Tuesday, November 23, 2010

A childhood regret

I regret losing the confident person I was.
I knew I could do so much.
I still think there are things I can do, but I only think.
And some days, the voice is so quiet, I can't believe I can hear it.

Monday, September 13, 2010

Robotic Heart, Cyber Eye

Inside this hallow
It has hidden
For decades, years and centuries
This little portal
A place where all pleasure lies

To crave and touch
An animal or human thing?
To watch and wait
As a passionate nature flairs
To be watched and admired
A sedate nature rocks the core

This simple blend
Earth and Fire
Grows and Burns

Does it work?
Does it combine well?
Who knows?

I still think I'll burn you.

(Written July 10, 2010)


Recognise me
Look at me
Beyond the shadow of a doubt
The mirror on your wall

No constraints
No wishes
Nothing between us

I curse you
I bless you
I wish you well
Yet you do not know all that passes through here

A tyrant
A treasure
A pleasure in my pain

I've given you nothing
I ask you for everything

A spot unholy
A ritual to spend
To mark this time
A s spent

First blood
First light
First darkness in the sky

First sorrow
First peace
First way to eternity

Give me your hate
I'll turn it into shame
I'll never let it hurt
And I'll never let you win


Thank you.

(Written July 7, 2010)

Waiting, Searching

Waiting or searching
What does that say about a person?
There are those who are waiting for something
And those who are searching
And they are all different.

But is there a difference between the two?
For those who search-
Are waiting to find something
And those who wait-
Are searching for the right thing to pass in front of their eyes

Waiting and searching...

And when it has arrived-
Has been found
Will we recognize it?

(Written July 3, 2010)

Saturday, September 11, 2010

Flash and strain

What would it take
To burn out the shadow reversed
In one's mind?

Unforgiving memories-
Of perfect pointlessness

A little child clings
Ripping open
And without
The marks and the scars

Feel it!
See it!
This is what you do to me!
You millions of staring eyes!

Eyes... eyes

Haunting and flashing
Through and around me
A fascination and obsession
Stemming from hatred

I enjoy that which hurts me-
Poisons and destroys me.

For I will always be the destroyer
To my own light and happiness

If that be the only control I possess
Than let me possess it!

(Written on July 2, 2010... things have changed...)

Wednesday, September 8, 2010

Silver Eyed

Inside here
Foggy and indistinct
A place to run to
Alone and calm
Forever comfortable in alone
And I'll always want to hide in here

Watching those unfocused eyes
Away in a place
Unreachable and distant
Beside me but not there
Where I can no longer touch her
Though her body remains
Next to me

Possessed and unpossessible
This be a dilemma or curse
A blessing in a vague, false world
And a way to remain alright in self
Though 'self' be vague and far away

Monday, August 23, 2010

A Wisp at Night

Unstitched doll
Broken feathered bird
Jagged glass
No longer

At the Start of Day

It is in the clarity of the light- of- day
That everything makes sense
It is only at night
During the fog of fear
Of the shrouded mind
That even the most simple beings
Become skewed

Wait for the light.

Tuesday, August 17, 2010

On the Last Night

Put yourself to sleep with bad memories
Drug yourself with evil
Into heavy sleep
Stinging dreams

Ease yourself into rest
A quiet place
A tired mind
Where ideas for art
Sweet pictures in your head
Float in bizarre dreams

All beside you.

Thursday, August 5, 2010

A moment

I'll never let another person
Swallow my tears for me
There are too many
That drip from these scarred fingertips
And glisten in the one light
I ever let shine on myself

But another has had to watch them
And is says more about-
My state-
That I would allow this intrusion
And not cave into the hole
Buried inside

I've soared and crashed in moments
Been heavy on the ground then flew
And it's a sorrow and happiness
That constantly-
And makes due

Tell me if there's something I must do
To stop it-
To fight it-
or is it simply about
Being free to live it

Do I just live it?
Can I just live it?

Saturday, June 26, 2010

The Goddess (Part two of two)

Let me hold on to you
Your hands
And eyes
Perfect in their pain
The coldness of them all

I keep crying
Wishing I could never feel
This heart or heat

Give me the hands made of bone!
Meant to crush and lie
Beat down the Earth

Give me those eyes!
Perfect in their soulessness
Intense and depth
I want all others to-
Into them
Blacked out Waters

Let them not come here
Let me be what they fear
Let me be my monster
Perfect in my lack of humanity

Can you give me that?

