by snied comments like "the land is so flat and ugly. The people are fat and dumb and racist and Republican. Gross how could you like a place like that."
So I ask, "Well, have you ever been there?" Sometimes people say they've been to El Paso or had a layover in Dallas or Huston and found this to be the case. Usually though, these assumptions they've made are based on what they see on the news or in social media or have gathered from observing a group of Texans visiting from out of town. Sometimes they'll retort, "Well, you just don't see it because you're white and of course they'll treat you nice there."
I know they don't mean for them to, but these remarks hurt me deeply. When they talk about Texas that way, it feels like they're saying those things about my grandma... about my dad... about me. I just want to scream how can you say that when you've never really been there! How can you say that when you know its a part of who I am!
You see, that is why I think racism is important. Because making judgement calls about a person or group of people based on where they're from is always wrong. It hurts others. If older generations want mine to move forward with tolerance, we have to make sure the mindset that anyone is better than anyone is eliminated. If they want an integrated future for this country, we need to celebrate who we are more than what we are. So if people think that dissolving racial stigmas is the first step on this path, they need to understand what the next step is, where we should be headed, and have no hesitation in starting now.
Well, the resolve I've found is that these ideas, just shy of passion and far from action, will die and fade if I do not, at the very least, record them for myself. This seems the least rigorous course of action, but the most necessary in order to maintain some sense of who I am amidst a sea of blind tolerance.
Recently, as it often comes up, the topic of racism has exploded in the realms of business news and all forms of social media. I do not mean to deflate the enormity of racism in calling it a "topic", I feel the fact that it is one already does so.
My first reaction was- "Really though? But why? I know generations before mine may have some issues with tolerance that are unquestionably wrong but their world is dead. If we let mother nature run its course, the future of our children will be seamlessly integrated and harmonious."
Some people say no and that's fine. That is great, actually. Not everyone should be as romantic and hopeful as me when looking towards the future. What gets me fired up about this internet conversation is the one-sidedness of its forerunners' outlook. And before you start guessing where I'm going with this, let me explain a little bit about myself.
I am a white female American. I have never been a minority in any category. Even my religious affiliation pools with the masses. Things that can differentiate me from other people are choices I've made and things I've done. I've never had obstacles imposed on me resulting from anything but my own decisions. So, in short, I don't know what its like to be born into a social environment that would judge me based on my sexuality or the color of my skin. Then again, I was never born into a social environment that taught me to treat others differently based on color or nature.
Way way way way back in the day, race used to have a lot to do with who you were. Because chances were- the color of your skin, shape of your body, clothes you wore, way you talked- all had to do with where you came from. And people were taught to be proud of the color of their skin because it was a large part of who they were.
I'm not saying that people shouldn't be proud of their skin color. I think they should. But two things I will add. First, is not once have I ever been proud or excited about the fact that I'm white. And if I was, society would tell me that is wrong. I can be proud to be an American, and a female, and maybe of my distant partial Irish ancestry, but not of my skin color. Do I think that's unfair? No! Of course not- but the fact remains.
Second, is the color of your skin doesn't nearly have as much to do with your social and geographical upbringing as it once did. Someone who more or less identifies as black could be from anywhere. At one point, sure, you could trace part of their ancestry back to Africa (same goes for any ethnicity you wish to insert into this example) but where they were born and raised has everything to do with who they are, and the color of their skin doesn't necessarily represent that. So, that's a large part of why we shouldn't judge people on the color of their skin. It shouldn't happen even if it were the sole indicator of the type of person someone is/was.
But, here's the root of why racism has always been wrong. Its making a judgement call about someone based on superficial interaction or appearances that tells you someone is beneath you. I don't think my generation, or at least all of the people I know make those kind of judgement calls based on race. But we do it based on other appearances, and especially- on where someone is from.
