Fantasy Piercing With Alternate Ending

Although she had wanted her hood pierced by her lover, her mention of it to him was only slight and in passing. However, he, being who he was, held that thought and sought to play with the idea.

It was a Wednesday evening and after some pleasurable lovemaking, he tells her to get dressed while he is picking out what she is to wear for the evening: a black velvet mini skirt, black velvet button down top, and black velvet stockings. His choice of shoes were her highest most uncomfortable shoes which would fit a bit more snugly on her foot because of the velvet stockings thus causing a bit more than the usual discomfort. As if picking out another item of clothing, he turns to her and tells her that she best hurry as she has an appointment with the piercer. Upon hearing the news, a twisted look plays upon her face as she had wanted him to do the deed. At once, she fills with excitement and fear upon thinking of the undertaking. In her mind she thought at least he would be there by her side to protect her and watch over her.

As they wait for a taxi, he tells her not to question anything that is to happen tonight and that she is to do whatever he tells her to do without question. She has always trusted him and has no reason to question his request even though his request seems almost foreign to her. Many questions are running though her head and the compulsion to ask is great, yet she holds her tongue out of great respect for his judgement. Apparently he knows something that she doesn't. Upon getting in the cab, he pulls out a black hood and places it over her head as he silently hands the directions to the cabdriver. Quietly, she sits and tries vainly to listen to her surroundings, however, the streets are relatively quieted by her exaggerated breathing, pounding heartbeat, and racing thoughts. She is lost in her own imagination as to what is going on and is not taking into account which way the cab is heading. After about 15 minutes, the cab pulls to a halt and he helps her out to the street. She hears the cab head out of range before he removes the hood.

The streets are quiet on this night as they walk through what would be considered an industrial neighborhood. The rain soaked streets add shine as the moon's fullness reflects its glow onto the lonely couple. Only the sound of her shoes can be heard in echos from the street and surrounding buildings as he walks the pavement like a cat in stealth while he holds her hand in silence.

As they approach the center of the block, he points to an unlit stairway whose bottom is hidden in the darkness below the ground. Still clinging to his hand she makes her way to the top step when he suddenly releases her hand and orders her to go in alone. A mild protest almost makes it out of her mouth when she suddenly remembers her agreement not to question him. However, he really can't expect her to reveal her private parts to a stranger without him present. He would not do that to her or would he?

Deciding to play it out, she moves carefully down the stairs hanging onto the small and seemingly fragile railing. Although the door was not seen from the street above, her eyes adjust to the darkness and she sees the black steel door in front of her which is void of bell or knob. She can make out that a lock is present although it is just a small silver slot where a skeleton key would be put. Not knowing what to do, she looks up the stairs and does not see him there looking down approvingly at her nor did she hear him walk away. At this point, she is unsure as to what to do. Should she try to gain entry into the parlor or should she go above ground and search him out? Once again, she remembers her agreement and knocks lightly on the door as it is almost immediately opened.

Standing before her in a dimly lit hall is a tall muscular man whose torso and upper limbs are covered in what seems to be an ink shirt. Her eyes have only seconds to drink up the initial view of his presence before he escorts her in to the inner sanctum. Allowing her to go first, he tells her to open the first door on her right and to wait there until she is called upon.

The room is a waiting room of sorts whose walls are adorned with pictures of custom tatt jobs as well as various forms of piercing. Normally she would have been curious to inspect the various forms present in detail, however, the discomfort of her shoes leads her to the sole chair in the room. Although she had been to various parlors for tatts and other piercings, this place was a bit different as she was the only one there and there was no piped in music or anything to distract her from her thoughts and at this point she had many. Although she had only seen the man for but a brief moment before she made her way in front of him in the hall, she saw that his face was stern and that he possessed various piercings himself: brow, lip, nose, ears, and nipples.

Making her way to the chair she was wondering where her lover had gone? Where was she? Who was going to pierce her and how would she feel about it? How was her lover going to know when she was finished? The questions were bouncing his her head while the dampness between her legs spread to complete wetness. As it was tradition for her not to wear panties, she had none on his night either, however, she felt more exposed here than anywhere else. She lowers her bottom to the chair and although the skirt keeps some of her bottom off the cold metal of the folding chair, she experiences a chill that quickly warms against her skin as the temperature rises to her face filling her cheeks with blush at her situation.

Her thoughts kept her from noticing that there is a closed door within the room as it is almost flush with the wall, but she could hear some activity come from within. That is the first thing to break the silence of her loud racing thoughts since she entered this domain. Now she thought upon the direct matter at hand as she would have to open herself up to a stranger exposing herself to him something that had been reserved only for her lover and she was not sure how this would actually play out as the idea was almost fantastic. Granted, a piercing only takes but a minute, however, the idea of displaying herself in such a private way to a stranger scared and excited her at the same time. She was not quite sure how she was going to handle the situation. On one hand she did not want to disappoint or fail to do as her lover requested then again she had so many reservations about keeping her body only for him and just him. He was acutely aware of her feelings of shyness so why would he place her in such a manner as to make her feel so awkward. Just as she was trying to come up with answers to her own questions, she heard a voice from behind the door telling her to "enter."

Slowly and teetering within her shoes, she walked over to the door and pushed it open as it too had no knob. The room was completely mirrored from ceiling to floor and within the center was a black leather chair typical of a piercing chair which faced the back wall, a stainless steel tray of instruments, and a small black leather stool with wheels which looked similar to those found in a doctor's examination room. For someone who did not want to be aware of herself, this room made it almost impossible for her not to see herself. Even looking down she could see up her own skirt which meant he could as well. Still in silence, he pointed to the main chair and coached her to sit. Upon sitting, she felt the coolness of the leather against her skin and the pounding of her heart in her head and throat. The silence was driving her mad, yet she did not have the courage to say a word. As if upon cue, the piercer said: "Your Sir has instructed me as to what he wants done. You are to do as I say and not question me." These words brought her heart into her mouth and she was almost choking on his advice. Nervously, she started to shake and at this point her thoughts were so great she could not think to form a full single thought accurately. ~ Arachne 1/19/07 @ 10:24 p.m.

Gearing up for his task, the piercer almost seems to ignore the fact that she is in the same room with him. He goes about organizing his tray, as she studiously watches him. She makes note that he has not even made eye contact with her since she first saw him. It is almost like he does not see her. Like she does not exist.

While these thoughts play in her mind, his doings play like a background program while her eyes watch him vacantly. Her realization that she is acknowledged comes very quick and much to her surprise as he walks along the side of the chair and touches something that makes the chair reel backward forcing her to stare at herself in the mirror above. She sees herself as what appears to be a display whose arms are stretched out over the arms of the chair looking like one with it except for the fact that her hands are gripping the chair to the point of bearing white knuckles. Her legs almost seem invisible as they dangle over the edge of the chair exposing her tightly closed upper thighs which are highly contrasted against the end of her black velvet stockings and the beginning of her black velvet skirt. Widely and wildly, her eyes stare at what seems like the target zone amply magnified via a compartmentalized section. Had her lover planned it out this way? Did he want her not to have anything else to see or think about? Did he want her specifically aware of a specific area of her body that now seemed to be growing larger by the minute?

Suddenly her thoughts were once again grounded to the event as she felt the piercer's gloved hands pull her down lower on the seat which in turn caused her skirt to rise making visible that which she hoped to conceal. The baldness of her mound was peaking out of the bottom of the skirt exposing her present piercings which now seemed larger than life and made her squirm uncomfortably in her chair. The thought of him knowing how wet she was would soon become very apparent as she could feel her juices leaking backward toward the crevice of her ass. ~ Arachne 1/20/07 @ 3:47 a.m.

Since her lover told her of her piercing appointment and gave his instructions, she had only heard the voice of the piercer twice and that was to tell her to "enter" and to obey the instructions that he would give her as they come from her "Sir." For the most part, she had been left in silence and her own thoughts for much of the night wondering about herself, her actions, reactions, and her feelings about the whole situation that she incited simply by stating what she wanted in passing.

Amazingly, she was still captured by her own thoughts and her reflection in the mirror above to notice that the piercer was now standing above her face and looking down at her. Although her heart felt like it was going to burst within her chest, she was quiet and looked up at him like a frightened animal weak and unknowing. His presence was now in her face and although his face appeared upside down, she was getting a real good look at him for the first time. To her, his expression seemed blank, yet something about his eyes gave a knowing glance that make her visibly shake. The eye contact continued for what seemed like an eternity and as much as she wanted to look away and break the stare, she could not. However, the stare was broken by a blindfold that he quickly applied and fastened tightly. Even though her hands released the chair for a brief moment as if to ward off the blinder, her will succumbed and she placed her hands back down on the arms of the chair and doubled her grip.

Now the power of sight was gone and all that was left were minute sounds and her excited and racing thoughts. At this point her heart was not only beating within her chest, throat, and temples, she could feel the throbbing between her legs as well. She was now soaked and could feel the wetness not only on her bottom, but on her legs as well. Her embarrassment was mounting becoming paramount along with her excitement.

As if not being able to see what she was exposing to him and what he was going to do to her was not enough, she felt a strap being placed around her forehead, however, it was not fastened on her. Rather it was fastened to the chair making her unable to lift her head. Once her head was made stationary, she felt a similar strap being applied to one of her writs and then to the other. Now, the only moveable parts of her were her supported hips and unsupported legs which still dangled over the edge of the chair.

Intense fear and equally intense sexual fantasy were working their magick within her mind playing out all kinds of scenarios as that is all she had left save for what she could hear over the thumping of her heart. Although she was still listening for his movements, the room suddenly became very quiet and sound was replaced with feeling: the feeling of his bare hands that were firmly gripping her legs.

Still tightly holding her thighs together, she could feel the muscles becoming sore from her efforts to keep them closed. Abandon was wanted, but she felt that she could not let go. Who was this man and what was he doing to her? Why did her lover leave her this way? Slowly, his hands slid along her inner thighs gently pushing her legs outward while making their way upward to push what little remained of the skirt out of the way. Now he would see the result of her excitement that she had been hiding between closed thighs and there was nothing she could really do about it. Even if she were to scream out, who would hear her in this area of town? It was not like she was in a populated area nor was she above ground. There was nothing she could do except let happen what was going to happen. She now felt the piercer's legs between hers, however, the velvet stockings kept her from knowing what he felt like. Slowly, his hands made their way upward feeling her body through her clothes until he reached her buttons.

By this time, she could not hold back what she had been suppressing. She could hear her breathing become quick and could feel her hips gyrating as if looking for him. By this time his hands were holding her bare breasts and tweaking her pierced nipples. Maybe it was her reaction to his advances that caused him to stop touching her, but it suddenly stopped as quickly as it had begun. She was still laying there legs spread on a wet seat breasts exposed and as horny as hell. If she could have reached to touch herself at this point, she would have brought herself to orgasm as she was on the verge anyway. One little touch is all she needed.

She heard what sounded like the tray being moved and could hear his activity around her. As to what would happen next, she knew not. However, it would not take long for her to find out. As if she were a rag doll, he simultaneously lifted her legs and placed them over her writs leaving her wide open to do as he wished. If she had to envision what she could not see, her mind's eye showed her that her pussy was swollen, wet, and open to him. Again he was between her legs only this time she could feel his bare skin against hers and the first pierce was about to begin. Before she had much time to think, his cock pierced her pussy and he was inside her, but not all the way. Regardless, she could feel the walls of her pussy contracting around his cock as she had her first climax.

