FOR LOVE

There is nothing one won’t do save to hurt self beyond recognition.

The sun (Sol) came out and stated “your mate” to which I did not reply to her labeling of the status.  How now she comes to this assumption?  Dost she assume what is not or does she see what may someday be?  YES.  Perhaps she did see.  Tis I that use the word as thus to mean thus and no more nor no less.  Tis value!  Alas, I request to know where value lies–not in ties dyed and dried left for the wind and nothing more.  Her invite to 26 has been noted and shall not be forgotten.

Do you see?  How far is thy sight?  Tis naught what I would hope for, but it is what it is.  Values have been questioned and confusion lays in its wake with conflicting data–mind messed in a matter of sorts.  Nay to potato.  Free me as I be.  Whatever I may be and whenever I may be.  Sorrow has no time in these parts as I will save that for others of lesser means and values.  Tis for pity’s sake and no more.  I do question if that is my sake as well.  If for my sake as well, then I recognize it not, but note that I shall not allow myself to walk in those shoes.   

The level has changed and I am pleased.  I saw and see things differently, but nevertheless conflicting.  Naturally occurring in more ways than one.  I saw and see shadows of love elegantly displayed and wonderfully executed.  My heart bleeds in ways that I presently allow, but let it be as it may for now or until the tide turns.  From here I borrow from my past. ~ Maggie ~ Penned on December 30, 2008 prior to midnight - edited this night 12/31/08.

Once again, I remind my stalker to fuck off and to get a real life.  Your behavior makes me not give a rat’s ass about you.  If I hurt you at this point, ask me if I care.  I DON’T GIVE A FLYING FUCK so deal with it.  I had heart (past tense) for your situation, but no more.  Said The Raven: “NEVERMORE.” - E.A. Poe

The New Year~

The calendar shows a new year, but to me it is just part of the season called winter.  There is nothing earth shattering or fantastic about it.  Why do we celebrate it?  Does the ball dropping in Times Square only indicate that another year of your life has gone by with the numbers screaming wildly if you happen to be watching the screen?  Even if you aren’t watching the screen, you will know the year as the numbers will surround you in calendar form while the clock ticks to the minute hand’s delight.  Why is it only going to be 2010 when so much more time has passed?

People look to change in the supposed new, yet fail to see the they are still in a slumber.  Can snow caps liquidate themselves to the stream while blanketing the mountain?  Why can’t the new year be celebrated when the newness comes?  In other words, why not celebrate spring as that is when birth occurs just as fall indicates falling away or gearing down toward sleep.  “To sleep per chance to dream...” nothing dies per se, but sleeps the winter away only to spring forward in the awakening or rebirth.  Look to it when the buds start to appear and when the newly born romp about.  The awakening seems more like a new year and a reason to celebrate life. ~ Maggie ~ December 16, 2009 @ 10:57 p.m. EST

Dancing~ NOT POSTED

I called him tonight and he will call me back later as he had to cook dinner.  Eight o’clock sounds fine to me.  He does not know it yet, but I may ask him if he would care to dance with me after the year is new.  Mind you, in asking him to dance, I first have to advise my other dance partner that I may be making a request of another.  In my honest opinion, I do not think he (present dance partner) will mind one bit.  As for the other dancer, I think over time, he will mind a great deal IF I am correct in my assumption.  The assumption is based on a feeler that was put out for information purposes only.  He did not cast judgement or dictate as did my experiment, but instead gave me his knowledge of human nature.  I could say he was doing the math.  However, he does not know that I may ask him.  Maybe I will not ask him.  As if I would even have to ask him.  Duh.  That is a no brainer.  Okay so we put in cement and rubber stamped it that we would never dance as we are such great friends.  Besides, I have my own issues with him that I believe could be worked out in a peaceful manner.  Overall, I love the guy as a person, but I do not know about the dancing aspect.  Not yet.

What do I want in the long run?  That is what I am looking at.  What do I see before me and where do I see it going? ~ 12/14/09 @ 6:14 p.m.  REFER BACK TO NOVEMBER 30th.

December 2009

The constant “I” is the “I” in progression through various stages of life and experience. That in itself constitutes change. ~ Maggie

Monkey In The Middle~

I know why I like my solitude: there is no drama.  I do love my daughter and mother very much, but to lie in the middle while one requests “tell so and so <you name it>” and the other makes the same *request is insane.  Both my loved ones have been put on notice that I will not participate.

To my mother, I pled guilty to everything and bid her farewell.  To my daughter, I advised her that I have opted out of the middle.  There was no “she said <blah blah>” to either party.  I simply got phone calls with complaints and *requests.  I don’t have a problem listening to the complaints, but I can’t do the *request thing.  I only do the **suggest thing.  Sure I listen to both sides and note differences of perspective, however, who is telling the truth?  The truth lies somewhere in the muddle and I don’t have time to mess with it.  It is for them, as adults, to sort their own nonsense.  Neither one needs stress which sounds perfectly reasonable, but neither do I.

It was suggested to both parties that they cease speaking to each other.  What they do with that suggestion is up to them.  I wash my hands of it. Bah! ~ Maggie ~ 12/7/09 @ 10:03 p.m. EST

Unscorched

Head bows down
As eyes rise in knowing
Arms lift from their sides and expand upward, yet
In artful manner wrists point downward
Suddenly, as the head flings back, a mighty breath is drawn
Soar is on the mind as plumage is gained in breadth and width
Take flight and gaze below!
What dost thou see?
The pan from space shows no true topography from this height
As the dimensions tri are missing from view
Flat as a pan does the panning hold
View a form of what function
At present, I see only a two dimensional view
Perhaps a greater survey is necessary
From the top down or bottom up
To find that which, from a distance, cannot be detailed out
Yet upon closer inspection, I fall to earth
Bound by muck and mire
I free my being and leave my plumage behind
Until I rise again
Fly again
To gain a greater perspective
Gratefully, I have not been scorched by the sun ~ Arachne ~ December 6, 2009 @ 12:58 a.m. EST

While Waiting In The Car~

While waiting in the car for my mom, I experienced a very interesting display which only I could see and hear.  It did make time fly.  As the cars, people, trees, and other objects disappeared, I heard and saw the following:

There was a sad symphony of music in the background as a couple came together.  From a distance, their small precise steps seemed dance-like and methodical: almost choreographed to the sound.  The couple that I speak of were not a human couple but more like anime images that played in my head.  As they came closer, their eyes widened and sparkled and they locked into a gaze.  Again as if choreographed, their arms reached out to one another grasping at each other’s elbows keeping at least a foot of space between them.  I saw love in her eyes while his eyes maintained a look of curiosity.  Was one of his brows raised as if to form a question?  From my mind’s perspective, I could see tears swelling in her big bright eyes, but she spoke not a word and steadfastly gazed as if trying to absorb him through vision.  Her eyes were speaking volumes to him, however, he heard her not.  She knew he did not: she felt he did not.  I felt her feelings.  Seemingly at once, they clung to each other in a long embrace as if clinging to life itself.  Slowly, but beautifully, they floated upward into the sky while the sad music played on. They did whirl for a bit in a lovely array, but upon their landing, the sad gaze became apparent to him.  To the ground her eyes drifted as she watched her tear splatter out a design much like that of blood splatter yet lacking its color.  Returning her eyes to him, she kissed him and then walked away. ~ Maggie ~ December 4, 2009 @ 9:15 p.m. EST   

Unfortunately, I cannot include all the details as they would not make sense.

The Card/Mark~

Words versus actions lead to an opposing result.  Perhaps truth is not quite told in the full.  Regardless, the card is being played at a most interesting rate.  I can’t say that I care at this moment.  Then again, how could I care about something so pathetic?  Suffice it is to say that the “mark” is intensely called upon out of NEED and responses by the "mark" are made out of NEED.  Tis rather a NEEDY scenario.  This is the "marker" of events yet to come.  How long shall I give it until it comes to be what I saw? Misery does love company and the cocktail contents seem to mix well in a supposed explosive fashion.  However, it would seem that the game is liked as it is being played by both.  Despite that fact, I still maintain it is wrong and misleading.  Then again, I suppose some people just have no conscience while others are cling-ons.  NEED causes such.  Wouldn't this make a deserving scene?  If not, it does make for a dandy game of double usage.  When shall it finally hit the sheets?  Who the fuck knows.  However, that should be a laugh.  Regardless, my progressive wheels shan’t halt, but they can go in another direction: that is what spokes are for. ~ Maggie ~ February 2, 2010 @ 2:00 a.m. EST 

I see a card and that card has been played before.  The card could also be called a “mark” or marker to a past event or an event to come.  Does the use of the card say something in regard to the way the dominos line up?  You bet it does.  I see the card being played in the now for a later use.  I also see use of the same reasoning and for the same reason and both are so wrong and misleading. ~ Maggie ~ November 30, 2009 @ 9:16 p.m. EST

The Act of Doing Nothing...Not posted (until today)

What if I were to cease doing something that I have been doing faithfully?  What would be the result of my action?  Would something change?  What is that something?  Had I not acted in the first place, it would not be what it is.  Then again, what is it?  I don’t know!!!  For the life of me,  I don’t know.

If I had to guess, I would say that had I never acted in the first place, the something of which I know not would not be nor would it have ever been.  If I ceased my current actions, the something of which I know not would cease to be.  What has it been?  Again I don’t know.  Do I have a surety that it would cease to be?  Probability provides that surety providing that I do not load the dice.

If I had to look into the future in regard to that which I know not, what would I see?  Frankly put, I see much of the same without change.  Am I being critical?  No.  I am being truthful.  There are two ways to bring about change.  I have mentioned one.  As for the other, I leave that to myself for further pondering or total abandonment of the *idea(s).