The Human (Part one of two)

If frosted skin
Melted beneath
A violent sun
More loud than bright
Could the waters ever nourish this desert?

The barrenness of this land
A heart unused
And left in sickled moonlight
Has bloomed poisonous flowers
Perhaps capable
Perhaps not

Wrapped in black
This goddess stands
Away from the hedonist's paradise

From her body
She breeds
Black birds
Raging fires
Creatures to terrify small psyches

Raze across the land-
This land
And bear down on my shoulders

For I fear not
This coldness
Nor numbness
The rake of the heat
Of the other place
Keeps calling-
Though it continues to damage and scar
Then punish me for the injury

Must it be a sickle?
Cannot a fertile crescent-
Ride in sky?

Tell me and show me
I am tired and worn
Twisting and grappling

And over.

If I am tainted, it was by choice

I didn't fall
I dove head first
Out of heaven

And embraced the magnitude
Of the world around me
In all its pain and glory
The ugly, demented, diseased
These are me

As much the fallen and the demon
As I am an angel and good fellow

The beauty, wonder
And healing...

These are all me!

Sunday, June 20, 2010

If I were to tell the truth

I'm still hiding
Still behind here
With the mask on my face
A smile, or rather
An emotionless paste
Upon this face

I'm still numb here
Still feeding myself ice
Chilling these weak veins
And letting this heart remain cold

For any flame to touch-
Even the smallest space-
Of all this-
Burns, burns, burns-
And in haste
I assume the worst

The feelings of pleasure-
Are pain
The feelings of love-
Are pain
The feelings of having that love returned-
Are the worst kinds of pain!

I have let:
Anger, and
Become the only things real to me

This is all I know.

And I do not see the evil within this monster anymore
This hateful, ugly creature
Is more beautiful to me, than I could ever say

For it is me
As much as it is my nightmare
And it needs to be embraced

It can save itself
It can run and fight
But it can't be left alone

For we...

We are meant to be cherised.

Saturday, June 12, 2010

Within and Without

The rain of essence
Of silver weightlessness
The pale fragile
The tiny maiden
Oh Moth Girl

Has she exited my body?
Or does her reign
Forever impact my history?

Tissue paper wings
And a crown of her fellows
Above a saddened brow
And luminous eyes
Filled with all the shed tears

Her powerlessness
Comes not from true weakness
But from disbelief

Why would a pale creature have power?

As beautiful
As she is self-destructive
To herself
And to I

But do I let her go?
Forget her
And never remember the maids we once were?

Now vibrant
In blackness
Or in colours
I cannot help but remember
Those days of being without
Staring in the mirror
Just translucence

And there is a certain
In losing yourself
Even the broken past
Its bloody future

For what lies before
This new ground
Is far more bright
But like lightning

And the Moth Girl would cower
But the rest of me
Is ready

With a smile on my face...

Dark and Embrace

In perfect

A pair of
Dusky eyes
And the light radiates from them
Like a broadsword in the back

Could be horrifying
A monster
A demon
Of my night

But always
The comfort
The haven
And the

In It's difference
In It's silence
And in It's once unrecognized facade
Safe vunerability


Long ago and far away
I was once
Whispery, pale and fragile
A delicate white moth
Easily crushed underfoot
Or more likely
In the palm of an 'owner's' hand

And each night
I was resurrected
I never rested
For I had to rebuild
For the dawn

I could not filter out pollution
Toxins and such
Of a thousand voices
That said the same:
"Worthless! Useless! Vile!"

And I returned each night
Into my cacoon
Neither safe nor comforting
But the only place I could find

And each night
Lying awake
I saw a Italic
That I was
Convinced was

This was repeated on me
Over and over

I could see
The blood leaking from It's eyes
The stains upon the hands
The Darkness surrounding

I wanted to be
Since my mind could not find
Let my body and Spirit be free!

But It came
It came...
And it was magnificent!

Black leather wings
And bottonless eyes
That were

I've awoken from the slumber
The moth need not land here
And the monsters...
The voices...
Just pale memories

The Shadow
My black sentinal

I need not feel your embrace
For we are one
Me and You
Merged in
And battle Scars...

Me and You
Are what count as

Lightness is not an ever present state of purity
Darkness is not defilement

Is being lost
Is letting yourself be lost
Is letting them lead you

Is what it is,
And Past

But when the merge...
Then we have won!

Thursday, June 3, 2010


Oh Memory, Illusions and
Dance about my mind
And stay awhile
Are not I
Supposed to enjoy such a time?

