The Hunger~

The focus of my power can only lie within as I don't have and don't want to have power over another/others. It is for another/others to have power over themselves. However, it is hoped that the power that is gained is understood and not made a power over another/others. That would defeat the purpose of freedom.

Were thou not told never to feed the wild animals?

THE HUNGER...

Thou hast fed an animal of the wild
And thus the animal now hungers
With an almost insatiable appetite
Perhaps thou had not known that I was wild

How shall I describe the hunger?  The hunger is like a burning sensation that rouses the senses from darkened places.  Each morsel that was given was tracked and marked and now the bar has  risen.  Ah, each equestrian jump is higher than the last is it not?  Art not the maneuvers more complex?  Aye.

Is the hunger for that of food?  Nay, but nonetheless thou hast fed a wild animal and hast allowed the animal fresh meat.  That being said, I HUNGER for more.  It is hoped that I feed to my delight both in the day and in the night.  Fortunately, my appetite did not wean off with the passing years.  Tis my self appointed gift.  You would think that by now my desire would lessen or that my mind would be more tranquil in thought.  Again the word that comes to mind is NAY.  Tis a horse who nays away the day in clover fields, but be she mare?  Aye.  What stallion does she eye for the sake of a mate?  Be he wild?  Aye.  My practice has always been that should my nostrils flare and the hot moist breath escape them, I would take to the mount and feed as that is my beast. The animal within.  It is well known that a horse does not eat meat, but wolves do. ~ Maggie ~ January 29, 2009 @ 1:29 a.m. EST

The Crag

Rest dear soul whose minimum dost break the tide
Lining white ways of blue azure foam
Wrestling moon for wave of thither
Rock bound and clad but for a moment
Speak of elegant motion
Clash and splash gayly
Night falls and winds rise
Higher to pitch black seas rise
Noise sounding roar of oar
Vessel splatter upon the shore... ~ Maggie ~ January 28, 2009 @ 7:14 p.m. EST

Seasons In The Abyss

Seasons in the Abyss is a great song, but it is also a great idea. Imagine a dreamlike state where the greatest point of gravitational pull gives way and a falling occurs. All that surrounds you will be darkened, you may or may not feel the velocity at which you fall. Let’s say you feel a tremendous pull and your hair is flying backward and your clothes are all puffed out as if you had jumped out of a plane, only you can’t see the puff. You can’t even see the nose on your face much less your own arm(s). Perhaps you may feel a sense of fear in that you know not what will happen next, however, what if after what appears like 5 minutes (it could be 10 seconds, but time will not be something you will be aware of in full unless you have a big glow in the dark clock) you decide to have some fun with this event. Who knows, it could be your last and you won’t have to worry about feeling foolish at the playfulness of your nature as no one will see you as you can’t even see yourself. Okay, let’s say you decide you want to roll around in the space or dive down instead of doing the horizontal (if in fact you are horizontal) looking whose knows where as there is no sky, walls, or ground. All you have is the feeling of your own body and the sense experience of falling along with all the thoughts (if any) that are running through your head. You could be Superman even with your eyes open as you envision flying into a city to catch the bad guys, or you could be Peter Pan flying off to do battle with Captain Hook, or you are Alice in Wonderland and imagine you will catch the rabbit when you reach the bottom of the rabbit hole. Of course these are stories you are familiar with, but let’s say you decide just to be you. In all the darkness of the abyss that you have fallen into, time and space no longer exist. If you cannot see yourself, how do you know that you exist? Is it because you are thinking and imagine you feel a velocity of sort due to the rushing of air around your supposed body? Let’s now remove the rushing air and leave a calm weightless feeling. Now let’s us go one step further. What if you did not see that truck coming and death was instantaneous? Would you know the difference? Tis but a question. Other questions arise as well. How long is a season in the abyss and what would you make of it? You now have an environmental and physical tabula rasa of sorts. Do with it what you will. ~ Maggie ~ January 28, 2009 @ 5:16 p.m. EST

What is love and happiness: A personal perspective

In order to address this matter, I will look at self love and self happiness.

The love of self is most important for if one does not love self, one cannot love another or others with a full heart.  Taking this one step further, if love of self is not there, the individual who lacks self-love will look for love from another/others hoping to fill their void.  What occurs is a only a temporary fix for their self-love deficit.  Like a junkie needing a fix, a person who does not love self will take whatever love is offered to them, but they will not have the capacity to love in return nor sustain what love is bestowed upon them as they understand it not.  They accept love strictly for self gratification and nothing more. Therefore, how can one who lacks self-love love another in return? Love cannot be returned as there is little to none for self much less that to give to another/others. 

The problematic scenario for the person who lacks self-love is once the love from another/others  is removed, the individual lacking self-love will feel a greater void/hurt than the person who experiences a similar removal, but who loves themselves.  The difference lies in that the person who loves self feels more whole.  Although the person who loves self will miss the company and sharing of their love, their bounce back will be easier.  Whereas the person who lacks self-love will feel that a part of them has been taken away.  Unfortunately, that is not the case.  The part that is now missing was missing at the start.  It is possible that feelings of  worthlessness will be felt  not having self worth in the first place.  When you love self, you place a high value on self worth.

Happiness is something that lies within and cannot be obtained from a material object(s) or another/other subject(s).  Granted, the presence of a certain object(s) or the presence of a certain  subject(s) could please a person, however, the base of the happiness lies not within an object(s) or subject(s) presence.  If one had to base their happiness on exterior factors such as material goods or other people it would be dreadful.  What if one could not have the same type of income, vehicle, home,  vacation, or sneakers as a friend or family member?  Should that be a reason for unhappiness? Does money and object/material gain provide a body with joy or happiness?  Maybe for time, but then what?  What happens when the job is lost, the vehicle is broken down, the home is repossessed, the vacation passed 10 years ago, and the sneakers are hanging from a telephone wire?  Well what happens then?