I see a card and that card has been played before.  The card could also be called a “mark” or marker to a past event or an event to come.  Does the use of the card say something in regard to the way the dominos line up?  You bet it does.  I see the card being played in the now for a later use.  I also see use of the same reasoning and for the same reason and both are so wrong and misleading. ~ Maggie ~ November 30, 2009 @ 9:16 p.m. EST

*Feelers were placed in regard to my idea(s) not too long ago and I wrote about it **today, but will not post it just yet.  Hell, I may never post it.  There are three people who are aware of my idea(s), but no one, including myself, knows what I will do.   **Today being 12/14/09.

Exploring Two Quotes~

I have always thought the actions of men the best interpreters of their thoughts. ~John Locke - Never act until you have clearly answered the question: "What happens if I do nothing?" ~Robert Brault

Based on the above quotations, I have generated some thoughts. Regarding John Locke’s quote, I must state that I agree with it to a degree. To expand upon that minimal agreement, I have come up with two scenarios. In the first scenario a human is thinking about something that they want to do. To achieve their end, whatever their end may be, the goal must be thought upon and run in various ways to create the action. The problem I find with the action is that we cannot explore the thoughts themselves in full form. What I mean is that one cannot get into another’s head and experience their processing of information. If we see only the result and we see that result judged as good (What is good?) or bad (What is bad?), how are we truly to interpret their thoughts?

If an average Joe living a simple life grows extra food to help his neighbor, we could see it as good. However, what if Joe has an end that has not yet come to fruition yet? What if Joe wants something from his neighbors that perhaps they would not be willing to give otherwise? How long of a history do we give to a man’s actions before we can say what Joe did was good or bad? How do we interpret their thoughts if the course is not yet full run or full known? Let us say that Joe gives for the rest of his life simply because he wanted to and sought nothing in return. Would Joe’s thoughts be easier to judge in this one specific regard? What if Joe’s neighbor told Joe he knew that Joe was cheating on his wife and they struck a deal for life? What if that tad of information were kept just between them? How then is the action viewed if KNOWN?

In exploring Brault’s quote, I have to mention that “doing nothing” is in fact doing something. It is in itself an action. Say hello to Joe again as I must use the poor pseudo man for my endeavor. Joe has his sights on something which is based on interaction with a group of individuals. Joe has been active within the group for five years, but wants out without having to say why he wants out of the group. The group has a good rapport with each other and is open for the most part. Joe feels that he no longer belongs although he still gets on with the other members. Thus, he has thought up various reasons to leave, but feels that it will create ill will.

When Joe joined the group, it was on the contract that the joining was for life and that those within the group would never part from the whole. Within the past five years, Joe’s views had changed leaving him feeling out of sorts and uncomfortable. He thought about “what happens if I do nothing?” and came to the conclusion that he would remain exactly where he is now by default. Thus, his participation would still be within the group.

Another way to look at this is what if Joe decided that his “doing nothing” would mean not showing up for the meetings, ignoring their calls, and ignoring their house visits. These too are actions, however, is it clearly thought about? No. How long would Joe expect to live with their calling and visits? How would this affect other aspects of his life?

If the ties of the individual are very good despite contract and, respect is a factor of the group/individuals, then it might be in Joe’s interest to calculate each individual’s reaction to his proposal to leave. The “doing nothing” in staying while he thinks, gives him the opportunity to speak to all and perhaps tell the truth in hopes of being respected despite the contract while still maintaining the friendship of the group. This would be an interesting feat.

I guess I could have gone more in depth with this, but my facilities are on the wane. ~ Maggie ~ November 30, 2009 @ 7:42 p.m. EST

Beak Break...

At times I wonder if I am inside the egg trying to get out or if I am outside the egg trying to get in.  What if a break in either direction leads back to here wherever here might be. 

Inside the egg it is dark, but I see things as bright as day and as dark as night.  I see every color in the spectrum and I also see that which I have never seen before.  Of course I speak of my imagination which takes a surreal quality. 

Outside the egg it is both dark and light.  Here too exists every color in the spectrum, but I cannot see per se or possibly could see per se see that which I have never seen before PROVIDING they exist.   Outside the egg imagination can take on a surreal quality, but interference can bust the bubble of the imagination. ~ Maggie ~ November 26, 2009 @ 6:50 p.m. EST

There is not name for this as it was not intended to be posted

THIS BLOG WILL BE REMOVED IN THREE DAYS.

Addendum to this post:  The wheels are in motion and the process has begun.  Granted, the motion is not set to the speed of light, but doors have been opened thus the process is going forward.  I suppose when the thought made it to word, of the verbal kind, it set off the dominos that had been waiting to spill.  The dominos have started to show themselves in their placement of this space/time.  At present they sit well.  The scattergories are being watched as are the portals for opportunity. Welcome goes out to complexity.  I love it!  All is as it should be.  ~ Maggie ~ January 26, 2010 @ 11:09 EST

There is no name for this as it was not intended to be posted

Never Posted...*posted November 25, 2009 @ 6:28 p.m. EST

At times, but not all the time, I am alone in a room which is surrounded by what appears to be televisions.  They are not merely around me in the sense of around (around >adverb  1 located or situated on every side.  2 so as to face in the opposite direction.  3 in or to many places throughout a locality.  4 here and there.  5 available or present.  6 approximately. >preposition  1 on every side of.  2 in or to many places throughout (a locality).  3 so as to encircle or embrace.  4 following an approximately circular route round.), but they also lie below and above me only I do not see me in the literal sense of the word.  From this stand point, I can see various scenarios of a plot run simultaneously.  Like a complex domino setup, the falling of one piece sets off a chain of events that can go in various directions which is in actuality one direction.  A plot does not necessarily equate to one dimension as there are various routes, various obstacles, various levels, and various people and places.  When viewing, account has to be taken as to quickness, efficiency, probability, benefit, consequence, and other effects that may come into play which would require rerouting.  To say that any specific set is viewed as the primary would be a false statement.  I suppose the best way to relay my thought process would be to say that the first move predicts all subsequent moves based on what has been run.  A move from set 45 may best be followed by that which is on set 72, yet when X happens, take from set 6633 and apply it to set 9.  It is not linear to say the least.  However, from the observer's perspective, it is most linear. The only time such occurs is when it is necessary to run such a program.

The program has been running based on several issues, but as I am not the one to make a decision at this point, the running is just for the view.  If called into action, the process will go forward in the best manner possible for the best end.  “Best” is subjective to all those concerned.  Quickness is always sought, but not at the expense of precision.  Even in the case of hardship, the end result could be greater than the duration of said hardship. “Hardship” is also subjective.

Everything depends on how bad someone wants something and to what lengths they would be willing to go to achieve their want.  This applies to me as well as it is MY motivating factor. ~ Maggie ~ November 17, 2009 @ 9:54 p.m. EST

Just Call Me Miss Potato Head - posted for about ½ a day.

Just Call Me Miss Potato Head - posted for about ½ a day.

Yup.  I am a potato.  Yesterday, the words popped out of my mouth after the vision and I laughed.  Of course I shared my words along with my jolly vision.  He did not laugh though.  WTF!  Hell, I can only see what I see and I don't see FUCKING CHANGE.  When there is no change stagnation begins and the water starts to smell.

It is not that possibility is not there for growth, but if potato and soil to do merge, well then there is a problem.  I see a problem for which my hands are tied by that of another.  Go ahead and keep your door closed and don't allow the vampire in.  I know that I can handle it, but I don't think you can handle it.  Hell, maybe you don't want to.  Shit happens mang.  We are cool. ~ Maggie ~ November 24, 2009 @ 12:55 a.m. EST

My Love - Nov. 23, 2009 @ 4:51 a.m. EST

Ideas of idealism circulate and navigate through all known passages of experience. Not lost for a moment in time nor space. Keenly I focus on that which I desire: a desire that I willingly cling to. With a full heart, I realize that ideas and ideal situations are not just limited to the mind's compass.

In exploration of ideas, one can readily find that which started as an idea or ideal (in suitable form) and manifested itself when its point in time had come for it to manifest. Perhaps if we look to the stars we may note there is a time for all things. It is possible that certain situations do not present themselves as ideal for the moment, but the idea remains and the reality of the manifestation is plausible when the situational constructs offer a different and workable variable.

To the reader this may not seem poetic nor romantic. However, it is what it is. My heart is my own to feel as it does. This expression is but that: an expression of that which I hold back in words, but not in deeds. ~ Maggie


How do I love thee... 

Although I use the words of another, I do so by choice as the poem is a favorite of mine and it goes out to someone I love (in a romantic way). To write what I dream in that regard cannot be performed at this time for the words escape me as the visions are simply visions (dreams). However, with vision comes life and possibilities (the manifestation).

As with all things I look toward the positive aspects of the situation(s) as there is a bright side to all things. Yes. Even those things that which we feel are hopeless. There is hope and there is always knowledge gained even if not loved in return. Hell, love is not about hoping for a return of love. Love is the act of loving. It is by this act which makes love so selfless and thus not selfish. ~ Maggie

HOW DO I LOVE THEE?

How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.
I love thee to the depth and breadth and height
My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight
For the ends of being and ideal grace.
I love thee to the level of every day's
Most quiet need, by sun and candle-light.
I love thee freely, as men strive for right.
I love thee purely, as they turn from praise.
I love thee with the passion put to use
In my old griefs, and with my childhood's faith.
I love thee with a love I seemed to lose
With my lost saints. I love thee with the breath,
Smiles, tears, of all my life; and, if God choose,
I shall but love thee better after death.

