(Takes of Kura) Black meets Gold

"Of all the things that made me fearful and slowed my strides,

returning to the past is of the most effective." Her brow raised like a 

comma over the sound of her precise distaste.

The dark lord took bow, he was sure he knew in what

way to persuade his Lady to indulge in his request.

"Oh but Dear Queen Mother Nissa, surely

your benevolence would not leave

those of your service to

remain in such

disparities..."

His words trailed off like his bleeding intentions that

swirled unmistakably in the atmosphere under

the guise of humble nature. Nissa was not 

fooled. An uncomfortable twist took her

stomach as she realized he truly

believed that this is how

he would get

his way.

"Oh," she chuckled in between. "Dears and Queens, and

Mothers. Truly you must think so much of me."

She mused him. Playing in to his game of surface speakings and dull 

flattery. All the while wondering what service he

truly thought he had done so greatly as to warrant the use of magicks

it would take to transport them into a past dimension

and for....of what he wouldn't event speak. Typical of course. There is

nothing more to expect of a shadow dweller.

His eyes gleamed in light, though not in the brilliance of benevolence

but, the electric glare of a predator in wake of prey. They

lit of the excitement of conquest in sight.

"Oh, of course!" Came his exaggerated tone. "I mean...I know we've 

had our differences-"

"Differences? Is that what you call cursing my ancient tomes and 

dragging me into ages of psychic war?"

A laugh betrayed it's master and a satisfied smile as well.

"Heh, I mean...what? C'mon, you're still mad about THAT? Didn't it

totally make your people stronger? Or something...whatever.

We fought side by side for yeeears before that little misunderstanding

and you benefited in the end Miss, Warrior Queen. So what is 

there to be mad about?"

It was truly astonishing how long he could fabricate and believe

in his own bullshit. Nissa stared at him blankly. She wasn't 

even going to try to explain everything that was wrong with what 

had just explained. More so she was interested in what was

so important to him that he would come begging of her, knowing 

their past and the immense unlikelihood of her willingly

giving him aid.

"Disparities you say?" She took a look of forced interest.

"Oh yes!" came his eager response. "Disparities of the most 

dire nature!"

"What kind of disparities?" She questioned intently, wanting 

to force him out of the realm of ambiguity.

"Uh,"...He choked on his hidden motives. Nissa could see

his eyes darting around their true meaning as he 

worked his lips up for another passive response. "Well, you

see. The dwellers of Dark cities go...hungry."

Nissa's eyes squinted. In some sense this was true. In her realm 

of rule 4 cities existed. One of Dark, One in the key of

Light, One in the gleam of Aurora, and One in the clasp of Gold which

was the personal dwelling of herself and blood kin. 

Recently it had come to her attention that a shift had occurred in the

Dark city. The lands of Aurora had become more active

in it's prime season than in past years. This meant that more waves of

light would be able to be processed coming in from the multi-

verse space; which meant the lands of light could add knowledge to the

collective library of her realms in greater capacity, which meant...

"Oh, I see. The forests of Light are brighter this year. The dark ones

are losing alot of their hunting grounds. Isn't that right?"

The dark lord twitched at the corner of his mouth and blood heated

beneath his skin. The truth was he both hated and was 

infatuated with Nissa and all the cities outside of the dark realms. His

strange feelings forever unresolved had manifested into a disgust

which he blamed on all elements save for his own ignorance of self. So 

to hear the the object of his most passionate pain and pleasure

speak of the demise of the only realm he could travel and take advantage

of, only drove him deeper into his personal chaos.

It was then that his persona came about him. The Grand Ego of the dark 

lord which made him roll his eyes, rigid his posture, and give way

to the low growls of depreciation.

"Yea, that's right. And I think it would be pretty shitty if the 'Almighty 

Queen' of Kura just sat back in her precious Golden Castle while

her people are destroyed. Last time I checked a leader is suppose to

actually give a fuck. So are you going to help me or not?"

