Tuesday, October 31
Saturday, October 28
I Love Halloween!
And so, to honor this wonderfully dark holiday, I have invited a friend of mine to do the honors and start Round 14.
I would like to introduce you all to Ralph.
Ralph lives under my bed.
When I was little he used to like to scare the hell out of me, but you know, as I got older we kinda became buds.
So last night I was laying in bed... and Ralph was under it... and I was pondering how to begin this round, when my old pal Ralph said that he might be able to help.
You see he is a master of all things scary.
So, well, I guess they're all yours Ralph
Hello my lovelies and welcome to the monstrously wonderful Round Fourteen.
I'm expecting lots of tricks AND treats for this round.
I know you won't let me down... otherwise I might have to pick up a couple of my ghoulfriends and make a stop under your bed tonight! heheh
The Wicked Wench... a girl after my own heart (if I had one) has turned in her word list for our scrutiny.
I think you'll find her choices amusing...
Now isn't that so sweet... heheh
Such FABULOUS words... I'm almost swinging from the RAFTERS!
Well my dear BATTY girl... that just won't do!
Not at a time as special to me as Halloween.
So what's say we put a catty little spin on The Olde Town Wench and send this thing spiralling into the macabre.
The genre for Round 14 is HORROR!
All stories must be scary... and believe me... I know SCARY!
Don't disappoint me... I just so happen to have a bag of hungry black spiders to turn loose on anyone who dares to offend my demonic senses.
When the clock strikes twelve on Friday night, the forum will be closed for voting.
Anyone who has not submitted a story can be expecting me to arrive under their beds at 1AM sharp...
or maybe the closet... I do so love closets!
Alex and Jack had been dating on and off since they were sixteen, but this recent breakup had turned what started as an amicable split into something dark and painful.
For Alex the breakup had become arduous, and frankly, exhausting.
It wasn't like they had never broken up before? This was just the first time that SHE had initiated the split-- and Jack was pissed!
At first she felt kind of sorry for him, but now he was REALLY losing it.
Jack was already inclined to get violent with her when he felt that she was challenging his authority. He used brutal tactics to edify his masculine strength over her. And it had worked for years. She was terrified of him.
When she started going out with Brad Feckinger, or Peckinger or Fuckinger, as Jack liked to call him, she thought it best not to let Jack know.
This had been no easy feat considering that Jack had taken to following her around everywhere, and popping up unexpectedly when she was out with her friends.
She and Brad had done a good job of sneaking around behind Jack's back, at least until tonight.
They had decided to go out to dinner then head to the old school house, to be alone and probably make out in Brad's car. She invited her best friend Tammi to come along. Tammi was worried about 'the Jack situation', as she called it. She had begged Alex to get a restraining order or something, but Alex was afraid that it might aggravate Jack more. He was bound to give up on her sooner or later and find someone else to terrorize.
So tonight Tammi had come along, dragging her boyfriend Larry with her.
The night had started off fabulously. They had gone to Dominic's Pizza, Jack's least favorite restaurant, and had pizza and beer.
They drank way too much, but it was the first time that they were actually out in public together as a couple and it felt good. Brad kept her in stitches all evening, he was really funny and he could do the best impressions. Larry was starting to get wasted and kept making Brad do impressions of some of their friends. Then he did an impression of Jack, and not just any impression, he did Jack nancing around like a girl, complaining about how the humidity was making his hair frizz. Alex was laughing so hard that at first she didn't see Jack sitting at the booth in the corner. When she finally stopped laughing and turned towards the loud boom from the corner booth it was too late. Jack was out of his seat and striding towards the door.
"What the fuck was he doing here?" Tammi asked, her words slurring together.
"I don't know" Alex answered. "Maybe we should just call it a night, what do you think?"
"Screw him", Larry bellowed a little too loudly, causing heads to turn in their direction.
"I say we go to the school house and party!"
They paid the bill and went out the back door of Dominic's. They didn't see any sign of Jack as they crossed the parking lot towards Brad's old, beat up Toyota.
Larry tended to think the girls were a little dramatic about 'the Jack situation', but even he had to admit it was getting out of control when he saw the headlights of Jack's truck following them up the dirt road to the school house.
Alex was terrified and wanted to turn around and go home, but Larry said to keep going and he would get out and talk to Jack when they got there.
And he did. And they hadn't seen him since. As 15 minutes dragged into half an hour they began to realize that something was seriously wrong.
"I'll go check on Larry", Brad said to the two terrified girls in the car with him.