As far as a subject(s) goes, what if your sole happiness depended on another person(s) and that person(s) just up and died or moved away forever?  Should you follow in death or move?  Would you then not know what happiness lies within the individual called YOU?  What if the subject or subjects are miserable?  Even if you love them, the misery is not worth your happiness to make them happy is it?  Misery does love company.  However, you could technically transfer your positively charged happy energy to the negatively charged unhappy individual, but it is up to the receiver to maintain their own happiness.  If they love themselves, they will keep themselves happy in a non object and non subject way.

Ah hell, I guess love and happiness tie in like a big pink bow.  The only one who will love you and give you the happiness that you deserve is YOU and no one other than YOU.  You in turn can share your love and happiness with others.  Wee ha!  That is amazing. ~ Maggie ~ January 27, 2009 @ 3:45 p.m. EST

Messages and Symbols?

Contemplating reason for a seasonal gift, a man sitting two seats over from me told me out of the seeming blue that they were turning the tape over.  He said “they” were playing “Santa Clause Is Coming To Town” and he asked me if I heard it.   There was no music playing in my ears from the waiting room I was in but he said something to the effect that they were turning the tape over.  When I asked him what is on the other side of the tape, he responded that the New Year was over.  I agreed, but still asked what was on the other side of the tape.  Call it morbid curiosity as I wanted to know what he heard.  Listen carefully I did in the event that there was music playing that my own thoughts had drowned out while thinking about the gift and its purpose.  Why that particular book me thought?  Why that particular subject matter from that particular author?  Nonetheless, there was no music playing.  He never did tell me what was on the other side of the tape that was supposedly being turned over.  He spoke of the return of the geese and stated that they are becoming dependent on humans thus losing their own survival skills.  We spoke of trees in early bloom as well as the ability to spot one of our own.  He knew me and I knew he, but we knew not each other.  Names were exchanged and hands were shook and I was left with questions about the man “a-cross” the river’s words.

This event really took place today.  In my own mind I questioned the sanity of the individual, but at the same time, I didn’t.  What if he was a messenger of sorts as what was on my mind had to do with an xmas present from a supposed “Secret Santa?” I use the word “supposed” in my previous sentence as I know whom the gift was inadvertently from, but know not who chose this particular book from this particular author dealing with this particular subject: symbols.  On the gift card it said “From: Secret Santa.”  From mind to hand and then delivery...there I question.  I was sitting there wondering why a book on symbols and why from Jung.  In addition, why was the book a book on psychology and not on another subject matter such as physics, history, politics, philosophy, art, law, or classical literature.  Why? The night before, I had asked my “Santa” why and he stated that “you are interested in psychology.”  That is true as that is what my degree is in, however, I also read other subjects as he well knows.  The tape in my head was thinking about Santa’s choice of genre.  In a way the tape has turned as xmas is over and Santa’s gift is being devoured and thought upon in the New Year despite areas of disagreement in regard to dream interpretation via symbols by ANY analyst.  However, I now sit and question what is playing on the other side of the New Year?  What about the returning geese and their dependence on bread?  What about the trees and knowing our own?  What do these symbols hold?  What is the message if any?  Thankfully this is not open to the arena of an analyst’s couch, but it is open to what it means to me within my own objectivity/subjectivity and not that which is or could be planted..

Meh.  The doctor called at 7:13 p.m. and I have to have the fluid from my knee drained and tested.  Great huh?  lol What the hell right?  Tis best to make light of that which could be heavy.  The future unfolds in the fashion of our design.  Tis light... ~ Maggie ~ January 25, 2009 @ 8:23 p.m. EST.

NOTE:  I DON'T CARE IF THERE ARE GRAMMATICAL OR PUNCTUATION ERRORS.  This shant be fixed.

Peg~

Peg is marked.  Although I would like to create a character analysis, I am not really sure where to start.  Characterizing a murderous wife and her abusive husband in an old story plot was easy, however, this is different.  That old story was a draft and even though the draft contained quite a bit of background information, I never did draft her end, but it is still envisioned as eye first upon the metal spiked fence.  Yes I envisioned her trip.  That is a pun.

Peg is different.  What do I see for the future?  I do not see anything worthy or fruitful and I actually find it rather sad.  Pegged and pigeonholed the numbers add up to expectation.  If hindsight is 20/20, what is foresight?  Vision?  Perhaps.  Maybe it is all about human behavior and the understanding of it or perhaps it is experience.  Then again, it could be a co-mingling of many things.

I do enjoy finding out what makes people tick as well as finding out where their ticktock will bring them.  Ticks can be heard on some clocks marking each second and they can also be found on dogs, but a tic is also a muscle spasm.  The words all sound the same, but each has a different meaning.  By the way, one plus one will always be two and 10 will always be ONE. ~ Maggie ~ January 24, 2009 @ 5:38 p.m. EST

Thoughts and Numbers ~

"To sleep perchance to dream..." is the thought of Hamlet, but he of course speaks of death. Yet Donne also spoke of death in that it "be not proud" for it accomplishes nothing. "Waking Life" and dreaming life are akin if pondered. Are we but dreams of self? Decartes thought about this too.

Perhaps it is insane to believe that thoughts can manifest, but that is exactly what I believe. The schematics are run in my head where it is rather abstract like the pieces of a jigsaw puzzle where I know it forms a picture as I see it, but I have to place the pieces together so that another can see it without looking at the box cover. It is by my own means transmitted.

Not that I know much of anything, but what are the chances of me figuring out in my head the same shit that I am just now just reading about? Math and numbers are my worst subject and I never took science save for an unfinished class in anatomy and physiology in college. By the way, I did enjoy dissecting a rat’s kidneys. They were a lovely shade of blue. What if what I am thinking conceptually, is a reality that had come to be at another time or has yet to be? I will not insinuate that I know for sure anything about which I speak, but I do find that the order of my reading is bringing to light that which I pondered a year earlier and have been trying to grasp via images in abstract vision in regard to time, reality, space, death, life, and their relation to one another.

To anyone who has been reading me, you will know that I have been looking at time and numbers not exceeding 9. It is odd that I am currently on 5's in the book by Lance Storm called The Enigma of Numbers and I skipped ahead to 9 and then 10. Ten is ONE or unity. Zero is the Uroboros or the serpent who eats its own tail. It is not a number per se. It is life and death one and the same. It came to me as zero’s, circles, and eights equating to continuum. It is also odd, that the manner in which I came to see something could only be defined as liquid mercury falling upon itself turning rainbow and then devoid of color on the last two levels being 1 and 2. From what I gather, ancient alchemists used mercury, salt, and sulphur. I don’t know why I am thinking what I think nor do I understand how and why I am going through the motions of finding an answer, except perhaps there is one. It need not be the answer for everyone, but it will be mine.