How amazing it was to be complimented, insulted, told to give a fuck

and yet to not receive fucks all at the same time. Truly his

talent for dramatics would be better utilized in theater than in his petty

whining. Nissa always thought so. To be fair, The dark lord 

Lowe had many talents and of his capacity to harvest ray particles, few

did rival. Though one could never be comfortable in complimenting

him; as his ways were of cowards and those who want with no genuine

devotion. Despite his potential, he was sloppy and disgusting at best.

Nissa was silent for a time. Staring into Lowes blood red eyes with her own 

gentle yet scorching red. The scarlet mark of a Shadow dweller

reflects the hunger in their blood. Their shadows are thin and wanting as they 

refuse to cling to that which they find unworthy. For this reason,in 

their youth when one is most ignorant and grasping they find themselves isolated

and starved save for small harvests wrought in petty ways of 

deception and subtle dominance for the sake of harvesting rays from dwellers

of the other planes. Unfortunately, many shadow dwellers, despite 

their age, do not leave their youth.

It was such a shame, Nissa realized, as becoming Queen was an accomplishment

gained only after traveling through the three planes and manifesting the fourth

through the combined knowledge of their customs and basic elements. Deep down

the core of the Dark City resonates as high as the frequency of the forests of

light, and at times even the rays of Aurora. They are not inherently lands of what one

might call "bad" or "evil" but their ways are of subtlety, of unspoken and 

passive natures. There is great power in these ways as the emotions and knowledge of

which Sentients are to receive and cultivate for future generations all begin in this place.It is 

both a blessing and a curse as it give these elements proper protection to grow, 

yet it also allows confusion and mistrust of the unknown to taint many of its seedlings.

As things had been the Dark City had been in equal Capacity to the forests of light.

In bare statistic this was not a issue, except that many of the Cities leaders

had become corrupt and greedy and so they took many resources from the rest of Kura

to maintain and yet produced little to contribute back to the lands. In fact, not far in 

times past had they made such selfish use of realms collective rays that the season of Aurora 

was reduced to one third of it's span of activity. Much of the forest of light then went

malnourished and much of it's small animal and plant life suffered a depletion of life. Looking

back on this, it was no surprise to the Queen that the seasons of Kura had turned their

tide to support the expansion of the forest. The dwellers of the Light Cities do

not deal in war. At least, not in a traditional sense. Their ways are in basis to cultivate rays

of the dark in the seasons of Aurora that the knowledge may be planted into the

forests under all the hues of Kura for the benefit of all. In wake of the dark ones' selfishness

they would not retaliate with force, but in knowing that the nature of the realms

 would surely recognize their pain and respond in kind to right the balance.

Knowing who Lord Lowe was, this acceptance alone was enough for Nissa 

to deal him a stern no and hear nothing more of him. She could easily cut him off and 

ignore for all the better reasons. But she could feel that something was rising. The

Dark Lands tipping the scales was only a beginning to a turning wheel that had little to do

with of any of the realms individual motives. For this reason she knew that drawing out

his thoughts and feelings was worth the effort of information she gained. Of course she would

tell him no. But...how and when seemed pivotal at this point.

"Well, you're Highness?" Lowe spat in his impatience.

The wheel of her thought's suddenly stopped spinning. Your highness...highness...

She repeated the words in her mind. Though it was less the words 

and more the triggers behind them that had fallen in to place. 

Eagerness

Planted

Do it!

Coming fast

End this

The call of  seedlings

"Emotions in bold over troubled tones..." Nissa spoke in low tones as the 

epiphany escaped her lips. "Crack the shells..." she mumbles. 

Her gaze trailing off with her

words.

"Excuse me?" Lord Low pressed.Nissa looked 

up suddenly. It had all come together.

Finally, she was ready to  give

her answer.

(I)nspiration

So here's how my story is as of right now. I'm gonna write it like it flows...listening to Scroobius Pip's song "Stunner" right now because I LOVE him. The way he articulates his feelings mixed rhythmically arousing beats gets my body and intellect pumped! It's great.