That is flat out wrong. Let me use an example for this point which is very close to my heart. I LOVE TEXAS. I love the food, the weather, the people, the flat farm lands, the trucks, the dirt- everything. Every part of Texas, all the nuanced behaviors of its people in different corners of the great state. I love it. My grandma Pauline Row lived in West Texas her whole life. She used to make my sister and I cheese and bologna sandwiches and cold cut watermelon for dinner when we'd visit her in the hot summer months. In church, her singing voice was high pitched and vibrato. And she always permed her hair. She would tease it until it formed a perfect white halo around her dainty, poised head. Her hands were so soft. I think that's a grandma thing.
I know its cheating to talk about my grandma, but I swear, that woman was the sweetest creature I had met in my entire life. The way her kids would talk about her also testified to this woman's character. My aunt and uncles are pretty cool too. Whenever we visit my aunt in Texas, she always calls my dad things like "Pastor Brother'' or "Preacher Man". She would call my sister and I "Sissy". You can imagine how perfect it would sound with her perfect Texan twang. My family in Texas, and all the people they commune with are just so affectionate and kind and true to who they are. They don't pretend to be anybody. They aren't impressed by anyone who does.
But since living in New Mexico, I have found other people do not share in my sentiments. Whenever I have confessed my love for Texas to my friends or coworkers, I find the opposite in their hearts. When brought up in conversation, I hear a chorus of disgust, followed by snied comments like "the land is so flat and ugly. The people are fat and dumb and racist and Republican. Gross how could you like a place like that."
So I ask, "Well, have you ever been there?" Sometimes people say they've been to El Paso or had a layover in Dallas or Huston and found this to be the case. Usually though, these assumptions they've made are based on what they see on the news or in social media or have gathered from observing a group of Texans visiting from out of town. Sometimes they'll retort, "Well, you just don't see it because you're white and of course they'll treat you nice there."
I know they don't mean for them to, but these remarks hurt me deeply. When they talk about Texas that way, it feels like they're saying those things about my grandma... about my dad... about me. I just want to scream how can you say that when you've never really been there! How can you say that when you know its a part of who I am!
You see, that is why I think racism is important. Because making judgement calls about a person or group of people based on where they're from is always wrong. It hurts others. If older generations want mine to move forward with tolerance, we have to make sure the mindset that anyone is better than anyone is eliminated. If they want an integrated future for this country, we need to celebrate who we are more than what we are. So if people think that dissolving racial stigmas is the first step on this path, they need to understand what the next step is, where we should be headed, and have no hesitation in starting now.
6.03.2014
Satiating Curiosity
.JPG)
I've always had an affinity for the dark and strange, even gruesome fascinations, at times. My curiosity has long been stirred by supernatural and superstitious things. Stories of magic and creatures and immortality always create a deep sense of catharsis when mused upon.
In my faith, I have been brought up to reject these curiosities and desires. It has always led me to believe that what is taboo is what will always be most desired. But in the modern times we live in, hardly any idea one comes across is forbidden. Pursuits once deemed as noble or deranged are now dismissed as an umbrella concept of individuality. The line between hedonism and purity, once clearly marked, is smeared completely. And why is it, I feel, especially now, that choices for selfish living and indulgence are so accessible? Why is it that the new task for the "modern christian" is to walk as close as we can to a newly drawn line and beckon others to join in abstinence with no added value other than some poorly supported argument for infinite life and slight opportunities for spiritual encounters here on earth, when on the other side of that "line" awaits a freedom for curiosity spanning more articulate dimensions?
Here in lies the problem, I believe. It is a falsehood we quickly succumb to in our train of thought. I do not necessarily believe that what is forbidden is always to be more desired. It is the act of forbidding something, of drawing a curtain over the object, that lures our curiosity in. Perhaps some length of the curtain is drawn back, and we have the opportunity to glimpse a possible answer to what our prying fascination longs for. But that is all this act can bring. Once the veil has been lifted and the object fondled, the curiosity is satiated, and that burning desire is no longer attached to the thing.