-- Elizabeth Barrett Browning

This Life...

This life has been amazing thus far even with all the lumps and bumps that I have hit.  Yet I feel that I have something to do.  It is not a matter of a single thing as nothing is really singular as each event connects to many things and many people.

Much is going on right now and I feel rather like taffy being pulled in many directions.  Any and all actions/reactions or lack thereof will bear consequences and benefits.  At this crossroad the spokes are before me, but I know not which way to walk.

Many thoughts are being pondered and of course the best path will be chosen, then again, how will I know if it is the best path indeed?  The idea of returning to school has been on my mind as of late, but will it be as it was several years back when I had started to write my master’s proposal only to leave it as it was not quite what I wanted?  The idea of a master’s in education (social studies), was not all that appealing nor is it appealing today.

Loved ones are also on my mind in a deep way that I cannot even begin to define.  If only the definitions were simple complexities such as schematics would pose when dealing on multiple levels, the interconnected design effect would be much more visible than that which I hold in abstraction.  To say that I do not see within the abstraction would be false, but at the same time, I really cannot define the contents in concrete form.  Air holds much.

A beautifully painted wooden stallion glides gracefully up and down while going round and round.  Each time I approach a certain point, I eye the brass ring and a reach is presented.  To date, I cannot say how many rings I have collected nor can I say how many more I will collect, but ride I shall on my stallion forever reaching...

Saline solution is bottled and sold
Some are labeled joy
Some are labeled sorrow
Some are labeled pain
Some are labeled laughter
Some are labeled tired
And some bear dual or multiple labels
All in all they are but tears

It is odd how we produce a single product via various reasons.  The bottle that bears the dual label joy and sorrow would not bear a distinguishable taste from one another.  Tears are not like foodstuffs that a taster can say this particular food seems to contain the following ingredients that make the product one.  The tasting of the tears would not tell the taster which is which unless he or she filled the bottle themselves.  Only they, upon the tasting, can reflect back and recall the scenario.  An example of joy and sorrow could be the tears of sorrow at losing a loved one while at the same time, the experience of fond memories fills their orbits with tears of joy.  This memory can branch off as well and produce tears of laughter as the joy of remembrance strikes a chord of an event which could even cause a belly laugh. ~ Maggie ~ November 16, 2009 @ 6:37 p.m. EST

The Ability To Travel...

To someone watching a body seated in a tranquil state may assume the individual to be there resting their body and their eyes.  Yet what the viewer fails to see is that the individual being viewed is not really there seated before them.
  
I cannot say that I know what other writers or artists see or feel nor shall I assume.  However, from my own perceptive, I go to another place even if my eyes are open.  It may start as a single image and from that single image a story develops not from my intent to write it, but from something else.  Sometimes during a discussion, I note a topic and before I know it, I have a short story.  Again, I have to see it.

In the phase of the view overlay, what is solid before me disappears and is replaced by something else.  Often I type with my eyes closed so that I am better able to catch most of what I see.  I could say the same about drawing.  It is not a matter of “hey, I am going to go write or draw now.”  It calls upon me and not I upon it.  To me, I am neither a writer nor an artist in the sense that those are my labels, but more so that I can do these things.

Right now I wish to travel to another time and space to see what else lies beyond my anatomical.  If only I could go beyond that which I can call up upon a moment’s notice.  Do you travel into your own past and see it, smell it, and feel it?  It is so easy to do that, but at the moment, too mundane for me to attempt.  Fantasy can be created from what is known based on prior knowledge, but that too would be a mundane endeavor right now.

If only I could go back to the sea of the snail!  I do remember it and can envision it again from memory, but I want to see past the translucent tower to see what lies beyond it.  In this place I can move between the solid or seemingly so into the sky in which I see massive birds of many colors that only glide.  It is the place of seafoam green seas that do not follow what we view as natural wave patterns and in which the sky is purple without a sun.  Here, the people need for nothing and seem content.  Here, there is no land in sight.  It is a place where I do not know what I am yet I am not alone as I am being guided while awake and sitting in my chair. ~ Maggie ~ November 16, 2009 @ 4:24 p.m. EST

Addendum: Perhaps it would be worth investing in a tape recorder as so much is lost when flying.

Thoughts of the day...

Thoughts of the day...sometime in November 2009 the placement is about right in sequence.  Me thinks it was written on the same day as Just Call Me Miss Potato Head.

It would seem that my words are met with blocks.  Participation is not had for the most part.  I feel that what I say is not understood or cannot be dealt with for various reasons at most times.  Most being 99.99%  I question if he understands me at all.  Ah, for fuck’s sake!  Give me a cement wall and let me bang my head so that I might penetrate it if nothing else.

It is not about me.  No.  It is about him.  I gather that in full.  And although love is given on my part, I sometimes want to say FUCK IT!!!  What holds me back?  Will it be more than it is?  For this I question.  I have placed offers, but yet the door does not swing the other way.  That is fine as that is free will.  I have gone so far as to see if other men would accept my terms and the answer is no. (Post Script the men questioned would not be willing to allow for polyamory.) 

Brain Cleansing ~

After a day of mind stimulating information, Meena spoke to a friend of hers who opened to the door to the idea of brain cleansing. She pondered the notion for a tad and felt rather glum after speaking with him. "Is the glum catchy?" She wondered. Here she was all hyper on information, only to be met by a stone wall of glum.

Perhaps she should wash her brain as others had done. She had seen how on the television commercials, billboards, and news casts, that most people of the world were into washing their brain by their bedside much as she had seen her grandmother wash her teeth.

Up to this point, Meena had thought her brain to be clean, but between her friends and the commercials, they were tempting her to be like them. This promoted her reason to visit the local mega-pharmacy to buy the brain agent that would render her cleansed and like almost everyone else.

A gent of sheepish nature greeted her at the door with the blankest of looks. When she asked him where she could find the brain cleansing solution, all he could do was to look at his feet. Having a mind of her own and the will to seek this agent out, she stormed through all the isles until she found what she was looking for. Within the corner of the store, and taking approximately one quarter of the store’s space, were the boxes of the cleansing agent.

She thought it odd that it was such a big box as she believed it to be in pill form much like a vitamin. At the very least, she assumed it would be no larger than a shampoo bottle in which the contents would soak into her head while in the shower. It was her belief that the ad of a brain in a jar beside the bed was nothing more than a part of a humorous ad campaign.

Without further ado, she picked up the box without reading the label and marched on home with the contents in hand. Although she grumbled a great deal on the way home, she thought it in her best interest to do the cleansing.

Around dinner time, she decided to unbag the contents and read the instructions. Much to her amazement, the brain cleansing solution was to be emptied into the enclosed jar along with water. As her brain was to follow, she refused to read the rest. “How could this be?” she thought to herself. Thinking that the ads and her friend’s “pooh” (using the word most literally) about it were nonsense, she chucked the whole lot of it and went back to absorbing information.

Within two hours of her arriving home from the mega-pharmacy, there came a knock at her door. Not being accustomed to unannounced visitors, she did not answer the door. The knocking then became louder and louder until she heard her door give way to whomever was on the other side.

She had enough time to hide herself in the upstairs closet. Nevertheless, she could hear them walking around her house and talking amongst themselves and then climbing the stairs. Surrounded by nothing more than some dresses, tops, some skirts, and plastic hangers, the only thing she had going for her were the use of her wits and her own physical ability against those who had violated her domain.

Not before long, the closet doors flew open and standing before her were several men in lab coats and several armed guards. Armed with her plastic hanger, Meena questioned their break-in and wanted to know what they wanted. Much to her horror, they advised her that they had come to remove her brain for cleansing. Although she stated that she had discarded the box and contents as she thought it either a sick joke or mislabeling, the men in the white coats assured her that it was not a joke. By purchasing the product, she had consented to brain removal and cleansing. The two armed individuals, whose faces were covered by ski masks, grabbed her out of the closet while one man in a lab coat injected her arm with something that made her feel weak and sleepy.

Meena woke to the sound of a buzzer going off. As she rose out of her bed she blankly looked at the jar and its contents that sat beside her bed and thought nothing of it.

~ Arachne ~ 10/23/09 @ 6:16 p.m. EST

The Dust~

The walk was an uneasy one, but my curiosity would not abate.  Too many stories were being told of this and that and I needed to know if what they said was true.  It had come to my knowledge that one room was not to be entered, however, the key, with its rather heavy chain, was given to me for safekeeping.

The room in question was and is located on the top floor or attic of an old house.  Unfortunately, there was no windows nor electricity to make out very much save for the small amount of light that flowed from the lower floor.  With an adjustment to darkness, I could see a hallway, a sconce, and a door.

Seemingly like forever, I had walked this dusty floor of another time and contemplated and debated opening that which they told me not to.  This scenario reminded me of Eve and the Tree of Knowledge or of that of a child left alone in a room with a toy they were told not to touch.  Ah, the gravity of it all.

Pace I did with the key dangling behind my back while my two hands fiddled with the solidity of its chain.  What could lay here that would thwart the opening of a door?  What contents could lie within?  Shall I be like Pandora?  Reaching for my match, I ignite the tiny timber and engage the sconce with light and head to the door.  Eager as a beaver to build a dam, I headed toward the door and held the knob in one hand while my other hand busied itself inserting the key into the key portal.  I met no resistance to its turn.

Ah, the feeling of a child at Christmas opening a present, however, as I knew not what to expect behind the door, there was a tad of caution.  The agreement of mind had it that this is not Christmas nor was this room a gift.