0 = Void symbolic only. More at Uroboros - no beginning - no end like a circle.

1 = Monad (point/unity/infinity) The philosopher Zeno (342-270 BC) dealt with the problem of infinity by postulating the existence of conceptual entia such as the point, which had position, but no magnitude (i.e., it had location without extension). The point could not be increased by addition, or decreased by subtraction, and therefore did not exist in actuality.

2 = Dyad = squared = circle

3 = Triad = circle

4 = Tetrad = square = circle

5 = Pentad = circle

6 = Hexad = circle

7 = Heptad ?

8 = Ogdoad = continuum and contains two 45 degree angles = 9 or circle

9 = Ennead = thrice tri or complete cycle = circle

10 = Decad forms a triangle by adding 1+2+3+4 (tetractys) as thus and it exists in religion, alchemy, biology, psychology, and PHYSICS in regard to quarks:

   *
  * *
 * * *
* * * *

The Decad rather looks like the head of a pin or Monad. Virtual point to infinity.

The only thing I can’t figure is 7 other than it being prime and it comes to PI which occurs on MY level ONE in MY personal charts, but I did not skip ahead in the book to read up on this one. By the way, pi is 3.14159265358979323846...

When "PI[ED]" (simple past tense and past participle of pi) occurs at level 2 in time of 9, it then goes into restart on level 3 in time of 2.

Pi or ð is a mathematical constant whose value is the ratio of any circle's circumference to its diameter in Euclidean space, it is the same value as the ratio of a circle's area to the square of its radius. It is approximately equal to 3.14159 in the usual decimal notation (see the table for its representation in some other bases). Pi is one of the most important mathematical and physical constants: many formulae from mathematics, science, and engineering involve ð. Pi is an irrational number, which means that its value cannot be expressed exactly as a fraction m/n, where m and n are integers. Consequently, its decimal representation never ends or repeats. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pi

Currently on page 245. ~ Maggie ~ January 21, 2009 @ 10:07 p.m. EST

Villainy Art Woman

Lily Munster of 1313 Mockingbird Lane sharpens her nail to a fine point to pierce the skin of the victim of intent.  Penetration just a might for slight is enough to draw. Debauchery in thought perhaps made to flesh begat always from idea.  I have tasted of thee.

My thoughts filled “his” brain an “he” created the actions.  Thought to manifestation upon verbiage abstract and nothing more.  Bloodlust engulfing thoughts of meager means.  Ah, tis but a thought to play within the scope of this fabric I hold close to my heart.  Is it I who speaks of this as thus or do I tell a story?

If said story be one of the art of villainy, let us add a swan for the glory.  She lies between me and thee and I offer her up not for thee!  Nay.  My selfish ways are too pervasive, but perhaps that is not seen.  I had thought upon myself as an offer to thee, but that would be too easy.  Then again, these are just thoughts.  The woman before me is but my instrument on which to wage my creative achievement.  The puncture and torture for thrill.  Shall you feed?  Will the contorted figure provide your will with energy?  Will it drive you mad? What perversions may I hold that you may not see the magnitude or scope of?  Alas it lies in time, but what is time when you understand it not?  Depravity is as sweet as death!  Sniff the sweetness of the fallen corpse.

DeSade provides many interesting scenarios in which one could open a portal into another zone of decay or dismay for another, but what say you to another wishing it so?  Is silent consent a factor for consideration?  It would seem that it plays quite well at the moment. Is it I who speaks of this as thus or do I tell a story?  ~ Maggie ~ January 21, 2009 @ 8:13 p.m. EST

Who is to say what is what and what has been and where.  Tis only I that knows for where and there I leave it square.  Adieu! *wink

We Touch

I sense the pale blue of his shades whose expansion touches me.  We relate in a relative way, but what if not relative at all, but defying time/space?  Our conversations are magnetic yet not static.  Imagine attached mode without freedom?  Nay!  Air fuels fire in a stir and we absorb the exchange of information.

Ah, the fresh breath that is breathed into me with words.  Simple words.  We speak of love in regard to opposite sexes and I question the reality or meaningfulness of its nature.  Is it in fact meaningful?  Is it our age or the age that we are in that create things as thus?  Alas, we are left to ponder.

For the record, I would like to note that the greatest joys are the sorrows that produce works.  The works are a display of passion.  I feel his sorrow and I see his works. ~ Maggie ~ January 19, 2009 @ 12:57 p.m. EST

Steady Now With Holes...

This post will be removed in three days time.

Days back...a finding.  What I had thought to be was not.  The paper before me showed me.  Words spoken this day provided more holes.  Nothing but holes!  Fragments...fragmented.  The puzzle is puzzling.  Who am I?  I am me.  When did I become?  I don’t know.  The idea that so many holes exist have me ponder and wonder.  Small dots dot the scene of my reality.  The Vaseline smear on the lens that I lookED through NOW ponder WHEN?  WHO?  Thoughts...

I hum to the idea that so much had slipped.  Does it bother me that I have come to view holes?    Not really even though it makes my history different.  In what clarity do I see things now?  Did I truly wake when I thought?  Perhaps I did not wake until the number as there is steady recollection from that point in detailed form.  It rather reminds me of the 70's, 80's, and 90's when strength and smarts were utilized at the greatest level, yet the sneak of the weak was sometimes holding frayed remnants. 

To me, whomever I may be at this/in this space/time continuum, you are okay kiddo as you can rationalize and explore what is missing.  You can see “now-self” doing that, but you can’t remember the holes.  Admission to ability equates to stability.  True form.     

This person that I feel in the now is the combo of two out of three.  One dead and buried.  Gone.  Never forgotten.  Never remembered.  Holes.