Instead it holds a heavy weight
To my chest
Over and over

Twisted and grappling
This mind awakens
In repeated process
Of tiny dreams
And little

Of a sickness
And tiredness

But, all right
It feels just
And fine
And plain
And usual

Though I confess

It could well
Kill me.


I've watched myself
Collapsed upon the floor
Covered in hatred
Blood, stale sweat
And the last kiss from a broken man

Wrapped in a white dress
Not a promise of marriage
But a declaration of purity
Though why I've never felt so
I'll never know

I want to sink into the sand
And lose myself in hours
Staring into the sky
And feel that wind in my hair
Of a time when any of it mattered

I've felt the nails in my back
Scrapped across wood
And promised
To unholy god
Sick, perverted dog!

I've seen myself a bride
To your god
A maiden
For your pride

And I end it here

A black haloed wretch
And your escaped destiny
I am not so easy to contain

No longer tired
Nor ready to be used

I have lived too long
Too hard
Tired and fast

So drop the act
Throw down the veil

I will not promise myself
In blindness

For I am ready
To fly away

Visual Rape

I imagine
A cell- no-
A cage

Where my pale bones have been thrown
And where I feel
A million eyes, a thousand sneers
Painted upon
The faces of countless males
All in perverted glee

They are watching me
They are loving this
They want me to shout
To taste the panic in my blood
And the bile in my throat
And the hateful words on my tongue

One enters
For he feels
He can

But there is a blade here
In my hand
Made of ice
And the Justice
That burns in my eyes

And as he thrusts-
So do I
Into that paunchy belly
The sick old dog!
Into his twisted body
I've entered
And he can't enter mine

I've killed him.
And the rest flee.
So the cage is open
And I run

A thunder storm
Rain pouring down
On me
And I let it wash away the hatred

I am free...

Wednesday, June 2, 2010

Reach out and grasp that hand offered to you

You cannot offer me heaven's embrace
But maybe I don't want salvation


I will swallow your Fire
You can eat my Ice

The Heart and the Thorns

I am a girl of the rose
Some pale perfect
Some dripping in rich blood colour
Some of spiritual rare essence

It is a fragrance and a signature
That I wear with pride

To be lush
And rich
Delicate and decadant
Gentle and cruel
In its beauty

These never ending contrasts
Are the mystery
The Power
I carry in my veins

Rest me in your hands
At a lover's waist
Upon a loved one's grave
I am a sign of all the fire that burns in you

Dripping in nectar
I will drunken and stupify
All those who lick upon me
And I will enjoy and adore
Those foolish smiles on their faces

Sweet and tender
I am handled
Cruel and unloving
I am abused
And I am used to both touches

But nothing scars upon my perfection
Nothing destroys all that is esoteric

The petals will fall
The perfume will dry
The plant will fade and die
But I...

I can never die
For I am beyond my physical constraints

I am that memory
That passion
Those tears
That sorrow
The pain
The pleasure

And the Love

And this is where my life is

Monday, May 31, 2010

A Reminder Inside

If Love touched your heart
Would you run?
That deceptive imp
That cruel faced lier
How little you are actually there

I've seen the derangement
The torture
The ridicule, the breaking
And the complete destruction.

I've witnessed the coldness
The frost tipped points
Of a never burning

So why try?
Why bother with the charade?
Is there ever a difference?

Perhaps because
Burns so much worse
And hardens all

But we have to try

But we must
Keep our wings
To ourselves.

Thursday, May 27, 2010

Soul, Memories and Glass

My god, my god!
My dark and deadly

Who burns inside this heart
Composed of layers
Of broken glass
And shattered illusions
And piles of disappointment
And the quiet cries and whimpers
Of a little girl

And do these make me weak?
A little pathetic being?
Has it made me give up
The goddess
In me?

They both wear crowns
The Black Prince
The Red Queen

They contain all that is ever good
Or ever bad
About being an androgyne

But he is a prince
And she a queen
His persona does not encompass all
And her shadow does not emerge so often

But they are me
And they never let me be

For they are not meant to
That would make life too simple
Too sweet

And the sugar would burn my tongue
In a sickening way

I need the hollow
And the brutal
The beauty
In the disease

So curse me in
And reward me in

For I am grateful for it all

This is the life I chose
Not a settle
Not a dream
A reality
Made of dreams
And screened

But I refuse to think
I have been unfair

To cry
To shout
To curse the air

This is me
In perfection and hate
In flaws and love

And I
Every moment of it!

