Aishiteru

This proves that Darwin was just wrong wrong wrong ALL WRONG

2008-01-13T05:05:24Z

Survival of the fittest, my butt. It's hard to know how to react to this....should I be sad that there are people who are this pathetic or should I simply laugh my head off at just how stupid people can be? Choices, choices *bangs head on desk*

*The 2007 Darwin Awards*

*Yes, it's that magical time of year again when the Darwin Awards are
bestowed, honoring the least evolved among us.*

*Here is the glorious winner:*

*1.*
*When his 38-caliber revolver failed to fire at his intended victim
during a hold-up in Long Beach , California , would-be robber James
Elliot did something that can only inspire wonder. He peered down the
barrel and tried the trigger again. This time it worked.*

*And now, the honorable mentions:*

*2.*
*The chef at a hotel in Switzerland lost a finger in a meat-cutting
machine and, after a little shopping around, submitted a claim to his
insurance company. The company expecting negligence sent out one of its
men to have a look for himself. He tried the machine and he also lost a
finger. The chef's claim was approved.*

*3.*
*A man who shoveled snow for an hour to clear a space for his car
during a blizzard in Chicago returned with his vehicle to find a woman
had taken the space. Understandably, he shot her.*

*4.*
*After stopping for drinks at an illegal bar, a Zimbabwean bus driver
found that the 20 mental patients he was supposed to be transporting
from Harare to Bulawayo had escaped. Not wanting to admit his
incompetence, the driver went to a nearby bus stop and offered everyone
waiting there a free ride. He then delivered the passengers to the
mental hospital, telling the staff that the patients were very excitable
and prone to bizarre fantasies. The deception wasn't discovered for 3
days.*

*5.*
*An American teenager was in the hospital recovering from serious head
wounds received from an oncoming train. When asked how he received the
injuries, the lad told police that he was simply trying to see how close
he could get his head to a moving train before he was hit.*

*6.*
*A man walked into a Louisiana Circle-K, put a $20 bill on the counter,
and asked for change. When the clerk opened the cash drawer, the man
pulled a gun and asked for all the cash in the register, which the clerk
promptly provided. The man took the cash from the clerk and fled,
leaving the $20 bill on the counter. The total amount of cash he got
from the drawer... $15.

[If someone points a gun at you and gives you money, is a crime
committed?]*

*7.*
*Seems an Arkansas guy wanted some beer pretty badly. He decided that
he'd just throw a cinder block through a liquor store window, grab some
booze, and run. So he lifted the cinder block and heaved it over his
head at the window. The cinder block bounced back and hit the would-be
thief on the head, knocking him unconscious. The liquor store window was
made of Plexiglas. The whole event was caught on videotape.*

*8.*
*As a female shopper exited a New York convenience store, a man grabbed
her purse and ran. The clerk called 911 immediately, and the woman was
able to give them a detailed description of the snatcher. Within
minutes, the police apprehended the snatcher. They put him in the car
and drove back to the store. The thief was then taken out of the car and
told to stand there for a positive ID. To which he replied, "Yes,
officer, that's her. That's the lady I stole the purse from."*

*9.*
*The Ann Arbor News crime column reported that a man walked into a
Burger King in Ypsilanti , Michigan, at 5 A.M., flashed a gun, and
demanded cash. The clerk turned him down because he said he couldn't open the cash
register without a food order. When the man ordered onion rings, the
clerk said they weren't available for breakfast. The man, frustrated,
walked away. [*A 5-STAR STUPIDITY AWARD WINNER]*

*10.*
*When a man attempted to siphon gasoline from a motor home parked on a
Seattle street, he got much more than he bargained for. Police arrived
at the scene to find a very sick man curled up next to a motor home near
spilled sewage. A police spokesman said that the man admitted to trying
to steal gasoline and plugged his siphon hose into the motor home's
sewage tank by mistake. The owner of the vehicle declined to press
charges saying that it was the best laugh he'd ever had.*

Happy New Year 2008!

2008-01-03T05:04:35Z

Yeah, I'm late, as usual. Sue me. :p Happy New Year, folks. Do yourselves a favour: love the one you're with, love the ones you're NOT with, give away the change in that hitherto unnoticed pocket of your jeans (with pocket lint and all....show's that you care and such ;-) ), cherish the little things like a spontaneous origami gift from a Japanese stranger you sat next to on your cruise, remember that life really is too short to sweat the small stuff (hell, even the big stuff is a pain in the ass) and hope travels far.

Peace, y'all.

T.