The sketch goes back to the starting point of the pencil...virtual.  When asked if present observations in objective and subjective form note differences, the answer was no.  I am steady.  Steady now with holes.  Happy am I.  ~ Maggie ~ Monday January 18, 2009 @ 12:45 a.m. EST

I AM LOKI

LOKEY is a name be bound
Of blood within my veins
From where it came tis but a guess
Scotland or norther ground

Could this be of Viking lore
Of twisted fate be mine?
Of a god untamed
From once was named
A clan under a mound?
                              
Believe me not of goddesses
Nor gods
As they are fanciful tales
From OUR minds we gave them life
They did not breathe into WE
She nods...

Bearing art of convenience’s sake
Laden blame upon others of naught
From of the feeble of mind and heart
Until they do awake

Excuses!

Of good and evil do we fare
The creation of ourselves
Tis I only ruling I...I am my own god
“I” be a living being

A creator of all things ~ Maggie ~ January 17, 2009 @ 7:16 p.m. EST

Words From My Baby~

While cleaning my house I came across an old notepad of mine from approximately fall of 2007.  In it, my daughter wrote the most beautiful and honest words to me.  I share them now:

My mommy is the prettiest nicest mommy who listens (leesins (*private joke)) and understands.  Even though we don’t get along and she has no manners, I still love her and wish she lived closer so we could chill more.  I love you and will miss you.

Love Nikki

WOW!  I love my kid and this sure put a smile on my old face! ~ Maggie ~ Jan. 16, 2009 @ 8:41 p.m. EST

O Woman, I Feel For You~

O woman of soft heart and wild vibrations, I feel for you. It is oft that my nature is one of cold hardness which seems soul lacking, but that is my armor and I wear it well. I do feel for you and your circumstances and my heart does go out to you. In your shoes I have walked and learned many lessons along the way in regard to males. However, my foundation began long before my era of male/female relations. Do not think that I do not hurt or cry over events that have transpired. I have and I do. Do not think that my heart has not been torn as it has, but I can turn self. You see each lash upon my heart takes something away and creates a modification of behavior that suits me with an added thickness so that penetration THERE cannot occur again. When and if the heart is completely covered, it is as though it does not exist. This extent has only occurred twice for me to which there came the ice and the uncaring nature of my beast that did not cry and did not care. The love is still be there, but it morphed into stories that I will remember for all time: stories that added to my fiber to shed light on others in the form of awareness of SELF.

There is a beauty in love with the ups and downs of it all. The wider one’s shoulders are, the easier it is to bear it and to create from it.

I do love him with all my heart, but I love myself too. Perhaps that is the secret of my success if it can be called that. I do not refer to success in the art of love, I refer to success in the art of life. I need not of another to be fulfilled as I have fulfilled self. Loving another just enhances life and allows for a sharing experience. ~ Maggie ~ January 15, 2009 @ 6:01 p.m.

Green Eyed Monsters~

What upon creation dwells
In heart of man for such?
Provoking hopes of war?
Ugly heads that may arise
Only to be stricken by one who acknowledges
Monsters are within by whatever means
Created by some for jolly gain
But alas I know from where monsters dwell
Twas I in another time
To quote self: Jealousy makes monsters out of ordinary men
Thus a monster never again shall I be
Level is the playing field
Tis not yet a killing field
Never shall I war for a victory false
Yet border crossed upon my person
Allows for the slaying of the creation ~ Maggie ~ Penned Jan. 13, 2009 @ 2:10 p.m. EST

Intent~

Intent on meaning
I spy within my eye test grounds not yet covered
But nonetheless started
Tis but normal to begin in the beginning for surety’s sake
But alas reckless was I
The now holds tomorrow’s key
As the play of plays begins
Tis where all factors count
Tis where value is sought
I seek not of mine own as I am aware
I seek the value of another
In the game of all or nothing
The all is the stage light where scenes are seen to come alive
The nothing is where the curtain falls or the blankness of the screen ~ Maggie ~ Penned Jan. 13, 2009 @ 12:54 p.m. EST

Armor~

Bearing armor plate thick
To which each battle adds metal
Thus penetrate not onto heart
As thy instrument progressively grows blunt
See thee my reason?
Allowance must be had
And allow it I shant
For what purpose I hold
Tis for mine own value
Mine own selfish endeavor
Altruistic yes!  But see ye deeper
Track kept in ledger form
Of gives and takes
Rewards and stakes
Calculating moves upon a chessboard
OR
Steps upon a dance floor brazen with waltz
Gliding to the point in the wall
The Queen’s entrance to disappearance lies
Where might be the King?
Behold the next move ~ Maggie ~ Penned Jan. 13, 2009 @ 12:40 p.m. EST

Untitled~

Present seen in darkened past
Candle of black burns
Illuminating fragments of fractured pieces
Strewn about by cause
The effect a mere manifestation
Held only in glance
Blood applied and stirred
Nay not by chance
But by purpose
Proposed and positioned to condition
Of where the poison lies ~ Maggie ~ Penned Jan. 13, 2009 @ 12:03 p.m. EST

A TASTE OF WHINE~Sent to the whinebag.

Meh to women who are pathetic in their whine factor approach.  Not methodical at all.  Mercy?  Fuck no!  What heart have I for a whinebag?  None!  The ASSumptions actually brought forth a jolly as she was talking out her ass.  Oh man!  Under normal circumstances, such as past ones, I had a heart and would be understanding and even friendly, but these are not normal circumstances and thus it required a different response.

Men are whores.  This I well know and I accept that fact Jack.  Tis far better to be aware of facts then to guess and find clues and have to hurt them physically and/or psychologically for their natural behavior.

CONTEMPT lies in lies and/or slights which add up to TERMINATION.

A most interesting thing from the past...

Knowing that a certain individual was an issue, I had my issue make issue with the individual.  I asked him to do this as it was a turn on for me simply because I wanted him right after the deed was done.  The object of the endeavor was to plant a seed of wanting me as he was having sex with her.  Oh...he couldn’t wait to come to me to tell me of his success.  Details, I wanted details.  He rush performed with her as the idea of my request and my waiting upon him drove him mad.  Upon his arrival, questions came from my mouth as to what happened and how.  As I unzipped his pants with my mouth, I told him that he lied to me and that he did not have sex with her as per my request.  In stating that I did not taste her, he indicated that he MADE HER DOUCHE before hand.  Had I any pity on her?  No.  Erin, Melissa, Joanne, and numerous others had some pity from me, but not Helen.  It was nice that Helen did call me after I tossed his SMACKed up ass to the curb to tell me he died.  BTW, I owe my criminal record to Helen.