The door now laid unlocked before me and all I had to do was turn the knob and push.  I had been waiting for this.  This is what I wanted and it was right in front of me.  Slowly the door opened and the musty odor escaped only to assault and insult my nostrils and lungs with its repugnancy.  The small sconce within the hall did not offer much rays into that which was slowly being opened.  Upon the threshold, the creaking boards broke the silence so loudly that each step resonated what sounded like a house screaming in pain.  Yes, I the inquisitor heard the scream-like reverberations of an empty room.

With the door now wide open, I stood within the confines of the space and was dismayed at my discovery.  For all my curiosity, pondering, and pacing, the room laid as empty as my ears had told me.  If something were here, it was not big nor visible from where I was standing, then again, the room was shaped like a “U” and thus the only way to find anything would be through feeling it out on all fours.  Hell, I had come this far only to have to choose which side of the room I would feel first.  I suppose I could have played eenie meanie miney moe, but the game spirit was not within.  Choose the left is what I did as I scattered my body weight over the floor and sniffed around like a dog looking for a buried bone. That is the last thing I remember.

As if awoken from a dream, I heard voices and noted that everything had become dark.  From my point of view, there was no door to be seen and no issuance of light even if ever so dim from the lower floor.  Then again, who were the people in my house?  Thinking quickly, I figured if I can hear them, they too can hear me.  With all I could muster, I banged with hands and feet and my voice roared for them to find me.  When I heard someone approaching the top steps, joy filled me and I was pleased that someone was in fact there.   “IN HERE” I yelled, but another voice, a familiar voice from below yelled out “Child, get away from those stairs!  You were told never to go up there.  Now bring that key back to me.”

Tragically, the scolded child was I.  ~ Maggie ~ October 19, 2009 @ 11:10 p.m. EST 

On the morning of the 4th in the year of here
A rain cloud exploded and tore river banks

Intangible Substance~

I sit here and ponder life in the area of have and want.  First I look at what I have.  Despite the fact that material is rather like a ball and chain, some of it serves a function.  As for the rest, I look upon it and think that I could do without much of this as I do not see substantial benefit(s).  Second I look at what I want.  What I want is intangible.  Therefore, how do I gain it? Do I already have it in some regard?  The answer is yes.  So now what?

Let your mind swim to that which encompasses it-- the all the nothing of the seamless patterns that seem like one--stretch of the imagination grasping headlong into what appears an abyss but not--where are you?

One twist can change much.  One twist can alter patterns forever shifting them in a domino dimension.  Falling and hurling at the speed of light.

What do I want?  I don’t know.  Perhaps it is the cake that I want to have and eat it too.  I can’t say for sure, but then again maybe I can.  Questions.  Here lies the builder of the future...my future.

I do eye the schematics of what is and what could be and I realize that no decision is a decision by default.  Ah, but the play...the characters who act out the roles in idealized form.  I am but one.  What is one's role?  One's role touches many and hence we are the dominos.  A twist from one will affect the many.

There are scenarios constantly running and the point is to be on top.  Losing a game does not equate to a fall from the top.  To this I realize and continue on. ~ Maggie ~ October 13, 2009 @ 4:23 p.m. EST

Days~

Shall I start with once upon a midnight dreary?
In a sleep but not playing that which I knew not
Left for a bit only to be led to bed
On a memory not, but yes to a particular aspect
Words light and bring forth what should not be forgotten
Can I say that parks at dark are better than the day?
Nay and yea
I see an anchored soul struck and stuck to a vision only to play
Yet upon the drag
An awakening occurred
Odd steps and lost time oft wondered where have they gone...
Here they be in the majestic told to I who listens...
Singing and humming doing 75
Memory serves me right
The memory of the tranquil almost liquid peace
The kind of peace that brings forth song and poetry
It has been a time of good
What effects have transpired have done so in form
Good form!
To the negative I see the positive and there is love
That all important factor lest it not be forgotten
Mixed are these memories of this time spent
However, is the chronology important?
Nay
All is well on this day and the next
Yesterday's memories that are held in tact are cherished
Tomorrow sees me gone
However, I again arrive at pi ~ Maggie ~ 10/1/09 @ 5:20 p.m. EST


If only the words that I spewed in thought and vocalization could be laid here to rest. Laid upon parchment more so that the pendulum could hold what I verbalized. The escape of literature happens when ideas cannot be lassoed with the pen. Alas, perhaps I shall find them again in their right sphere and commit them. Until then, I leave what scattered thoughts mislaid yet portrayed in random form. Should the same words that were thought upon broach my mind, I shall relay them surely in kind. Life is sometimes bittersweet. I shall unfold that which I hold when and if they return to me in the original fashion. ~ Maggie ~ 10/1/09 @ 5:27 p.m. EST

Poke Her ~

Would you push my hand to see my cards?
The way to do this is to call and/or raise me
Could you be certain of my reaction?
Might I choose to fold, you would win, but what would you win?
Should I choose to play it out, and I have a winning hand, what then?  You would lose.
Should I choose to call and/or raise you, would you have the confidence to think I bluff?
These are but possibilities in poker.
Care for a round of duces and jacks the man with the ax
A pair of natural sevens beats all?
What about day or night baseball?
Follow the queen? Queen of spades kills the hand while others make the next card wild unless otherwise said?  Choice given as to up or down on last card to create a possible change?
Seven card stud?
Jacks or better to open?
Five card stud?
Five card duces wild?  Even seven card works.
Of course one cannot know how one is going to play until the game is called
Even when the game is called each play is different as is each hand
Of course a player with some experience can make a good judgment call,
It may not be a correct call
Who knows what the cards hold
Then it is a matter of choice as to how to handle that which you are dealt
What I am trying to say is that you don’t know what to do until you come to that “bridge”
I do enjoy a good game don’t you? ~ Arachne ~ October 9, 2009 @ 2:36 p.m. EST

Exit The Visuals Please~

The ew feeling is sticking to me like white on rice as the pictures spin through my head posing possibilities.  I am grossed out by both fact and fiction and wish the scenarios to die.  It sucks being visual.  Oh my gosh take my head off please as I don’t want to see anymore!

Even the hypothetical brings me to the point of chasing my tail as my reaction is one of spinning knowing that the bottle will stop somewhere, but where?  It is like laying belly down on a swing and twirling the swing tight only to spin and then when stationary, your eyes are still moving back and forth.  That too sickens me.  Like all sicknesses, save for a few, you become immune and eventually your eyes return to normal.  Regardless, I will end up on top as usual.  For that I have no question.  Trust me,  I do take things in the right stride and in the end all will be fine even if different.  What is different?  Well it would depend on where the bottle stops now wouldn’t it?  This is all hypothetical now isn’t it?  Um...for now it is.

Thinking like a rat, there is always a back door(s), hall(s), and/or window(s) in which to exit.  To these, I hold sacred that which creates the positive for me.  To this I know I can jump. ~ Maggie ~ October 9, 2009 @ 1:18 a.m. EST

Phase Shift~

Observing from a wire
That which transpires
See not that which was, but that which is
Pattern broken or perhaps not broken
Looking to see who stays or strays
Observations...
Who are you I ask myself
You who is just like me
You are me and I am you...
You see?
The lessening of a pattern
Whose design now has holes
Is it so much what I see or that which I do not?
All to see behold!
Does in fact the residue impact?
Visuals indicate aye ~ Maggie ~ October 8, 2009 @ 7:45 p.m. EST

It is not important that you understand what I speak about as I do not write for you.

Life~

To say that I do not feel any emotion or sense sensation would deprive me of who I am.  Despite some pitfalls, of which only I am to blame, I tend to surface like cream with all things being equal.

The joy of life includes any down cycle as that is what makes one appreciate an up cycle.  A down cycle could be a sad thought (or worse) based on a current instance(s) or set of circumstances or that of one (or many) which happened some time ago.  Nonetheless, there is a joy connected to it.  A joy that has either made us stronger for experience of it all or one that has attached a moment of something great be it an event, an object, or a subject.

If looking at negative aspects only, one would be a negative being and thus live in misery.  When looking at positive aspects of negative events or cycles, there is reward.

No one lives the life of peaches and cream even if some would like to think so or to think others do so.  This cannot be.  The benefit in life is learning through our trials and errors and sometimes our own foolery.  To this life there is the benefit in the knowledge gained on any level. ~ Maggie ~ October 8, 2009 @ 7:35 p.m. EST 

Addiction~

How can I start this out?  Is anyone here familiar with Mafia Wars on Facebook or any other game applications?  If so, pay heed to those that play.  What else do they have on their site save for posts to do with the game(s)?  It is not only this mindless game, but many mindless games.  I plea guilty for having played and I also plea guilty for getting too caught up in it.  When doing a scope of those that also played and at what level they were playing at, I had to wonder what else do they do?  Was this an all encompassing activity for them?  I would say that for me, my last days on it were almost all encompassed by the game.  Communication had almost stopped, but at least I had the lectures running in the background and I would read things of a non-mindless nature when waiting for energy.  Oh me oh my!  Why?  Addiction!

I can’t say that I was all engulfed as I did not really pay attention to things in there as to me it was a come what may situation.  Nonetheless, I was on it and not doing the things that I normally do to the fullest degree that I do them.  Hence the self suffered.  In addition, I saw the suffering of others.  How you may ask?  The view of it all.  The staggering numbers, the emission of only game related posts, and lack of thought.