"No", Alex was scared and didn't want to be here any more. "Let's just go get the police."
"Oh my god! We are not leaving Larry here with that freak!" Linda was getting hysterical and starting to sound desperate. "I'll go get him", she said grabbing the handle and flinging the door open wide.
As the light came on inside the car, Brad saw Alex's face. Her mascara was smeared on her cheeks; she had a look of consternation on her normally perky face.
He looked up at Tammi standing in the open door. She was absolutely petrified. "Forget it. I'll go", he said with a sound of bravado that he wasn't really feeling. He made the girls lock the car before he left them.
When another fifteen minutes had passed and there was still no sign of Larry, or Brad for that matter, the girls decided to do what Alex had asked in the first place and head back to get the cops.
As Alex climbed into the driver's seat she reached down to turn on the ignition.
"Oh Jesus, fuck!"
She glanced at the rearview mirror and saw the hunched figure of Jack staring back at her through the tinted glass.
She let out a loud scream just as a crowbar came slamming into the passenger's side window. The blow shattered the glass and hit Tammi hard on the side of her head, making a trickle of blood run down the side of her face. She stared at Alex with a dazed look on her face, as if she didn't know exactly where she was or how she got here. Jack reached in the window and began pulling Tammi out through the shattered hole. The shards of glass caught on Tammi's jeans shredding through both denim and skin as he hoisted her limp body out of the car.
"I'll be back for you bitch", Jack growled at her through the broken, bloody mess that used to be a window.
She was staring at him, her blue eyes shining in shock, not a sound coming from her throat. She couldn't have made a sound if she tried, it was like her throat was locked tight.
She watched in horror as Jack dragged Tammi's body by the hair, randomly stopping and swinging his crowbar down on her head as he pulled her towards the woods.
When Jack disappeared behind the trees Alex snapped to.
What the Fuck?
She grabbed the door handle and began to jiggle it, forgetting for a moment how to work the old manual contraption.
Then she reached up and pulled the lock and swung the door open wide. In the same gesture she jumped out of the car and started to run as fast as she could, in the opposite direction that Jack went.
She managed to slide her way blindly down a slope of evergreen needles when she heard, first, the crash of Jack's weight on the broken branches along the forest floor, then his harsh breathing as he closed the distance between them.
She was trying to run, but the thick branches were slowing her down.
She could hear Jack right behind her. A burst of adrenalin hit her legs and she began to run faster, then she felt the sharp pain as Jack drove his knife into the small of her back.
She fell to the ground, moaning in pain. Jack grabbed her by the hair and dragged her back to the school house to hang her from the rafters with the others.
Wednesday, October 25
Friday, October 20
Just as it is recognized that a newborn will not thrive without touch, it is also recognized that no relationship can thrive without it either.
Touch is the key to intimacy.
We have all seen it. We sit in a bar or a restaurant and our gaze is captured at the sight of a man reaching out to caress a woman, to run his fingers through her hair, we are affected by this vision. We cannot help but long to be touched in the same way. A touch can give one the feeling of being cherished, of being treasured. And isn't that what we all long for?
I watched an elderly couple recently while I was vacationing in Savannah. Teenagers and young adults with children were running all around us, pulsating with youth and excitement, their lust for life resounding against the brick wall as I sat outside having a drink under a canopy of trees. But my eyes and attention were drawn to this elderly couple. He held her hand as they crossed the road slowly. He was obviously much stronger than she and he was guiding her gently, and lovingly, across the crosswalk, talking to her, she was smiling up at him. I got a lump in my throat from watching. I watched how they touched each other so openly, as if it were a habit, that both were not even concious of the beauty they exuded in their devotion to one another.
They did not see me watching them, they did not seem to notice the rush of the crowd around them-- they were simply lost in that moment. Lost within each other. And you could tell that this was not unusual for them. Two people who had built a world around themselves. That they had made their love, and each other, the center of their universe. In their love and devotion they had isolated themselves and insulated themselves.
Touch is the key to intimacy.
I do wonder how we have gotten so far from that. How it suddenly became so difficult to just reach out and touch one another.
I have been studying Tantric Touch and Massage Therapy. I looked into it as an alternative to sex therapists. I don't think there is anything wrong with Sex Therapy, don't get me wrong. I just wonder that we (the collective we, not personal) would need to bring in a third person to show us how to make love to each other. It seemed to me that this would break intimacy down more than build it. I thought of all of the ways that we might build intimacy and finding Tantric and Massage therapy, I felt that this would be the best way to rebuild such intimacy into our lives and relationships. To help two people regain their sense of touch and security. To become comfortable with each other in a world where everyone is fighting for their 'space'.