Standing in a doorway, leg up against the door, and smoking a cigarette, I tell my daughter: Your father is dead!  According to her, I laughed.  Moo ha ha! *She lied about the laugh, but not the rest. ~ Maggie ~ January 12, 2009 @ 8:06 p.m.

Done to tune/toon:  I AM WHAT I AM AND THAT IS ALL THAT I AM.  I AM POPEYE THE SAILOR MAN TOOT TOOT!

Words Explained~

I am were sands run
As they have feet
And waters fall
Not
Skies in blue thicket
Black thicket
Thorny
Starlit stares
Rise in light of my way                   
Flared and toned are my lead
Grappling
Stricken by gage
Hooves mark airless space
Stricken out of light
Cascade white mighty
Phased out hair blasting
Motionless not detection

I often write and do not understand what I have written as what I see and the words that come to be paint different pictures based on interpretation and/or definition.  Also to, they could be well not be defined seemingly properly by me the observer in correct short form.

What is a above is a woman who rides the sky on a horse and the horse’s hooves are smashing stars with their metal or so it appears. The thorn is her shape as in similar to cone. She is a black hole (which words can also be interpreted to be something else).  In this case I refer to the “dense look” at a black hole of nothingness as we do contemplate it. The apparent color thickets (density) paint darkness, but also do not show what lies below the trees. What I just stated goes deeper than what not can be seen.   The smash of stars explodes bright white before dying.  In this scenario water as we know it does not exist and hence does not fall or flow.  Flare is the horse’s nose or fire (which too can paint different defined pictures). Depending on how you look at it, tone is pitch of sound and sound has waves or not and of tone is in color/light or not .  Death is in the phase out.  It is not her hair that is blasting in the wind (as there is no wind) it is the energy of that which escaped the pull).  In regard to motionless, I refer to when there are no observers. There is no object or subject there just is IS.  I can’t explain IS. It is a negative explosion to one.  I so wish that I could explain it better.

I share the conversation which brought this particular piece’s explanation out of me.

Arachne says (7:22 PM): That is sweet.  I actually took out my knife today as I thought I might have to stab someone.  Meh.
He says (7:22 PM): sigh
Arachne says (7:23 PM): He was drunk and I was armed.  The drunk bleed quicker.  Thinned blood.
He says (7:23 PM): rofl
Arachne says (7:23 PM): However, they are hard to freeze.  LOL
He says (7:23 PM): rofl
He says (7:24 PM): you know , revolution , end of world situation , you would be my first choice of companion
Arachne says (7:25 PM): Why is that?  It is because I can plot?  Actually, I am thinking on building my own bow and arrows.
He says (7:25 PM):  because you can think straight in dire situation
He says (7:26 PM): i would not have to worry about you ,
Arachne says (7:26 PM): darling, I hatch many a scenario, but only one appears to show.  I don't really like to be worried about.
He says (7:26 PM): because there’s no need to
Arachne says (7:27 PM): What would the need be if the because was answered?
He says (7:27 PM): ok , lost me here
Arachne says (7:28 PM): what would make the because for the need?
Arachne says (7:30 PM): I am making an effort to elicit an answer to the statement "I don't really like to be worried about" responding, "because there’s no need to."  Do you speak about me not worrying or about no one needing to about my ass as I can care for self?
He says (7:30 PM): only stating that not only you are the tender lover , the slut , you are also the warrior
Arachne says (7:30 PM): LOL  Most poetic gesture!
He says (7:31 PM): heh
He says (7:32 PM): i could be by your side, knowing that you got my back as i would have yours , but you do not need protection , you do not get in crisis confronted to a harsh situation or hard choices
Arachne says (7:33 PM): I don't fear and it does not matter what happens.  I won't go down easy.  HOWEVER, I can choose my own going down if I so ever desire.
He says (7:34 PM): of course
Arachne says (7:35 PM): but of course.  actually one could will one's self to die by shutting down their own will to voluntarily participate in their autonomic function.
He says (7:41 PM): just linked yr blog space to a very nice person, same interests
Arachne says (7:42 PM): gee thanks.  hey, did you ever write and not  understand your own literature because you had to look up the words as you don't know what they meant at a glance no?  I write right now, but have to decipher my own literature.  It is of a woman who rides the sky on her horse.
He says (7:42 PM): are you tired right now ?
Arachne says (7:43 PM): no are you?  I am writing
He says (7:43 PM): i meant for not understanding your writing not in reading state of mind
Arachne says (7:43 PM): oh no dear.  I will show you what a poet sees
Arachne says (7:44 PM): I am were sands run as they have feet
And waters fall
Not
Skies in blue thicket
Black thicket
Thorny
Starlit stares
Rise in light of my way
flared and toned are my lead
Grappling
Stricken by gage
Hooves mark airless space
Stricken out of light
That is a woman on a horse riding the sky
she has a flying horse.
He says (7:45 PM): beautiful;
Arachne says (7:45 PM): word look up came in the ways of use for flared and toned...grappling as that is what the hooves are doing to stars.
Arachne says (7:46 PM): i envision it and words not familiar to my literature in other uses save for the simple my words may not see reflection in meaning.  sands run like in time as time is measured I use feet
He says (7:46 PM): i enjoy that one
Arachne says (7:47 PM): no water fall in orbit as there is no gravitational pull.  now do you see why i must understand my own words as they form in my brain?
He says (7:48 PM): you do it better i only read it as a spectator , you throwing visions in my head
Arachne says (7:48 PM): I am playing with literature and most readers will not see the picture I paint.
He says (7:49 PM): their loss
Arachne says (7:49 PM): i don't really care as I only write for self.
He says (7:49 PM): still
Arachne says (7:50 PM): now the use of stares as in to look at one for a long time and stairs which sounds similar but is not however it is the one that rises in height?
Arachne says (7:51 PM): and gage is a measurement spelled also gauge.
He says (7:52 PM): i would be a bad judge
Arachne says (7:52 PM): As I am.  I have to understand that which I write and it comes from within and I understand it not.
He says (7:53 PM): still you are better qualified then me
Arachne says (7:53 PM): As you have helped me to define myself, I will use the story with the poem.  I am not qualified at all.
~ Maggie ~ January 11, 2009 @ 9ish EST

How Shall I Lament?