Gods, Idols and Belief in One's Self

Should I cast
A thousand demons on to the Earth
A thousand angels into the sky

Would that define me?
And signal me-
Would I become marked and scarred?

Could I ever release
The wonderous whims
Fragments of holy vision
From my mind?
Or, would I continue to be lost?

I call Hell
High water
Tides of blood
And it all means nothing

I still pray upon cold feet
Solid hands grasped around dripping candle wax

I've envisioned myself
A perfect entity
A child of God
A heavenly being
A demonic mistake

Plain, ordinary...

I exist beyond all these things

Thursday, May 20, 2010

Colour of my Horse

Other little girls, picture a prince on a white horse
As a child
I always imagined
On a black horse.

Samael, Lilith and whatever name You call It

To be the fallen
The felled
The one's destroyed
There must of been the one's who won

Was it ever a true battle?
A fair fight?
Was there ever a chance I could have won?
Or was it all a tease?
Was I always destined to lose?
Was this meant to be?

Tell me, sky's above
Were you always planning on casting me out?
Was my pride too much for you?
Could I not be the Morning Star?
Was I truly such an abberation?

Now my skin is scarred
By the people
By my commrades
My brothers in arms
My family

Could not one such as me be left alone?

You did this to me!
Left me here with nothing
Only a belly full of lead
My insides forever in ill
My outsides forever burning
And I'm not sure this is the prison of my own creation.

Seems to me, if you always knew
Why bother with me?
Did you let destiny dictate
Your treatment of me?
Did I let destiny do the same?

Perhaps we were both fooled
Both led astray
And that I do regret

The sins of the father
The reflection of the son
And also a daughter

I am beyond destiny.

Friday, May 14, 2010


Creativity could be like a storm- huge and thunderous, ready to pound into a fragile body. Mine is this tinkling bell, a little voice, this tiny little sweet imp that compels me to pick up a pen, one of my books, and insists upon being recored on the page. It likes tangibility, it likes existence. It wants a safe place to land, because even the most beautiful and free of thoughts need to rest for a moment.

Frantic Prayer

God give me a night
A soul of black
A heart of white
Let not the sadness permeate my veins
The greatest love, the greatest pains

The total loss
The perfect gains
It is all a drain
And my heart weakens
As they rise
But I will never simply die

It is tired
It is bored
The Darkness
The Wholeness
Wanting more

I will never be complete
Asking is plain defeat
This is beyond what life can give
This is not a promise, but a whim

I ask great Gods for your blessings
A simple smile
A soul's pressings

As Night sits in my frames
And Fire burns beyond wane

This is the woman in me
The man, the child
The sweet eternity

For I am something more
Something less
And something born

To feel your eyes watching me
Creates havoc that is free
Is a heaven beneath

And I will watch you as you sleep
Though you whisper and you creep
I will watch you in your sleep
Come with me, my soul does weep.

Sunday, April 18, 2010

Burn down all that once was

If the greatest monster
Were locked in the cage with you
How would you escape?
Would you trade your soul away?
Like I did?
Cast yourself into the Hellfire?
Like I did?
Have your body torn to pieces?
Like I did?
So one day you could rise again?

I am the phoenix
Creature of the flame
For I know what it's like to be burned
And I always rise again

Saturday, April 10, 2010


I look upon a little cut
Caused by a slip of the knife
Not intentional, just from preparing food
And it is still soothing
Balm on clawed nerves
And even in my happy state
My skin enjoys the feel of my blades
I should invest in many
Viciously sharp ones
For when I want to quickly bleed
Small and cute ones
For those times that paper is not enough to sketch on
And I crave some hatch marks
Upon myself

And it all sounds very sick
Very brutal, ugly and cruel
So why does downing that vodka
And smoking and sucking tar
Constitute a better way to cope?
So I crave a blade
So what?

It's not everyday
It's not all over
Just a small line here
Some blood weeping from there
So surrender to the voices inside
And I am proud
They give me Pride
So I give them Peace

And you'll never know
Because my mouth remains
Impassive to you
Though some sorry part
Wants you to know all

And maybe some day you will

Friday, April 9, 2010


My wall has fallen
The castle is torn
My white banner
Waves in surrender
And I am frightened
But I am not sad

The hole is no longer filled with lead
The iron burns my skin again
My eyes are not cloudy
There is blood in these veins
They scream in power

My mouth is unstitched
My wings are unfurled
But I'm still afraid to fly

The castle still looks inviting
The dark that was made for hiding
Still wants me in its depths
But I can't be there anymore

And some small part
Cries out in quiet pain
Is still bloody
Battered and bruised
Is still feeling the effects
Of my cruel treatment
Of the numbingness
I used to feed it

For I am the jailer
The prisoner
The key
And I throw these away
Away, away from me

This place is not nice anymore
It is pain
It is pointless
It is more than agony

I am out in the sunlight again
The moon can touch me
The stars are lost in my hair

And I can breathe.