His fingers were now readying her hood for piercing and just as the needle went through the skin so did he sink deeper within her and stayed deep within until he had fastened the ring. Once fastened, he starting fucking her as hard as he could. Her orgasms were coming one after the other and her wetness was now causing her bottom to slide around in the chair. His grip on her shoulders were digging deep within her flesh and his sweat was dropping onto her already sweaty bare flesh. She could hear him breathing heavier and feel him pumping faster as the tension was mounting in both their bodies and explosion was happening. She could feel his cock jerk inside her to mark that he had cum, however, her contractions were still trying to milk him dry. In addition, her hips were still gyrating as she so enjoyed the moment of it all.

Beneath the blindfold her eyes were closed and she was lost in an array of sexually deviant thoughts that this night had produced. The biggest question that was at the forefront of her mind was the question of her lover. Where was he and why did he do this? Just as the question had been posed within the framework of her mind, she felt the release of the blind, but did not open her eyes. The piercer was still inside her and she did not want to face him for reasons of her own. Upon hearing the words "thank you for trusting me," she opened her eyes and saw her lover. ~ Arachne 1/20/07 @ 7:10 p.m.

NOTE: It is truly amazing what suggestion can do and how the mind operates in conjuring images from the most simplistic thought. ~ Arachne

Listening to: Bogart! ~ Rock N' Roll Cabaret

Fantasy Piercing ALTERNATE ENDING Part 1

Usually, I can't live without Chapstick moisturizing my lips, but on this day the thought of the glossy wetness of my lips reminded me of the wetness of self. It would seem that I have gone into heat in the worst of ways. Normally, I am very sexual in nature, however, I am paying special attention to a repeating cycle. It would seem that this time of year places me in sexually higher gear. Now that I have established this fact, I would like to know why this occurs.

Lips: A rose opening in time lapse photography glistening with the moistness of a morning's dew. A woman's painted mouth glistening with crimson color of the unnatural kind made predominant by Revlon or Maybelline. The biting of one's own lips in the heat of passion made wet with saliva. Where does the beauty lie?

Thoughts behind the writing:

Imagine if you will the silence of my work environment as I block out the sound of the TV with my mind and focus on my fantasy. My pen moves across the page as images spill forth in my mind causing me to moan quietly as I close my eyes to feel the moment. Can anyone tell what is going on in my mind by the blush on my face or the tone in my voice? Does my pulse show in my neck or temples to give away the speed of my heart? No one can see me squirm in my seat as I write nor hear me vocalize my passion. However, it is being done. The gentle "hum" that I produce adds to my excitement and I can feel the wetness build as I take my journey.

Although this fantasy started sometime last week, pieces are being added to the original scenario that I painted in my mind while enjoying a nice warm shower. Actually, this morning's shower brought something to my attention that I had never noticed before. There is a redness about my body that goes from my head to my feet. The afterglow of the experience is visible in my cheeks, neck, and chest caused by the heat of the moment. However, the water burns going the length of my legs also bears witness to the experience. Each is formed differently, yet the color is the same.
The fuel is burning and the fire of imagination is endless and wonderful.

Fantasy Piercing: ALTERNATE ENDING Part 1:

Beneath the blindfold her eyes were closed and she was lost in an array of sexually deviant thoughts that this night had produced. The biggest question that was at the forefront of her mind was the question of her lover. Where was he and why did he do this? Just as the question had been posed within the framework of her mind, she felt the release of the blind, but did not open her eyes. The piercer was still inside her and she did not want to face him for reasons of her own. Upon hearing the words of her lover coming from behind the chair and feeling his hands upon her face, she looked up and saw him grinning down at her while the piercer was still inside her. His grin was a knowing grin one that could read the guilt all over her face. One that knew she enjoyed what she had been experiencing thus far and even if her words were to deny the fact, her physical aspects would have given her away. Surrender was her only real option and at this point as she was so well into it there was no turning back. With the piercer still inside her, he thrust his cock deep within her a few more times in a mocking fashion before pulling out of her well played pussy.

Her lover glanced at him as if to say job well done while at the same time he seemed to look around the room as though seeking approval for his own efforts. As her head and arms were not yet mobile, she could only see his reflection as it played out in the ceiling above her. Although she wanted to speak, to say something about the events that just occurred, silence fell upon her and she decided to submit to his will: whatever his will might be.

This night was not over as there was much more in store for his little lovely

So many fantasies had been uttered in bed as she visualized wilder possibilities. She had been feeding him her ideas for as long as she could remember, but she never imagined...

A seam had not been seen in the mirrored environment. The seam that suddenly opened and left a spot of blackness in the reflective wall. She could suddenly hear voices coming from the opening and looked up as if to ask her lover why. With a smirk, he glanced down at her while he released her restraints. Although she was in the process of being released, she did not move a muscle to either put her legs nor skirt down. It was as though she was still bound by him. When he had completed his task, he put her legs down off her arms and placed the chair in an upright position.

His silence was killing her, yet she still could not bring herself to say a word. In all reality, what could she say: what could she do. He had taken over her very being and she was now like clay in h is hands to be mold into a from he saw fit.

He walked over to the piercing tray and took a thick leather collar and placed it around her neck fastening it securely. Then he reached over and grabbed the leash which he would use to lead her into the darkness within the wall. During the course of their relationship, she had disclosed many fantasies to her lover yet, at the same token, she had expressed her fear of acting them out. It was like he was taking the responsibility of the action(s) upon himself leaving her without the guilt of actively participating. Her body was there, but her will was gone as she belonged to him.

After attaching the leash to the collar, he gave her a nod as if to say "come with me." She lifted herself off of the sex soaked chair with her stockings now half way down her calves and her top wide open, she followed him through the opening in the wall toward the voices. Surrounding the piercing room was antechamber whose walls were painted black and adorned with candle filled sconces that gave the hall a very erotic and gothic feel. The smell of incense and sex played heavily within her nostrils causing her to almost foam at the mouth. Upon entering this domain, she noticed that from this hall the entire piercing room could be seen via the two way mirror that engulfed it. Her heart was racing ahead of her noisy heels as they hit the tiled floor, yet above the sound of her steps she could hear the voices booming in her ears. Upon going a few feet into this realm, another sub-chamber was come upon within this subterranean parlor. As if upon cue, the voices ceased as she entered the mouth of the room.

From what her eyes could drink in, there were four five foot tall candelabra each with their own corner of the room. A blank zone existed where instruments of pain and pleasure hung on the wall. The audience left that area void of presence as if to say "look at what we have," however, the details could not be distinguished due to the camouflaged blend of black on black. The only hint of their existence was the little metal hooks that held them up. Those in attendance stood quietly along the wall and watched as her lover lead her into the center of the room. Gently he gave her leash a tug and pointed downward. Obediently, she got onto her knees and awaited his next command. The hardness of the floor caused great discomfort in her knees, yet she held her ground without complaint. Her lover suggestively pointed to his belt for her to undo it which she gladly did with nervous anticipation. Cautiously, she opened his belt and undid his zipper while she focused her attention on the bulge that waited beneath his clothes. She so wanted to taste him and she could feel the hunger grow within herself. The thought of an audience would have previously frightened her was now adding fuel to her burning desires. Stepping out of his pants, he pulled her head over to his hard cock. Although she longed take the length of his shaft with one mighty swoop, she awaited his advice as she adjusted her stance on the floor to make herself as effective as possible. She had to remember she had an audience now. One that not only saw her, but one that she could see. Several times she sought to bring her hands up to his body for both support and touch, but each time he made her place her arms back down at her sides. This awkward stance caused her great discomfort as she so tried to please him. As her body seemed in an almost unnatural state, all the work her mouth was doing on his cock was made possible by the agility of her body and head rocking. Skillfully, she was able to take the full length of his shaft as he so liked to be within her throat knowing that his cock cuts off her air supply for moments at a time. Her hard work was pleasing him which in turn pleased her.

The wetness that had soaked the piercing chair now ran down her legs and her excitement was growing. She longed to taste his cum in her mouth as she wanted the reward of her services as well his strong hands on her body.

Movement was starting to occur within the room as the faceless individuals started coming closer. While still giving him head she felt something stiff and leather rubbing her inner thigh and gently pushing her to open her legs. Whatever shame she had was left in the mirrored room. A room that allowed her to focus on her most private area: an area that she had only given to her lover. An area that was open for all to see as her lover gave her to the piercer and was now going to give her to others.

While still sucking on his cock, the leather object glided up and down her thighs occasionally stopping and touching upon her wet spot. Two individuals were coming toward her, and as they did, they dropped their robes. The two women stood along side of her lover and looked down upon her as she worked her mouth over his hot thick cock. She witnessed their hands going through the hair on his chest while they ground their naked flesh onto his. The idea of these women touching he lover was driving her wild and not in a bad way either. The view from her level sought even greater fantasies, but the evening was not over. Who could say what would happen. Her reward was about to be delivered to her she could feel his cock stiffen and swell even more than before just prior to his explosive orgasm in the back of her throat. Hungrily, she swallowed it and sought to be filled again. Like the Cheshire Cat, she sat back and grinned at him. ~ Arachne 2/3/07 @ before 9:00 p.m.

If this sucks, please let me know as I am talking out of my ass here. The ideas that bounced and played around in my head like a film were much better than I could write.

Hum...

It is interesting how people twist things so that they feel better about what they have done. Yet in the long run, they may realize what they have done and how they have wronged someone. In the end, everything comes out. Sure you can twist and hide things from others, but you can't hide them from yourself. Eventually, if you are honest with yourself, the face staring back in your mirror will say "what have I done?" The realization and words may come, but no one will hear it. ~ Arachne 2/2/07 @ 4:27 p.m.

Ah hem. Let me note this for the record: I am a scumbag, lowlife, con artist, and thief, but at least I know it and I can look at myself in the mirror. I don't worry about my reflection screaming back at me.

A note to my daughter:

I do love you, however, I will not tolerate what is going on. Specifics need not be gone into, as you know the REAL deal. It has come to what it has come to, yet, still being true to form, I will not rub your nose in anything as it is not my style and you know that. Let sleeping dogs lie and the fleas will get to them. Silence is louder than words. Do you hear me? ~ Mom 2/1/07 @ 7:58 p.m.

*This was not mailed to my daughter. She is reading my blog, but she is blocked from contacting me.

The Future of Favors:

Perhaps I am too nice in some respects when it comes to friends and family. However, in the future, I will limit/cease from doing for others because it seems that the simple act of reciprocation and/or acknowledgment is not had. I don't mind going out of my way for someone, if the act can be acknowledged and/or reciprocated. Utilizing past track records of others, I will place restrictions on whom I will do for and on whom I will not do for. Perhaps I could bend a bit, however, participation and cooperation will be prerequisites to any undertaking. I will use the famous and familiar words that we all can relate to: "DO UNTO OTHERS AS YOU WOULD HAVE THEM DO UNTO YOU." I will use my past experience(s) to base my future judgement(s). Enough said on that matter. ~ Maggie 1/28/07 @ 1:34 a.m.

The Cut of Family Ties

As I so hate to deal with shit, I have disassociated myself from two closest family members (close in blood that is). My mother and daughter have gotten on my last nerve and now they can both go to hell and enjoy the ride. Today, when I told my daughter to lose my number, she remarked in a mocking manner: "You will be all alone." Shit! That is a laugh. I don't NEED anyone. It will be life as usual WITHOUT the added bullshit. To me that is seen as a benefit. My daughter has been deleted and blocked on every area of the internet and none of her calls will be answered. As for mommy dearest, she too, although not on the internet, is not having any calls returned, however, that has been an ongoing thing.