I'm a doubting thomas, I don't keep my promises

2007-06-05T04:27:00Z

Warm humid breezes whip my hair, caress my face.....lights flicker and fade in clouds that are pregnant with moisture. Summer's coming. Really, when I think about it, she's already here, isn't she? That fickle season that feels so much more special when you're living here in the South amongst the honeysuckle and sakura. Mandolins are playing in my ears, in my head, that hard strum that leaves my chest heavy but not. It's hard to describe what it's like to be alone but not necessarily lonely. I've got books, television but it's always music that has all of my attention, from the time I wake up until I close my eyes deep into the warm inky darkness.

Summer...her arrival is fortuitous...I can't think of a better way to spend it than on the porch
a starless night for company
haunting voices to remind me that I still have a soul.

What will be left when I've drawn my last breath
Besides the folks I've met and the folks who've known me
Will I discover a soul-saving love
Or just the dirt above and below me

I'm a doubting Thomas
I took a promise
But I do not feel safe
Oh me of little faith

Sometimes I pray for a slap in the face
Then I beg to be spared cause I'm a coward
If there's a master of death
I bet he's holding his breath
As I show the blind and tell the deaf about his power

I'm a doubting Thomas
I can't keep my promises
Cause I don't know what's safe
Oh me of little faith

Can I be used to help others find truth
When I'm scared I'll find proof that it's a lie
Can I be led down a trail dropping bread crumbs
That prove I'm not ready to die

Please give me time to decipher the signs
Please forgive me for time that I've wasted

I'm a doubting Thomas
I'll take your promise
Though I know nothin's safe
Oh me of little faith

Dunno how I forgot about this....

2007-05-23T16:25:26Z

Nicole started it so I figured "what the hell?":

Please leave a three-word comment that you think best describe me. It can only be three words. No more. Then copy & paste this in your journal so that I may leave a word about you.

For still I run...

2007-05-21T03:19:06Z

Dreams...they're very fickle things. They're either amazingly detailed or just plain odd. I think this falls in both categories, strangely enough, but I didn't want to make it a full fledged story so...I improvised...and truncated...and left out a LOT. It gave me a headache just trying to resurrect the details from my sleep-fogged brain. Anyway, I dreamt it so I felt some obligation to share....get rid of it so it wouldn't keep worrying at me like a boo-boo on a child's knee.

Morning dawns slowly in the southern half of the province as the sun makes its slow stride across the heavens. The landscape is blanketed with near silence; no chirping birds, no lowing of cattle or bleating of sheep. Nothing save for the occasional rusty hoots and chugs of machinery clearly past its prime.

Minutes drag by as the lonely sounds can be heard coming inexorably closer until a large object shadows the horizon. Two figures can be seen riding atop a sleek, ancient diesel engine as it speeds down an (until recently) unused stretch of dual rails.

“We’re going really fast!”

“What?” the driver yells to be heard above the din in the engine room below him.

“Fast! I said really fast!” his passenger shouts in reply.

The boy-man engineer nods emphatically. Orange earplugs bob in both ears as his head moves to respond. “Oh yeah, well Uncle and Grand-Uncle started scrubbin’ these rails ‘bout five years ago. Brother-boy clears weeds and carcasses from the track and they scrub.” He pats the newly painted skin of the bullet-shaped engine with obvious pride. Both engineer and passenger sit in silence for a time, enjoying the chill wind rushing through the open cockpit wheelroom as the sun’s rays bathe the countryside in orangish-silvery light.

“Ah found this beauty outside o’ the city. You saw it a ways back,” he continues in his thick, rhythmic dialect, cocking a calloused thumb behind him. His equally youthful-looking passenger is half-listening as his bright eyes dart to and fro in an effort to take in as much of this new world as possible.

He starts in surprise when he feels a strong poke in his side. “Ker, are you still a-listenin’?” The young man sits ramrod straight and waves his hands in denial.

“No, no! I heard everything you said, Millen. It’s just…” Ker’s voice trails off. “I’ve never been this far outside of the Compound before. I never knew any of this existed.”

Millen snorts in derision at Ker’s mention of his home. “Ain’t never understood why anyone would want ta live all closed in like chickens in a pen. What were yer elders thinkin’?”

The inquisitive light in Ker’s eyes is replaced by wistful contemplation at the comment. “I don’t know,” he admits. “They told us that there was nothing left out here…that we were safer all in one place, together. Saying there was strength in numbers.”

“Hmph, sounds like brain-sick nonsense to me. A man’s got ta have his space. That’s what my elders say,” Millen growls as he adjusts one of the valves nearest to his hand and tugs on the throttle. “Hang on, kid. Gonna give us a bit more gas.”

Ker gripped the rails on his perch in the wheelroom a little tighter at suggestion of his new friend. “Gas?” he inquires, his freckled nose wrinkling with curiousity.

The engineer flashes him a wolfish grin. “Speed, son! Speed!” Excited laughs fill the air as the sudden rush of acceleration nearly throws them both to the metal-plated floor.