One person was kind enough to tell me why they played.  He stated he played out of boredom and loneliness.  If that is why he is playing, I must question if the others have similar reasons.  Unfortunately, I can only use assumption at this point, but I would bet the farm, that my assumption is close to fact.  The knowledge came about because I was leaving the game as I saw it as problematic.  All the things that I had acquired in one application were given to those who played with me.  To this I felt like I was giving junk to junkies and helping to feed their habit.  It is rather sad.  Thankfully, I am off the three applications that I was on and have removed all but a few of those friends from my friends list.  First, I feel as though I was using them to gain something, second I feel as though they were using me to gain something.  Fair trade right?  Right.  However, none of it was real.  Perhaps, this knowledge is not worth much, but it is worth the lesson learned. ~ Maggie ~ October 8, 2009 @ 2:51 a.m. EST

A Stumble~

This *stumble (see the Stumbled Upon site) was just that. A stumble over my own feet as I wanted to explore something a lecturer had said. It is not enough just to hear the words, but more so to seek further upon them. Lucky me that I should end up here. There are some things that I would not want to share for fear of those having a weak stomach or to point said to have myself removed for violation of showing truth of the horrors committed on this earth. Sure I can look upon them in curiosity and say "why did he/she die so?" as I ponder the corpse or parts of it on a still bloodied street. A mind is a terrible thing to waste so I ponder on all avenues and in all avenues that my feet may fall upon. Thankfully, this was a lovely one. ~ Maggie ~ September 25, 2009 @ 3:01 a.m. EST

The "Stumbled" and discovered site:  http://in.answers.yahoo.com/question/index?qid=20070421170720AAtFRSg Based on a lecture given at: http://www.academicearth.org/lectures/how-to-live-given-certainty-of-death

The Dance

Stationary are we in a room of black
Slowly
Surely
A sconce is lit
Then two
Then four
Peering are we to the four corners
Whose light of fire appears dancing in apparent space
Nothing below or above
No light save for the four torches
I speak and you catch me
En garde!  Touche!
You are right this night
In this regard
I don’t want to change you
To this I admit touche!
Yet, be it known, I too am me and will always be
A practitioner all my own
Shall we dance kind Sir?
The harvest approaches and we only reap what we have sown ~ Maggie ~ September 17, 2009 @ 1:13 a.m. EST

I Say~

Graced with patience and guided with balance
Words thus far gently escorted to ears
Gently I say.  Aye.  With understanding of my doing
Holding back with bridle of my own doing yet again
Words are weapons and are more mighty than a sword!
I have yet to leave understanding of where toes lie in shoes
Dance gracefully.  Gracefully I say!
I watch with abstract precision
Gathering, but not with glee
Oh, patience whence forth you give out?
One can play games of childish and childlike fashion
When being a child!
Make room for that which is embedded in us all
Parent, Adult, and Child (Transactional Analysis (TA))
Parent to Child/Child to Parent does work
Parent to Parent does not
Child to Adult/Adult to Child does not work
Adult to Adult is best
Do I remember it?
The Adult embodies all three...TRI...TRY (Neuro-Linguistic Programming (NLP))
Communication is fundamental

Sometimes it is about what we say.  Sometimes it is about what we do not say.  Sometimes it is how we say something.  Sometimes it is how something is not said. ~ Maggie ~ September 16, 2009 @ 11:13 p.m. EST

Combination Numbers~

9-9-09 bearing on course to change
Behavior not
See me as I was
I saw me today

The notion of change to certain aspects simply revolve
Revolution back to the round image
Perhaps not so sound in past
Image is imaginary at best

What is gained by investigation
The mirror screams when not seen
The mirror that isn’t

Patterns

The snowball rolls up the hill only to find itself small again
Hey you!  I know you.  I saw you before at another time...
From whence the fires roared
Went into tranquil

I saw the woman who tried to run over the man
At another time she shut her mouth
She slumbered numb and dumb

“I see” said the blind man!
When it was too late
Eyes picked clean by a raven

Dance gently and sweetly
Watch the toes for reflexes in other regions
As a monster can and does lie within

Take your drugs man!
Nay!  Detox yourself
“KNOW THYSELF”

I reckon I recognize a behavior and why such was performed.  Sickly was the thought and the understanding of such.  Then again, it was the truth.  My truth.  The shame of it all.  All this for what?  ~ Maggie ~ a/k/a MAX ~ 9/9/09 @ 8:32 p.m. EST

Death Of A Hornet~

In the warmth of today’s gleaming sun, I had removed my jacket to absorb the heat and to read Nicholaus Copernicus’ On the Revolutions of Heavenly Spheres.  As is NOT my usual practice, I brought my covered thermo-insulated  coffee cup outside with me.  There upon the table it sat as I drank away the java which took several hours.

When just sipping upon some Joe at home and all alone or with a chosen crew, I drink it rather fast and surely while it is warm.  Yet in the warmth upon this day, I drank so slowly and sipped away in a lady-like fashion with pinky on display!  Upon the emptying of the cup through my final sip, I went inside to refill said cup and thus scooped up my thermos.  Upon opening both to commit my task, I filled my cup to brim.  Oh!  Upon the filling be there a hornet floating in my cup!  As the refill was performed within the confines of a structure, I hastened my behind to the great outdoors with hornet on paper to attempt to probe it to life.  Yes.  I had removed the darling and placed it on paper in an attempt to revive it.  My fingers lying on either side of it in hope of movement.

Previously...The words “KILL IT” coming from another did not leave me smiling since the poor create surely looked dead.  Nay to my killing it.  Unfortunately, the poor little darling did not come back and, at present, its little corpse lies upon my table.  I did continue to sip my coffee as I found no problem in doing so.

As it is but the shell of the being, I shall hold steadfast to it until I can gain another microscope.  I believe I gave my old one to my daughter. ~ Maggie ~ a/k/a Arachne ~ 9/9/09 @ 7:40 p.m. EST

Pondering the notion of a mind on vacation...

What would happen if I stopped thinking as much as I do?  What would life be like?  Would I get bored?  Hell, I suppose that I would not talk to myself at that point nor would I laugh out loud or run experiments using third eye visuals and hand movements.  Nope.  Probably not as my mind would be on vacation.  What would I do with all that free time that I would then be paying attention to? (Imagine watching the second hand on a face clock going round and round ticking louder and louder while observing the motion and nothing more.  There would not even be thought as to what are the mechanics that move the arms.  Meh!)  What if I could not read or explore things within myself, others, and the world around me?  What if I could not play connect the dots with the information that I gather?  Where would I be?  Who would I be?  Would I be?  Hum...  I would not be me that is for sure.

In summery, I would probably be bored.  Me thinks I would not like that.  Sure I am alone and may be viewed as eccentric, but all in all, I am not lonely.  I am not bored.  Hell, I have to take pills to shut off the chatter and the visuals that occur out of “poof” that either generate art, words, or research.  The more I absorb, the more I question.  These questions push me to learn more and connect the dots for no specific purpose save that I CAN.  I don’t want to be anything but me when I grow up so, learning is FUNdamental for the sheer hell of it.  Yup! 
                  
Silly me finds beauty in bugs, sky, tall grass, and creative individuals.  I find beauty in exploring human behavior including my own.  Even dead things are interesting.  To some rain may be viewed as a damper, but I am like a duck and love being in it.

Okay, so maybe to you I seem strange, however, as strange as I may seem, I would like to place you (whomever views me as strange) under microscopic observation and explore your strangeness.  I am sure you have your own set of idiosyncracies as well as thoughts and values that could have major holes blown through them by YOU after we have had time to explore YOU.  Your blowing holes though me will be equally enjoyed.

My mind is staying put. ~ Maggie ~ September 6, 2009 @ 9:16 p.m. EST

The Holder of the Key

Skeletons are some whose doors are old and not guarded with well rounded locks
Keyed to open gates that wait but naught thought
Novem dost come about in the nine as now
But ponder I do the outcome

Guarded not upon a chain
Lost to time now and again
Tears that flowed were not in vain
As vanity does no good

Yet when all is said and done
The midnight skies do see the sun
Wars not lost and battles won
Will you think of me?

Gaze upon the key you see
Do look past to the teeth that be
Open the lock of eagle three
The art of communication

Sitting by the windowpane
I hope not for “November Rain”
Metal out not to feel the pain
Will you remember me?

What is is and
What will be will be
I leave it to chance
And wish upon three... ~ Maggie ~ September 3, 2009 @ 2:55 a.m. EST

Upon One Eve When The Clouds Parted~

Black velvet sky neigh/nay
Lay void
Curtains pulled back
Pillow cluster cloud dance
Twinkle and sprinkle delight
White Knight of Lady
Avow to glow
Radiant bright
Sight not seen without the spiral
Spin down to touch that which lay a ground–not bound
Fingers held in point to visions of diamonds bright
Shine!  Oh, shine on night
My Knight
Pull thy curtains back
Dance upon me...
My hand extended touches not the physical realm
Yet we connect through the cord which hath been laid
Aye!  Prayed upon in a wish
Upon one eve when the clouds parted ~ Maggie ~ Penned August 25, 2009 @ approximately 9:40 p.m. EST

Vibrations

Odd as it may sound, a vibration can be felt like that of which a spider feels upon the landing of prey.  Pray tell it is not of flying insects that I speak.  Nay!  I speak of that which alters in pattern (such as a wave or frequency (frequency has several definitions)).  A quiet web will lie still until such time as the lady in waiting, who does not observe the land, but rather feels the waves its prey makes and knows its present location based on said feel.  She then goes forthright to the site of disturbance having never seen her mark.  Sometimes not viewing things with the anatomical is best.  A break in the still indicates activity at a specific location.  This condition also works in reverse.  Think about it.    

