It's a MAD MAD world

I've had this song stuck in my head lately...it's "Somewhere Over The Rainbow." It's the lyrics that really keep running threw my brain, not really the music, just the words. And if I am not hearing and thinking "where troubles melt like lemon drops" then I am finding myself reciting the lyrics to "Mad World" and I can't help but realize how these two songs represent the world at large today, well society, people, governments, people, business....money, you name it..the whole world or everyone on it or maybe it's just how I see things...my "filter" to use a socio-psychology term.
BUT the truth is that for the majority of the world's inhabitants we do live in a "Mad World" where most us dream of a life "over the rainbow, where our troubles do melt away like lemon drops." I know I do.
For me to say anything else would be a flat out lie, and honestly...I'm sick of the lies. I've had it up to my neck (and higher) with the lies and dishonesty...(Yes POLITICIANS...I'm looking and talking to YOU!)
There was this line in this movie, "Fried Green Tomatoes" where one of the main characters says to a man "Are you a politician or does lying just run in your family?"  Truer words were never more eloquently put.

Soapbox Drama

I like to rant....can you tell? If you have read some of my other posts you would get that about me. But sometimes I think there is a sliver (or maybe a thin slice, slightly more then a sliver) of truth to my rants..at least truth's that are evident to me. I guess we can all have our ranting moments, whether they are Ranting like a Mad Man/Woman, Prophet or merely momentary Soapbox Drama's.

Deadly Sin

Something about the way he moved threw the crowded dance floor…as if everything else was in slow motion but he seemed to glide threw the dancing bodies swaying and moving to the music…He was made of something slippery and smooth… made of ether, something not so base as human flesh and bone. He came closer to his prey with the smooth stride of a confident killer.

I knew I was dead before he even said a word to me. One look from across this dizzy crowded dance floor was all it took and I didn’t care. Was it right or wrong what I was feeling, I didn’t think twice, simply tipped my chin down in a coy shyness but my eager eyes looked up in anticipation of what might be. If a deadly sin could be made manifest in physical form, he would be Lust.

He wasn’t the most handsome in the room, but he seemed to shine to pull me in like a massive black hole swallowing everything, pulling all around him in. I was being crushed and pulled into a smothering darkness and I loved every tantalizing moment of it. Such sweet torture this painful anticipation of his touch, his breath, his gaze…I held my breath waiting for just the slightest hint of wanting.

Can you see now? Can you understand what I felt? Why I feel in love with him, in lust with him…how he held such a powerful spell over me? I suppose if you have never felt anything like it, then how can you relate to me…I don’t know how to put it…maybe as an addiction, he was my addiction in all ways that addictions begin, with just a little of something and that something grows bigger more immense so that it consumes you and instead of you wanting it, it feeds off of you and is the driving force of your very existence, there is nothing more…just this addiction that you must satisfy or perish eternally with out it.

And without, is something you can not even begin to think about. The addiction is you as you are the addiction; it’s all that there is. Junkies, Alcoholics, Pothead’s, Smokers…they all can understand what I am saying. Sex addicts, Chocoholics, Clean Freaks and those with OCD’s can possibly relate to what I am saying.

To know something is bad for you, that it’s killing you…but you’re so far gone, so deep within your addiction that you can’t see anything other then fulfilling the next need, the next fix. When you are without, you think you can hold out, not give in, that you can actually quit and beat it…go cold turkey and call the shots. But after a little, very little, while you realize you are not in control, you’re just a puppet on strings and your addiction is playing you like a fiddle, a finely tuned fiddle…and you’re dancing to its tune it’s playing for you, about you, of you…just for you.

That’s what he was to me, my addiction.  He was heaven, he was hell, he was my world and when he wasn’t there, I was in misery and when he was with me I was in heaven being tortured by the most beautiful angel that the gods could have sent me.

Can you imagine what it’s like to dream of only a gaze or a slight touch, the breath of the one you lust for just brushing against your skin? He could trace his finger down my cheek and I would shiver with delight…can you imagine that kind of ecstasy? Not many can. Was it a blessing that I got to feel that intense of emotion, of passion for the time I had with him? Or was it a tragedy that I would get to taste that unrestrained lust and desire and never have it again? I can’t decide which. Maybe you could help me understand it all, but I doubt it if you have never known that kind of love and desire. If you have then you would bear the same burden and scars that I have endured and you would have your own cautionary tale to tell…wouldn’t you?

Now for something totally different...