Don't get me wrong as I do love them, however, I don't need their judgmental shit in my face. Therefore, it is best that ties be severed. My daughter knows what an ICE PRINCESS I can be and how I can shut it all down. Well shut down is finished and so is the relationship. I will not buckle, however, I bet they do at some point. If not, oh well shit happens. C'est la vie! I truly don't give a rat's ass. ~ Maggie 1/25/07 @ 11:11 p.m.

Indifference

Realization starts in the pit of your stomach and works its way up to your brain. It is only upon thought and rational judgement that decisions can be made with justification. As such, this little spider has decided to chill in her web and wait for the cleansing of rain at dawn.

Detachment of attachment does serve a purpose from a psychological point of view especially when dealing with individuals not yet met. A bond of sorts can be had on various levels of interest, but the heart is another matter. Interest in a potential mate (a spark or ignition can be had, yet something can be missing from the equation) does not call for nor necessitate a buildup nor a release of emotions. This could be viewed as me being indifferent and I would say "quite right!" However, logic plays into this equation as the thought of attaching to someone/something that may not be or will not be could be harmful to the psyche if it is allowed to be. With the right mind set, one can be aloof and not allow for emotional involvement. This could be viewed as "safe mode" or it could be viewed as smart.

The road of falling for someone in cyberspace was had before and my heart was extended and handed back to me. That is fine in itself as it was a stepping stone of knowledge that lead me to where I am now. Thus, I am ever grateful for the lesson well learned. As stated on more than one occasion, all negative situations have positive attributes that can and will contribute to the fiber/fabric of the individual who has experienced the situation. ~ Maggie 1/25/07 @ 3:33 p.m.

Hopefully this weekend will find me with my bud(s) hanging and having a good time. Maybe next week I will contact my cousin Mikey and get the address of the guy who does custom tatts and treat myself to a work of art.

Arachnids: The Spider and The Scorpion

The black widow may weave webs in due course
And trap prey to feed upon, yet...
The scorpion had the ability to trap her
Although many battles were had
She was able to withstand him
Perhaps understand him
Can it be that the toxins that were shared between these two
Caused immunity from death on both parts?
Neither bearing poison to the other
But rather causing glorious intoxication?
If the battles could occur again,
venenum e venenum delectare
The Black Widow lurks in netherworlds, yet the trap is above board
The deceit of scorpion's tail, while behind him, also lies below
Put these two together and there will be a show ~ Maggie 1/23/07 @ 11:13 p.m.

*THIS WRITE IS ABOUT MAX (The Widow) AND DREW (The Scorpion).

Murder in Progress - Behind the Scenes Thinking.

I have ideas for this story, but this is just what I have in my brain so far. What I am looking to figure out is how to commit a vicious murder that will be deemed an accident. Hum. What to do. It may come to me and then again it may not. I have an interesting poison technique, however, I don't know that it has been done before, so I will keep that to myself. Snicker.

Gliding silently down the 13 steps to avoid detection, she effortlessly opened the door and stepped out into the cool night air. Finally, she could breath deeply, as the monster who had for so long rendered her helpless was dead. She was dying inside and although she coped for many a long years, her preoccupation with his demise always played out in her mind. Often she wondered how she could get away with his murder. Plans were hatched and thought upon, but never played out as upon further inspection, a flaw in her device was found. How could she make it look like an accident when she so wanted to butcher him? To have him die without pain before her eyes would surely serve her no benefit as she sought revenge.

He was a tall burley man with a gristled look. His collection of swords, knives, and guns were beautifully mounted for all to see, however, rare occasion saw him utilize his intimidation methods on welcomed, but disliked guests. His sadistic nature was not limited to her. He sought out fear in all those that knew him, yet a refusal to attend a "bash" as he termed it, was never had. ~ Maggie 1/15/07
1/18/07 ~

Ok Rob this is the gist of it. A woman who has lived the life of a psychologically and physically battered woman decides that she wants to retaliate against her sadistic and overpowering husband. She decides to poison him with oleander via a cookout and will put the dried twigs, leaves, and petals in amongst the rest of the wood for the fire. The carbonized poison will attach itself onto the meat that he will eat and thus the meat will carry the poison.

Background on the man is above. He is an evil bastard who enjoys being sadistic towards everyone in his path. As everyone fears him even his supposed friends (employees) who he often enjoys tormenting with rounds of Russian roulette using live ammo, he holds their livelyhood over their heads as well as what he knows about them. He is a blackmailer amongst other things. He is their meal ticket thus they obey, but hate him.

His business: He is a contractor who has underworld connections. As he usually has others do his dirty work, his hands are clean (at least it is so believed) as there are no paper trails. Murder, blackmail, drugs, robbery, intimidation, and fraud are some of his sideline jobs. Call him a mastermind or puppet master.

She is a smart cookie who has done research based on his weaknesses. He is a meat lover and he has had a few heart attacks.

What better scenario could be cooked up than to have a cookout with all of his enemies present and accounted for. As she has seen over the course of time to make sure that he eats first, so it shall be that the king will be watched upon his throne as he gobbles the fowl or steak hungrily filling his gut while the poison attacks his system.

As she has had time to plot this scenario, she has laid the foundation of her cutting back on her intake of foods and the type of foods she eats. This would ward off suspicion, however, she would have a bit of the poison food as would everyone else. As she is the hostess with the mostest, she serves others with salad and soups first. With so many present who hate him, the web of who done it would widen. She does not tell anyone of her plot as loose lips sink ships.

The acquirement and keeping of the plants: Store bought years back cash payment and no cameras in the store. The plants were planted around their summer home and looked absolutely beautiful when in full foliage. All plants are hidden in plain sight. There is nothing like playing stupid and she is real good at looking like the fool. Her research was originally done years back when she was curious about different types of poisons and she did her research within library books and not on the net. She did not look up poisons per se as that is too obvious. However, a sweet view into encyclopedias did her a world of wonders. This little bit will ensure that there is no trace of her searching for poisons on the net. Even if you delete files on your computer, the ghosts of what has been deleted remains for the authorities.

Caution is used when breaking off and leaving the twigs around the grounds as all must appear natural. Her foots steps as well as his and the guests are all around the encampment. Prior prunings have been left on the ground to act as mulch as she had done for years. Whether it was good mulch or bad is not an issue as that is where dumb comes in handy. You may ask why not have a gardener for the grounds? Alas, this poor woman did not have a life and took to loving her blooming garden of device as she was a KEPT woman. Therefore, her actions would not seem out of the ordinary. Alas, patience is a virtue by which all women should live.

More to come as I feel inclined.

I need to work on how to get the twigs and other matter in without detection. Perhaps I can pull a Iago and have someone else gather it without their knowing. I'll work on that.

Additives for the character mixture:

Something in her character was twisted into being during her formative years wherein she felt that she was different from others. This was not just a matter of mental state as it was also a physical state. For the greater part of her life, she lived in a shroud and had to keep all that happened in her life to herself as though it was some deep dark secret that would destroy her. In essence she was right. What was showing on the outside was a docile, sweet, kind, and considerate woman. However, what was lurking beneath the surface was a cauldron that was boiling over with rage. The only thing that held the rage back was the purpose and the purpose was the big get even. This was a sure fire element to her plan as no one had seen her inner nature. It was not so much that she was deceptive as she was just being herself as she had always been seen. What lurked inside, she held close to her little black heart that drew upon all her past experiences to bring her to the point she was at.

When she met ? (I need a name), she saw an opposite reflection of herself within him and hoped that some of him would rub off on her. She saw strength and confidence in him that she could not find within herself. At least not yet. He was her protector, while at the same time he was her tormentor. This was not too far off from what she was used to in childhood so it felt safe. Perhaps that is what attracted her to ? (I still need a name).

If you have questions on this, it means I did not cover some ground. Hit me with them if you have them. No stone should be unturned. We are talking about murder here. A PERFECT MURDER which is well founded and thought upon. ~ Maggie

This morning's dream... *Clarification made

From what I can remember of the dream this morning, I was driving around Brooklyn by myself wearing a dress or something as I had access to myself. It was like I was like I was lost as nothing seemed familiar, except the fact that it was Brooklyn. I remember making a wide turn on some block, but I don't know where I was at. What caused me to make the wide turn was something that I did. That something was very uncharacteristic of me and that was to put a finger in myself while driving to see if I had my *period. That is odd all in itself and weird to boot. I did not have it so I wiped my finger on a napkin. That too is uncharacteristic as I usually lick my finger. *Clarification: I never check to see if I have my period by the method indicated within my dream or any other way. I just get it and that is it. What I meant by the licking of my finger is that if and when I finger myself, I suck it clean and never wipe it anywhere on anything. That whole scenario was just WEIRD. Next thing is that I am somewhere at some sort of place and he is there.

He and I are sitting on a couch, but it is not a place I know or have ever seen. As I look at him, there is mustard on his nose and he asks me to wipe it off. I then pull out the same napkin I used to clean my finger and I clean the mustard off his nose which is followed by a kiss. This gentle nose kiss is followed by me forcefully pushing him down with passionate kisses as I grind into him. That is when I feel his hands on my hips pulling me tighter into him. In the course of his excitement, he removes his pants and I watch like a hungry animal viewing dinner.

His top is a strange kind of blue which was sort of padded in lines like a 16th century type of velvet top only his was not velvet nor was it a replica of that type of top. It was different. Imagine the priest type of tops of the 70's the collar type of top. Also, the blue was not a deep rich blue...it was kind of washed out and the padding was minimal and not fancy. His pants were black. Although we were in a room, the contents of the room are not in memory nor is the color of the couch. It was just like nothing else existed but he and I.

After his pants were off, I crawled up between his legs back toward his face and once again started kissing and grinding into him. Again, his hands were on my hips and I was going crazy. That is when I woke up. Bummer huh?

Can anyone interpret this? ~ Maggie 1/18/07 @ 2:29 p.m.

A Poem

Fair angel who hast not been touched by religion
O cherub winged and glorious
Thy beauty hosts from within and without
To concur forming one
One radiant beam of light that casts out
Darkness in the most inaccessible recesses
Making brilliant that which was dull
Exploring that which had yet to be explored
Accepting that which most would put asunder
Being god angel and man child in one
O mighty splendor let me cast an eye to thee
Caricature mine eye to that of a globe
My pupil dilates and is regulated by what is shown
Maximizing in the dark for greater range and
Minimizing in the light
Expand upon me what you will
However, grant me audience so to capture as did Raphael ~ Arachne 1/13/07 @ 10:45 p.m.

Someone Sweet

Sweet gentle prince of men
Grant a touch of thy finger to my tea
That thine essence pure may be transferred
Stir about it gingerly
Nay, thou shares nothing bittersweet or pseudo
As the taste plays happily and lingers on my buds and in my mind
Ne'er changing its nature
Proof in the pudding is proof in the pie
Cake or crust dost crumble
Yet thou hold solid and true
Undeniably, thou art pure to form
Thou art akin to the sweetness of cane and comb ~ Maggie 1/13/07 @ 8:35 p.m.