So yeah...this is about inspiration. I should make a note not to start my next sentence with "So". I try not to repeat words too much but we all have our stack of transitional statements that we tend to repeat,yes? Careful not to justify our actions by the decisions of the general public now. Insert winking face...why? Tendency to place a friendly face next to a possibly controversial statement. DO we all really have a stack of transitional statements? Someone wants to challenge me. Some people agree with me. Someones asking "And what if I don't" or more generally "what about the person who doesn't? Did you think about them?"

Oh, don't mind the voices in my hand (I'm editing this after reading and I said hand but meant head but I find it funny so I'm keeping it because I used my hands to type the voices in my head). It's just the patterns of humanity that I have absorbed speaking their say's of possible reactions. Here you are in the midst of a glimpse of one of my trains of thought. What does that have to do with inspiration? Has anyone asked that yet? Well I'm not very far in to my post but I think it's about the time I answer it anyway.

Soooo....does that one count if it has more O's than the first 2? Laughter within. Okay, careful not to veer to off course. I love my mind skating but, I do wish to explain.

What this all has to do with inspiration is Personal Flow. The soul. The Eternal/internal well spring. Self. God. Source. (of) Creation.- Those last three go together and separately if you get what I mean.

I've been lagging majorly hard on my blog posts and actually all my writing and creation for a while now. I was really frustrated. The first blog post I made I felt was GOLD all the others did express parts of me but were not quite what I wanted them to be. I was MAD! I wanted to erase them. They must all be as beautiful as the true QUEEN!  The queen of my true bleeding heart...but the truth is they were a bit strained. I wanted to write about the subjects they touch on but they were missing a certain raw emotion that one cannot force.

I have a bad habit of wanting to erase imperfections and start ALL over. Even now I'm thinking about taking out the first part of this post saying how I was doing this listening to Scroobius Pip because I'm not anymore. After I got into my own flow of thought, the music was too distracting (despite it's dopeness) so I let the youtube video go off and haven't bothered to press replay. Does that make my opening statement a lie? An imperfection in my literal honesty? One of my inner critics wants to say yes, or it's unnecessary but the truth is...it was true. Now it's just the past. And we know how existence works right? You can't reaaaly just erase things and start all over. Things matter, things effect. This is why we must learn to work with what we are given.

Working with what one is given, this thought brings us back to inspiration and getting in touch with myself. This is what I have been doing. Getting to know myself better because if I don't know how to tap water from my own well spring, my creativity and thus my quality of life suffer greatly. I want everything I do to be perfectly beautiful, like my post about the Queen of red and gold. But, I limited myself by thinking/feeling it would all look like this perfectly executed idea.

The best energy is RAW! It must be shaped but not so much so that it loses its defining vitality.

So here we have (I used "so" again...screw it) a perfect example of this work I have been doing. Tapping into my well and letting it flow as is yet shaped enough to express creatively in this blog post here. The outer fingers on my right hand (pink and...index) are burning because of how much I've typed, how fast I type and the way I type (which is entirely not the "proper" way and a whole other story to be told) so...this is where end this for today. I hope you had fun following me through a moment. I sure had fun following me.  (Smile arises as the expression of my genuine delight.)

A Queens Resolve

Everything must reach a climax, a peak. The highest point of conflict where a decision must be made. Feelings are like this as well.

It's become a time of confession for me. A time when I empty out my old baggage to make room for the new and better. But before the sweet relief of letting go is the well that builds up inside you made of all that held you back; the tension of your worst fears and worries pushing you to tears. The layer of things that got pushed aside under the weight of the strength that you use to move past these most uncomfortable things.

At this climax they can no longer be ignored. This is your vulnerable place. That raw sensitive part of you that knows all your truths and feels all sensations.

