Literary Ramblings Archives
|Here you will find Little stray bits and pieces that I wrote, some are poetry or short stories, some are just random thoughts. They are my thoughts, views and opinions.|
This is a list of general writings, by title. I think each one is dated on the individual page. They are in no particular order as they don't relate to each other for the most part. They make up the ramblings that were written before the year 2001.
The newer postings will always be added to the top of the list. And have *(asterics) next to them.
The section called Angel Speaks here, is a project I did some time ago. I only have two pieces posted so far, so will add an explanation later. They may someday have their own page but I have to dig through older notebooks to find more of them.
The back button at the bottom returns you to the main Ramblings page.
August 23, 2000 Found this amongst
What does debt mean to me?
It means a lack of freedom, tied to a job or source of income. It means I am dependant on others for all sorts of security issues.
Debtfree means that I owe nobody anything and I am free to move about my life without explanation, timetables or other peoples perceptions of what I need to do with my life. I am in debt because I thought I needed ownership to be free but instead it makes me more trapped by societies expectations.
Success to me would be having my shit together, not responding to life's tendencies but anticipating the cycles and moving through them gracefully.
My career is my life, not my job.
I want to be able to save for spending not spend my savings, there is the switch in perspective.
I don't want to keep being in debt to live my life. I am disappointed in 'God' for not supporting me in a more supportive manner. When I was little 'God' took care of everything. Now, it seems that 'God' leaves everything up to me and I don't want the responsibility. I was promised rose gardens and all I grow are weeds.
--- Back To Top
Clinic Rambling November
There is a sleep clinic and I get paid to show up and sleep. They keep a separate room for me, nice neat, clean with a single bed. One clock on the wall, ear plugs in top of the nightstand with candles, notepads, pens, lighters. I have a small refrigerator where they stock water, 7 up, cheese crackers, fruits, fresh veggies. No sugar other than what is in the 7up, no processed cheese other than the cheese and crackers. Rules are that I must sleep 6 nights a week here. I sometimes come in 4-5 afternoons for naps too. The doctors think I am special because I treat this as work and journal my dreams while I am here. They make special accommodations for me. I requested that my TV be put over head in the corner so the electrical frequencies don't interfere with my sleep patterns. I know some of the other patience very well. John is manic depressive with a compulsive obsessive disorder, unable to keep to their regime, he will sometimes disappear for up to 3 days with no sleep and then reappear and crash for 24 hours. They figure they get their hours all at once so they don't hassle him about not sticking to the 6 day routine. I have been trying to assist him on his sleep / dreaming and we try to coordinate meetings while dreaming. What I am finding is that time operates differently within the dream state and I may have an episode that occurred three days ago and John may go to sleep and enter that dreamscape in the now time. I am playing with the implications of this concept and encourage him to continue trying to find me and vice versa. I know we have connected when specific elements within the dream are too similar to be coincidence. They also like me here because I introduce past life regression and astral travel tapes and allow them to monitor their effects on my alpha, beta, and theta states of awareness. They are studying sleep patterns and rhythms and I am analyzing my dreamscapes. A new doctor has just arrived and all hell is about to break loose. --- Back To Top
November 12, 2000
I was thinking of this scene for a movie and the line was "now is the winter of my life for I am dying" and then I started to cry because it was true.
When I was little, I was a princess and my father owned the world and when I grew up, I knew that I wanted all the money in the world so that I could be sure that nobody ever went without things they needed. As I grew up in real life, I can not find the money I left here and my father has let the kingdom go to hell. I am thinking now that my "father" was not a good money manager. It always seemed there was enough when I was young but it seems harder to find now that I am a young woman. I have been angry, mostly disillusioned and discouraged, sometimes I think of my future and I feel ill about it. I have had many things and my life did not feel right and then I have had not so many things and my life did not feel right. I don't know what it is I am searching for but I am kind of tired of looking. --- Back To Top
Seneca Rambling Sometime In 1993
I wrote this for a women's study class I took in 1993. There must have been more background to provoke it but I don't recall it now. The comment the teacher wrote on the bottom of the paper was....a powerful statement.