UNTITLED

At odds myself vastly I hold yet wager
That misfortune shall not lay hand upon me
'Tis time spent educationally so that bears merit to my course
A course that hones and owns within my breast
One can'st lose what one ne'er possesses
Do I speak of a heart?
There hath been hollowness of cavity prior
Thus echos still resonate to reason
Wherefore I allow access, only I cause and artfully array
Or...disarray
At will
Strategically speaking,
There lies no villainous treachery
No ill will
No rebuke
Far more reason looms thus its cries are heard
More effectively so than booms of cannon fire
Nature need not be hidden under a theatrical mask
Of frown or glad nature where none exists
Exposure to the elements does fine work indeed!
The reflected spectacle of mine own minds eye
Tells a great many stories that upon further inspection
Reveal truth
At the helm and steering into shallow waters
Hoping to go out to sea ~ Maggie 1/13/07 @ 9:07 a.m.

PIERCED

Usually I don't have a problem running on my treadmill, however, yesterday when I put the speed up to 6 mph and was not wearing a bra, I realized that I have a bit of a problem. No, it is not because I am sporting whoppers. Actually, I don't have much bounce to the ounce.

The problem, if I can even call it that, stems from having my nipples pierced. It would seem that in addition to a cool breeze, running brings about wild feelings all over my body. I can't say that it is occurring because it is new as I have had the piercing since December 22. Also, it is not like I don't like the feeling as I do, however, it does not mesh well with a workout. Doing the bouncy bouncy thingy in other ways could make the feeling more appropriate. A mental and physical note is made on that matter.

If there is anyone else out here who has had their nipples pierced, please let me know if these wonderful sensations stay or is it happening because I was super sensitive to begin with. The constant erect nipple thingy is excellent too.

Women, don't be afraid to have it done as it is so great you will want to be out in a cool breeze and bounce like mad. Just imagine all the millions of little tingles running through your body. Hell, that is reason enough to go get them done. ~ Maggie 1/13/07 @ 2:51 a.m.

NOTE: I LOVE MY NEW HEIGHTENED AWARENESS. Even a loose fitting top without a bra is now exciting!!!! I do want more piercings and hope that in the future, my "lover to be" will do the more exotic and erotic ones for/to me. It has been done several times in the past, therefore, it can be done again. No fear here. HELL YEAH I WANNA GO FOR IT!

LISTENING TO: THE DAGGERS: Right Between the Eyes ~ She Told Me She Said

BURNERS. An encryption to myself.

It is best to keep the burners on low to avoid scorched pots and nasty spillage due to boil over. Such can happen when dealing with liquid, however, when dealing with solids such as meat, the product can become charred, tough, and not worthy of eating. Thus it is best to keep the burner at low to moderate levels to avoid potential damage to the machine (stove), tool (pot or pan), or product (i.e., meat).

Also, when you watch your rice properly, it will not stick to the pot when it is ready. ~ Maggie 1/11/07 @ 3:26 a.m.

KINKY SEX MAKES THE WORLD GO 'ROUND

Jan 10, 2007

Art is a reflection of reality if one really looks. ~ Arachne

DEAD KENNEDYS / GIVE ME CONVENIENCE OR GIVE ME DEATH

1987 - Alternative Tentacles Records
 

Greetings…This is the Secretary of War at the State Department of the United States…We have a problem. The companies want something done about this sluggish world economic situation…Profits have been running a little thin lately and we need to stimulate some growth…Now we know there's an alarmingly high number of young people roaming around in your country with nothing to do but stir up trouble for the police and damage private property. It doesn't look like they'll ever get a job…It's about time we did something constructive with these people…We've got thousands of 'em here too. They're crawling all over…

The companies think it's time we all sit down, have a serious get-together—And start another war…The President? He loves the idea! All those missiles streaming overhead to and fro…Napalm…People running down the road, skin on fire…The Soviets seem up for it…The Kremlin's been itching for the real thing for years. Hell, Afghanistan's no fun…So whadya say?…We don't even have to win this war. We just want to cut down on some of this excess population…

Now look. Just start up a draft; draft as many of those people as you can. We'll call up every last youngster we can get our hands on, hand 'em some speed, give 'em an hour or two to learn how to use an automatic rifle and send 'em on their way…Libya? El Salvador? How 'bout Northern Ireland? Or a "moderately repressive regime" in South America?…We'll just cook up a good Soviet threat story in the Middle East—we need that oil…We had Libya all ready to go and Colonel Khadafy's hit squad didn't even show up. I tell ya…That man is unreliable. The Kremlin had their fingers on the button just like we did for that one…

Now just think for a minute—We can make this war so big—so BIG…The more people we kill in this war, the more the economy will prosper…We can get rid of practically everybody on your dole queue if we plan this right. Take every loafer on welfare right off our computer rolls…Now don't worry about demonstrations—just pump up your drug supply. So many people have hooked themselves on heroin and amphetamines since we took over, it's just like Vietnam. We had everybody so busy with LSD they never got too strong. Kept the war functioning just fine…

It's easy. We've got our college kids so interested in beer they don't even care if we start manufacturing germ bombs again. Put a nuclear stockpile in their back yard, they wouldn't even know what it looked like…So how 'bout it? Look—War is money. The arms manufacturers tell me unless we get our bomb factories up to full production the whole economy is going to collapse…The Soviets are in the same boat. We all agree the time has come for the big one, so whadya say?!?…That's excellent. We knew you'd agree…The companies will be very pleased. 

http://www.sing365.com/music/lyric.nsf/Kinky-Sex-Makes-the-World-Go-'Round-lyrics-Dead-Kennedys/F3B12A0BA6181E1B48256AD6002C2772

CONSULT YOUR FRIENDLY NEIGHBORHOOD MICROBE

It sickens me to heart that this fine land of ours is one day going to be barren. As barren as an old woman's womb. We are killing this planet with our selfish ways and I do not see that it is going to stop. Look around as the comfort you think you have is slowly slipping away. Maybe you have felt the heat and maybe you haven't. The climate is starting to shift and before long the warm water current that flows in our ocean will turn cold. When that happens, the eco system will be fucked and the ice age will once again hit us. Will we be frozen solid like the mastodons with food still in our mouths? Who will stuff us and put us on display? Consult your friendly neighborhood microbe as that may be more intelligent life than what we have now. ~ Maggie 1/9/07 @ 9:36 p.m.

Listening to: The English Teeth, Aural Atrocities 1874 - 2002 ~ Kween Mutha

A Letter:

I was watching a show on The History Channel and it also spoke of global warming and the earth's destruction. There are many ways the world could be destroyed, however, if someone or something does not destroy the "COMPANY" the "COMPANY" will kill us all. Maybe microbes will still exist and maybe another life form will be established, but all life as we know it will be extinct in the name of the almighty dollar. There has to be people out there that want this stopped as bad as I do. The end may not come in our time, but we need to think of future generations. The cement age needs to be destroyed and those in charge need to fail. With things as they are, you may see another Atlantis or many new Atlantis cities under water and lost forever as bodies of land will sink below the water upon the melt down. People know of the problem, but the government and companies want to stick with money and power. The sad part is that many people feel that there is nothing they can do. This is not true. If we all chip in and do our part, we can change things. The problem is how many people will jump on the band wagon to rid ourselves of our present prison? The comfort of protection is an illusion and will show it's true colors eventually when it cannot be hidden from the public any longer. Even the stupid will wake up and realize that problems are arising with our earth that will cause our demise. How far will we let it go before we revolt and take over to start again...start anew? It is hoped that we have the ability to gather great audiences and have them join a cause that will free them from their unrecognized slavery and inevitable destruction. ~ December 27, 2006 @ 8:30 p.m. EST

Some of my notes while away:

How can piercing of a body bring about feelings of life? Tingling erections are a part of life that bring sexual pleasure without being touched as arousal comes from being and the natural art of doing. The blowing of the wind on such a wonderful occasion can cause unusual noises to spill forth and make others wonder what is going on inside the individual who is making such vocal nuances.

Pounding heart and racing thoughts...the stealing of breath like a cat from a baby.

My power does not go undaunted, yet I reserve the right to starve. Starve for that which I crave the most and hunger for in the most perverse way. Innocence lacks guile to please the curiosity. The mind forever breaking boundaries that the body holds in check. The confirmation of one's acceptance of another helps to feed the imagination and thus the spirit. I don't fit in the regular world and I feed off myself for now yet I long for the life of the living looking at the need and want factors.

Stabs in the dark and lost feelings of decay bring life. I do now realize that I do feed off others for my own perverse pleasure. However, I note that touch is not necessary as the mind has so much power that simple words cause wings of thoughts and behaviors ranging from childlike innocence to murderous cunning. My friend was so right in his assessment of me being a natural taker of energy, but this energizer bunny needs more.

Happy music - tatt on forehead - wicca star - fangs - Dragon - piercing in face - Blessed Be! Answer: I don't believe in anything but me. I am a weird magnet.

Shit is going on stranger than I can think about. Recognition is only coming afterwards, but recognition is had so I will see where it goes.

How does one maintain youth? Feed off the young!

A note to Grace:

We feed off each other more than we know. You gave me the balls to do something by being there and holding my hand in the most literal sense. You have always been my friend. I, in turn, showed you great things that opened your eyes. A true friendship has always been there. Grasp the tail of the phoenix. Born from the ashes we are anew! Black winged goddess of Osiris see the eve of Eve within the spider's dwelling. Mike was so right about me being the sick bitch behind it all.

Mortal things cease to exist, yet common ground is almost a scent. Watch a wildebeest wait upon the lioness. Watch the wildebeest put up the fight of it's life.

Fangs poison sharp pierce life alive. - Written prior to Dec. 27th, 2006 Posted on Jan. 6, 2007

The Dangerous Me - Dissociative Disorder - The Three Me

Max is dangerous, but she is one of three sides of me. Although I am now one within myself, I realize that Max on her own is a total  bad scene and is the most dangerous of my characters. Max is street smart and knows how to fight, kill, and take a beating. The other two are Maggie and Margaret. Maggie is educated, well spoken, and polite. Margaret is the beaten child who looks for love anyway she can get it and seeks approval from others. All my characters now exist in one shell and do not separate. However, their flaws and strengths still exist within me and are part of me.

Deep within my heart I know my capabilities to do harm to others and this side of my nature has always scared me as it is a part of me that is wild and furious...a side whose anger is black and killer hostile. A side of me that requires 5 men to calm me down or hold me down. Murder plots have been thought upon and dropped when the levels of anger have dropped. However, the dark side, "Max," lives within me. She/I knowing where kill zones are on a body are and knowing when to strike do not help matters of this nature. When in Max mode, I am crazy. Crazier than poor Arthur who would not hurt a soul. To say that my mind is not cunning and artful would be a lie. To say that jealousy does not exist would be a lie. However, my prudy green eyes only see black on one small level...a very tiny level that is all too important to me that could send me into a murderous rage and I would attack as many people as possible to release it. This rage can be hit in two ways: protecting a loved one (loved one includes self-preservation) and jealousy. I don't think I need to explain the protection of a loved one. Jealousy shall be explained. Most women would get crazy on higher levels, but I realize that men are just mammals who sometimes require other partners. The sexual aspect is not a reason for me to lash out at someone (partner or otherwise), however, the tender loving aspect of another woman lying in my partner's arms would send me for blood...not so much his...although he would get some lash...if she knew about me...whoa Nelly! It would be in her best interest to befriend me or suffer if I am still in the eye of the storm. I have two types of rage: Quiet and Wild. Experience has shown me that a woman would rather befriend me than go against me. Most fear my wild anger (and I have a criminal record for it - the one I was caught for), but the quiet smiling anger is more dangerous as it plots and reasons.