Hours later, when both boys were fatigued from their journey and the mid-afternoon heat shimmered off the rails, they would swear they heard a song on the wind, one that possibly came from the train itself:

“Though years have left me bare
And my tracks they will have shunned
When no one is left to care
It matters not, for still I run.”

If only..

2007-05-06T03:15:03Z

If only you weren't in my mind, randomly shocking me out of my self-induced torpor
Perhaps my thoughts would be quieter, less inquisitive.

If only you weren't in my life, taking up the space inside me that would have otherwise been
unoccupied
empty.

If only you weren't that something I've grown to look forward to
In my otherwise chaotic world filled with people I don't wish to know
and events I'd rather not be involved in

If only I lacked the genetic wherewithal to have feelings, to care
Perhaps things would not be quite so difficult

There are so many could-haves, would-haves, should-haves
but no answers
only more questions that draw me deeper into myself
As the light above me grows dimmer

Who would have thought that these things could affect me so much?

Another day among the dead

2007-04-16T23:29:12Z

This is another sad, sad day. A young man once again his armed himself to the teeth and executed 32 people in classrooms, dormitories and other areas of Virginia Tech, about an hour and some change from where I live. It was like 9-11 all over again for me. Again, I was working and oblivious to everything else when one of the managers in the corporate office conversed with someone near me in a shaken voice "He's all right. My son is all right. He just called me." My ears pricked up but I had no idea what the hell was going on....eventually I made my way to the break room where CNN was broadcasting video footage taken from students' cell phone cameras of gunshots, running, panicked students and exploding windows. No one knows this man, he has no identification on him. He chose to be a John Doe for whatever reason, walked onto an open campus and rained down hell on unsuspecting students. Perhaps this man felt he was a vigilante, trying to right some wrong that had been done to him or someone he loved. Perhaps it was for no reason at all. I'd hate to think it was the latter. If it was, then the world is already the powder keg I believe it to be, who throws in the match only circumstance or fate will tell.

Shades of the past

2007-04-10T03:21:49Z

So I've managed to do a good deal of catching up with my past as of late. MySpace was actually good for SOMETHING other than being a breeding ground for the emo, the whack and the oddly entertaining.

A few members of my former partying group got in touch with me after an approximately 15 year absence. I never realised just how much I missed the insane drama, the stoned musings and the hilarious antics of our tiny "clan".

Uncle Wiggly now has children of his own (who I'm sure will prove him wrong and grow up to be just like him in one way or another)
Rob is still the studly boy and intellectual who can still get both the guy AND the girl if he so chose and Tara is close by though I didn't know it. Hopefully I'll get to catch up with them all at some point. A group visit would be inordinately fun, I think.

AGAIN, this is Lori's fault. Blasted woman!

2007-03-21T02:44:31Z

All right, my peeps! It's time to get down to some serious reading. GOODREADS.COM. I swear, you won't be able to stop yourself (those of you who enjoy reading...not those OTHER people *pft*).

I've gone a little insane already >_>

This is all Lori's fault...

2007-03-08T21:42:46Z

Whatever idiotic urge I had to take this test, I will blame on wyldlifecogal

The Everything Test

There are many different types of tests on the internet today. Personality tests, purity tests, stereotype tests, political tests. But now, there is one test to rule them all.

Traditionally, online tests would ask certain questions about your musical tastes or clothing for a stereotype, your experiences for a purity test, or deep questions for a personality test.We're turning that upside down - all the questions affect all the results, and we've got some innovative results too! Enjoy :-)

Personality

You are more logical than emotional, more concerned about others than concerned about self, more atheist than religious, more dependent than loner, more lazy than workaholic, more traditional than rebel, more artistic mind than engineering mind, more idealist than cynical, more leader than follower, and more extroverted than introverted.

As for specific personality traits, you are adventurous (90%), intellectual (73%), romantic (71%), artistic (55%).

Stereotypes
Punk Rock	87%
Old Geezer	83%
Young Professional	82%

Life Experience
Sex	23%
Substances	14%
Travel	47%

Politics
Your political views would best be described as Socialist, whom you agree with around 78% of the time.

Socioeconomic
Your attitude toward life best associates you with Upper Class. You make more than 0% of those who have taken this test, and 4% more than the U.S. average.

If your life was a movie, it would be rated PG-13.
By the way, your hottness rank is 40%, hotter than 59% of other test takers.

TAKE THE TEST
brought to you by thatsurveysite

Just when you think some things couldn't get any weirder

2007-03-03T16:07:58Z

So apparently the good Dr. Ruth Westheimer was trained as an Israeli military sniper. Who knew?? O_o

http://www.snopes.com/medical/doctor/drruth.asp

Sappho's Leap....