Whether the curtain is drawn back fully, and the object is never obtained, or it is merely touched, or completely devoured- the quench for curiosity will never be fully satisfied. There will always remain, a burning desire to know and obtain, to search and discover. That is an inherit gift of man. How quickly we forget, that the greatest veil is death itself. That the most infinite being, designed us with a propensity to imagine, create, learn, and discover.
The Christian literary canon and the gospel were never intended to be seen as the answers to all of life's mysteries. They were meant to be used as tools, as catalysts for revitilizing a fervent curiosity to seek out the things of God, the things unknown. Not to give us as men the object behind the veil, but to pull back its curtain, to fuel that curiosity and its consequent noble pursuits, until death.
There is plenty of room left in scriptures to play with, discover, and imagine. Some say these pursuits are in vain, because we will never truly know until it is death we have finally met. Those who are afraid to probe and investigate cling to the scriptures, if they are religious. Those who are afraid and not religious cling to the things of the world.
Things that are dark and wicked and taboo and strange have a way of beckoning our curiosity, that with proper investigation and application, one may be able to attain that which lies beyond our mortal veil. However, rather than fighting against these dark luring forces, enticing our curiosities, we should look again, towards that which is light and pure. We should allow our curiosities to delve into the infinities of what is wholesome and lovely and good and perfect. What is harder to attain than perfection? What is more taboo in our society than devout purity?
This may come off as too preachy or mystical for you. But sometimes we need the mystic. We need to remember the other side. We need to explore and imagine infinity. We need to satiate our curious impulsions with exploration of things that benefit others, that echo hidden whispers of a world beyond our own mortality, things that make us wonder what it means to be good.
4.14.2014
Of the first: Lazarus
He's been sick of this place for a while now. There's nothing left for him here. His talent and inspiration and motivation are wasting away and I know it. But I can't let him go. I can't let him leave me alone. Not after all we've been through. Not after everything we've fought to accomplish. Not after all the times he's been there for me. I've cycled through so many friends, I've watched so many of them leave, and I refuse to let him become one more ghost of my past.
You can't go. Oh, god, you can't leave me. Please, I'm begging you to stay. I'm not ready for this. Now can't be the right time. Just give me more time. Give it more time. Please don't leave me. Can't you see? I'll die without you. I haven't the strength to carry your legacy on in my heart.
Do you remember when I died before? It was you who picked the pieces of my shattered heart up off the floor, and showed me how to forge a new, monstrous creation out of the wreckage. Do you remember the blood pacts we swore? Do you remember the spells we recited? Do you remember how we found comfort in each other's loneliness? Do you remember how our powers grew?
My mind and body are shutting down on separate, chaotic paths of destruction. I feel the earth spinning, and we descend, like a watery dream, painting circles in my blood, clutching the curtain, lowering voices to a hush... don't let them try to patch me up.
That was you. That was us. Two years ago. Lazarus.
Lazarus- Beyond a best friend. Beyond a sister. Beyond a father. Far beyond a lover. What we have, what you gave me, in yourself, is far from what I could have hoped for. It's done nothing but grow. You have been my muse for three years now. Lazarus, my necromancer, my shaman in the night.
I have survived your departure. You have grown in brilliance and power and chaotic dismay, but you've been kept at bay. Two years ago, I thought it would all change. My heart broke and scattered a million times but it healed and we became stronger- perhaps- in preparation for this day.
Today is the day when you break free. Today marks the day when you will truly begin to actualize the gore and glory you were destined for. I have been selfish and covetous of you for two years now and I can't hold you back any longer. This is your step towards what has always been yours to claim- I will one day meet you there. Do not reach back into the past for the haunting love of us tiny ghosts. Don't look back. Only those who have power and passion that reflect yours will have the strength to reach into the future, to reach out to you. All other ties are ropes pulling you back into a decaying shrine- its beautiful, but empty and void of any magic without you. Do not exalt it.
I love you Lazarus. I will not break and crumble and fall in your absence. We have things to do in the future. You have things to do in the now. They are of paramount importance. You have been through too much, you've accomplished too much, you are becoming far to splendorous for it to be tainted by any shallow pangs of past sorrow that those who stay here may bring. Do not count me among them. Keep shape shifting towards the future my truest love, and I will always be at your side.