Wild anger can get you busted as it got me busted. The quiet anger finds logical solutions and uses manipulation methods. Need I say more about the quiet anger? I don't think so. Rule #1: Always be crazier than the crazies. Always... The amazing part of about being crazy is that supposedly a crazy person does not realize they are crazy. When a person can come to terms with themselves and see their true inner nature as I have seen my own, then they can wear the CRAZY label. Label me Mentally Deranged! All efforts will be made to keep Max in the box...letting her out in total is not a good idea. ~ Arachne ~ 12/19/06 @ 10:38 p.m.

Note: Even thinking about this rage makes me taste blood. Not good. It has come to my attention that I lack power/control over this type of anger. Current mood...I COULD DESTROY IN A HEARTBEAT!

They did not prescribe 600 mg of Seroquel to me for nothing.

To Nathan (2)...

Dreams of a soft spring night bring me to his arms
We hug and stare into each other’s starry eyes which have told many stories
Only now the glimmer seems...
I feel your lips kissing my neck and shivers run down my spine
Kisses in other regions bring deeper shivers and yet I want more
I have felt these kisses in my mind as you spoke of them
However, reality is longed for
Will you pin me down and make me struggle?
Struggle for that which I want in the first place?
Maybe you will tie and tease me and grant yourself the right of full exploration
Then again, perhaps passion will not allow time for such a game
At least not at first
The world is our playground and nothing is predefined or limited
Perhaps ritual sex in a tomb could be had
Making love in the grass on a warm night
Rough sex in a bed
Wild sex in a car
Sharing thoughts about life which end on the floor in nakedness’ delight
Toys and play...play and toys
Roles to be had and scenes to be done
Who is who?
What has been won?
Prizes that we both want and will share accordingly
In that which we have only grazed the surface with subtlety
The beautiful subtlety that leaves questions unanswered
The subtlety that makes my mind wonder
Simple words that bring me to climax
The complexity has yet to be felt by two...
Doused with butterscotch
You can be my lollipop
Gently I enjoy the concoction
While bringing you pleasure
A pleasure that is actually my greed
I want you to cum first
As I will have you longer each time afterward
Although fairly gentle in that area
The desire to bite you is there
To bite you while in the heat of the moment
While you are inside me
My nails rake your back and dig in
Not because I want to hurt you
No...more so because of the intensity which I cannot hide
I want you to bite me in various places and drive me wild
Pain and pleasure are one
Open your mind and allow me to enter
See the possibilities of what has not been totally discussed
The wonderful delights of torture on a subject most willing
I am most willing
However, I can take you in my own ways although not dom
Fear would not be had in throwing you down to go down on you
Nor to ride you while you slumber or are awake
How deep will you sleep if sleep is had?
Will you wake to a candle lit room?
Will I be in a costume geared for a game?
Perhaps you will be too tired...however, if my hunger is great
I will attempt to arouse you nonetheless
In sleep you will feel my mouth take you in
And I will feel it grow within my mouth
You can pretend to sleep, but I will watch for other signs
Is his breathing different?
Do his toes curl?
Is there a gentle moan?
Sleep can be played off, but your member will tell me otherwise
As such, full advantage will be taken of my prize and satisfaction will be had
Aye, I am a greedy woman ~ Dec. 19, 2006

Arthur’s Committal - Edited...speaking of mental...

Arthur is my girlfriend's brother who is a real sweet guy. Okay so he is a bit crazy, but show me a New Yorker who is not mental and I will show you someone who is not from New York. Anyway, while on the phone with my friend today, she tells me that her brother went to see his doctor and while there he mentioned that he wanted to kill himself, but that he did not know how to do it. Mind you, Arthur is a guy who walks around the grocery store dressed like a Ninja Turtle with a full face motorcycle helmet and he only owns a 10 speed bike.

Although the doctor knows that Arthur is a bit off, the doc let him leave his office then had second thoughts. This ass of a doctor called Arthur and told him to return to his office as he forgot to tell him something. The good soul that Arthur is, returned to the doctor's office only to be met by the police who asked if he was willing to leave without a fight. Arthur said sure and cooperatively left.

This poor guy was committed for 7 days at Coney Island Hospital and then at Gracie Square. Not for anything, but this guy would not hurt a cockroach nor would he hurt himself. The drugs that the doctors are giving him are fucking his head over...he should just be allowed to be his zany self without a doc and drug patrol. BTW, this guy does not use illegal drugs. GIVE 'EM HELL ARTHUR!!!

Save that shit...I will say it in person as I head for NYC this Thursday in the P.M. ~ Arachne 12/19/06 @ 1:40 a.m.

**Note: My daughter told me tonight that I am scary and mental so she is afraid to let me meet Mike's mom as Mike's mom is small and timid. Hell, I know how to be nice and will not scare the shit out of her as I can behave myself...until she gets to know me. My daughter had the nerve to call me mental...she was singing "It's My Dick in a Box" tonight...over and over...making me totally crackers that I beat the phone with a plastic bottle. Not for anything 20 minutes of her cat screaming as she cleaned its ears is enough to drive anyone postal. She is busted as I recorded her and when she heard herself singing, she sang along. She found it funny enough to spit up all over her computer screen. Now who is scary and mental? My daughter Miss Weezie that's who. She was scary enough to be removed from two Catholic grammar schools and really she is timid by my standards.

LIFE

No matter how bad you beat me
No matter how much you try to hurt me
No matter what damage you think you can do
I have been there before
You can kick me and curse me
You can ignore me or ridicule me
You can't do anything that has not been done before
I am still alive
Only I can kick my ass the best
Only I can really destroy me
Only I have the power over me
I have something to be thankful for

Brains splattered on the side walk of the jumper who plummeted 14 stories to his death on Remsen Street. Death's sweet smell escaped him like the breath of a rose in a gentle breeze. The smell of fresh death has a sickly sweet odor (I am not making this up.) . Actually, this body's core bears the same color of the rose in some respects as the color is red. This poor man's suit trousers were split and his shoe lied not far from his body yet he had managed to keep one on. What lied before me beckoned my morbid curiosity as I had never noticed the sweet smell of death before. I had stared at him curiously until they covered his body in a yellow tarp. I used to tell people that he was already covered so that I was not thought of as bizarre. However, I no longer care. Isn't that an interesting way to start a work day? Isn't that an interesting way to end a life.

Jumpers are not limited to buildings. Many like jumping in front of the subway during rush hour to inconvenience the riders to the point of going postal because they can't get home. This seems to occur more so in the summer when temperatures reach about 130 underground and this temperature does not take into account the humidity. Fresh air is not something to be had as what is breathed in is thick and laced with the putrid stench of urine.

It pays to have a strong stomach. Thankfully I had turned enough dead dogs over and watched enough maggots eat. You would think that maggots start on top...nah they are under the dog. Thankfully, I had seen enough fresh dead bodies from a distance (but close enough to see the blood oozing from the chest or the picking up of body parts). Thankfully, I had witnessed the attempted taking of life. Thankfully, I had my face punched enough and my body battered enough to toughen me up for this wonder we call life. ~ Arachne 12/18/06 @ 2:29 a.m.

To Nathan:

Your head lies in my lap and I listen to the words you speak. I watch you face through amazed eyes and see thoughts expressed through facial expressions and hand movement. The feeling is cozy and warm as comfort is abound and freedom reigns. We can be who we are.

I stroke your head while I listen to you and I begin to stir. Maybe it is my breathing or my movement that gets you stirring and you pull me forward to kiss you. Our mouths are open and our tongues start off slow and become more wild with each lash. This intensity is followed to the floor as we tear each others clothes off like animals.

You know that I want to be tied so you grab me and...
A struggle is given as that is more fun as I want you to work for it. I try to bite you...maybe I succeed, but I want you and you sense it. Your force is stronger than mine and that arouses me like a cat in heat.
His voice is like willows is in the wind
His spirit is childlike and wonderfully imaginative
His kindness and thoughtfulness brings a tear of joy
His respect is something that I value as it is priceless
His sharing and caring ways are unlimited
His body is artfully crafted and there is room for imagination
His rage and frustration is humorous yet a turn on
His eyes see what others do not as
His mind is open and endless
He is sweeter than the sweetest candy
The beauty of this is that I can see him in the park with me! He is Apollo and he is a god in his own right!
Hail! The sun is shining!
O, mind of fantasy lift me and take me away
Art there no end to my longing?
Bring me to the arms that I want draped around me
Bring me to the lips that I want to kiss
Allow me the warm of thy body under cold sheets
Allow me the gentle caresses and rough play that thou art capable of
Art thou there in reality?
Aye, as I have heard you stir!

Lest we tear ourselves from this dreamlike state, reality will not occur. Dost the pain of longing bear more weight? Nay to pain and aye to joy! The joy of caring and sharing as we have been doing...one more step beyond. Art thou at the edge? My fingers grip the cliff’s cuff and yet I want to free fall for the rush of it all. Let’s splatter the walls with blood and litter the floor with paper or mags. Let’s paint the walls, ceilings, and floors black and enter the constellations in every room. Lit only by candles held by skeletal hands that have long ago lost feeling. We cast enough to feel for all the bones that have yet to turn to dust. ~ Dec 15, 2006

This goes into a rant as memories were popping up...

I really disliked Fat Bobby before I met him as he was a user of people and would make them do shit for coke. As Anna was my friend and he made her do stupid shit, I did not like him. However, when I met him...he was cool. This is the guy who has my crucifixion pics somewhere in his house. I was real drunk and was stirring shit with Bobby, Eddie, and Anna which was commonplace. All of a sudden (I was told all this and the pics backed it up) I said I had to pee so I got up and stood by the fish tank and started to pull down my pants. Of course Anna did not want me to pee on the floor of her apartment so she brought me to the bathroom. When I did not return, Anna said to Bobby and Eddie I bet she is sleeping in the tub. Sure enough, when they came into the bathroom, I was crashed in the bathtub. The pulled my body out and brought me to the living room where they posed me like christ on a cross and took pics. That shit was funny. Another time, Bobby handcuffed me to the steering wheel of his car and I took offense to it and tore my flesh off just to prove that I was crazy enough to get out. Then I went after him. This guy hated this one pair of shoes that I had and stole one so that I could not wear them. On my birthday he called me and told me to go outside and lo and behold, my shoe had a balloon attached to it and was filled with candy. Under the shoe was a birthday cake. The sucker was on the block watching me get the shit. When I got into my house, he knocked on the door and said that he had another present, however, I had to be blindfolded to get it. He said you stay there until I tell you to take the blind fold off so I did what I was told and did not even take if off when I heard him leave. The telephone rang and he asked if I saw it yet and I said no. After being called stupid, I took the blindfold off and at my feet was the Metallica Box Set.

