A Journal of Sorts
"sing once again with me our strange duet my power over you grows stronger yet" ~ Tim Rice ~ the singer draws me out, I am compelled... and strange auras surround all who appear to listen projected by all who sing, but so few truly hear... the play is life... and yet, so few appear to script themselves beyond the path laid out for them by elders in their clan... as if free will was not available (in spite of several references to the contrary in the main guide books chosen by most for this life)... as if the ability to choose was not possible (ditto and all that jazzness)... as if some dark ceature hidden in some below ground orafice was seducing you into submitting to it's will... or some light entity floating out in space was simply deciding your life... leaving it in another's hands removes responsibility, huh?... maybe that's the point of most people's choices... but I am one who chooses a different path... other must choose similarly different paths, but you're not around here today so I sit here rambling on as if all these words will somehow either bring you to me or let you know me... neither is happening, so far, no matter what we might think... some days I get the distinct impression that nobody is paying attention... want to prove me wrong?... maybe you'd jot a more anonymous word or few in a guestbook if I had one (though the guest group and slam book hasn't inspired any attention)... but here, let me know... just say I want a guestbook... maybe there will be one up around here one of these days... anyway, the attraction for some of the words and images floating around out there is higher every day... and that is a definite sign of my waking up and moving closer to healing and letting myself out of the cocoon I wrapped myself in to fascilitate healing... but that is a very long other story I grew tired of telling (in spite of some necessity to) way long before it was soup (that is, finished being written, or lived for that matter I think)... besides, nobody ever really wanted to hear it in it's entirety even if it could all be told cuz it couldn't all be put into words until someone read it in my eyes and deeper avenues of expression and nobody is here... not even me sometimes... you might think you know me you might think we're in love but you could never own me I'm more than you dream of you may think that you feel me but you can't even imagine what makes my anima real is beyond your wildest passion and if these thoughts turn you off then you've never been turned on and if these thoughts turn you on can you explain it before it's gone? you might think you move me you might think I want you but move and you will lose me I won't tell you what to do you may think you understand but your mind won't reach that far the answer to this riddle is closer than you are and if these thoughts stimulate you then you have a race to run and if you figure it all out will you tell me before it's done? cantelina halovera aurizela syncofania filabella vieamortea ricenomo enceforte cuoreballo fiduciamore cantavita miadore from the nonsense comes the miracle from the obscure comes the beautiful from the magic comes ethereal from the language comes the visceral the touch, the kiss the hands, the lips the heart, the soul the mind, control let go, let go, let go incantations revelations viscerations masturbations undulations computations permutations imaginations beauty in the heart trust your feelings life is a song sing of my love sing to me love sing my love there.. I just put a spell on you... have fun J |
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