It's all staring you in the face now and pulsing through your veins. It beg's to know "What will you do with me?" Shall we continue on in this way or venture to release our ways and then, if you so choose to vanquish your demons the questions becomes "Then how shall you disperse me?". You venture into the waters to the waters to grasp the feeling of their currents and peer into what swims within them. You must understand it's ways to know how to ease it, yet this is no easy thing. To stand still among rapids? To brave the extremes of the churning tides?

I sit here in my flower bud, my petals upturned to face the core within. I examine my colors and I feel sadness, anxiety, the pain of feelings that can no longer be shared. These are not the effect of any particular event but of various elements that cause the rising and falling of the tides of my life. Friendships lost and friendships found, the loss or dampening of connections and the delving deeper into cherished ones. My fears as I face new ventures, options and decisions in my life. My anxiety in the face of my present and future as I stare my dreams in the face and ask myself "Are you ready for this? Can you handle it."

I don't want to mess up. I don't want to lose it all. I don't ever want to be able to say that I didn't give it my best. I don't want to give it my best and fail.

Friends, family, work, self, past, present, future...My relation to all these things in the palm of my hands, at the tip of my tongue, in the direction of my feet...

This, I think, is truly the weight of the world.

But I don't want my world to be so heavy. To be in strain for all the time I live is not really to be considered living in my eyes. So I hold on to the trust that I will see my way through my stress and come out with even shinier wings. It's not so serious, after all, that I don't remember this is only a moment and that I have already made it through so much. As my life becomes more intense and fulfilling I come to love it more and more. The more I love it the more I feel I have to lose and the fear builds that I will not be able to stand and protect this. If I were to buckle under my fears then I would truly prove myself right in the worst way. I can't stop myself from worrying or even stumbling sometimes under the weight of my shadows because I'm not perfect but, I remember that If I endure and keep in sight what matters most to me, then in the end I will not falter. In the end I will rise from bent knees gracefully to face the future that I desire with strength, skill, confidence, and authenticity.

The (Human) Experience

The other day I wrote a post full of pain and frustration. My account of the "Evil" ghost was a slightly forced writing on my part in an attempt to relieve myself of the headaches and dreams and general tense feelings I was getting from being frustrated with other people and myself. Other people for certain behaviors of theirs that brought me pain and myself for allowing things to effect me so greatly.

Writing it brought me no relief, actually. In fact the piece itself became this frustrating thing that made my head pulse uncomfortably just to think of it. Later that night as I lay sleepless, unable to enjoy the comfort of bed and the good company I was in (I was over a dearest friend of mines house for a sleepover at the time) as I could only recount in my head constantly my frustration and my attempts at pushing myself past the limits of caring to completely NOT care for these people in order to relieve my pain (to no avail)...I came to a resolve. I had to sleep and I had to resolve this, neither I could do in the state I was in. Teetering between love and hate is a terribly uncomfortably process.

So, I resolved to solve this once and for all. For the time being I let all my feelings rest, my desperate want for change and my anger of the lack there of. I resolved that during my time of sleep the answers to my problem would be revealed to me somehow and in the morning I would awake anew, ready to receive and enact my answer.

I awoke early morning to the warm glow of the sunrise shining though the window and painting it's lovely hue throughout the apartment. I took a refreshing breath as  I peaked my head from under the covers to take in the sight. The apartment was peacefully silent as everyone lay asleep and I was overcome with the vibrant tones of orange, yellow, and pink that offset the greys and white of the unlit room. I reflecting on the amazing week I had had, the amazing revitalizing days the sleepover had gifted me, and I thought of how the day ahead would gift me more of such amazing things. I took this truth in with deep breaths before cuddling back up with my husband and falling back into sleep until it was time to rise again to get ready for the day.