A Seneca Woman:
December 13, 2000
Here I have been led, not by accident, not necessarily by fate but here I stand precariously balanced on the edge of this abyss. The only direction I can go is forward into the darkness, into the abyss. Going back has never, ever been a viable option. I have heard about depression. I saw it on television, in movies, on talk shows. I brushed shoulders with my sister who watched the world angrily from the shadows most of her life. But, I never understood it. Wasn't I a dancer of the light? Wasn't I a child of God? Wasn't I...Wasn't I? The lost child. Children of the lost. Who was I now? Who was I before? When did I loose myself? I am searching for the light, the lightness, a source of being. There are no accidents and I have created this shadow world I have been exploring, creating. For weeks, I have thrown up more darkness and I shove my way in blindness and it has taken so much of my energy and so much of my source. I feel so drained as if I will disappear into any moment and I don't seem to mind so much. Not as I would have minded on the days of sunshine. I wrote once, recently, that this is the winter of my life for I am dying and then I stopped and cried because I knew it was TRUTH. A part of me must die, has to die soon. The part dying must enter that abyss and see if there is anything on the other side, if there is an end to the long darkness. I must go in search of a light I thought I always held inside but seems to have been terminally extinguished. A dark night for the soul? Perhaps. But I have been here before, I have been here many, many times before. And I live on. How much effort does it require to maintain our illusions? How much does it cost to keep them alive? --- Back To Top
Thoughts On Dreams November 27, 2000
The more I dream, the more I become convinced that the dream does not occur on the inside of our mind. I think the dream occurs in the energy field around the body and the minds eye watches it like a movie on a 3-d screen. The reason I think this, is because when awake, before a dream is captured by pen and paper, you can not recapture the dream by scanning the mind. Rather you must relax and project your energy outward and then pieces of the dream appear in your field that you can re-string through the movie projector and pieces of it will be recalled by the mind only after it is reviewed by the minds eye. And, if you don't reclaim the images from the energy field they dissipate like smoke until they are completely irretrievable. Some images cling longer because the message is so important that until you acknowledge them, you may get whiffs of the dream for days. I think this is significant, because even though the center of your being may be located within, the platform it uses to communicate can be way outside of the body. The stronger my spirit the more influence I might have on up to 20 feet from my core in which case my dreams can incorporate much larger fields of play, combining, changing and manipulating much larger fields of energy and reality. What if when I dream, if you had special vision, you could see the action all around me while I slept in the middle, yet I appear as awakened and participating in the dream? --- Back To Top
More Thoughts November 27, 2000
Old Stars. Old movies and toxic tapes booby trapping me into microwaves like other people. Need to make my own way, do my own hair even if it means going against what others think is best. There is new energy being introduced to me and I need to take my dreams seriously because they contain messages and information and even though it is frustrating, I need to stick with it because it is leading me toward my future and provides me with a challenge as opposed to the old way of doing things. I need to ask for opportunities that are appropriate for my highest good and take what is offered and not challenge the offering because if I ask for only that which is appropriate, then only those will be presented to me as an offer and trust that process. Be clear and stop blaming "God" for what is being offered because I get what I ask for and if I don't ask appropriately then I won't see an appropriate response. Be specific. So my real question should be how to manifest only the opportunities that are for my highest good. And, have faith that these will take me to where I need to be. Don't manifest out of desperation. Take my dreams serious even when I don't seem to need them or the information they contain. Take God out of the equation because it is you who are creating here. --- Back To Top
Raccoon Watch Sometime in 1993
It was amusing to watch the raccoon feel around for the food with his paws while looking around and over its shoulder. He looked very much like he was blind and using his sense of touch in order to find the food. He sat squatted and reared up on his hind legs, little arms extended in front of him as he chomped away on the wheat chex. I tried not to laugh as raisons got stuck in his teeth and he used his sharp little claws to dig at them. Both little paws would go into his mouth at the same time as all other movement stopped except for the furtive digging. He wrinkled his nose on each bite too, reminding me of myself when I smelled something distasteful. I honestly couldn't tell if he couldn't see me because of the light shining onto the patio or if he just didn't care that my cats and I sat on the other side of the glass, watching. Does it seem odd? Something which seems so small and insignificant fills my heart to almost bursting with pleasure. I feel as though my life would be complete to just spend every day feeding the wildlife and watching their little movements. I especially like the fact that "Rocky" left some of the wheat chex behind, probably for a snack at a later time. --- Back To Top
Encounter September 5, 2000
I don't know what this piece is but it started with a partial dialogue and I went with it. There was too much for me NOT to put it in my ramblings section.