If one were to vibrate something steadily, and the vibration created a specific pattern of recognition be it auditory or visual, the senses can probably note a difference if cued to that specific frequency.  What does it pay to observe with any of one’s senses?  Why nothing save for information for future calculation.  The information can then be used to predict or lay odds for or against this or that.  Spiders eat don’t they?  They also wrap that which they will not sup on immediately.  I call that storage.

What do I speak of?  Perhaps I speak of nothing.  What do YOU think? I do like BeeF Skinner don't you? lol ~ Maggie ~ August 17, 2009 @ 7:13 p.m. EST

Blackheart~

Darkened is that which in my veins lie
Arterial dribs of that which can’t die
Color and numbers
And what is and what’s not
Bring me about to this very spot

Nay to color of fiery red
No romantic endeavor
The flowers are dead
No beating is had
No pumping is done
The blackheart lives in the evil one
What is evil she asks of thee?
When one and one are equal three
Tri as I do
Tri as I are
Blackheart with vision a bloodless star ~ Maggie ~ sometime during August 16, 2009 in the p.m.

Thanks Philippe!

Seeking ONE

Be thee close to me
I know not of you
Show me

ONE - NEO
The loops that form the one
One not as in monad, but as in O in form
Whole and wholehearted
Close to me and open

Open to acceptance
Open to words
Open to peace and sharing

Close to body
Close to heart
Close to mind

Not closed in any manner
Not distant in any manner
Opportunity is mine said she
The wheel now presents its spokes
Pi will been transcended

I expect nothing and will receive everything I expect
Nothing is not nothing: nothing is always something ~ Maggie ~ August 10, 2009 @ 5:37 p.m. EST

Today (which is now officially yesterday)...

Today was full of humor as the hornets were buzzing about.  I do talk to them and they don’t scare me nor do they bother me.  One just has to be cool with them.  I did not understand why he kept running from them.  Another person also told him, the hornet probably likes you.  Then again, I talk to spiders and to myself.  Am I odd?  Perhaps to you, but to me I am just fine.

Today was Rat and Hamster day.  Rat and Hamster went to Hong Kong (take it as you will) ate some good food and talked about much.  We yackked so much (not to be confused with the animal called a yak), we did not see time fly. Nope, no clock sprouted wings.

Upon the exit, we looked in the window of a local shop and then went inside and were ourselves (rather comic or annoying based on perspective).  There we met Anthony and his sister Shan.  This brother and sister team were also jokesters and could relate to mine and Hammy’s behavior.  Actually, they rather joined in.  All in all it was amusing, but my cheap self was not amused at paying the full rate at the parking lot as we had overstayed our max time.

Although we had a quiet time riding home, when some soup was dropped off to a friend of mine, Hamster had to go touch that XM dial and blast some wild hillbilly music (probably from one of my mom’s favorite stations).  Anyway, as I exist the building I break into jig with flapping arms only to hear her roar of laughter to the point of snorts, crying, and lack of breath.  I joined her in this endeavor all the way to my mom's.  Hell, I think her laughter scared away my mom’s porch guest.  She was wild eyed and cracking up while looking at him.  Oh man that could be scary!  Life is a bowel of cherries!  Hey, this kind of laughing reminds me of "ORANGE SODA" only I was laughing at her BELIEF to the point I was not breathing while driving save for AHHHH then sucked in silence.

Okay so dogs bark and trees have bark
And a bark could be worse than a bite
Or you could be barking up the wrong tree
Trees also have leaves that leave in the fall
Sure they all fall, but some flee with the wind
While fleas on dogs don’t cause them bark
A lark will fly or sing, but could also be joke
Don’t choke!  Yes, pull the choke and let’s be gone! ~ Maggie ~ August 9, 2009 @ sometime before this actually posted.  I was having such a cracker of a time discussing drawers and bloomers.  LMAO

*ADDENDUM ON DRAWERS AND BLOOMERS:  When using Webster's versus Oxford University Press Dictionaries, you will note a difference in the performance of that which is online.  Luckily when questions arise about my terms in language, my Corel WordPerfect saves the day.  Yes.  WordPerfect comes with the Oxford University Press Dictionary.  Whoot.  I don't use Microsoft Word, but I can.  Can anyone tell me if it comes with a dictionary, thesaurus, grammatik (which includes analysis of writing as well as your choice of checking styles from student to technical or scientific?)  Can Microsoft Word read other programs or write in them?  Microsoft Word holds hands with Excel right?  Corel Office has Quattro Pro.  The benefit of using Corel is that it can open Microsoft, but Microsoft cannot open Corel.  WORDPERFECT OFFICE X4 (and earlier) give choices.

Word Processing:  WordPerfect Mode, Microsoft Word Mode, WordPerfect Classic Mode (v. 5.1), and WordPerfect Legal Mode.  By the way, I am not saying that the person I was IMing was using Word nor am I stating that I analyze all my writing.  :-)

Spreadsheet:  Quattro Pro Mode, Microsoft Excel Mode, Lotus 1-2-3 Mode

Does anyone remember Wang?  Ah, I am just throwing this out here as a mere question.  Bah.

Unicode and IPA

If you have already taken two or more mandatory courses in this subject as I have, tell me, what value could be placed on it?  Why was it mandatory?  How often is it used?  Look where testing takes place.  I ask, because what I feel the course was meant for was not only programming of the code within the individual, but programming of the standardized speech that came along with it.  Looking to sound like you come from nowhere in particular as they wipe out your accent.  Also, I noted on July 2, 2007 the IPA code was used behind UNICODE for The United Nations Declaration of Human Rights.  If you know the answer, please advise me.  From what I was told by my professor at the time, the code was a method to communicate with anyone globally providing you and they could write the code based on sound.  Although this Certificate of Proficiency will be issued if one passes, what then?  To what end will it be used?  I ask you to give me your opinion.  Again, I ask why were these courses mandatory for those attending Pace University, NY - One Pace Plaza, NYC? Who the hell really uses this shit? ~ Maggie ~ 8/8/09 @ 9:33 p.m. EST   http://www.langsci.ucl.ac.uk/ipa/index.html

STAY AWHILE~

*On the morrow, this piece returns to it's original place in time.  The shadow of the words below shall remain in tact as will these. ~ Maggie ~ August 5, 2009 @ 7:51 p.m. EST

On occasion I do re-post works that I have done at earlier times, however, on this occasion, I am just recasting the original words without having ever removed them.  You only see it as posted NOW.  Actually, I have modified only the POST DATE without it ever really having moved.  These two paragraphs are but an addendum.

Time is what one makes it.  Is time observed by me in this supposed now?  Has anything changed?  Nay.  Tis but pi and offered yet again.  Could we view this offer as a contract?  Why certainly.  Once an offer has been made, AND the offer has been DECLINED, the offer need never be made again.  It should be noted that inaction is an action by default and CAN BE acknowledged as a declination.  As I have never rescinded the offer, my inaction/action is also default in nature.  Contract law is interesting and can come in handy when dealing with the Amish.  *smirk ~ Maggie ~ Saturday, August 1, 2009 @ 7:15 p.m. EST

STAY AWHILE~

Grey swells adorn the horizon and sprinkle lightly upon the earth
The roar of thunder is heard in the distance whilst I seek the crash of light
Alas, only the roar is heard
Cool are the drops that I grasp
Escaping though tightly clenched fingers as gravity has its way
East, west, north, and south there is no sight of blue
Ah, but the green! The green is seen
Lush and glorious
Intoxicating the nostrils with every breath
Eyes closed dismiss the unnatural sounds making way to silence undisturbed
Journeys need not be made via transport of the usual kind
Nay! My mind takes me where I choose
Light the skies oh nature's form
The bolts of the gods fly mighty
The land and sea take fancy to the storm
As life twirls about in ecstasy
Driven sideways, air has it way with water

Weary traveler, take thy time with thy hostess
Let she sup with thee
Thy cup emptied shall be filled ten fold
And thy plate engorged
Tis mine the fancy to fulfill thee
Where dost thou roam on lonely roads
Whose only avenue is a new fork or cross
Where dost decision play in thy mind?
To what end is your journey?
Stay awhile
My hand wands and waves the quarters assuring the share
Shall the traveler raise his thoughts to speech?
Or does the road call more loudly?
To this comes the silent answer
Tis known that thy head is used to the full of a feather bed
But the warmth of straw and hearth does bear merit
My stew is not as hearty as fine spiced meats
Nor is my plate gold
But tender is mine hand and adoring is my offer
The finery of fools besieges me not
Nor does the foul smell nor pallor faces of the dead
Graceful is my life dear traveler
Stay awhile
Tis naught of often thou hangs thy hat
The roaming of village to village
Seeking
What finds thee? What dost thou seek?
How loud dost the wind call? How hard dost it push?
Dost thy heels bear wings?
Wilt thou ride Pegasus or attempt the acts of Icarus?
Let she sup with thee
Speak of thine own being
Let sound resonate in stories and create illusions drawn pretty with every stroke
That elaborates upon the wag of the tongue
Pray tell speak!
Pricked are my awaiting ears
O dearest traveler
Stay awhile ~ Maggie ~ Penned prior to 3:00 p.m. EST on August 8, 2008 *Originally posted 8/8/08 @ 10:13 p.m. EST

The Interesting Thing About Words~

It is not so much the completeness of the sentence, but the words within the sentence.  If a sentence contains words like: may, could, probably, might, and I am sure there are others, one who pays attention would realize that there is uncertainty there or the inadvertent relating of the opposite thereof the subject matter.  Meh.  Hell, as if I don’t know this.  Being rat (Doors, Bridges, and Rat Behavior) and looking for back doors, windows, and alternative routes, I am prepared.  I would be foolish not to be.  Hence, I am packed to the gills and ready to go it alone.  Might that not have been my objective last year?  Why yes.  Now looking at win/win scenarios (Pudding and Pi), I can’t lose.  That is my positive objective.  That is always my objective.  It does make for a happy camper.