How shall I lament what is?
In stone etched by time
Engraved in stone upon a head
Weathered and beaten
Aye.  It is done to self
Words escape not wanting to be said
But escape they do as they must
Directly speak and question
Listen to answers which come in circles not answered
Excuses come
Which hold no water like a holed container
Breath held
Seeking truth
Testing of water
Ever so slight
Twice over
Awaiting...
Dictates outcome
Pass/fail
In the all or nothing
Shall we play a game?
Will the tree bear fruit?
I leave it to chance
My heart hurts ~ Maggie ~ January 9, 2009 @ 7:51 p.m. EST

Ads...

“Chat with mature men.” “I went from this...to this in 4 weeks.  NO DIET.  NO EXERCISE.”  “I lost 42 Lbs in 4 Weeks.”  Bah!  What the fuck are they selling?

Do I look like I want to talk with a half dead mature man with no noodle?  Those guys are for desperados who NEED a man because they can’t handle their own shit.  Regarding a man’s noodle,  I am not speaking about his penis.  All males have a penis so that is a no brainer.  Actually, that is their little head which really does not have a brain even though it is a little head.  It does not think.  Let me not stray...those mature or well off men who think their shit don’t sink are the types of suckers I like to take down a few notches.  Why?  Because I can.  It is fun to play with their ego think thing.  Yo, that is the best strike zone on a man.  Especially when he thinks his shit is all that, but he is really a boring tard (as in retard) with no life.  Oh, give me a life!  Gimmie, gimmie, gimmie!  Fuck off!  Gee, I am bored wanna come over?  May I come over? Honestly I am busy.  I have to scrub my toilet with my toothbrush and clean between my toes.  Besides, my nose needs picking.  Maybe another time okay?  Meh!

Bitches, is yo ass fat?  Look at me and spend your money trying to be me only yo fat ass will still be fat.  You don’t have to diet or exercise.  Nope, nope, nope.  Eat cheese and stuff that face with burgers and fries and let it drop to your hips and your thighs.  Don’t diet or exercise, just buy the product and wish.  We the producers of the product are laughing our skinny asses off watching you spend, eat, and grow larger and more unhealthy by the moment.  As the fat accumulates around your heart, we laugh.  As your belly and butt swell to the point you can’t exercise and your fat engrossed heart scream to your doctor “SHE IS GOING TO DIE,” we will laugh.  Why?  Because you are sucker.

Little entertaining stories like the above come to mind when I see ads on any site as the ads are made for the gullible.  No woman NEEDS A MAN and if you are a heifer who is stupid enough not to whip yourself into shape, you deserve what you get.  Personally, I am self sufficient and do not need a man also I did lose half my body weight in about a year with sheer will.  You are what you eat and if you want muscle, you have to work out.  My fat ass went from a size 27 to a size 0.  Yo, I was so fat I could not fit in a booth at a restaurant.  Imagine wearing size 4x in a sweatshirt and only having a bit of room?  Imagine having to buy a bigger car for a bigger ass?  Fact Jack!  Don’t worry though, you just sit on your duff hoping for Mr. Wonderful to KEEP you like a princess while you blow up or are blown up.  Yeah...the ads are like smoke blown up your ass to your mind.

Whoa...do you have a scab that needs picking and infection?  I so want to hone in on it and make it bloody fresh. Man, I am so glad I am me!  Whaaaaa wicked! ~ Maggie a/k/a Max, Sabbath, The Widow, Arachne, and G.I. Jane.  Now, kiss my ass. ~ January 7, 2009 @ 10:29 p.m. EST

What do you see?

I am about to go berserk on MYSPACE for fucking up my dates and times. This is posted Jan 7, 2009 @ 6:50 p.m. It better not fuck up again. Okay. I started off "chipper," however, this piece of shit keeps giving January 8 and 12: 50 a.m. as date and time post! MEH. WTF is time? This ass wipe junk shit fuck suck motherless whore of a site is not functioning correctly! Now I am pissed. Let me see if a three hour undercut in time works. Three hours brought me to 7:50 on Jan 7. Let's try for 4 hours.

To some I look like a scum sucking dirt bag, then again, I can be one.  Actually, I have been one and on occasion I still am one.  To some I look like a sweetie pie, then again, I can be one of those too.  To some I look dumb as wood, then again I can act (with reason).  To some on dark streets, I look like a young man (I create the image for reasons).  I can be many things and I am many things: each part is a part of me.  

My makeup is not that of which is held in a cosmetic bag as that really is not my bag AND if one really knows me, it is known I will not do shit to impress anyone.  That is not my style.  My makeup is that of which I am in present form cast from my past making way to my future.

Make-up and Barbie girls:  The land of Barbie girls is not at all appealing as I view it as superficial and asinine.  About a year ago, I did a photo shoot called Portrait of a Barbie Killer.  Yes I do play with real knives, but on this occasion the little plastic girl was a dollar store dummy who legs, arms, and head I only ripped off for fun.  My friend Nathan and I discussed using a quarter stick on the doll to blow it to bits, but as I may want to have use of it again that was not done.  Besides, I don’t want to be out a whole dollar!  Meh.  I am cheap.

My makeup as you can tell is not womanish.  In certain areas...yeah, but come on and let’s get real!  What the fuck is a woman?  She is an inside out man just as a man is and inside woman.  Ah hell, I know I pissed off/made ill some guys about two years ago when I stated that when going down on a woman pretend her clit is a penis.  Yo guys...my opinion has not changed.   So what yours is bigger than mine.  My virtual balls will knock your balls out of the park.  Care for a game of marbles?  I have big ballz and I like to use them.  To anyone questioning, the answer is NO.  I do not have penis envy.  What the hell for?  That would be dumb on my part.  Playing dumb is a good game under certain circumstances as it a powerful tool.