This guy really loved Sinatra and I used to rib him for it. He used to wear a hat like Sinatra and I used to smack it off his head and call him an asshole. I got a good story for that one too. When Sinatra was in town he asked me to go with him. Just to be a bitch I said sure if you buy me a dress and get a limo. He agreed, but got sick before the show and we didn't go. I ribbed him about that too. The asshole story was about a night that me, Anna, Joe, and Bobby were supposed to go to The Vault. I told Bobby you can't go in there acting like some Brooklyn asshole as these people would fuck him up. Not wanting to risk a scene with him and the people inside, we drifted off to the Village lower east side where we hit a bar on St. Marks. At this point I ran into some band members from Andrew's old band and started to hang with them. Bobby, in his frustration, started throwing peanuts at me and again I called him an asshole, so he left me there and he, Joe, and Anna took off. I hung out with this crew for awhile and started to make my way to The Scrap Bar. Who do I see holding up a wall...Chris totally stoned out and nodding. I grabbed his hand and told him that I would take care of him and that he should come with me to The Scrap. Just as I am lifting him off the wall, Andrew and his friends passed, looks were exchanged and Chris and I headed west to MacDougal. Chris was so wasted that he could not go into The Scrap so he opted to sit outside and wait for me. Every once in awhile I would go check on him and he was okay. When I was good and wasted, I scooped him up and we headed for the subway. I remember him getting off the train, but never made it. That night I was rolled for my money and my cigarettes. Thankfully, nothing else was disturbed. The train had gone into the yards and then turned around. When I got out of the train, I had no idea where I was or if I was on this planet. Although I left the train station, when I hit the street, I had no clue where I was so I jumped the turnstyle and got back on the train. Again, I got off, but was not sure where I was. How I made it home is a mystery.
This guy respected me so much that when Andrew hurt me, he wanted to get Neil to break his wrists so that he could not wipe his own ass. I did not want to have Drew hurt as what goes around comes around. Drew paid his due and proper...he is dead.

Oh, before I forget, I had untied Bobby shoes one day and he forgot to tie them, so when we got outside and I chased him into the street, he tripped over his own laces and fell on his face. The pointing and laughing was too much, but that is what friends do. Actually, I am looking for the Anna & Carlos sex tape that Bobby recorded which is funny as hell. Imagine this bitch screaming iiieeee poppy! LMAO

Carlos was treated like a dog and was not really allowed into my apartment proper as he would have to sit on the floor by the door. When he called me a self-centered bitch who only thought of herself that is when I gave him respect and we befriend as he was right and had to balls to tell me. The shock in his voice when I agreed was funny as hell.

Carl was a real dick to Anna and I placed that sucker in shit status and made sure that he took Anna back when her father died as the prick gave her the news like he was talking about the weather then kicked her out of his apartment.

I really need to fill in the blanks someday. ~ Arachne ~  12/14/06 @ 2:12 p.m.

The Phantom

A hush draws upon the speaking voices of the floor and the balcony as the lights dim and the gavel hits the auction block. The *chandelier lies upon the stage in a seemingly broken fashion and the story of love begins.

Sitting in my seat at the Majestic Theatre, I lean over the railing and I cry for the Phantom as he hides behind his mask, but his heart bears so much love. Anyone who sees beyond the mask, will see his great love hidden behind anger. ~ Arachne December 12, 2006 @ 3:12 a.m.

* In his anger, the Phantom had the chandelier crash to the stage of the opera as no one listened to him nor loved him. Only fear of him was had.

Imagine the rising of the candelabra from the floor of the stage and the dry ice fog as a boat steered by the Phantom takes Christine away. The beauty of that scene will be with me always just as the one of him crying for the woman he loved.

Listening to "Magical Lasso"

The Eating of Ice Cream

Mr. Softy's (I believe that this is a registered trademark.) ice cream truck's annoying looped music is enough to drive anyone crazy, however, it serves as an alarm that the truck is outside. You best hurry and get your money out before the truck leaves. Soft vanilla ice cream on a cone is a sweet treat on any hot summer night. If one is inclined, sprinkles can be added for a delightful taste of chocolate on the buds. Unfortunately, the heat of the night causes the delight to melt rapidly. As such, the eating of the ice cream would have to be done starting from the bottom up as the leaking cream can leave you with sticky hands, ice cream on your stoop, and ants. Therefore, every effort is made to capture the melting concoction before it is too late. My tongue licks at the base yet the sides are not forgotten. My mouth also goes over the top and I take in the length of this sweet delight and I suck up just the leaking part of the cream without taking the entire head off. The tip can be captured by the lips very easily as it is intact although dripping downward. Is there a method to the eating of this treat? You are god damned right there is! Wee ha! Just know that you will always hear the truck CUMING before it actually gets to you.

NOTE: Good Humor has bells on the truck and does not sell fresh from the machine ice cream as all their stock is frozen and 98 percent of their items are on a stick (except for an ice cream sandwich and drum stick). Hum...A red, white, and blue Ice Rocket can be fun too. Ahh yup! ~ Arachne 12/09/06 @ 5:59 a.m.

Drop A Dime

Passing this tribute along. This man was a killer guitarist who backed his band for all he was worth. When I think back to the days of having seen Pantera in concert, I remember the movement of the crowd filling Roseland during THIS LOVE. I had told Anna to watch the movement of the crowd...I said to her that the people will appear as a sea of movement until the waves crash on the shore. The mosh pit was alive and bodies where flying all over. The mini pits were mild as the guys in the real pit were getting bloodied.

This one guy who was real sweaty, had a boot print on his forehead, and looked real angry after leaving the pit. As he made his way through the crowd, they moved. I moved too to let him by. What made him grab my face and kiss me and then keep walking is beyond me.

Roseland had mirrored columns and they were taped to keep from shattering due to the impact of the crowd. That did not save all the mirrors.

On this same night, some guy from Jersey offered me a metal pick to stab people. I was like nah...thanks anyway. I must have dopey written on my forehead.

Totally different show...still Pantera and again at Roseland...Drew and I were FUCKING HOSTILE...I remember we were wasted and got to 52nd St. via motorcycle. The night was real hot and I was only wearing a black fishnet top (big holed net...no not a poser fishnet top), black mini, and black bra. It was so hot, I took the top off and stuck it in the helmet. Drew went for center pit and I went to a smaller pit. I can still feel the pain in my neck from head banging that night. As we were leaving we could still hear the fans screaming FUCKING HOSTILE in the streets and giving each other the horns. No one knew who you were, but if you were a fan, you were a friend.

At another show Jen got punched in the face. Duh??? Where was her guard? Same place mine was for On Broken Wings. Dimebag, R.I.P. dude and thanks for the memories that drugs and booze did not block out!!!!!!  ~ Arachne 12/08/06 @ 3:29 a.m. 

My Baby

My little girl can yank my chain in the biggest way ever. She can call me and ball about the craziest thing and I will laugh and cry with her. This morning as I was blasting an old tape that was supposed to be MY music, however, I found her stuff on it that was recorded about 10 years ago over mine. When she heard the music in the background, she said OMFG I don't believe it. Although I told her that I do listen to her music when I miss her to give me a feel of her, she never caught me. Well, I was busted this morning and you know what...it felt good!

Today's stories were about CHARMIN WORLD (toilet paper), the John Travolta M&M, and the office chair. I will skip Charmin World and Travolta, however, I will share the office chair. She and her friend were in Times Square last night and they found an old office chair with wheels. Well Nix not falling too too far from the tree, was rolling around the street with it. At some point she was giving rides to a homeless guy who in appreciation sat on her lap and later gave her a kiss. THAT'S MY GIRL. Maybe I did rub off on her somewhat.

This holiday will be the first time since she was born that I will not be with her. I have kept my bill money on the side and I am really thinking hard on taking off. My heart is pulling so damn hard, however, I also realize that I have to be practical. Which will win out? FUCK I CAN'T STAND IT!

Today I heard Staying Alive from Saturday Night Fever while in the car dealership: I was dancing to it and crying at the same time. I miss her sooooooooo much! ~ 12/7/06 @ 7:56 p.m.

Frustrated

Everyday, I pace outside the window and long for this granddaddy of a lollipop. This little kid wants the big beautiful twist lollipop that dangles in the window. Its bright colors and twisted candy look scream my name and although I stare at it and hunger for it, I don't know how to get it. Angrily, I stomp my feet in frustration like a spoiled little brat and curse my own longing. With my face pressed against the window, I search my pockets and pull them outward only to retrieve a penny and then to a sport a set of rabbit ears. What the hell can rabbit ears do? How will a penny allow me to get at this lollipop whose cost might as well be a million dollars? Pacing outside the shop, all the other confections are ignored. Sure I see all the others, however, I want the beautiful lollipop that dangles almost in front of my face. Only a tiny bit of glass separates me from it yet it might as well be housed in Fort Knox.

If I could get at my desire, would it be a slow and long lick so that I can truly enjoy it or would I hungrily eat it up like biting into a Tootsie Pop to get to the center? I don't fucking know. ~ Maggie ~ 12/05/06 @ 9:53 a.m.

* Just so you know, I am not really talking about a lollipop. Also, the lollipop that I am trying to describe is not your everyday regular lollipop. This one is made with a long strip of colorful candy (yellow, blue, red, orange, and green) that is wound and placed on a stick. If you were to look at it, it would look like a spiral laid flat or a multicolored bull's eye. If you have ever seen a rag rug, it is kind of the same with the mixed colors and spiral design. In other words, this confection is complex in design and color whereas most lollipops are plain.

Miracle: I actually knocked myself out without xanax last night. I found la la land.

The Heart Has No Eyes

When you feel something for someone, what they look like, what they have, or don't have is not an issue. What is an issue is how the heart is affected. They say that love is blind and I can totally relate to that as what flaws exist in the eyes of others are not seen by the person who truly loves. No one can say that one specific thing causes a heart to fly in a specific direction as each individual has a different chord. However, it is possible for a chord to be struck just as hard as a previous one. Although the two chords are very different, the heart sings the same music and is bound with affection. The heart sees more beauty that the eyes could ever behold and this message is transferred to the brain and stored. ~ 12/03/06 @ 7:27 p.m.

Two Hits of Purple Haze

Two Hits of Purple Haze
Thoughts are like maggots on a carcass
Eating and feeding
Death brings life
Squirming and slithering around in my head
They'll never stop until I am dead
Who is to say what lunacy holds
Beneath the darkness; beneath the folds ~ Arachne
Two Hits of Purple Haze

As I looked at the pills before me, I though WOW I wonder what will happen. My cousin Joey told me to make sure that I only took half a pill as this was my first trip. Well, I did listen to him initially. I took out a razor and cut the pill into two parts and although mighty tiny, I dropped it and waited...and waited...and waited. Sorry to say that I am not a patient person in some respects, therefore, I decided to drop the other half. Much to my dismay, nothing happened. This is approximately one hour later After waiting for sometime now, I said: Fuck it! I am taking the other one. So, two hits of purple haze had been dropped and again I waited.

I was lying in my bed watching an old back and white TV and chilling out. Other than the light of my TV, there was the stark white bulb that hung on the ceiling like a open sore. I can't say that I remember the movie I was watching, but it was not a cartoon. After awhile, I was having a hard time hearing what was being said by the people on TV as only every other word was being heard. I was like: WOW this is interesting. Not too long afterward, they were cartoon characters who couldn't talk properly.

The ugly bulb in the ceiling was suddenly full of color and the colors kept changing. Again, I thought: WOW this is great. Sure it was all fun and games as the entertainment was on HIGH. This shit was making me feel like Alice in Wonderland and I was loving it without a doubt. Maybe I was bugging too much on what I could not hear and what I realized could not be really happening. That may have thrown my trip off kilter because before I knew it, the walls started to ooze blood and come alive. The joyful comic display was turning into a horror show that I could not stop.

All the posters on my walls were moving and being covered by blood that was now kind of gushing. The taste of blood was then transferred into my mouth and I could taste the iron of the substance. Madness was all around me and I had nowhere to go.