When looking at “Breath,” the words “all is only a stone’s throwaway” does bear meaning, however, I shan't elaborate on that. 

I am "The Clown."

I head out to Starwood on the morrow.  I shall be well. ~ Maggie ~ July 17, 2009 @ 2:03 p.m. EST 

Doors, bridges, and rat behavior...

Some doors are big and some doors are small, but in a way they are like bridges.  If you need to ask how so, then perhaps you should examine what they both do.  If a door is locked one cannot get to the other side.  Mind you windows and back doors may be available, but much like a broken or burned bridge, one would have to take an alternate route or be left on the other side.  Doors and bridges provide passageways to a straight destination when in good form.  One can open a door fairly easy if one is the owner and has maintained it.  If locked, the owner would always have the key.  However, when the proverbial door is not yours you could close it on yourself and be locked on the other side.  It is like burning a bridge.  Doors and bridges are but virtual passageways that we design with our own mind.  Personally, I like built in back doors (yes plural), halls, and windows.

All in all, rats don’t like to be cornered and will seek the nearest exit or attack and run.   Wall runner. ~ Maggie ~ July 5, 2009 @ 8:34 p.m. EST

Rat behavior:  The present research aimed to evaluate the role of 5-HT1A receptors in the modulation of maternal aggressive behavior and anxiety in female rats. Although, in a functional sense, parental aggression is a defensive protective behavior [1], the form and the topography of the behaviors displayed by a female rat with pups against a conspecific intruder share some similarities with the offensive behavior of males in colonies against subordinates and/or intruders. However, different from males, the aggressive behavior of lactating female rats comprises another strategy that is less contact-orientated which is characterized by the frontal attack (jump attack) directed to the head or snout of the intruder [2] and its form and topography have some similarities with the defensive explosive jump attack of a cornered rat by a predator. FROM:  http://www.noldus.com/events/mb98/abstracts/almeida_de.htm

Also read:  On Aggression by Konrad Lorenz

Addendum:  Page 39: intraspecific competition is quite interesting.

Pudding and Pi~
This day I sit and wonder about the morrow.  I shan’t lay odds of this nor that as I too am responsible in the outcome of it all.  I too play a role.  What law of probability could be used when I am affecting the outcome?  Aye.  It is like I have loaded the dice so that I may win.  Win you say?  Why yes.  Certainly.  Does not one play to win?  Goals and objectives.  Yo.  I see that glass over there and I want it.  However, it has to walk over to me.  Nay!  That is for the lame and tame of heart.  Barrel through!  I go after what I want to a degree (360) which is usually pi.  Yet...  Me thinks and wonders about words of tongue which slips through channels and is digested through waters which are like rapids.  Ah yes.  The burning of wood yet again. Can you smell it?  All in all it reverts back to values.  Alas, where do values lie?  I suppose I shall see as the proof is in the proverbial pudding.  For thirteen years pi came numerous times as the wheel spun and the cycle repeated for I contributed to the outcome of perpetuation.  However, just once and only once did I truly cut the pie and thus ended the perpetuation. ~ Maggie ~ July 1, 2009 @ 9:33 p.m. EST


Main article: Einstein-Bohr debates

The Copenhagen interpretation of quantum mechanics and Heisenberg's Uncertainty Principle were in fact seen as twin targets by detractors who believed in an underlying determinism and realism. Within the Copenhagen interpretation of quantum mechanics, there is no fundamental reality the quantum state describes, just a prescription for calculating experimental results. There is no way to say what the state of a system fundamentally is, only what the result of observations might be.

Albert Einstein believed that randomness is a reflection of our ignorance of some fundamental property of reality, while Niels Bohr believed that the probability distributions are fundamental and irreducible, and depend on which measurements we choose to perform. Einstein and Bohr debated the uncertainty principle for many years.

FROM:  http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Uncertainty_principle

Breath~

She breathes in deeply as she contemplates the future.  “Who makes the future?” she thinks to herself.  “Why I do” she says.  Choices are freedom.  Relaxing in a styled-manner more akin to a piece of marble than to that of flesh knowing that for every action there is a reaction and marble does not move....  For every inaction there is a consequence.  Yes.  Knowing.  Bright eyes reach out and seek, but if only the eyes moved, they would accomplish nothing.  What transmissions that she lays in neural pathways make way to what will be or not.  Marble to dust on the breath of wind dost move to the direction that is cast.  All is only a stone’s throwaway. ~ Maggie ~ July 1, 2009 @ 6:55 p.m. EST    

There are NO typos.  The WORDS are correct.

The Clown~

I am a barrel of laughs.  Open the barrel and you will find a clown with a painted smile or not just painted, but more at twisted to form.  Life is funny even with all the shit that surrounds one.  Laughing helps ease much.  However, it does not make one a fool.  That is the way I feel.  That is the way I live my life.  My life is built from my past.  I have burned to learn what I have learned. I used to house the following in my wallet which was something I had written in the 80's.  “What is reality?  What is, will always be, or a speculation of what we conceive things to be?”  May we be so bold as to conceive our lives once we recognize our power to do so?  Therefore, would the smile “twisted to form” suit me well and not be pseudo in nature? Aye.  ~ Maggie ~ May 14, 2009 @ 2:21 p.m. EST

Inspired by a friend via IM.

The Male Rat Race~

Today was let’s hit on Maggie day.  Two man of opposite characters and financial circumstances were vying for my attention today at the same time.  Both asked if the other was hitting on me and to both I said yes.  One treated me for dinner (the lawyer) and the other will see me tomorrow (the trucker).  It was just interesting to watch them compete.  The competition was a subtle one, but nonetheless it was there.

Most woman would go for the older more wealthy type of guy for whatever reason.  However, I do not.  I saw something lacking in him and I saw him as not taking responsibility for his actions/decisions.  For a lawyer (tax law), you would think he would be more logical.  What bothered me the most was when he stated that he wanted to utilize my mind to make money. I view that as exploitation and I told him so.  I call a spade a spade. You would think that my criticism of him would have scared him off, but it didn’t.  I was as blunt as a hammer.  I won’t get into all the details of how bluntly honest with him that I was, but he took every kick in the pants I could dish out.

In regard to the trucker, he is a nice dude who I have met before.  When he asked if I had a boyfriend, I said that I do not, but I am in love with someone who I will be meeting up with very soon.  Why should I lie?  The label of boyfriend and girlfriend are not there but my love of him is.  Do I need the label?  Nah. I was not lying when I said this either.  I explained to him that what is is until it isn’t as are all things.  Having a male friend or friends is not bad so long as he/they knows the boundaries and do not exceed them.  I trust he will not exceed them.  He did ask if I was trying to scare him off as well, but I stated that if that were my intent, I would show him my crazy and my weapons.  This appealed to him.  Go figure.

The lawyer said that I should not lower myself to tent vacations.  Lower myself I said?  When I asked him if his money gave him happiness or grief, he found himself unfulfilled and stated that he needs guidance.  That is not something that can be given.  Suggestions were offered in regard to looking into himself and altering that which he already recognizes and problematic.  When one seeks only the material, they are hallow.  When one seeks the intangible, they are fulfilled.  Maybe he will find fulfillment if he seeks it out himself within himself.

Well, tomorrow I get to look into the trucker’s cab to have an idea of what the living quarters look like for a full time trucker.  He said he would straighten it up so that I could have a look see.  He was humble and honest and I appreciated that.

Lest I forget a funny part, the lawyer asked if the trucker was single and my response was yes.  Do you want to go out with him?  LOL

Oh what a day. ~ Maggie ~ July 17, 2009 @ 1:13 p.m. EST

HONEY~

Mine gray/greens see thee before I get there
Me canst help but see thee
The anticipation builds
Ah, the culmination
A climax like a volcanic eruption
Lava flows from thought
Thought brought forward on a wave
Tidal in nature
Ebb not, but rise to the occasion!
Tis but a celebration of the connection
Thy honey in color a grand design
Spell bound to thee I be
See thee but soon
Tis not soon enough
Thine eyes move me! ~ Maggie ~ July 15, 2009 @ 6:04 p.m. EST

Share Time~

Meh.  I read several books at once and I am in the middle of all three.  However, I will share of Dawkins today.  Although many things interest me. I especially like to form brain-loaded probability theories and strategic maneuvers.  If you think about it, it is rather mathematical or if you prefer, it runs like background programs all playing at once.  Are you aware that you do these things?  I am aware that I do.

Note:  The "MY BONUS SECTION" is in place as I question patriarchy.

Special Note:  If you don't like it, don't read it.  Then again, you might not know if you like it or not unless you read it.  ~ Maggie ~ July 6, 2009 @ 7:18 p.m. EST

From Dawkins’ The Blind Watchmaker:

Pg. 231

“Our brains have been built by natural selection to assess probabilities and risk, just as our eyes have been built to assess electromagnetic wavelength.  We are equipped to make mental calculations of risk and odds, within the range of improbabilities that would be useful in human life.”

Further down the page...

“Evolution has equipped our brains with a subjective consciousness of risk and improbability suitable for creatures with a lifetime of less than one century.  Our ancestors have always needed to take decision involving risks and probabilities, and natural selection has therefore equipped our brains to assess probabilities against a background of the short lifetime that we can, in any case, expect.”