These are a few of my thoughts on the subject.
I would welcome your thoughts on, not only touch, but intimacy in general.
Technorati Tags: Love, Intimacy, Relationships, Touch, Tantric Massage, Savannah, Beautiful
Wednesday, October 18
He stared over the rail at the bloody mess.
He had missed his target completely.
He could see her body lying on the rock below, crumpled like a broken doll.
The moon was just beginning to rise and the weak light made the engagement ring on her finger glow, like a metallic beacon, begging to be discovered.
He had chosen this side of the canyon because of the jagged peaks and salient outcroppings. This is one area that climbers avoided and the possibility of rockslides made it too perilous for rafting.
What were the chances that someone might pass by or get a flat tire and just happen to glance down from this high, rugged apex and notice a body below?
Well, up until now, the chances would have been pretty damn slim. There was no sign of the others from here. He had rushed too much this time. It was just becoming so easy that he was beginning to get sloppy.
Just like usual, he had smashed her face with a brick to hush her screaming and then, when he had finished doing what he wanted to her, he had brought her here to join the others. The difference between her and the rest of them, besides the fact that she wasn't a whore, was that stupid purple damask dress she was still wearing. It stood out like a neon sign as she lay on the rock below, eye's wide open to the incipient moon.
He had stripped the others.
He used to be afraid of getting caught. He had made sure that he hosed them down and had dropped them further down the canyon, where the water was deeper. Once the bodies had smashed through the trees they could not be seen from the road.
Damn, now what would he do?
He pulled out a cigarette and his lighter. As he lit the cigarette, the flame illuminated his face in the night. He had a face that was almost angelic, but his big brown eyes appeared troubled. Standing on the side of the road next to his van he could have been a college kid with a flat tire or just you're average twenty-something who had run out of gas and was waiting for a friend to pick him up.
He turned and leaned over the rail to look at her body again.
Shit, what a mess.
Her head was lying at an odd angle and the muddy water lapped at the fringe of black hair hanging over the edge of the rock.
She definitely had a broken neck.
Well, there was nothing he could do about it now. Even if he managed to make his way down there to move her, without breaking his own neck, he would never be able to climb back out and he was not about to spend the fucking night down there with them.
He took a last drag off of the cigarette and flicked it over the rail.
He heard the sound as it hit the water beside her head and was snuffed out by the foul river water.
He'd better get home and start packing.
He knew that it was time to move along again.
Thursday, October 12
I'm not ready to make nice,
I'm not ready to back down,
I'm still mad as hell
And I don't have time
To go round and round and round
It's too late to make it right
I probably wouldn't if I could
Cause I'm mad as hell
Can't bring myself to do what it is
You think I should
And how in the world
Can the words that I said
Send somebody so over the edge
That they'd write me a letter
Saying that I better shut up and sing
Or my life will be over
The Dixie Chicks
Recently I went to visit my brilliant friend in New York.
She and I had a blast together! She took this picture of me in the fountain at Washington Square Park. There was a movie crew there that day. As I stood in the freezing water trying to figure out what the cameras were shooting I had a tap on the shoulder from one of the crew. She said that I was in the middle of the scene, could I please stop starng at the camera. Heh!
I never thought to ask what movie they were shooting (I was too busy trying not to look at the cameras). Perhaps someday we'll see this same shot in a movie somewhere. Now wouldn't that be interesting?
Happy HNT everyone!
See the man himself! Osbasso!
Sunday, October 8
My blood runs, thick as stones
Gathering round that place where
souls scream at the rising sun
Where life meets death
in heart wrenching communion
twisted into unwilling submission
Life is like the mighty oak and we are no more than leaves. We are born and, when the time comes, we must whither and fall, nourishing the buds to come and making room on those branches for new growth, new life. Our own tenuous vibrancy faded, we bow and retreat to the vigor of youth, knowing our place as we do. Even now as we are still hale and vibrant, we have accepted that this is the way of it. We will do our duty and turn to dust, and we can only hope that we can do it with grace and dignity, leaving those who are left behind without guilt and with as little pain as possible.
We are Celts, and so we continue the tradition of the Celtic Cross, the Tree of Life. The four seasons branching out from the central circle, representing the sun, the all embracing light. We go in death as in life, through the cycles of life, seasons and generations all springing from that central core. All returning to it at the end of our days.