Now back to Barbie girls and this is coming from G.I. Jane.  Not for anything those fluff balls are more trouble than they are worth.  Their maintenance alone is enough to kill you and men die before women anyhow.  (I am loving this.)  Icabruma if she breaks a nail or you miss VD and do not give her a heart and card.  Careful boys as she may celebrate the day with WHINE.  HOW BIZARRE!  Lucy...I’m home!  Oh Ricky I just spent all your hard earned money on a dress.  Aren’t I pretty? WHACK! Ah, good ol’ partner abuse.  Hell, beat each other for a reason.  Have you thought about makeup sexually?  LMFAO

What is my makeup?  I am fucking bizarre and I so love it.  My marshmallow insides are very mushy for me and those I share it with, however, mush can turn to ice cold metal in a heartbeat if I so wish it.  Usually I don’t, but I have, I can, and I will.

My makeup?  It is not so much what you see without: it is what lies within and cannot be seen.  *ROBOTIC VOICE: Shall we play a game?  The child within loves sport.

Can anyone tell that I am in a good mood?  LOL ~ Maggie ~ January 7, 2009 @ 6:35 p.m. EST

Still Looking Through the Eyes of Rembrandt

Although the vision of him is not before me
The image is ingrained with a dark appeal
O how I want to paint like the master
This masterpiece I call man
The man in the form of art
Lying in shadows
Whose breath brings sparkle to heart
Upon his own chest
Twinkling like diamonds
The chain moves and creates a specter prism
O to capture its light!
The light in the dark
A living masterpiece painted in my mind
Working its way to brush and board
When the light is right ~ Maggie ~ Penned January 6, 2009 @ 10:15 a.m. EST

Silent Sleep

My dreams brought me to wake
The calling in the night
Whose dreams roused me to speech
Speak of that which is abstract
There only there does my voice escape
Rounded into waking spaces
Noted but not really understood
Here I sleep in silence
No voice escapes me
No dreams are had
The night now leaves me silent
Whilst the day evokes the unspoken
Its form known but not made
Housed within
Math!  Ah yes!  I know it not
But–after the rainbow comes
The ultraviolet on one
And the infrared/gamma on two
I know not how to show
The liquid silver mercury in spin
Falling over itself in rainbow form
Yet in two areas there is no color
Hail the dawn of a new beginning ~ Maggie ~ Penned January 6, 2009 at 10:00 a.m. EST

Tis But Grace:

Pray thee sound come forth
Littered with play and joy
They grace is noted
And longed for
Harbored in self
The harbor whose water
Lies smooth like glass
Glistening...
Walk upon water I shall
To know more of thee
It is about thee–and only thee
In my selfish altruism
Dost thou see thyself gracing my thoughts?
O pray thee speak again!
Thy tender touch of volume
Just oh so ever real
The volley a wonder
Time passes quickly
In its quickening
I shall see thee yet again
Our bodies pinned in glory
Is the state of our nature
Natural shall we be ~ Maggie ~ Penned on January 6, 2009 @ 9:45 a.m. EST

The Sickle and the Wheat Harvest

Grown over time
Left for this time
Full moon sky shines on the blade
Tis harvest time says the harvester
Aye says his mate
Hands held tightly about the right angle
Angst for sun up
He eyes the fields
Slowly walking toward the ground he laid
Laid when the lands were ready to receive
His mate watches on as the blade rises
Twinkling the reflection of the moon
Swoop, swoop, swoop...
The sound goes off into the distance
Until nothing more is heard
Hours pass before the cock crows
Announcing the rise of sun
Not seeing him
His mate goes into the cut
Where the night had seen the sickle
Not before long he was found
Found amongst the wheat
The sickle planted
Grounding it in such a way
The harvester held to it
Held to it by the wheat around his neck
So tight was its grip
His blue face protruded a swollen tongue
While his blank eyes stared skybound
The full moon warned him so in her twinkle
Never reap before dawn ~ Maggie ~ January 5, 2009 @ 6:54 p.m. EST

The One of a Kind

The one of a kind produced by heart and mind
Is mine and a part of your being
The being who thinks in images and imagines things as thus
Bringing out that which is surely priceless
The holder of the issue hordes the production
Ah, but it is held in my wooden box called “Maggie’s Soul”
Yet a large part of it lies in my heart and mind
As does the giver of the gift
From it all, a larger image is created
Thank you for the creation and all that you are ~ Maggie ~ January 5, 2009 @ 5:43 p.m. EST

Coming to Being

The path from A to B may seem rather linear to an observer, however, within the individual making the thought journey, it is not.  Any simple act elicits a domino effect within using all prior knowledge, wishes, and goals for the approach.  I can’t speak for others, but within self, one object branches off into literally thousands of whole scene scenarios which depict connections, possibilities, negs/pos, probabilities, and alternatives which in themselves go into breakdown categories to outcomes.  Then again, there are times when A comes about, but not thought upon.  No plan is made.  More so the feat is accomplished in baby steps as each one is new.  The bridges are crossed when gotten to.  Only then do the branches come into play as to how to apply knowledge.  If I had to diagram one thought, it would look like a speck center with numerous virtual spokes going in wheel shape then each spoke breaking off into other branches and more branches and even more branches.  Imagine trying to write all that out?  The speed at which it all runs is too vast.  Many of the runnings overlap, tie in, twist, and head off into other directions.  YET the focus is not lost.  Imagine yourself sitting in front of a wall with for example 50 mini television sets and each running something different and you must pay attention to each one.  That would be rather difficult if all are running at once each playing something different.  Within mind, one does not have to view as such and can keep all data and branches in order.  Let’s say you want to do A while thinking about R, M, and Z.  Think of something simple then think of all the steps that you have to make to do A and all possible substeps.  Create a substep list.  Now look at your substep list.  Do you have steps within each substep?  How many super-substeps does it take to make a substep?  Think computer and directories.  Mind you I am not throwing in alternate and various factors as that would twist this simple supposedly linear design.  Moo ha ha! ~ Maggie ~ Penned ~ January 4, 2009 @ 10:33 a.m. EST