This is not goodbye.
Your my forever boy.
I am your forever girl, so long as you'll have me.
- Ivy
You can't go. Oh, god, you can't leave me. Please, I'm begging you to stay. I'm not ready for this. Now can't be the right time. Just give me more time. Give it more time. Please don't leave me. Can't you see? I'll die without you. I haven't the strength to carry your legacy on in my heart.
Do you remember when I died before? It was you who picked the pieces of my shattered heart up off the floor, and showed me how to forge a new, monstrous creation out of the wreckage. Do you remember the blood pacts we swore? Do you remember the spells we recited? Do you remember how we found comfort in each other's loneliness? Do you remember how our powers grew?
My mind and body are shutting down on separate, chaotic paths of destruction. I feel the earth spinning, and we descend, like a watery dream, painting circles in my blood, clutching the curtain, lowering voices to a hush... don't let them try to patch me up.
That was you. That was us. Two years ago. Lazarus.
Lazarus- Beyond a best friend. Beyond a sister. Beyond a father. Far beyond a lover. What we have, what you gave me, in yourself, is far from what I could have hoped for. It's done nothing but grow. You have been my muse for three years now. Lazarus, my necromancer, my shaman in the night.
I have survived your departure. You have grown in brilliance and power and chaotic dismay, but you've been kept at bay. Two years ago, I thought it would all change. My heart broke and scattered a million times but it healed and we became stronger- perhaps- in preparation for this day.
Today is the day when you break free. Today marks the day when you will truly begin to actualize the gore and glory you were destined for. I have been selfish and covetous of you for two years now and I can't hold you back any longer. This is your step towards what has always been yours to claim- I will one day meet you there. Do not reach back into the past for the haunting love of us tiny ghosts. Don't look back. Only those who have power and passion that reflect yours will have the strength to reach into the future, to reach out to you. All other ties are ropes pulling you back into a decaying shrine- its beautiful, but empty and void of any magic without you. Do not exalt it.
I love you Lazarus. I will not break and crumble and fall in your absence. We have things to do in the future. You have things to do in the now. They are of paramount importance. You have been through too much, you've accomplished too much, you are becoming far to splendorous for it to be tainted by any shallow pangs of past sorrow that those who stay here may bring. Do not count me among them. Keep shape shifting towards the future my truest love, and I will always be at your side.
This is not goodbye.
Your my forever boy.
I am your forever girl, so long as you'll have me.
- Ivy
3.18.2014
Little Dove
Little Dove
I saw your nest fall
Splinter and scatter on the ground
Perched high on that shaky branch
The breeze was strong
Ruffling your delicate feathers
Your twiggy legs trying to hold on
Sweet little singing bird
I heard your sad, strange song
Carried along
By that violent breeze
It spinned and swirled around my heart
I followed it to that tree
But you were gone
Darling birdy
Come sit on my arm
Peck the seeds from my palms
Hide away in my hair
From the sun’s harsh glare
I wouldn’t keep you for long
Pretty little dove
I sometimes whistle your song
When I’m down
I think of lighter winds
And softer skies
And know you’ll take flight
And make a lovely little home
The winter won’t last long
Stay strong
My kindred little dove
2.26.2014
Waiting for the Right Man
In the Christian sphere of influence, there has been a popularized notion that men need to "step up to the plate" in relationships. Men need to take charge, get jobs, work hard, dress well, stay fit, make intentional decisions, think about others, be a provider, lavishly spend their time on making sure women's spiritual, emotional, physical, and intellectual needs are met. The romanticized vision of traditional relationships is once again elevated to the pinnacle of success in intimacy. The woman should be financially provided for. The man should maintain his moral integrity. He should never even think about other women in a sexual context. He must only date with the intention of marriage, and if that is the intent, he should be intentional with following through.