2007-02-12T22:36:35Z

I love this book already. I'll leave an excerpt, if you'll permit me that indulgence:

So many stories about me (Sappho). My legend confused with the legends of Aphrodite. Did I leap to my death for the love of some handsome young ferryman? Did I love women or men? Does love even have a sex? I doubt it. If you are lucky enough to love, who cares what decorative flesh your lover sports? The divine delta, that juicy fig, the powerful phallus, that scepter of state--each is only an aspect of Aphrodite, after all. We are all hermaphrodites at heart, aren't we? The delta is as soft as Aphrodite, that phallus stiff as Ares' spear. And no one wears anything for long but a coat of dust. Only the songs of passion linger.

In search of a cure...

2007-02-12T03:41:39Z

Books are a salve for the soul....ever my most cherished refuge from things I'd rather not face. We went to Barnes and Noble for a bit of retail therapy and, several books later, I feel hermit-like. One would think that lazing about amongst the book aisles for almost six hours would be enough for me. I don't think it ever can be. My latest purchases (over which I am giddy with anticipation) are "Japan: A Traveler's Companion" by Jeffery Angles and Thomas Rimer, "Falling Leaves: The Memoir of an Unwanted Chinese Daughter" by Adeline Yen Mah, "Sappho's Leap" by Erica Jong (this one I may start first; it looks VERY intriguing), and "Mistress of the Art of Death" by Ariana Franklin.

My hermitage awaits, along with tea and one slightly dented alarm clock.

What is the heart but a sack of sympathy for a bag of bones...

2007-02-11T17:02:02Z

"...I ask myself now: Was there ever a great true love? Anyone who became the object of my obsession not simply my affections? I honestly don't think so. In part, this was my fault. It was my nature, I suppose. I could not let myself become that unmindful. Isn't that what love is--losing your mind?...Did I know any woman who escaped having her heart crushed like a recyclable can? Not a one. From what I have observed, when the anesthesia of love wears off, there is always the pain of consequences."

If love is so simple, then why must it be so difficult?

2007-02-05T14:31:47Z

My lungs filled with liquid fire, an angry burning in my chest, in my mind. Your words, with their inordinate power to hurt more than heal at times...they confuse me and make me react in ways I'd rather not. You make it so easy to command the armour to do my bidding. So easy. I don't even know if I can trust your smile anymore because I keep seeing double meanings behind it. What is truth? What is real? What is it that you really want? I'm afraid that I can't give it to you...that I never had what you needed from the start but we both kept on pretending that I did anyway.

Part of me is really sad about that. It's like I can feel the ending coming in the heavy, pressured silence before a tornado strikes, destroying all in its path. We're becoming undone and all I can do is watch, numb and unsure. Where do we go from here? That's the million dollar question, isn't it? You take my hand, we laugh and laugh, but the crying and screaming from within can be heard for miles. Almost too late. Closer and closer to the edge, I step over into the emptiness and hope it won't hurt so much when I fall.

The Boston Lang Tea Party

2007-01-25T23:44:50Z

Ok, so apparently writing and such should not happen when we're both sick. All sorts of strange ideas come to fruition and thus we give you Voyage to the Bottom of the Tea - The Boston Lang Tea Party Edition:

Our story begins with one Fregattenkapitän Natsuki Kruger of the Brandenburg-class frigate DuranDuran who was craving her morning tea only to find that it the ship's stores were running low; the direct result of a daring raid made by Tai Sa (Captain) Viola Shizuru of the famous Yamato-class battleship The Princess Harumichi earlier in the week. It was bad enough that she had to man this newfangled ship with only a skeleton crew of her best students from the Garderobe Naval Academy. But to have the best tea in Windbloom swiped by that smug woman was almost too much to bear. Kapitän Kruger sat in her command chair on the bridge and gave her frightfully empty teacup an annoyed glare. After much inward wailing and gnashing of teeth, Kruger decided that she was going to beat Viola at her own game. Let's have a look, shall we?

"IRINA. Set the course! We're headed for Viola's tea ship...."

"But... but Gakuenchou!! Shizuru onee-sama is..."

"I DONT CARE WHAT SHE IS! You LISTEN to me or you get off my ship!"

"A..AAA HAI, GAKUENCHOU!!!!"

"That's better. NINA. RECON. NOW."

"Yes, Gakuenchou! *salutes*"

"Excellent... everything is moving along well...."

"Ne, ne, Nat-"

*GLARE...*

"Ahahaha, GAKUENCHOU-SAN!!! ... why are you trying to sink Shizuru-san's tea ship...?"

"... It's none of your business, Mai."

"Oh, come on, Natsuki.... what happened...?"

".... she shrunk my riding jacket.... T_T"

"... Ah... so it's that bad..."

"It's worse! That onna stole the last bit of our shipment of tea right out from underneath our noses! Blast that idiot Haruka!... FULL SPEED, IRINA!!!! TELL ENGINEERING!!!!!!! *waves hand*"

"Aya, why couldn't Viola-sama let Gakuenchou do her OWN laundry this time." Lt. Irina bemoaned.