Tuesday, March 9, 2010

Behind a Wall of Flame

And you don't know what it's like
To have those
Those supposed to be 'family'
Doesn't matter that we just met
They shouldn't look at you like a piece of meat
And they are half starved wolves.

But they don't seem to notice
I'm a wolf also
I am the true wolf
You jackals can only pretend
And I'll hunt you down
Or I'll run and hide
But you cannot touch me.

Friday, March 5, 2010

Letter from an Opheliac (and a Hamlet) to others of her\his kind

I realize that as much as I want to live now, to believe in my own beauty and power, and develop my full capabilities, I don't want my past to be called 'dirty'. Self-destruction is not dirty. I am not some awful thing for planning suicide or cutting or lying numb and dumb. I want all that is 'awful' to be seen in the light. My darkness is no longer my shield; it is my banner and badge- it is the thing that deems me war torn and battle weary. It is nothing to be ashamed of!

Monday, February 8, 2010

Haruki's Assignment

A measure of water in a faceted glass cup. Beside the remains of an odd, vegan dinner: sliced strawberries on 'cream cheese' of the soy variety, on multigrain toast. It perpetually sits out on the counter. Right now, it has gotten somewhat warm- having been poured about an hour earlier. Calling me... "Drink me... Drink me..." I feel like Alice.
I should get up and restore myself. I am parched. I am spent, as panic attacks, moments of mania, times when frenzy dominates my body and mind are bound to do.
But I don't want to. I want to rest, I don't want to sleep. I just want to sit in silence until the sun emerges and remind me that I have obligations that will now be near impossible to fulfill.
And I want to knit- a useless skill, I know. How frequently I take the time to learn what is 'useless' and forget what is 'important'.
And I don't care.

Sunday, February 7, 2010

Favorite Colours

It has been many years where my favorite colour was blue. And I don't mean the primary, mix-with-the-other-two-to-make -secondary-colours, blue. More like misty blue, fade into smoke blue, mystic blue, purple and blue, black and blue- even greenish blue.
For a long time, I sat wallowing in my own filthy depression (I realise now that I had childhood depression- not fun when no one believed such a thing was possible). It has only been within a short while that the darkened haze has moved away from my eyes.

Lately, a shift has happened, now I would have to say that my favorite colour is violet- and its shades, tints and tones. The brightness and beauty of this colour draws me to it. The fact that its beauty rests in its inherit spirituality means so much more.

And I notice something new: 'hot' colours hold sway over me now. Where before they burned my eyes (and I'm not kidding. I've been tested and have extremely sensitive eyes to colour) now they are a delight.
I like red. What does that say?

Saturday, February 6, 2010

Necessary Words

The previous is something that has been floating around in the synaptic connection of my laptop for the last three years. I see that I haven't changed and have changed infinitely. I suppose, at everyone's core we have that pure being inside that can never be completely covered. And that is a good thing.

Glimpse on a Subway

Did he know he was (almost) perfect? The pretty perfection of his face? No... he couldn't have.

I was suprised- quite honestly- by the fullness of his lips. He was white- as white as new fallen snow- he was a he, yet he had the mouth of some gorgeous Mexican boy.

Cheek bones like steel- hard jawed and strong chined... really a sculptor's dream.

The delicate, silvery frames of his lenses- planted on the perfect slope of his nose.
All wrapped-
In the dullest of clothes: plain, scruffed, blue jeans; simple, faded tee. Over the firm slimness of gorgeous, young male.

A cushion- cut sapphire- wrapped in mouldy newspaper. I think his eyes were pale sapphire.

I saw the book clenched in his hands- a slab of a book. The coarse hunch of his back and awkward placement of his feet- bent funny, bent awkwardly- he never really learned the stance of the 'cool' person.

He was intent on his reading- never knowing he was perfect- never knowing that he was hardly flawed... I guess that was his flaw.

A Reason for the Insanity

There's a reason I want some diagnoses: if you don't know where the cliff is, how do you know where to jump off from?