I just might get addicted to this blog thing...if I can make it a regular to do, it might just become a habitual ritual. Well...I decided that it has been way to long since I have written, well...really anything, so I took to re-writing a piece of fiction I originally started back in 2003 (see what I mean about the procrastination?) so I thought to myself..."self..you really should start writing again and post it on your blog thing." And of course, I agree with me about this suggestion. So here I am again (more the once in the same month!! Holy Hanna's Stockings!) posting what I have re-written so far. It's just another way for me to be creative, get the ol' brain a working and maybe even get a little self-expression out there. If you like, take a peak or two. Part 1 is below here:

The Black Knight

Written By: JLB

I have many friends who look back at their past relationships with ease of mind and some happy memories.  Some of my friends still even talk to their ex-boyfriends…imagine that!  I haven’t been so lucky to have a relationship end in good feelings, a hug and a promise to keep in touch.  I shudder to think what a chance meeting, let alone conversation, with a certain ex-boyfriend of mine would be like.  Visions of the four horsemen start floating into my mind, well…maybe not that apocalyptic but damn close.

All I have to do is think about him, not even him, a moment…just a single unassuming moment that set events in motion that would change me forever or at least for this lifetime. A single reflection on that moment, on him and the nervous twitch starts, the hair raising tingle at the back of my neck and of course paranoia that makes me look over my shoulder every second, ready to jump out of my skin.

I keep expecting him to materialize in front of me out of nowhere, a ghost from my past paying an unwelcome visit.  He would be my own personal Jacob Marley come not to save my soul…but to condemn it.  The memory of him has become a looming specter that chills and haunts my memories.

It might be a cliche, but I saw him from far away on that fateful, bright morning. Odd to think of the irony behind it all…doesn’t a horror story always start with “a dark and dreary night”…not in this story of mine. Imagine the most beautiful morning, clear sky the color of Caribbean waters with a few fluffy, white cotton ball clouds floating lazily in all that clear blue.  The air was crisp and clean, and as my friend and I walked arm in arm through the park, the sunlight filtered down threw the tree tops creating wispy shafts and pools of light. It was a moment I will never forget, our laughter as we whispered to each other and our giggles when a young man’s gaze would rest upon us. This was the beginning of the end of my innocence.  A beautiful day, of all things, to usher in the darkness and horror that would become my world.

This was the first Renaissance Faire I had ever been too. I was very excited and enchanted by all the sights, smells, sounds and of course the handsome men in armor.  To be nineteen and dressed like a medieval princess at a Renaissance Faire was a very heady experience, I felt myself blush when people would look at me, I wasn’t used to that kind of attention.  My friend Laura had led me around the Faire, introducing me to lords and ladies from all over the realm.  Hundred’s of spectators had come to tour the Faire and watch the knight’s tournament.  Being that Laura and I were dressed for the event and there with a small medieval reenactment group, we were expected to portray a certain character to the crowd, as to offer entertainment and historical realism to the festival.

Laura was Lily of Devonshire, a young handmaiden to the royal Queen Gertrude.  Lily’s family had sent her to court when she was a young girl, and had been a handmaiden for the Queen for many years. I was also chosen to be a handmaiden to the Queen and was afforded the honored position of sitting in the royal box at the center of the tournament activity.  In all there were no less then six handmaidens for the Queen.  King Henry sat next to his Queen on their well appointed thrones over seeing the day’s events and awarding treasures to all of the victorious knights.  I was Genevieve of Gunderland, an upper class young woman from a small Bavarian estate, my father a wealthy cloth merchant was able to send me to stay with family closer to court so that I might find an eligible man to take my hand in marriage. 

I know it must sound silly, but our persona's were very detailed, they had to be so that we could portray them to the best of our ability and make the characters come to life for our audience.  With all of the costumes, the atmosphere, the cheering crowd, the clang of weapons hitting armor…it was so easy to fall into your character and in a way, lose yourself in it.  It was, up to that point, the most intoxicating, rich experiences I had in my life.  I was giddy with excitement and as the knights fought in front of the royal box and all crowd, I giggled and smiled with Laura next to me.

  People chattered and whispered to each other as the knights checked their armor and weapons.  The Herald came forward to introduce the first two Knights that would open the sword competition.  A short, round man hurried to stand before the King and Queen and waited for the crowd to quiet.  He looked rather silly standing there still as a statue on his skinny, short purple hose covered legs, he reminded me of a grape on a twig for his belly was rather rotund and covered by an emerald green and purple tunic. On his feet were very long and pointy shoes, one purple and one green and a top his head was a round, floppy velvet hat with an extremely large white feather sticking out of it.  Laura and I both tried to not giggle and the Queen shot us a disapproving look which made us quiet and sit up straight.  Still it was all I could do to not burst out laughing.  The Herald now having the full attention of the audience, swept his hat off his bald head and bowed deeply to the King and Queen. His voice was deep and booming despite his short stature.  I remember looking intently at the Herald and hearing him say:

“Your Majesties, Lords and Ladies and all common folk…here is the event that you have waited to see, attend your eyes to the power and skill of the Knights that have come to fight and win in today’s tournament.” I don’t remember anything else that the Herald said at that moment…something shimmered in the corner of my eye and my eyes quickly glanced to that sparkling light.  A Knight, dressed in black armor, stood inspecting his sword in the sunlight at the edge of the arena.  His helmet was on and I could not see his face, but something made me stare, I was fixed upon him and even to this day I do not know why or how…but I became very aware of my starring and so did the Knight who seemed to return my fixated gaze.  I couldn’t look away, even though I knew I should.