This vision for the ideal christian man is challenged by popular culture as backwards and archaic. The narrative is seen as a direct push-back against cultural progression in the realm of relationships. This view has not serviced to dismantle the ideological infrastructure of the Christian man's role, but has further emphasized its necessity.
Both the popular Christian narrative for relationships as well as the secular progressive movements on human sexuality are lacking balance in their assertions. This stems from asking the wrong initial question. I will give you, what I believe is the right one.
What's important?
If you were to answer the question on the spot, I would imagine two answers: Love and Happiness.
Those are good answers, and I am not discrediting their validity, but I will tell you they are wrong. Love and happiness are simply symptomatic effects of defining what is important. I will also tell you that they are not static states of being that can be eternally maintained, unless you change their definitions. I will further assert that there is nothing wrong with not being able to maintain static happiness and giddy, infatuated love. Instead of getting into that discussion, lets go back to the issue of what is important.
There many ways to address this question, and it is one that will constantly shape every movement in your life- whether or not you are consciously addressing it. But on the issue of long term, intimate relationships between one set of two human beings- I think that is the question we must face dead on.
We are experiencing a liberating sexual revolution where men and women can marry whom they choose. Marriage is an institution founded in commitment to a sole individual. In the wakes of this progressive movement, several ideas have been raised as to what is important and why this has become an important issue. It is not that human sexuality and sexual identity is important, it is not that religious affiliation is important, it isn't even that societal norms are important- what has allowed this movement to gain momentum and precedence is human rights. We all should have the right to marry. All should be given the same opportunities, regardless of the other stuff.
But then you enter into the marriage itself and ask, what is important? And as you're trying to answer the question as purely and idealistically as you can, you start to look at the nature of a marriage. Marriage is a partnership. It is choosing someone you want to spend the rest of your life with. It is choosing the time and the person with which you want to actualize your future, your goals.... someone you want to pay bills with, sleep with, shop with, fight with, conspire and scheme with, eat with, get old with, be vulnerable with... everything till the day you die-with.
That type of alliance is one you will never have with friends, with your career, with your home... it is singularly reserved for certain familial contexts, and marriage. That sacredness and even definition of marriage has not been upheld, because people feel they pick the wrong person. And we pick the wrong people because we aren't answering what's important. If the life-time partnership and your partner in crime are what is most important in your relationship to both of you, then it will work.
What is most important to both of you must be the same, otherwise, every attempt to create something of substance and value in your relationship will be convoluted and short lived. And how do you determine someone who answers the question the same as you? First of all, you know because they're the type of person who is asking it. Second of all, you know because you ask it of yourself.
Knowing where you stand and who you are at the very core is what will guide you to your future lifetime teammate. And rather than demanding these behavior attributes out of man to somehow contrive a definition of what a Christian man and what his intimate relationships to be, we should ask him to ask this question.
And.... THE BIG AND.... we should be asking the same of women. We need people in this world who know where they stand. We need people who are confident of who they are at their very core because they ask what's important. They know what is important to them.... not just loose words that umbrella vague concepts of what is acceptable and familiar in the world... but actually understanding what we live for, what we would die for, and what truths are guiding the limited time we have on this earth.
The traditional marriage is a sound image to draw goals from and to try and replicate. But it is because when you look at the man and the women united, they support each other. They contribute. Their accomplishments and failures and ecstasies and sorrows are shared. Their lives enhance and compliment each other. They are two individuals who can accomplish many things on their own, but the vibrancy and expanse of what their able to create is enhanced by the unity of the other. They make more of a difference and enjoy more of the little things and understand what it means to be human more so together than alone.
That is why human intimacy in the form of marriage is important. That is why we must ask the tough questions. And that is why before running off subscribing to various popular ideals, we must always, always know where we stand and where we are heading. We must uncover what it really means, we must strip down, simplify, and refine the pile of rhetoric that builds in our mind without careful observation. And guys, lets really see if we can be what we were meant to be, lets do things with intention, and celebrate the freedom in knowing what it means to be human.