His Voice and Our Exchange

Off my chest
My vent was stated in honesty
Not forgotten, but forgiven
Well taken in kind
Walk thee in my shoes
Know what deeds do
Know that pressure does not come from here
Nor ill will
Nor manipulation against will
Love is not force nor pressure
Love is hurting self rather than another

As soothing as satin touching my ear
Teasing elicits glorified chuckles of his victory by
Bringing forth childlike whimpers
Whimpering for turkey on my part
Sumptuous and well made
The scent and flavor oh so remembered
I shall not curse thee not for teasing as thus
Nay for I wish thee well
The enjoyment of the feast
Well envisioned this time
Well remembered the last time

I thank thee for all that you are
Your voice soothes me
The satin/velvet touch of words
The magnification of deeds
Tease and chuckle at my childish whimpers
We play like children
Let us annoy the adults ~ Maggie ~ Penned on January 4, 2009 @ 9:03 a.m. EST

Pondering Megadeth...

THIS POST WILL BE REMOVED ON Monday, January 5, 2009.

Okay so I am sitting her absorbing information while rocking my ass off. I could scratch my ass and roll my eyes, but no. I think of bows and not the pretty ones that are all pink and tied up. I think on the level of a weapon and hunting. I suppose I could buy a bow and figure out how it works, but that is too lame. My primitive side wants the raw deal so that in raw times I won't have to worry about visiting my local ammo store and I will personally know my weapon because I made it. What I do worry about is GAME. Nope, not the one on the television screen either. Game as in wildlife that can and will be used for food. If the fish is poison, go larger on the scale or take your chances. Does the water glow at night? Worms, nice fat juicy night crawlers, and grasshoppers can be used as bait for fresh water bass and if you pop out an eyeball, the fish eye can be used as bait. Do you have an auger and do you know how to make tip-ups for winter fishing? Do you know when it is safe to go out into the middle? LMAO Make yourself a nice little winter lure and have hook line and sinker stinker.

What I have spied here in the past is deer and partridge, however, one can eat frogs so long as frogs are eating so goes the chain. If you think my thoughts are morbid, shame on you. Actually, have you thought what you would do if you had no place to turn except inside? Hell, I would even eat a rat as rats survive just about anything and are plentiful even as death occurs. HELLo rat girl. I think in terms of adventure on a life or death scale. No better way to live. Rebel yell! Wee ha whoot whoot! ~ Maggie ~ Friday, January 2, 2009.

NOTE: I am missing some details, but hell I do want my reader to use their noodle.
This write was and is inspired by Dan who has some rather radical ideas of his own and is what an inventor of weapons. Yo Dan, if you read this it will tie into the song Countdown to Extinction and the jamming duo. I would have posted this on the other site as that is where that tie lies, but as you know it is fudging up and I can't post there.


Perturbed Warning!

In the event I AGAIN find my account fucked with in any way shape or form (ANY and I stress ANY IRREGULARITY) and/or if I receive e-mail that looks like it is coming from me with or without my own avatar, I will hunt down the individual responsible. I am already on the scent of a pattern and frankly it is an imbecilic pattern with two connections. Make that three connections. Your best bet is to face me head on unless you fear me. Do I smell fear? YES on various levels.

NOTE: I am a good hunter. My daughter is familiar with my hunting skills in tracking people. This is not really a warning, this is a promise. You will not even see me coming. You have my promise on that too. I even taught my daughter that one. Wait to strike. Tis best. Do you, whoever you are, really want to war with me? I do love strategic maneuvers on a given mark. Care to temp the hand of fate? ~ Maggie ~ January 2, 2009 @ 3:32 p.m. EST

Editorial note: I prefer peace. However, do not take peace for weakness. It is a grave error to do so. How well do you know your opponent meaning me? I do not know my opponent, but I DO NOT FEAR! I KNOW what vein you are in.

You have violated on several occasions during my absence from a computer (the dates are stored) thus it counts for two hits in a game theory scenario. You have no hits left. Hence the warning before the TAT or storm.

Based on available data, the psych sniff indicates the violator to be an insecure woman of low self-esteem with the mind of an underdeveloped child. However, that excuse will not hold water in my ballpark.

PROOF OF TAMPER in DATE AND TIME. ALSO NOTED IS A YAHOO ADDRESS of arachne106@yahoo.com which does not tally with HERE. Yes I do have hard copies. There are a number of discrepancies and I am not foolish enough to note all of them for anyone.

The Giving of Self - NEVER POSTED

Much was shared in the new and interesting arena.  Much of what I thought would not occur did.  Although I “FEEL” some change based on behavior/actions, at the same time, I see a conflict in behavior which is offsetting the building values to a degree.  I also see two “non-follow through” events.  Two items have been set aside which I deadened myself to.  Only time will tell if the gifts of self are real as are the actions.  At present the pro values seem valid, yet the con values also seem valid.  I weigh and judge to see what happens next.  When will “next” occur and to what degree?  I give merit where merit is due, but demerit where that is due also.  What change I have witnessed and experienced will sit along side  what slights that have transpired.  Both will not be forgotten, but the adverse can be forgiven. Will this happen again?  I refer to the slights.  If so, program terminates to the land of the virtual and hi/bye.  Is this the way I want it?  No, but it will not alter the outcome.  I will not load the dice in my favor.  I want to earn the favor and not obtain it through trickery or pressure.  It will be more real than last time or it won’t.  The batter is up to the plate.  I will pitch three balls and if strikeout occurs, all will remain virtual as after that point, as I cannot go on in this vein mate.

Statements and offers were left without pressure.  The offers were to please without self-hurt.  I do know my limits.  No second burner, no change in plans, it either is or it isn’t.  The choice is yours and only yours.  If three be taken as I stated, then my write is moot both here and there, but love and open doors will remain for life or until a shift occurs that will make expansion/other possibilities dead in the water.

I am thankful for what was shared and the levels they were shared at.  Let us go on. “Stay Awhile.” ~ Maggie ~ 1/1/09 @ 3:12 a.m. EST.