"What was that, helm?"

"N-nothing, Gakuenchou! Full Speed it is!"

*Grumbles incoherently and sits down in overly elaborate Captain/Headmaster throne-chair as Gal comes to report from Engineering*

"Your PEEEMPDOM! Engines all good! YES! Good!"

"GAL-SAN!"

"Hai, Gakuenchou!"

"Shut up and get down on your kne--I mean GET BELOW, you hacker rat! I want that tea within an hour!"

Gal salutes so quickly she almost tears off an antenna. "Ryoukai!"

"And damnit, Gal! Haven't I told you not to address me like that!?! It's CAPTAIN KRUGER to you!"

Meanwhile, on the battleship Fujino, Lt. Cmdr. Tomoe snapped to attention beside the ever-calm Captain Shizuru...

"Shizuru-sama, Captain Kruger requests to board you."

"Permission granted, if she does so personally."

"E-eh?! B-but Shizuru-sama, Captain Kruger sounds a bit...testy" *wince*"

"Don't worry, Commander Tomoe, I've got the solution for that riiight here." *smirks and glances down at her own ample bosom*

*Tomoe's eyes nearly bug out of her head*"You do?! Ahem! *cough cough* I mean, ROGER THAT!"

Needless to say, the exchange that ensued had the crews of both ships shaking with fright as it seemed the situation would escalate a bit further than planned...

"SHIZURU! THIS IS CAPTAIN KRUGER OF THE DURANDURAN! STAND DOWN, OR WE WILL BE FORCED INTO HOSTILITY."

"Ara, Natsuki? Is that you? My, you sound so grown up when you're being demanding. Why, I haven't heard you use that tone with me since last ni-"

"AAAAAAARGHLKJELSK SHIZURU! DAMNIT JUST SURRENDER YOUR CARGO IMMEDIATELY AND NO ONE WILL BE HARMED!!!"

"My cargo? Is that what you're calling it now? "

".... Shi...zu...ru.... *rage* The tea. Now. Hand it over and I MIGHT let your ship escape unscathed."

"Maa maa, why don't you just come aboard and join me for some tea, if you want it so badly. I'm sure you'd enjoy it much more when properly made. We can use my private quarters for.... negotiations...."

".... I think not!! This is your last chance, VIOLA!!"

"Very well. Tomoe-san?"

"Hai, Onee-sama?~?!?!??"

"Have the crew man their stations... it seems as though dear Captain refuses to play nicely with us....."

"As you wish, Onee-sama!! GAAARGH ALL RIGHT YOU LAZY DOGS, GET UP AND MAN YOUR POSTS!!!!!!!!!!"

Meanwhile, aboard the DuranDuran....

"Hmph. As expected. She's not willing to go down without a fight."

"Eh, I'd say she's willing to go down..."

"SHUT UP, IRINA!!!!! READY THE CANNONS!!!!!"

"CREW, this is Captain Kruger of the DuranDuran! Man your posts and prepare for battle. Do not show them fear!!! Operation Hungry Like the Wolf.... COMMENCE!!"

*gasps erupt all round the bridge of the Battleship Fujino* "Shizuru-sama! Captain Kruger has just given the order to LOAD SILVER CARTRIDGE!" Ensign Erstin Ho cried, blanching as she translated every syllable of Kruger's rant.

"Ara, Natsuki you play so rough....very well..you know what to do, Commander Tomoe."

"Ryoukai, Shizuru-sama! Artillery section, ready KIYOHIME!"

"Aye aye, sir!"

"Irina? What the bloo--? WHAT IS THAT?"

"C..c...Cc... CAPTAIN!!! The Princess Harumichi is using their Kiyohime whip cannon!!!!!"

"DAMN HER! I KNEW THIS WOULD HAPPEN! DURANDURAN! LOAD FLASH CARTRIDGE!! We'll BLIND THEM FIRST THEN ATTACK! READY THE SILVER CARTRIDGE!!!!"

"H... HAI!!!!! *scrambles*"

"We'll see how you enjoy being trapped in a wall of ice, Shizuru... AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!!!"

"Tut tut, Natsuki, surely you know me better than that....Tomoe-san?"

"Hai, Shizuru-sama! Flamethrowers at the ready!"

*raises her teacup* "I'll be waiting for you, Natsuki..." *pats her chair*

"Flash Cartridge ready, Captain! Waiting for your order!"

".......... Shizuru...... *breathes* Drop the UV shades."

"Shades are down, Captain!"

"Good........ FIRE THE FLASH CARTRIDGE!!"

"FIRE FLASH IMMEDIATELY!!!!!!"

"FIRING!"