This vision for the ideal christian man is challenged by popular culture as backwards and archaic. The narrative is seen as a direct push-back against cultural progression in the realm of relationships. This view has not serviced to dismantle the ideological infrastructure of the Christian man's role, but has further emphasized its necessity.
Both the popular Christian narrative for relationships as well as the secular progressive movements on human sexuality are lacking balance in their assertions. This stems from asking the wrong initial question. I will give you, what I believe is the right one.
What's important?
If you were to answer the question on the spot, I would imagine two answers: Love and Happiness.
Those are good answers, and I am not discrediting their validity, but I will tell you they are wrong. Love and happiness are simply symptomatic effects of defining what is important. I will also tell you that they are not static states of being that can be eternally maintained, unless you change their definitions. I will further assert that there is nothing wrong with not being able to maintain static happiness and giddy, infatuated love. Instead of getting into that discussion, lets go back to the issue of what is important.
There many ways to address this question, and it is one that will constantly shape every movement in your life- whether or not you are consciously addressing it. But on the issue of long term, intimate relationships between one set of two human beings- I think that is the question we must face dead on.
We are experiencing a liberating sexual revolution where men and women can marry whom they choose. Marriage is an institution founded in commitment to a sole individual. In the wakes of this progressive movement, several ideas have been raised as to what is important and why this has become an important issue. It is not that human sexuality and sexual identity is important, it is not that religious affiliation is important, it isn't even that societal norms are important- what has allowed this movement to gain momentum and precedence is human rights. We all should have the right to marry. All should be given the same opportunities, regardless of the other stuff.
But then you enter into the marriage itself and ask, what is important? And as you're trying to answer the question as purely and idealistically as you can, you start to look at the nature of a marriage. Marriage is a partnership. It is choosing someone you want to spend the rest of your life with. It is choosing the time and the person with which you want to actualize your future, your goals.... someone you want to pay bills with, sleep with, shop with, fight with, conspire and scheme with, eat with, get old with, be vulnerable with... everything till the day you die-with.
That type of alliance is one you will never have with friends, with your career, with your home... it is singularly reserved for certain familial contexts, and marriage. That sacredness and even definition of marriage has not been upheld, because people feel they pick the wrong person. And we pick the wrong people because we aren't answering what's important. If the life-time partnership and your partner in crime are what is most important in your relationship to both of you, then it will work.
What is most important to both of you must be the same, otherwise, every attempt to create something of substance and value in your relationship will be convoluted and short lived. And how do you determine someone who answers the question the same as you? First of all, you know because they're the type of person who is asking it. Second of all, you know because you ask it of yourself.
Knowing where you stand and who you are at the very core is what will guide you to your future lifetime teammate. And rather than demanding these behavior attributes out of man to somehow contrive a definition of what a Christian man and what his intimate relationships to be, we should ask him to ask this question.
And.... THE BIG AND.... we should be asking the same of women. We need people in this world who know where they stand. We need people who are confident of who they are at their very core because they ask what's important. They know what is important to them.... not just loose words that umbrella vague concepts of what is acceptable and familiar in the world... but actually understanding what we live for, what we would die for, and what truths are guiding the limited time we have on this earth.
The traditional marriage is a sound image to draw goals from and to try and replicate. But it is because when you look at the man and the women united, they support each other. They contribute. Their accomplishments and failures and ecstasies and sorrows are shared. Their lives enhance and compliment each other. They are two individuals who can accomplish many things on their own, but the vibrancy and expanse of what their able to create is enhanced by the unity of the other. They make more of a difference and enjoy more of the little things and understand what it means to be human more so together than alone.
That is why human intimacy in the form of marriage is important. That is why we must ask the tough questions. And that is why before running off subscribing to various popular ideals, we must always, always know where we stand and where we are heading. We must uncover what it really means, we must strip down, simplify, and refine the pile of rhetoric that builds in our mind without careful observation. And guys, lets really see if we can be what we were meant to be, lets do things with intention, and celebrate the freedom in knowing what it means to be human.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)