"I have never
met a woman who could steal my energy away from me, invade my soul and use
me for her own pleasures, and against my will. I did not know that
women like you existed, sexual vampires feeding on a mans sexual
Fairytale Dreams October 13, 2000
I dream of fairy tales
happiness in the end
all this I wish but
ego cannot stand behind--- Back To Top ---
I Melt October 13, 2000
I melt, I dissolve, I
Imperfect View December 18, 1999
It is a harsh reality to have someone else's perception of you rudely thrust upon your own somewhat imperfect view of yourself.
Never one to pay much mind to what others think, it still hurts my heart when I find that people I hold in high regard, regard me as so much less than what I am.
For myself, I know that I am a work of art in the making. And, when I view others it seems that I see in them the art that is still in the making.
And, while we may not all turn out to be Rembrandts, I like to think we at least become a Picasso. Odd and different but held in awe by our unduplicatable uniqueness. --- Back To Top
Mistress of Chaos October 13, 2000
I am the mistress of
No Answers October 13, 2000
I don't know all the answers and I don't care.
If all we have is this single point of consciousness and the only thing I can count to be real is this one single moment, then how can I invest anything into the past or even a moment beyond now.
I only exist in this single moment as my pen brushes paper, I become a piece of something that might survive or flicker out like a distant star nobody misses. If my words sit forever in another's heart, mind, vague remembrances then perhaps I will have kissed immortality but then again it could just as easily be a whisper of the imagination in the dreams of a child.
For is that not who we have each been, always and we keep trying to not see it but forever our eyes shine with ancient knowledge and our hearts beat with hidden desire and our emotions are only set free when we live the anguish of a diminished youth. --- Back To Top
Pegasus October 13, 2000
A wing-ed horse of power
Potential Lacking August 22, 1999
I think more and more about how we create our realities and those people and experiences we draw to us.
I focus alot on people I don't care for much and why it is that I dislike them. Usually I can narrow it down to one category which is that they show me a part of myself that I really prefer not to see. When I am not living up to my potential, when I am being judgmental.
I give more credit to individuals who make an attempt to use their creativity in their own private manner as though they have earned my respect and non-judgment when this can hardly be right.
What if all of those individuals I dislike are trying very hard to use their creativity but I can't see it because I have no interest in who they are. What if the ones I pity, and there are a few I pity because they attempt and fail...but at least they do attempt. What if that pity is another form of judgment and is just as unfounded because I don't know how far they have come and I don't know how far they have yet to go?
As for myself, perhaps I should concentrate on looking only at my own mirrors and not the mirrors others hold up to me. --- Back To Top
A Thousand Dreams August 12, 2000
A thousand dreams, and one memory, propelling one toward destiny, a self-discovery and cleansing of perception that one must put away childhood images and reconcile the past in order to support the present, and hopefully to build a viable future.
It is too much for one to do consciously, so we forget the pain. We twist events to make them palatable. And then, one day the truth arises and spits a new reality and all of our safety-built walls come tumbling around us. We are left to dig through the rubble and see if there is a strong enough foundation to rebuild.
I exercise my ghosts daily, reintroduce myself to them and seduce them to a cause that seems more acceptable to me. Because I have the power and control to effect past events in ways others will never comprehend. --- Back To Top
We Travel Alone December 18, 1999
What I learned today was that no matter who it is close to me and what ideas they have about who I am, it does not alter my belief in myself, who I am, what I am trying to become and how I get there.
My path again leads down lone roads that even while I am immersed in the throngs of family and friends, I still travel it alone.
Where do I go from here? I don't know.