The pajamas that I had on that night were red and I had used scented talcum power. The color of my Pjs were driving me crazy and I had to take them off as fast as I could. The smell of the powder, which was strawberry, was not something that I could escape.

By this time, I had shut the TV and light in hopes that if I could not see it, it would not get me. Unfortunately, that did not work. As I tried to talk myself straight, sirens were going off in my head and blasting the sound of my own rational thoughts to silence. I tried to pray to god for this to stop and to let me be normal again, but that prayer fell on deaf ears. Sure, I had done this to myself and now it was time to deal with the situation. Thoughts of talking myself straight were still trying to be had, but I felt like I was fighting a monster and the monster was my mind. I tried to lie still and not to think at all...total shutdown, but that didn't happen either so I curled into a fetal position and hugged myself. My eyes were razor sharp and even in the darkness of my room there was light...light enough for me to look at my gray arm and see the little dwarfs run down my arm. With whatever strength I had in my other arm, I made a dash to get them off of me. Sure, they were gone but what was left of my arm? It had aged and the veins were popping out as I was suddenly very old and almost not capable of moving, but move I did. Sitting there with my head in my hands, I decided to look out the window. Pulling the shade aside, I saw the tree. Normally this tree was a pleasant tree that was green and provided shade by my window, however, not on this night. NO. On this night the tree was a monster that was trying to get through my window with its branched arms lunging toward me and scaring the shit out of me.

My room had become quite tiny by this time as all that existed was me and my brain. There was no room for anything else as my mind sought to fill me with every horror that I had ever thought upon up to this point in my life. Accepting that I had gone mad was a hard thing to think of so I wished for death only that did not come either. Minutes seemed like hours or hours seemed like minutes as time was not real. Nothing was real...not even me. None of my senses were picking up things accurately and I could not fight myself as I had tried and lost.

After what seemed like an eternity, I smelled eggs and heard real loud talking. The smell and the sound were making me nuts and I wanted it to stop so I threw on my robe, opened my door, and headed downstairs and through the door that separated the kitchen from the main part of the house. Yeah I heard the radio voices and smelled the eggs all the way upstairs and through two doors. I must have looked like a beast let out of the cage as my grandfather and his wife looked oddly at me as I screamed for them to stop with the noise and to stop cooking. At this point, I was totally off the wall and looking for relief in any way I could get it. I thought maybe I should go wash my face as it might help me feel better. The cold water was scooped up from the faucet and splashed on my face several times before I looked in the mirror to see the maggots eating my face and my eyes wide and black. Damn I needed to get out...I needed to get out of being me. Everything around me was disturbing and I could not find a second of peace from myself.

Really I must have looked like a deranged animal as my step grams pointed her finger in my face and yelled to my grandpa that I was on drugs. Not for anything, my night was hell and this woman was now all up in my face and my mind was not RIGHT. To say that I wanted to rip her head off and feed it to her, is an understatement. Rage was burning in my veins and those black eyes were staring off in her direction shooting daggers. I suppose she thought better than to stay in my face as she backed off. Maybe it was the glare of my eyes or my heavy breathing and tossed look that scared her. I will never know.

Making it back to my room, and I am not sure how I did it, I managed to get dressed and head back downstairs past the dynamic duo sitting there looking at me with weird looks. Outside I went and hopped on my bike and rode. I did not want to think, see, or do, but these functions were out of my control everything and everything was wacked. I could not even enjoy a cigarette as they tasted like shit. What to do? What to do? I know! I will smoke menthols. I can't say how I looked at that point or how my actions appeared to the sales person behind the counter, but I felt like I was maniacal. At a loss and still hoping for relief, I sat outside the store and had a smoke. Hum. Not bad. First good thing so far other than the skipped words on TV, the cartoons figures, and the cool lights. WOW pleasure again! It was at this point I started to chill out. Sitting there in the sun and smoking was working wonders. Duh...how about a chocolate bar? Yeah. Let me head to another store though. Off I went to get my sweets. Hum...good stuff. It seems like the hell of my night was finally ending, however, even though I started to feel GOOD things again...things that brought some small sort of pleasure, I felt like I had the worst beating of my life. I was drained dead.

All I could remember after that was that sleep was hard to obtain and that my trip lasted for 12 hours.

You may be wondering did she do it again after all this and I would have to say yeah. Most of my trips were bad trips too. Actually, I can't really remember a good one. Some were funny afterthoughts, but the living of it, was not. Shit, 21 years of substance abuse does wear on you. Ergo, here I am! Eat Me!!! ~ 12/2/06 @ 11:22 p.m

NOTE: You know what I love about life, truth is STRANGER than fiction. Welcome to my nightmare...some of it. I got tons more.

Institutionalized - Suicidal!

Last time I saw Suicidal was when they played with Metallica and Danzig. They had two shows in the tri-state area (Long Island & Jersey) and I went to both. On the first night, I went with Fat Bobby, Judy, and Steve. On the second night, I went with Fat Bobby, Jimmy, and Carlos (I think). It could have been Chris.

** Background of my friends: Fat Bobby was a coke dealer, Judy was the head of graphic designs where I worked, Steve was/is her husband, Jimmy was a metal head, Carlos is Carlos (long story), and Chris was a skinhead with hair who spoke like Arnold..."I'll be back." LMAO Chris was also a heroin junkie in a real bad way.

6. Institutionalized

[Mike Muir/Mayorga]

Sometimes I try to do things and they just don't turn out the way I want em to.
And I get real frustrated and it's like, I take my time and I try real hard
And no matter what I do, and no matter what I try
It never works out.
And it's like, I concentrate on it real hard, but it never works out
And it's like, I need some time to figure these things out.
But there's always someone there going
Hey Mike: You know, we've been noticing you have a lot of problems lately.
You know, and like maybe you should talk about it, you'll feel a lot better
And I go: No it's okay, I'm having some problems, I'll figure it out myself, just leave me alone.
I'll figure it out.
And they go: Why don't you talk about it? You'll feel a lot better.
And I go: No I don't want to! Just leave me alone, I'll figure it out myself!
And they just keep on bugging me and it builds up inside
And it builds up inside
So you're gonna be institutionalized
You'll come out brainwashed with bloodshot eyes
You won't have any say
They'll brainwash you until you see their way.
I'm not crazy - institutionalized
You're the one who's crazy - institutionalized
You're driving me crazy - institutionalized
They stuck me in an institution
Said it was the only solution
To give me the needed professional help
To protect me from the enemy, myself
I was in my room and I was like starin at the walls thinking about
Everything but then again I was thinking about nothing
And then my mom came in and I didn't even know she was there and she called my name
And I didn't hear it, and then she started screaming MIKE! MIKE!
And I go: What, what's the matter?
And she goes: What's the matter with you?
I said: Nothing, mom
And she goes: Don't tell me nothing, you're on drugs!
I go: No mom I'm not on drugs I'm okay, I'm just thinking you know, why don't you get me a Pepsi?
And she goes: NO you're on drugs! You're crazy! Normal people don't be acting that way.
I go: Mom I'm alright, I'm just thinking, you know. So why don't you like get me a Pepsi?
And she goes: No, you're crazy!
All I wanted was a Pepsi, just one Pepsi, and she wouldn't give it to me.
Just one Pepsi.
They give you a white shirt with long sleeves
Tied around you're back, you're treated like thieves
Drug you up because they're lazy
It's too much work to help a crazy
I'm not crazy - institutionalized
You're the one who's crazy - institutionalized
You're driving me crazy - institutionalized
They stuck me in an institution
Said it was the only solution
To give me the needed professional help
To protect me from the enemy, myself
I was sitting in my room and my mom and my dad came in and they pulled up a chair and they sat down, They go: Mike, we need to talk to you
And I said: Okay what's the matter?
They go: Me and your mom have been noticing lately you've been having a lot of problems,
And you haven't been acting like yourself.
And we're afraid that you're gonna hurt somebody.
And we're afraid that you're gonna hurt yourself.
So we decided that it would be in your interest if we put you somewhere
Where you could get the help that you need.
And I said: Wait, what are we talking about? We decided!? My best interest?!
How can you know, how can you say what my best interest is?
What are you trying to say, I'm crazy?
When I went to your schools, I went to your churches, I went to your institutional learning facilities?!
So how can you say that I'm crazy.
They say they're gonna fix my brain
Alleviate my suffering and my pain
But by the time they fix my head
Mentally I'll be dead
I'm not crazy - institutionalized
You're the one who's crazy - institutionalized
You're driving me crazy - institutionalized
They stuck me in an institution
Said it was the only solution
To give me the needed professional help
To protect me from the enemy, myself
It doesn't matter I'll probably get hit by a car anyway.
http://www.darklyrics.com/lyrics/suicidaltendencies/stillcycoafteralltheseyears.html#6
http://www.darklyrics.com/s/suicidaltendencies.html
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Suicidal_Tendencies

LISTENING TO: LIFELESS EYES by ART OF CONVULSION!!! Add these guys to your friends list. Check out their site. See my TOP FRIENDS. Don't be lame! ~ 12/1/06

Bitch and moan: An Asshole’s Rant

Did you ever just feel like crap because... It is like beating yourself up or beating your head against the wall and not even making a dent in your head. It is not that I can't change certain aspects of the way I think because I can as it has been done before: it is called adjustment. Usually, if something causes me pain, I put it to the back of my mind and keep it there for future reference. You would think that I would want to get rid of it. Nah. Some pains are not worth parting with.

This feeling of pain has been buried before yet it always rises to the surface with or without my doing. That is what I find fascinating about memory. I can remove all or most of what is associated to the cause of my self-created grief, yet I can't erase what my mind holds. Reprogramming can be done so that I can look at things in a different light and gain strength or knowledge from an event while at the same time that event will pull triggers of yet earlier events and help me in later events. It is called experience and it is wonderful. Therefore, in the long run, I am back at square one with the original pain only this time I am better armed, but still open to hurt.

Sometimes I wish I were I heartless bitch who did not could care less for others, but that is not me. It would be a safe way to live, but safe sucks when you think about it. Risks are what make life worth living and if risks involve repeated pain, then so be it. Please realize that I am not referring to repeating the same mistakes over and over again as that is totally foolish. What I am trying to say is that no matter what choices you or I make in life, there will be ups and downs and sometimes the downs will hurt, however, it will make the ups so much more appreciated and valuable. Hell, I sometimes look back at what hurt me and smile as the experience was so worth having.

Maybe the reader will think that I am mental case in writing this, however, I don't care. This is me so take it or leave it. I don't really give a rat's ass one way or the other as these are my feelings. ~ 11/29/06 @ 1:16 p.m.

Post Script: With any luck, I will get Alzheimer's. ~ 1:40 p.m.

Come Out and Play:

Looking ever so sweet in his jeans and Converse sneaks, he jumps off the cannon and heads towards me. I take his hand and we head out into the setting sun to go on an adventure that will lead us to strange and new places that only our imagination can take us. With the innocence of children, we laugh and joke and enjoy the moment for what the moment brings is magickal and thus never ending.

The world is our playground and, like two children, we take full advantage of it. He is the king and I am the queen. Although not of royal blood, we have ascended the monkey bars and thus we run the grounds as far as our eyes can see. The hobby horses are not only our court, but also our steeds on which we gallop the grounds. Granted, the coil that holds them in place keep us in place as well, however, only those who would lay eyes on us would see that. Actually, we are like the children who jump through the chalk drawing in Mary Poppins. We may not have carousel horses, but ours are just as grand if not more so.