*BLAMALERKEJREOSirujslkrsrjl blinding light fills the world.*

And the shots heard around the world were the start of a tea-drinking revolution.......several hours later, a decidedly porous DuranDuran sits a mite lower in the keel than she did before, flash burns and patches of ice riddle her decks and outer hull. By contrast, the Princess Harumichi still sat a few hundred meters away, as placid as ever.

"I WILL BE BACK TO FINISH THIS!!! MARK MY WORDS, VIOLAAAARGH!!"

"I'll be waiiiting, Natsuki." *blows a kiss to the enraged Kruger*

"GAAARGH !!!" *shakes fist* YOU'LL GET YOURS!!

"Oh I plan on it," Captain Shizuru replied with a smirk.

"SHIZURU!!!!!!!!!" *sails off into the distance at half speed*

"Hurry back, Natsuki! I have lovely tea for you ."

And thus ends this episode of "The Voyage to the Bottom of the Tea. Join us next time when Captains Kruger and Viola square off again in PART TWO. We hope you enjoyed the insanity that was the whack inspiration of The Lang and The Toda.

If words were raindrops, my heart would drink them like wine

2007-01-16T02:48:49Z

"A mind is a fire to be kindled, not a vessel to be filled."--Plutarch

"We make a living by what we get, but we make a life by what we give."--Winston Churchill

"The teacher who is attempting to teach without inspiring the pupil to learn is hammering on cold iron."--Horace Mann

"I cannot love a friend whose love is words."--Antigone

"There is no one left in the world
that I can hold onto
There is really no one left at all
There is only you
And if you leave me now
You leave all that we were
undone
There is really no one left
You are the only one

And still the hardest part for you
To put your trust in me
I love you more than I can say
Why won't you just believe?"
--The Cure "Trust"

"People don't complete us. We complete ourselves. If we allow others to complete us,
then the search for love becomes a search for self-annihilation; and then we try to convince
ourselves that self-annihilation is love."--Erica Jong "Fear of Flying"

"For believe me, the more one is, the richer is all that one experiences. And whoever
wants to have a deep love in his life must collect and save for it and gather honey.....to love
is good, too: love being difficult. For one human being to love another: that is perhaps the
most difficult of all our tasks...for this reason young people, who are beginners in everything,
cannot yet know love. They have to learn it."--Ranier Maria Rilke "Rilke on Love and
other Difficulties"

Echoes of a Dream

2007-01-15T00:12:40Z

I've come to the conclusion that sometimes I shouldn't be allowed to close my eyes. All manner of weird things happen behind them. My apologies to the Dream King for involving him in all of this...one would think my brain would know better. My humble thanks to Nico-san for putting up with my endless smiting of my breast and Lang-san for listening to me ramble this entire dream in one breath.

“A fiver for a show, my lady.”

Moira had been intently sifting through the influx of emails on her Blackberry, placing each one into categories and subcategories according to importance, when this odd request came. Her eyebrows knitted together, she set her teacup down hard, almost breaking the handle with the frustrated motion. Damn it to hell, I don’t have time for this. Do I have a sign that says ‘If you’re a tosser, come bother me.’?

“Look, mate, bugger off, will yo—“ The annoyed retort died on her lips as she looked up and met the dead grey-eyed gaze of a rather dodgy looking giant of a man, who held his long spider-like hand out to her…waiting. Icy tendrils of fear started to close around her chest; she would’ve thought that she was staring into the very face of Death if she hadn’t known that Death, in fact, was quite female and proud of it. Angry at herself for getting all widgy, she stiffened and gave the stranger her best “Don’t fuck with me” glare.

“What d’you want?” she asked coldly.

“A fiver for a show, kind lady,” he reiterated, this time with a thinning of his lips that could have been misconstrued as a smile.

“What if I don’t want to be shown anything?” Moira asked in a testy voice as she rummaged through her hand-wallet for the requested currency. “What if I just want to sit here and get this bloody report done?” Her eyes gave him the once over while she spoke. He could have been a looker if he’d cleaned up a bit, she thought. Long dark hair, tall, mysterious. That’s what the girls want these days, isn’t it? She wouldn’t know. Life had closed itself off to her a long time ago. Now her days were spent sitting at the same table, in the same café, on the same corner. Her nights were even less enthralling: pasta, wine and MI-5 on the television. Bland and getting worse by the moment.

“I have a feeling that you’ll want to see this,” the stranger assured her, tucking the five pound note into a fraying pocket of his long, black overcoat. Moira was about to object when she found herself out of her chair and walking impossibly fast down the street beside the man, her slim-boned hand in his overly longish one. It was if they were gliding down an endless tunnel; crowds of people whizzed by them as they turned down alley ways, catercorners, walked through walls of buildings at dead end streets. In the back of her mind, there is only the tiniest worry that she’d left her laptop, her Blackberry and all of her business life behind, shed like fragile, membranous snakeskin.