My day was off to an ideal start. I awoke revitalized with new breath and excited to explore my day and my answers. I wasn't sure how it would come to me but I knew that my resolve would draw my attention to the right places. On this day I went shopping with my sisters. We got up early to take the bus to the train to get to the Metra to meet up with their mother who (I didn't know at the time) was going to drive us all the way to Wisconsin to take advantage of their low prices. I was out with them pretty much all day, from about 9am to 10pm. Over this time I experienced many thoughts and observations. The highs and lows of the days. The fufillments and dissapointments.

At times I thought of my blog post and at times I thought of my frustration from the day before. Careful not to delve too deep into those stale emotions I took an overview of the parallel of their relevance to my day. Why did my blog post even in it's truths bring me such frustration? What was the point in trying to connect with people if they were going to bring me such frustration? I wondered....can a perfect day only be called so if it is filled flawlessly pleasing things? Certainly no relationship of mine has ever been flawlessly happy but is that to say that none of them were fulfilling and worth sticking through in the end? ...So if a perfect day is to be appreciated and remain unspoiled by it let downs, certainly this is to ring true of my perspective of dealings with other beings as well.

There was also a parallel to be seen in my feelings towards my blog post. Though my emotions were true enough at the time I couldn't help but find them to be drastic in many parts, whiny even and unappreciative of the better times I had shared with the people whom I was complaining about at the time. I struggled with punishing myself for posting it. I wondered how people would view me for saying such things and indeed how I felt about myself for the way I was handling things.I thought "Should I just take it down? But they were my feelings...even even they don't entirely capture the full picture...I mean..." I went back and forth in justifying my words and wanting to destroy them. Sound familiar to my views of how I was treating my connection to others? This of course bringing to mind how I treat others the way I treat myself.

So, what was my answer after all of this?

My answer is that the entirety of anything cannot be expressed in the snapshot of any one moment. Just as my blog post could not express all that I felt and learned about my experience with my feelings in one entry, just as a perfect day is made up of many moments in time, just as a relationship can take many turns, everything comes to reveal a vaster truth over time and experience and to focus on just one moment, one emotion, one side of things is to overlook the truths that all other pieces have brought you. So, I don't have to delete my blog posts or my friends, just let the story continue and allow things to be revealed in their own time.

Yesterday I had the thought that as Humans we just wish to experience each other in one way or another. Though I don't find that the want to experience is limited to human form as all things interact. We connect, we collide, we clash, we combine, we break and remake, we touch the surface and delve deeper, we walk through, around and over. All these things intertwine to create the true flow of life, truth, and wisdom as a whole.

The "Evil" Ghost

Red eyed, clad in black, her stare penetrating as she looms over my shoulder. Lips set in silence and yet her presence screams at me. I yearn for her and yet she frightens me so that I can also feel myself pulling away. The tension of being in between is driving me insane. The pressure pushes at my skull giving me headaches. 

I ask why and she says "Because you don't listen. You insist on forgetting. You push me away in the wake of foolishness. Squander my my gifts for the sake of being "considerate" and , of what, I ask you?"

And, of what, I ask my self....Time and time again I let my voice fade away. My knees buckle and heart is swayed. Not even before he who is worthy, my King, but at the beggings of those who only ask of me. Ask and plead and give hardly anything. Want and need but have nothing of offering. Nothing but empty hands emptier and promises. Weak hearts that spill not of love but desperation. 

Understanding, compassion, kindness, love, company, time, effort, money, ideas, touches, they pray of me and scorn me when I am withholding. They make me out a villian, a bitch, they call me selfish, inconsiderate...but I wish I could ask of them: How long would you have me wait?

Tell me how long would you have me wait for my own satisfaction? How long would you have me wait for an exchange equivalent? How long will you leave my heart in thirst as I pour unto you gold and receive in turn "..."

But in my wish to be loving and kind, to my own yearning I turn a blind eye and instead lay my sights upon those who call and I think that "Maybe waiting isn't so bad at all." Until, that is, at night I lay in my bed. Energy drained, dry, lethargic. Until, that is, I awake every morning yearning for the fulfillment of company yearning for the faces of those who call and praying this day is the end of it all. Praying this day we may touch upon a place that leaves me too with something to take...