I have never known but I always move, sometimes forward, sometimes backward and sometimes just around.
Constantly moving into change, constantly dancing with the chaos, and all I can do is be as close to me as I can get.
Nobody else seems to know how to get here, to just be with me, and I can not help them. --- Back To Top
What I see September 30, 1998
But, you don't see what is before you
not all that I am
In you, I see all that you are and more.
I see all that you could be,
all that you have been
And, all that you will be --- Back To Top
Distracted Circa 1995
Sometimes, I feel greedy.
Story of a dream or dream of a story?
I can almost see the street. Dark covered in shadows from dim street lamps and a half clouded moon. I float across the pavement searching. The street feels empty but there are eyes watching from everywhere. I can't see them but I sense them on me, measuring my progress as if daring me to take a wrong direction, to move incorrectly, to fail at a mission I have no knowledge of. I know it sounds crazy but it is as though the entire universe understands my purpose in life, everyone and everything in it knows - except me. I fake my way through and pray I don't stumble and there is this damn dark street that I can't seem to figure out where it goes. I just keep wandering forward one foot in front of the other which is when I realize I'm not walking down this street at all but gliding on it like air. And, this isn't my destination and not really even my journey. It was just a piece of the path I got distracted by.
The darkness and confusion has misled me into believing that I was progressing, fooling the eyes that watch over me. When in truth the only person I have fooled has been myself. I find myself at the entrance to the library. The concrete steps and walls glow ghostly. I feel welcomed but weary as if the steps are too much for me to climb. My knees feel weak and my inner voice tells me to slow down focus on my heartbeat for clarity. In a minute or two, as soothing as the heart sounds I hear a second beating. Louder, it seems, slightly faster, I feel my heart rate increase to match it. I'm almost crawling on my knees. I reach for the stone wall beside the steps and lean against it for support. Cold stone pressing against my back, keeping me somehow conscious and focused. I am out of breath though I have done no physical exercise.
I follow the steps with my eyes, slowly up the wall to the corner stone Gargoyle perched before me. It's long snout gleams white in the strange lighting. Teeth glow fiercely, a trick of my imagination, I am sure. The eyes seem to glow an eerie red from where I half lay in the shadows. The gargoyle looks like a winged alligator. The head and the tail anyway. It's body appears quite human like with short arms and legs that again appear reptilian. He is watching me. I don't just think this. He tells me this but he isn't really talking to me - he is thinking to me. I am thinking that the second heartbeat is his when I become aware of the dwarfed pachyderm coming toward me down the steps. I call it a pachyderm because when I thought it was an elephant it corrected me mentally and told me it was a pachyderm. I'm not sure I know what the difference is between the two.
Anyway, what I thought was a heartbeat is the vibration of the pachyderms feet as she lifts one foot and drops another onto the concrete. You can see why I was easily mistaken. She is coming toward me and as she passes, her trunk reaches out and there is a blinding flash of light. I think she touches me but I am not sure and then I always wake up someplace weird like the bath tub fully clothed or in the kitchen naked with the refrigerator door open and I'm kneeling in front of it. I don't think I am missing any details. It is strange because usually when you try to remember parts of a dream it becomes hazy and you just naturally forget but I can always remember everything in great detail. I miss nothing.
Don't you think that's strange?
Witch Birth August 18. 2000
Her hair blew around her wildly like tentacles from a land bound octopus, snakelike with mind of its own. Lightening fingers split the sky and winds raped trees until they bent nearly in half to caress the ground. The rain in the air had not yet released itself among the moors.
The woman chanted, turning to the four directions, called up the spirits as the sky witnessed her magic and exploded in to the night. The palest hint of moon hung waxing, sickle-shaped, where no stars shine.
Her voice rose, the wind howled, songs of the land came together and in the dark of winter solstice, her body was prepared for birth. The mound of her abdomen flinched as chants changed to screams of pain, then rage, as she collapsed to the ground.
The child girl, 12 months gestation, the sign of a natural witch - born in the caul, signifying psychic abilities. Brittania Jain was born December 22, any year, for she learned to live forever. --- Back To Top
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