Images and fragments of memory flew by them like injured ghosts, ragged and helpless. Moira felt a morbid sort of fascination at the lack of life in these places, the death of happiness and joy…as if these places keened over the loss of a collective soul. After several long minutes, they reached a dilapidated old Soho cinema tucked away in the darkest recesses of a down-at-the-heels neighbourhood and the flashing world suddenly slowed to a crawl.

“Where are we?” Moira queried, turning round and round in an effort to take in the gloomy structures that surrounded them.

The dark stranger took the five note out of his pocket, went to one of many non-descript bricks that held the cinema together and slid it through the well-hidden slot carved within. Loud clicks echoed down the alleyway as many unseen locks release the fractured, heavy oaken doors of the front entrance. Light and happy burblings filtered through the cracks, pushing back the darkness with its overwhelming joy. Moira felt something running down her face and raised a trembling hand to her cheek. Silent tears swam a lazy path down her jawline, leaving large, round drops on her new silk blouse. Her chest nearly burst with feelings she hadn’t felt in ages and to make matters worse, she couldn’t understand why in hell she was crying.

“Your tears are not meant for sorrow this day, Moira McLaren,” the stranger intoned in answer to her unspoken question. In her confusion, she had completely forgotten that he was beside her. She turned quickly towards his voice and gasped in shock for the light was not only transforming the old building but her guide as well.

“What the--? What happened to you? Who are you?” She watched in amazement as his eyes turned from ice grey to deepest black and his hair stuck up on all ends like the sharp points of a crown. He now wore heavy black boots instead of the filthy ragged trainers he had on when they first met and his overcoat became a cloak as dark as the night sky with points of light that she swore were stars. He shook himself once the transformation was complete, like a wolf giving his fur the once over.

“Some call me trickster or that wily bastard,” he answered as a wry smile touched his lips. “Others call me The Dream King. You, however, may call me whatever you wish.”

“Why have you brought me here?” Moira asked incredulously. “What does all of this mean?”

The Dream King pondered her questions for a moment before answering. One his hands gripped the wrought iron handle of the door closest to them. “Your dreams spoke to me, Moira. Your heart’s pain could be felt even in my realm.” He shrugged slightly underneath the undulating cloak. “I’m merely doing what I was meant to. Come,” his other hand reached to take hers. At his touch, she could feel her limbs pulling inward, her head filled with sound like rushing water.

“Mind your footing, dear. It’s a little steep for ones such as yourself.” Moira turned to give a caustic reply only to see that she was now looking up at him instead of being at eye-level. This is all too weird…too odd by half.

“Oh but it’s quite normal, you’ll see,” the Dream King replied as if she had spoken aloud. He led her through the door and as her foot crosses the threshold, everything gets louder, bigger, grander than she ever knew was possible. She suddenly realizes now that she’s gone through the doors she’ll not be coming back. Warmth and laughter bubble up from within her; she begins to laugh and laugh and laugh…the man let’s her hand go and she runs further inside, never once stopping to look behind.

“Sweet dreams, my dear Moira. I’ll be seeing you again…all in good time.”

Stolen from silencescreams

2007-01-05T15:17:44Z

Honestly I have no idea why I decided to take this test. These things are so amusing, especially when I view the results. That being said, guess I should share with you, eh?

A lone wolf, the silent shadow surveying the scene from the sideline. A fringe dweller by choice, you have nothing but contempt for all that is phony and false. But even lone wolves can’t spend all their time on the outside and you’re happy enough to come into the den and chill with the rest of the pack, but usually on your own terms.

A deep, intense and compassionate soul, you have an inner peace that others envy. In a world of insanity, you are sane. You know what’s real and you know how to keep it real. A heavy dose of quiet, reflective chill time, mixed in with a spot of self reflection, life contemplation and inner cleansing pretty much covers your deal. When you’re cool with you, you’re cool with the rest of the world.

Superficial parties, stereotypical socialites and meaningless banter don’t do it for you. You need a bit of soul food, and you get it by chilling out in your own personal retreat and doing some inner searching, cleansing and decontaminating. You need to work out your own deal before you can take on the burden of others. A generous soul, with a genuine desire to help out, you constantly refuel to make sure you’ve always got enough to give.

Logic, reason and good old common sense anchor you through rough seas. A systematic and logical approach to any problem will usually get you to an answer that works.

Irresponsible is not cute and you’re totally over the teen rebellion thing. You have goals and aspirations and a life blueprint to make it all work. You’ve got it all mapped out to the utmost degree and the course you’ve plotted is absolutely doable.

A Lone Wolf, you are alone no more once the Designer enters your den. Your Soulmark Match, a Designer totally gets the need for “me” moments. When you decide to take some chill time to sort out your head space, your Designer mate will be doing exactly the same thing. Mutual hobbies will include mulling over matters of the heart, continually searching your beautifully sensitive souls and maxing out your joint capacity for intimacy and passion.