So many leave me ever waiting and in my head I hear them saying  that if I truly cared I'd keep waiting, I'd try harder, I'd have fixed this already. It's my fault in the end, for not giving more...when I've given...all...I had to pour...

I always digress in my harsh words as I so fear growing cold. But in my words are the truth of my pain, the tendency to give more than I gain.

Herein lyes her scorn, the reason for her silent words. Unto me her ominous presence boring, tired of her feelings being ignored, of being left in the shadows and labeled such words...

Who is to blame? Who is at fault? Who is to perish in the flames of sins wrought?

Those who need...or she who see's and of herself gives no heed?

Or perhaps, burning is not what is needed. Perhaps merely a choice to be enacted. To hold my kindness and my power, to acknowledge my feelings and my compassion. To be patient without spilling so much blood...and embrace the ghost of what I need and want.

 

My dearest Lillith.

If you could see the world from my eyes you would understand why they cast their crimson red. Why they they are as a blade that does not bend and seeks with precision their desired interest. They are as they see, what is vibrant and alive. Piercing so because they cannot exist in any other way than as they are unless they wish not to be themselves. And for a time they were not. For how long a time had they been dulled to a simple deep brown? For how many a century did they yield to everything which they loved so to peer upon for fear of being frightening, for fear of being overbearing? So did they yield to please...to appease...in an attempt to prove the honor and dedication of mine heart to that which gifts me knowledge and thus my greatest pleasure, that which I claimed so to love: Everything.

A dolls eyes are eerie because of their blank stare. They follow you everywhere, watching, waiting for you to look upon them and reveal what you wish most to see. What most exhilarates you? Fear? Pleasure? Admiration? Obedience? All of these a doll can give if you allow her. But of these things she will be none truly. She will only be your doll and give you what you most desire so that you may love her, hold her, dress her, spill your secrets to her, forever. She prays for nothing more than to be loved and never let go, to be allowed to stay by your side for all time, to be praised as the beautiful precious thing that she yearns to be for you as her precious keeper and provider of all that she is and knows of life. Her self now the offering of her unconditional gratitude.

This was me for the duration of an unknown passage of time. Clinging to the desires of others, hoping that if I could serve their hearts desires that they would stay by my side that I may come to experience what it means to exist through the love of others, that I may give them what they want most in return for all I felt they had given me.

So where were those red eyes then? Where was the Queen who flashed before my minds eye in such clear visage on a hazy days ledge dressed in red and gold flowing robes breaking me from the shadows of my pitiful self for but a moment. Where was that Queen all this time who followed me in my dreams from that point on, dropping hints into my life painted with the colors of her own luminescent passion.

Waiting...waiting she says. Waiting for the moments when I could pass through my fears to ascend the steps to her embrace at last. I struggled to find my way to her. I clawed through layers upon layers of possibility, of madness, of weakness, of illusion...for some unknown passage of time...to meet her gaze and hold it firmly, to embrace her and never let go.

I could never forget the disappointment in her eyes; the tears in her heart and mine on the night she came to me in sleep and reached out for me and in fear I let myself drift away from her. Myself, I could not remember ever seeing so clearly, so strong and lovely. And the blood red of her eyes...Not one day has gone by since then that I have not summoned the image of them to inspire myself to go on.

She is the pulse of the wild refined, she is my piercing gaze and intoxicating wiles, she is my rich blood and golden breath, she is my passion and eloquence. She is the Queen of my Chaos and keeper of the part of me that is most unwavering in it's honesty.

What she sees with her sharp eyes is the interlacing of all things. The intricate patterns by which the universe turns and makes and remakes and lives and dies upon itself within every deciding moment of existence. She lives in this delicate place as the Ever Queen of her most precious pieces of self, as she who has mastered our senses and ways and guides us in the continuous painting of our master piece. It is through me that she lives, and it is in her that I exist.

She is...