Friday, February 5, 2010

Page in a journal

Random acts of God? Freewill? Random nothingness in a meaningless world? Absolute determination? What is true and real in this world? Can it truly be said that there is a creator? Is God just a construct of man? Or, is God something that resides in each of us? What does it mean to know God? To touch God? Is there a heaven? Have I been living by choice- or, have I been following a predetermined path? A destiny ?Why do I feel like I've been a Hero on a long journey home? Maybe I can only follow what I feel, what they feel, and pray with all my might. Fight with all my might. Maybe it is my destiny to defy prophecy- defy destiny... now that is quite a conundrum.

Sunday, January 17, 2010


The Moth Girl is crying-
"It has been too long to succeed!"
"We are all failures now and it's too scary to proceed!"

"Shut up, Shut Up, SHUT UP!"

Angry is yelling to her in my head.
"I swear I'll do it!
"Don't think I won't"

"Let's run from here-
Hide away-
Become a Warrior, a Knight, a Pirate, a Sorcerer."
Of course, The Black Prince has to have his say.
"Let's find somewhere fun to be!"


Crazy's point is a point- of a blade.

The Red Queen is silent.
As I wish her to be.
But sometimes...
I want her to come out
I want her to play with me-
Nobody understands what it means to crave nothing!
Nobody wants nothing!
And is it me who is saying this-
Or The Red Queen?

Monday, January 11, 2010


The Brave One is this odd movie. Where it has a quiet, self-reflective quality while also having the loud action- because it is a vigilante movie. And there are moments where you see utter love played out physically, contrasted with violent, beating death.
Why write this? Because there is a moment within the first hour, where the heroine(?) reflects on discovering that other person within. And I realise that for some, it takes a single dramatic climax, to change how you think of yourself. Where you know you are not by yourself inside. And for others, it is lots of smaller events, compounded upon each other, that breaks open that wall inside. And for a smaller amount of people... that wall never existed.

A Call to Activism

I feel a cause!
I feel a cause stirring within me
To reach out and take the flame in hand
To reach out and share what light I possess
I am lucky
I am blessed
I want to connect
Is there a cause?

Sunday, January 10, 2010

Angry List and Poem

What to do when one has become, numb, mad and filled with seething sadistic rage:
- listen to much Kittie and Emilie Autumn
- write odd poetry in your journal
- avoid sleep or sleep too much
- watch the 2009 miniseries Alice
- fantasize about murder
- dream up all the art projects you want to accomplish
- attempt said art projects
- discover interesting mental illnesses
- avoid sharp objects!

Wednesday, January 6, 2010

Doris' Secret

I have called myself 'shameless' for writing in here and publishing what I have to say- maybe because I feel that one's secrets should be just that: private pieces of information, wisdom and knowledge that remain in the head of whoever thought them up. That makes them less potent... less dangerous and maybe, I just don't like to share. But there is something to be said to letting this get out there and having people I don't know read it. This isn't really my idea but reading Doris (this fabulous zine by Cindy Crabb) made me remember how much fun it can be to tell secrets to people that you've only just met and will never see again. And maybe, it's nice to know that perhaps this could reach someone that needs a prompt to tell their secrets. As I said, they are dangerous, sometimes.

Sunday, January 3, 2010

5 o'clock

You know, I've always thought that these moments- when it's 5 am and I haven't slept yet- where I fantasize and run and dream and draw... I always thought they were useless. But I just realised what they've done: without these moments, I wouldn't have discovered those others in me: the Warrior, the Avenging Angel (not just the Cherubic Angel), The Vampire- who will take what she needs, the Visionary Alchemist.
They were discovered in the dark of night- they are born of the Dark.

Saturday, January 2, 2010

The Star

It seems as though this blog is entirely self confessional- like I just want some attention. Maybe we live in a society where we say we are 'advocating' for others, when in rally just want some sympathy, or maybe we want to expose all that Shadow-yness in ourselves, so all the light- the good stuff- is what we're really made of. Just a thought for all those who have decided that this decade should be black, but could be light.

2010: The Year of St. Trinian's

I started this year quietly... and it seems that this was a better solution. I wonder if starting the year loudly just sets you up for an opposing year. Like it can only getter louder, messier and more exciting from here on out.

If there was ever an inspiration to every female Warrior (an archetypal pattern), it's the series of drawings and movies - though I've only seen the 2007 version - St. Trinian's. It is my inspiration.