A Year in the Life

2006-12-29T13:44:53Z

2006 is one of those years that had its ups and downs; probably more downs than ups but that's neither here nor there. A lot of lessons learned, good and very bad, people met, people lost. That yin/yang balance that is the ebb and flow of life.

I'm hoping that 2007 will be better because a new year always has so much potential to be better, grander, more successful than its predecessor. I'm thankful for the good things from 2006 but 2007 carries a lot of my hopes, my dreams, my wishes.

Thus, I want to give everyone my heartfelt wishes for a happy, safe, healthy and adventurous New Year. The second your little toe crosses the threshold of a new year, your life could change forever in big ways or small, depending on your motivation. You all deserve the chance to make that happen. The future is a blank canvas just waiting for your brush strokes to make it come alive.

As an aside, I just found some old Kajiura Yuki music around and figured I'd share. It's one of her more haunting, random efforts and I love every single piece in the CD so I figured I'd share. It's from her Music Inspired by the Boogiepop and the Others novel. Happy listening and Happy New Year, all.

YES!!!

2006-12-28T00:05:58Z

Star Wars Horoscope for Libra

You are on a lifelong pursuit of justice and determined to succeed.
You convey the art of persuasion through force.
You always display your supreme intelligence.
You have a great talent in obtaining balance between yourself and your surroundings.

Star Wars character you are most like: Obi Wan Kenobi

What Is Your Star Wars Horoscope?

FEEL the Force within me....oh yeah.

Although I found this one highly amusing:

Your Seduction Style: Ideal Lover

You seduce people by tapping into their dreams and desires.

And because of this sensitivity, you can be the ideal lover for anyone you seek.

You are a shapeshifter - bringing romance, adventure, spirituality to relationships.

It all depends on who your with, and what their vision of a perfect relationship is.

What Is Your Seduction Style?

I really need to stop playing with these silly things. *_*

Froeliche Weihnachten und Ein Gluckiches Neues Jahr!

2006-12-24T22:54:03Z

Please let me extend best wishes to everyone for a happy, safe and wonderful Christmas holiday. All of that and more for the New Year. Cheers!

It's All Lor's fault...

2006-12-15T04:10:28Z

On the twelfth day of Christmas, kieli sent to me...

Twelve politics singing

Eleven sports traveling

Ten hugs a-clubbing

Nine cars biking

Eight tennis a-shopping

Seven computers a-sleeping

Six motorcycles a-hacking

Five co-o-o-omics

Four obscure bands

Three gay politics

Two girl bands

...and a japan in a biology.

Damn that woman for making me do this retarded thing. All in the spirit of this whacked out, over-commercialized holiday. Merry Chanukkah Kwanzaadelic, folks.

You gotta be kiddin' me

2006-12-12T04:10:02Z

you are darkmagenta
#8B008B

Your dominant hues are red and blue. You're confident and like showing people new ideas. You play well with others and can be very influential if you want to be.

Your saturation level is very high - you are all about getting things done. The world may think you work too hard but you have a lot to show for it, and it keeps you going. You shouldn't be afraid to lead people, because if you're doing it, it'll be done right.

Your outlook on life can be bright or dark, depending on the situation. You are flexible and see things objectively.

the spacefem.com html color quiz

Oh goody, I'm a dark pink queer. >_< WTF?!

kieli @ 2006-12-07T15:08:00

2006-12-07T20:08:31Z

Ugh I hate being ill....GRR

I made the mistake of having supper before going to bed last night. HUGE mistake. The dreams I had were just unfucking real. I dreamt that I was wading in this long winding stream with clumps of other people and we were searching for some guy that we all cared about. We all had some sort of dredging rope and were waist and chest high in this fast-moving water, dragging this makeshift dredge, panicked and concerned. I don't even remember the guy's name anymore. I kept saying "It's my fault. It's my fault. I wasn't even paying attention..what was I thinking?"

Then at some point, the rope jerked and we all yanked on it harder, various yelps of surprise and concern erupted around me. My heart was pounding out of my chest; it ached like someone was stabbing me with an icepick.

Finally, we dragged a body out of the water and onto a nearby sandbar. It was this skinny, pale looking guy, barely a teen. He was in a fetal position and the dredge ropes had somehow wrapped around his legs and feet, bound tightly, I guess by his thrashing around in an attempt to be free of them. I was crying my head off, begging him to breathe.

Next thing I know, he's smiling at me, breathing shallowly and relief just pours through me. We're sharing breaths somehow because soon he's breathing regularly, as if water hadn't filled his lungs, as if he had never spent all of that time at the bottom of the stream.

I woke up, totally sweaty and sick. Ugh, never again.