He has a surprise for me at a special park. There in the middle lies a giant spider web made of cable and oh so craftily suspended. Not even the great weaver Arachne herself could weave such a design to withstand our weighted passions. As this is my surprise from him, I too must give him a surprise. Being the good little spider that I am, I head to the center of the web and beckon him to join me. The playful child quickly begins to lose her childlike innocence and turns to a woman and then from a woman to "the black widow." Her invite to be joined does not go unnoticed by the boy who turns to a man and then from a man to a mate. He heads toward me.
Although he enters the web with anticipation, I too have anticipations. Under the full moon, we are many shades of gray and yet our true colors show through. I entwine myself within the web rather than entwine him and wait for him to prey upon me. This widow shall not kill her mate, however, she will allow him to devour her. ~ 11/27/06

Lust

Lying before him, my head rises and I see his body of masculinity in all its glory.  I gaze into his eyes and maintain my sights and wit while bearing witness to his hands that press firmly upon me.  His hands are like no other in that they are sculptured like fine marble in pristine manner made possible by a master.  He lays grasp upon my thighs and pries me to his way.  Better and more beautiful hands could not be found on Adonis as his tone is human.  Aye, a bit of a struggle is given, yet in all sincerity, my longing does not want him to waver.  Steadfastly, he lays claim to what is justly his and pours forth his rod into my fever and feeds the very fire that he has ignited. - 11/21/06 at 7:03 p.m.

Is it a human being or a human doing?

"Is it a human being or a human doing?"To err is human, to forgive is divine...
Can it be said that divinity can evolve out of forgiveness? Humans err more oft than not yet see more so in others than themselves. Shortcomings of status occur when reflections are not seen in those akin. Thus, those that can extend forgiveness without piety are more akin to god than human.

Who shall cast the first stone? Many. They are oh too human in doing. ~ 11/06/06

Inspired by and written to "Nathan"

Where Dost Madness Dwell?

Where Dost Madness Dwell?
If insanity dwells within
And heresy is accused
Rest on the laurels of thy base
Or be defiled of thine own being
Madness is what controlled men fear
Their animal lurks beneath their wool clothes
Like a wolf in sheep's skinned stealth
The true blade lies within this sheath o skin
Double edged yet bloodless
More runs through the veins in a leaf
Than bears metal in thine arteries
O petrified forest of men
Whose hearts have turned to stone
Whose legs have taken root to ground
Whose branches no longer expand
Dare to think like a mad hatter or a March hare
And allow Sherwood to thrive ~ 11/5/06

Dreams Disturbed

Over the course of months, I have had a few dreams about a particular person which caused me to wake each and every time.

In the first dream I was awake and received criticism for something as silly as spelling mistakes. His chastisement woke me out of my sleep.

The second dream, I was asleep within. However, he again roused and aroused me in a way that I will keep to myself. The seeming reality of the dream woke me from my actual sleep and delightfully so.

Within the dream last night, I was again asleep, but the method of his crafty kiss succeeded to wake me in the dream and in reality.

Damn, I only slept about 4 hours. Help! What is going on here? Hum. ~ 11/4/06

Letting out some stream

Whaa I am in thinking mode and I want to pull my hair out by the roots!  It is just another day of feeling like shit.  Yeah okay I have put myself in this situation, but would I have it any other way?  NO.  You may ask why do I do this to myself?  Feelings at any level, whether it is pain or pleasure, is a feeling had.  Sometimes what feels like pleasure for one second, makes you feel like shit for years after and therefore it is a pain.  I am trying to figure out if pain and pleasure are one and the same.

So I don’t sound too off the wall I will try to explain this.  When you love someone (it doesn’t matter who it is in your life), even if it is briefly (briefly could even be 20 years in the course of a lifetime), that love stays with you regardless of what they do to/for you.  The absence of that individual for whatever time between the end of the relationship (due to parting of ways or death) and the end of your life is a hell of a long time.

This may sound like I am dwelling in the past, however, the past is a connection to the present and the future and does not only apply in a love situation.

Now think on this: What hurts more...physical or emotional pain?  Not for anything, but I would rather take a beating.  Black eyes, broken bones, cracked head, and many other things are not so bad in comparison.  After reading this over, I realize that they can tie into each other because I would have to look at who is causing the pain and why.

If the person is a stranger who punches your face, you see black and lash out at them with everything you have built up inside you with a massive fury.  The impact of the punch that they have given you does not really hurt. It is almost like you want them to give you an excuse to vent.  Then again if a person you love hits you, you may or may not lash back.  If you do lash back, it would be mild in comparison.  Pain does not even have to be delivered by blows as it can come from words that cause scars and internal damage.  Boy could I chase my tail on this one.  When I start to think about it, it is all fucked up!

There is negative and positive attention.  As a kid, I sought attention from my parent in any way that I could get it.  While in the custody of a care giver, I did not seek attention at all, but I did receive negative and destructive attention.  In conjunction with the negative and positive attention I got from my parent, I started to tune out and stray out into oblivion to deaden all feeling or find a hole in the ground.  In the end, even though I found what I believe to be myself after recovering my feelings and trying to deal with them, myself and my feelings turned out to be what a mishmash.  At least I did not succeed to the hole in the ground even though it was sought a few times.  Coming to terms with myself was not an overnight process as it is still a work in progress.  Hell, I may never find out who and what I am, but I won’t give up my evolution regardless of the bumps and bruises that occur along the way.  At this point, I allow myself to feel, but at the same time, I realize that I can turn it all inward and disappear. ~ 11/4/06 @ 10:36 a.m.

The Fight in Sheepshead Bay

The Fight in Sheepshead Bay
More memories...

Everyone that knew me, knew I had one vicious temper as I never held anything back. What made Roxanne and Julianne think that I would let it go after I went after them with a baseball bat and threw Andrew down a flight of stairs? Their idle threats that I should watch my back fell on deaf ears. I don't think Andrew let them know what they were up against. That is too bad. At least Andrew told the boyfriend of some Jersey bitch who I bloodied by the pit, to leave before I did more damage to her face. He also warned this other bitch named Sue to leave before I stabbed her. * Clarification...I was wielding a knife and I sliced something and told her she was next. Trust me when I say that her ass moved real quick.

Let's get real here. Not for anything, these people were warned. Some people don't take warnings seriously. Duh!

I had gone looking for Roxanne with a chain wrapped around my fist. Prep work was done prior to leaving home such as making sure that I took off my earring, necklaces, or anything that could bring me down. My blood was boiling and my intent of finding her was great. If I would have found Julianne, her ass would have been kicked instead. Both of them would have been fought if I had to. These two bitches violated respect in a big way and deserved to get hurt. However, Roxanne deserved it more than Julianne. I was in front of the train station in the Bay when I saw her with some of her friends and I called her out to fight. All is fair...I was alone and she had her friends. Right in the middle of the street we had a brawl and I was nailing her. This ass of a guy, whose name escapes me at the moment, but whom I later became friends with jumped me from behind so I flipped him and gave him a heel in the gut. It must have hurt because he held it while lying on the ground. The sound of his head hitting the asphalt sounded like a coconut. Clunk! Everyone heard it. The crowd was laughing at him for getting nailed by a girl. His male friends also gave him shit as it was not fair that he jumped in. Damn it is funny that I can remember his house and could find it tomorrow, but his name is gone. What is funny about this story is that Julianne, the guy I flipped, and their friends became friends with me. Roxanne moved. ~ 11/3/06 ** The guy's name was Billy.

Art of the Time

From out of the Dark Ages there was light
The light was the art of the schools
By whose hands gave us insight to past minds and their view of history
We can note in the paintings of Giotto (1266 - 1336), Duccio Di Buoninsegna (1260? - 1319?), Sassetta (1392 - 1450), and Antonello da Messina (1430? - 1479?) that they viewed past histories from in their own time rather than in its actual time period.

In essence, we are given a good view of the painter's point in time and life in that time.

When thou casts and eye to literature, do cast an eye to art. ~ 11/2/06

Beckon Thy Ear

Shard o shard
Dig deep within thee
Let not simmering peace be known’st
Burrow that of malicious intent
Speak naught of that which is arbitrary
And pulls at and upon thy reason
Tis known that birds of plunder are put asunder
By axe or arrow doomed be known
Be not shallow engravings on tin
But grave wounds to the heart
Ready a spit for the harvester
As the sacred lamb shall be put to death ~ 11/2/06

Humanity by the Wayside

Lying across my bed I weep tears of sorrow
As the smell of decay has penetrated and provoked my nostrils
And has entered my throat
Escape as I try
These savage scents do not grant me rest
And its residual taste lingers upon my buds
Putrid in form and order
That oft lie overwhelmed is the state of it
My eyes are not blind       
Nor are my ears deaf
And I feel as I do
Alas, my senses have not been deprived
The battery thereof has been pushed to excess
So much so that if all and all could be placed in a sphere
Not even Atlas himself could hold charge
Of what I am sent to borrow from those of less fortune
Grant me strength that I may share my load
With those of heart
With thee who see humanity where humanity has been abandoned
Do take heed ~ 11/2/06

“Captain Caveman”

"Captain Caveman" is a nickname that a good friend gave to another friend of mine quite awhile back. At the time I did not agree and defended the poor bastard. Now after pondering the thought, a caveman would not have manners nor would he know how to interact well socially with civilized people

Let me continue...

This is the case of one male that I had befriended. Those of you who have asked for my help, can attest that I have been more than willing to give assistance when asked. Even if not asked and you are having difficulty, I offer you my assistance. You kind folks in return have always said "thanks." It is a simple gesture of courtesy. Sure it is fine to skip a "thank you" here and there between friends, but to never say it? To never be polite or friendly? To be forever PMSing? Something is wrong with the picture right? Perhaps there is something wrong with the individual himself? I pity the poor bastard as it would seem that he, "Captain Caveman," is TERMINALLY hopeless in the friendship department. Maybe one day he will wake up and smell the coffee, however, he may wake up alone. Isn't that a sad scenario? Pathetic if you ask me.

Respect sits high with me and he has crossed the line on more than one occasion. However, being the sucker that I am, I will always have a place in my heart for him and I will always be open to being his friend. Damn, I must be a total horse's ass. LMAO Nah, I am just a nice person with wicked ways. Actually, had he been an ornery friend in REAL LIFE rather than on the internet, I would have belted him. Friends belt each other then get over it if they are TRUE friends. Somebody correct me if I am wrong. PLEASE... ~ 10/23/06

Echo Me to Thee

Shall I be broken to conform to his will?
Nay, my will shall be given to him freely
As it has always been there for him
Awaiting his approval
Why break a wild stallion
When the stallion will bow like a valiant show horse
Before a seasoned trainer?
My self-appointed reigns have been humbly offered to him
He just needs to make this realization
I have gentled my condition to him from the start
Yet the capability of my viciousness is known
As we are two sides of the coin
Possessing both good and evil
We can shake hands with our right hand while stabbing with our left
Is it not better to accept the relinquished will of another
And accept a handshake?
Rather than twist them to form
And risk a stab in the back?
What true power can be gained if in fact power is had?
Where is the victory?
Nay to cries of victory over foothills
Aye to those over mountains!
Echo me to thee ~ October 18, 2006

Listening to Lohengrin, Opera, WWV: Act III: Prelude