“Genevieve…” a voice whispered close to me.  A hand patted my arm.  “Genevieve.”

I realized that Lily had been trying to get my attention. 

“Oh.  I’m so sorry. What were you saying?” I whispered back to her. 

“What are you starring at?” She laughed lightly.

“Nothing…I just was distracted.” I lowered my eyes to my lap for a moment before looking back up at the Herald who was now leaving the arena to cheers and applause from the crowd. 

On a lung and a prayer

So...yet again I am several months in returning to post in the ol' blog (no surprise there). This time I am very sick, I mean I know now there is a difference between a sniffle, a head cold, a cold, a virus, the flu and then there is very sick, very very sick and deathly ill. I think I am at the very (possibly one more very) sick stage. I started feeling just gross over a week ago...went to the doctor and the doctor said...I have pneumonia. Joy. That would explain why I can't breath and I sound like the crypt keeper or a hard core smoker (don't freak..I don't smoke). Smoking would probably be one of the stupidest things I could do considering my asthma and generally crappy condition of my lungs.
So enough about my sickness....I just wanted to pop in and jot something down. Don't want my blog to get all insecure and think I am neglecting it (but between you and me I have been) if you look at the dates of my posts you will see what I mean...light bulb anyone?
And so now I think I have run out of things to type about, honestly...my brain is so muddled right now due to all the damn medicines I am taking...you know that old saying "sometimes the cure is worse then the illness?" yeah...you can prove that right by me.
So with a wheeze and a cough I bide you farewell for now.

Another Day...Another Madness

I haven't been here in awhile...if there is one truth about me it's this..."I'm consistently inconsistent." In fact I can't quite think at this moment since there is so much chaos going on around me, that I am going to say good bye for now...hopefully I can get my train of thought back on the tracks...hopefully.

My first post...wow

Am I supposed to say...dear diary...dear journal...dear log...okay dear blog....okay never mind. I guess I will figure it out as time goes by.


Not much excitement today in the land of mass confusion (I am referring to my home life, NOT some kind of social-political-economical comment).
Nope, nothing big going on...just an ordinary day. 
Started my day out listening to Alice Cooper and AC/DC and I just finished listening to Kate Bush and Tori Amos. I wonder what that says about me? Hmmm..probably nothing...oh well.
I listen to music while I am creating, I like to make graphics in Paint Shop Pro (PSP), it's really become my obsession, well hobby...nope obsession. I create sig tags for people to use. It's my way of expressing myself artistically. It's really been my only "outlet" for awhile. 


Here is something I made recently:

(Made this one while listening to Ani DiFranco)

I have been really bored..which is surprising with as much "work" there is around my home, but you know, it's the kind of work I really don't wanna do. I don't like cleaning, probably one of my biggest blahs, probably why I don't clean very often...but when I do get the cleaning bug, you'd better look out. At least my cleaning bouts don't last long and then it's back to life as usual. 


Here is another one I made:

(I've been on a red and black kick..can you tell? 

Made this one while listening to the SUCK soundtrack)

I started this blog thing to try something new. I am not real jazzed about all those social networking sites (no offense meant to the Tweaters (sounds perverted doesn't it? HA!) or to the MySpacers or the Facebookers) really I don't mean to be a pain or insult anyone or in any insinuate that social networking sites are scary at best (c'mon they are a stalker's dream) or cashing in on collecting and selling our personal information at worst.
Okay, so I am a bit paranoid and yes I am slightly cynical...okay more then slightly.
So..I thought blogging would be safer I guess somehow, and the upside is that I can type much faster then I can write thanks to all those typing lessons (Thanks Mrs. Kruppchek for my Freshmen year typing class).


So, here I am..giving it a whirl..seeing how this goes. If it goes anywhere I don't know. 
I usually start something and I am the kind of person that if it takes more then um, an hour to complete, I usually give up. I'm just rambling..Captain Obvious, that's me. 
Well, so...um I'm done...will be back later I suppose, unless I forget, which is always a huge probability with me, I have a tendency to be consistently inconsistent. 


Ta-Ta for now and all that stuff.