Pg. 233

“Not only are our brains equipped by nature to assess risks of things in a short time, they are also equipped to assess risks of things happening to us personally, or to a narrow circle of people that we know.”

MY BONUS SECTION:  Pgs. 249 - 250

“Mitochondria and chloroplasts have their own DNA, which replicates and propagates itself entirely independently of the main DNA in the chromosomes of the nucleus.  All the mitochondria in you are descended from the small population of mitochondria that travelled [sic] from your mother in her egg.  Sperms are too small to contain mitochondria, so mitochondria travel exclusively down the female line, and male bodies are dead ends as far as mitochondria reproduction is concerned.  Incidentally, this means that we can use the mitochondria to trace our ancestry, strictly down the female line.”

A Comment~

Message from the heart...yes. Tolerance indeed for what human does not have the capacity to anger or become violent. It is only within us that we may correct what we see as negatives. It is not for us to correct others. It is a choice that we make to be who we are. When positive energies reside next to the negative energies, the negative energies are overridden. Love is an interesting word, but how does one define it? What are its features and how do they come to be? Moreover, what is its base? ~ Maggie ~ June 25, 2009 during the daylight hours in EST

Ten reasons why men (or, if I were a guy: women) suck...

1 - What they say they don’t mean
2 - What they mean they don’t say
3 - Half the time they don’t know what they are talking about
4 - Half the time they are not talking
5 - When getting close, they run
6 - When running away, they try to get close
7 - Trying to have a conversation is like pulling teeth
8 - They just don’t understand women/men
9 - Hello hello hello is there anybody in there?  Just nod if you can hear me.  Is there anyone at home?
10 - They are so simplistic that they are complex

GIVE ME A FUCKING GUN!!!!

The name's Mags.  Like in wide tires peeling out on hot asphalt.  Get it? ~ Maggie 6/7/09 @ 9:57 p.m. EST

The Men in the Masks

Who is he who hides behind the mask?
Be he the angel of music?  The Phantom?
Ah, the Broadway play was spectacular!
He who so sought the love of Christine, but his face...
She could not see past his deformity
Whatever beauty he held while hidden
And what beauty he had given her
Was discarded for another
The Man in the Iron Mask
A twist of truth with fiction,
Was hidden by a black velvet mask
And was not hidden by choice
Were his looks offensive?
No one knows for sure
Yet hidden away was he
One rumor being such the twin of Louis XIV
Within the movie
Supposedly Philippe was the twin to Louis
And Louis being first born, was heir
Yet who bore more worth?  More beauty of manners?
Why Philippe did!
The two dramas regard the hiding of a face
Yet in a world where all bear their faces
The mask lies in the display of the persona ~ Maggie ~ June 7, 2009 @ 7:58 p.m.

Novem

Speakth thee of thy sense
Yet fear it not be vulgar to mine ear
For what is not heard speakth just as well
I ask thee for nothing save truth
Behold!
I shall not shatter like fine crystal
Yet the not knowing tears at fiber and thus leaves it bedraggled
All is good on the mend
O to darn again!
Speakth thee the words which thou know’st to be true
Me can’st force what well regarded words I would likest to hear
But I may beg of thee the words thou may think’st should cause me harm
Nay.  No harm shall come from truth
Tis far worse to be in vile defense of heart
Save for what purpose?
Love?
Ah, but no votive cast forth light leaving even shadows to dance
My words dent thee not
Regard!
Clock winds back
Forward to start
When November reigns
Alas we shall part
I know not when November comes
But see it upon the horizon
Pray thee well for the season anew
I bid thee glad tidings and the joys of life
As that is my love for thee
It shall not die with age ~ Maggie ~ June 3, 2009 @ 3:50 p.m. EST

"If you love somebody, let them go, for if they return, they were always yours. And if they don't, they never were." -  Kahlil Gibran

Four Simple Words~ Never Posted

“I love you not” are just four simple words.  How hard is it to say these words?  Me thinks it would be fairly easy as they come easily to me.  Then again, to say I love you, has also come easily as well once over the spell of terming it the “L” word.  Why can’t the truth be told rather than letting it unfold via what is not read or what is read in various forms which lead to confusion and unsurety?  Then again comes a ponder.  What if nothing can be said?  Alas, what am I reading, not reading, or do not see?  What do I see?  I know not.  Complications.  How long shall I dither?                                           

Of splendid time in sharing nature was and will be well spent until spent of time.  I know not when it comes, but I see it forthcoming and I accept it fully.  Must I display the words in such form that head nods or verbal agreement is had?  Horses could be lead to water, but one cannot force them to drink.  In addition, one cannot beat a dead horse as it will not rise to take one hither.  It is not so much that I wish to hear these words, however, I prefer truth and accept it wholeheartedly with no ill will.  Isn’t that the essence of true love?  The season of change approaches. I will love you always even when we say goodbye.  "If you love somebody, let them go, for if they return, they were always yours. And if they don't, they never were." -  Kahlil Gibran ~ Maggie ~ June 3, 2009 @ 1:35 a.m. EST

Sweet November~NEVER POSTED

All things come full cycle and many cycles run at once.  However, one particular cycle has just about run its course and I do not see it changing in one direction or another.  A seasoned individual knows that seasons change.  Perhaps my gears need a nudge, but the time is not yet up.

November (novem) = 9.  You may see the eleventh month, but I don’t.  Actually, for me, all things come to change in September as that is my month for change.  It has always been so in the course of mine own history and thus shall be thus again. ~ Maggie ~ May 31, 2009

“How do I love thee?  Let me count the ways.” - Elizabeth Barrett Browning

*Love.  A most interesting topic of discussion isn’t it?  What if one counted all the ways yet saw the season changing?  Seasons change don’t they?  Am I in season?  Yes.  And I am seasoned as well.  I won’t read things that are not there. ~ Maggie ~ May 24, 2009

* Although this is part of another piece of my literature, I have chosen not to post the full content.

Knocking...(NEVER POSTED)

A gentle tap upon you door is sometimes heard sometimes ignored
I understand
Time...
A thing that is fleeting when restricted
Communication...
Allows me to know you
But there is a wall
Why?
I want so bad to say what I wish, but I hold my tongue for your benefit.  The keys are now my instrument.  Sense is that of frustration.

Lost for words, but not.  How shall I put this?  With tongue held for benefit, my keys are free to evoke that which was shut.  My sense picked up hostility and frustration.  However, I question why?  The why is not for what I sense, but for what keeps you as thus.  I see you keeping yourself as thus.  Perhaps I am not for you and that is fine with me.


November... ~ Maggie ~ May 24, 2009 @ ??? distracted again

Where can I start? (NEVER POSTED)

Where can I start?  Perhaps it is best to note the first pondering of “who am I?”  Yes.  Regardless of my past, there was always a side of me that questioned “what is” and “what if.”  Thinking back, I recall writing my thoughts on paper in regard to “who am I?”  If memory serves me any merit, I was about 16 years old when the thought occurred to me.  Despite time, the concept stayed with me long after the paper disappeared.  Then again, it may be amongst my tons of papers.  Who knows.

The gist of my words were:  Who am I?  Am I who I am or am I who I appear to be to others?  I addressed masks and facets of self.  In the address I had also noted that it was my belief  that we are truly ourselves when alone as all the fragments come together, the masks are dropped, and thus in our solitude we are whole.  Who really knows who and what we are?  Based on observations, one could say so and so got to point B by coming from point A, however, is it really that linear?  No.  Only one person can know the full internal process(es) and that is the individual who experiences themself.  Acknowledgment.  Ah yes.  That wonderful word brought forward via introspection.  Can one really lie to themselves?  It is possible through rote to convince yourself that such and such happened or did not happen, but in all seriousness, who is really being fooled?

I chose to write about this today after discussing life with Stan.  The above was mentioned and then I questioned the matter of our universe and where it lies.  Based on thoughts of self, but not in a selfish way, I stated that the universe lies within us in various ways.  It is not just our minds which holds our data, but also within our very atomic structure.  We spoke of living in the dark, looking for the light, and blindness.  He too is aware of our energy and, for lack of a better word, metamorphosis.

For those of you who have read me, you may remember that I posted a blog relating to the meaning of life.  Although I cannot say I have an answer for you, I can say that I have an answer for me. ~ Maggie ~ May 24, 2009 @ ??? I got distracted.

The Cold~

I recognize the cold and its deliverance and its deliverance is not just to me.  Perhaps the person is just that way, yet I wonder how they got that way.  I have seen and felt such before, but the circumstances are different: the people are different.  In past case, it came from a history of such which was broken a generation ago.  It is not that the person did not feel, but the person, no matter what, could not speak it to anyone.   Past case was able to do, but not to say.  In present case, I am not sure of the capability of doing, however, I am aware of the not saying.

Perhaps the one who issues the cold does not see the delivery nor may they be aware of their own actions/inactions.  Invariably, there is a reason for the cold.  The icy stillness has to affect them inside in order to show on the surface.  The inside that is dark, cold, and alone or so it seems.  From my perspective, it seems that it is something that they don’t want to talk about or can’t.

An attentive person can read such patterns whereas an inattentive person will dismiss them or become angered by them.  Everyone has their closet and some, through time and experience, allow the contents to air so that they may be refreshed.  Then again, one would require recognition of such closet contents to be able to air them.  What happens if one recognizes it not and the monster continues its snore unabated?  Unrecognized?

Could it be that it is not so much that a void has to be filled?  I really don't know.  However, if I had to guess, I think it would be more at ridding oneself of baggage that has yet to be claimed. Yes.  Perhaps that is it.  ~ Maggie ~ May 9, 2009 @ 7:05 p.m. EST