Freelance Angel's Notebook- (C)

[freelanceangel]

Isn't the idea of a soulmate attractive?

When you honestly think about it, the idea of your perfect match, the one who will love you and all of you because it's you is absolutely intoxicating. A soulmate- twin soul, twin flame, whatever you'd like to call the concept- is the ideal love, the knight in shining armour, the girl next door, the impossible dream that everyone secretly cherishes a hope of obtaining.

...idiotic.

Now, don't get me wrong. I'm both pagan and a daydreamer. I too have spent hours gazing dreamily into space thinking about what my perfect love should be.

Therein lies the problem, doesn't it?

While the idea, the concept of a soulmate is very, very attractive to that part of all of us that wants to be all the world to a single person, the reality of it is something else entirely. We don't think- in those half-lidded, wistful moments that all of us don't really speak of to anyone else- that we want our 'soulmate' to find us. We carefully imagine and envision precisely what and who that ideal person should be. In all truth, our own fantasies and longings can be either detail-oriented and specific or vague and idea-focused, but they are ultimately our fantasies. In the longing, the wishing for a soulmate, for someone who will live up to our ideals and who- we think and hope, anyway- will make us insanely happy, all we are doing is creating a dream lover, a demon lover who is supposed to sneak into our rooms at night, bear us away and devote themselves to making life heaven on earth.
How could anyone possibly be the personification of another's desires? Yes, it does happen accidentally. You wish and hope for someone with certain qualities, a person to fulfill certain needs. If and when you find them, like or not, you've probably chosen them because you knew there was enough of them that suited those needs. It wasn't a magical coincidence; it was simply compatability.

People who focus on the idea of a soulmate to the exclusion of all else are the people who believe they cannot stand on their own. There are people who feel as if they have no worth unless someone loves them, reinforces them, adores them. There are others who are honestly terrified to be alone; the idea of facing life without a support system- sometimes a good, solid one, other times it's a weak support they bully into shape- is the most frightening idea of all. These people are highly susceptible to the idea of a soulmate. They would imagine their life to be 'nothing' without that person, and often they'll hop from relationship to relationship, always thinking this next one is THE ONE, and weeks, months or years later, they look back with either disappointment or bitterness because it was yet another failure.
People who live with abusive relationships, who rail against their lack of a significant other, who can't find peace just being themselves are very susceptible to blaming it on not being able to find their soulmate, or waiting for their soulmate. There is really no end to the lies people will tell themselves to avoid thinking that maybe, just maybe, they're not ready for someone to love.
Imagine a relationship, the best you've ever seen, and think about all that goes into maintaining even a minimal level of happiness for each person involved. Is it magical? Do they just "fit" together so well that there are no rough moments, no patches where one is angry at the other, or they yell at each other? No. Relationships that look like that are nothing but lies, and they fall apart very, very quickly. How would a relationship with a soulmate work? In theory, it's wonderous. There are no arguments, no disagreements. Each person flows perfectly with the other, and they anticipate each other's needs, balancing out perfectly. Now when was the last time you saw a relationship that worked like that? People who claim they've found their 'other half,' their 'missing piece' and their 'soulmate' are the type of person who need an excuse for some inexplicable emotion, usually overwhelming lust.

Why this rant against the idea of soulmates? Well, there are two reasons, actually, and I can only suppose they're entirely personal. As follows-

1. People break into and out of relationships every day. I cannot count the people I've spoke to who dropped someone because things were becoming a bit difficult. They found out the person they'd rhapsodized about so recently had...a personality. Had issues. Had a mind of their own, and that they weren't just there to compliment the other's likes and dislikes. I've seen relationships which had such a good chance of bringing fulfillment to both partners fall through, because they weren't willing to work, to compromise. The person they had hooked up with had shown a flaw, clearly wasn't their soulmate and therefore not worthy of them.
Can I simply mention here how much I wanted to slap the #&%* out of those whining pricks? After having worked on a relationship for nearly five years, including dealing with my own fuck ups, his issues, my issues and then seeing just how worthless it was when someone decided that finding their 'other half' was a good excuse for lust... I have no patience with people who give up on a relationship with potential because of such tiny issues. Yes, it's entirely personal, but you would have to admit that it's a legitimate reason to be annoyed.

2. A soulmate, as I have come to understand it, is merely a person you have karma with. Websites and books have all graciously informed me that soulmates are karmic, but twin flames are the REAL thing that everyone is aching for. Now how on earth could the gods be so cruel as to give us a single perfect match that will fulfill all of our dreams and then leave us with no way to find them save trial and error? Believe in an uncaring absent deity if you like, but even that's going a little far. Not to mention, if you imagine that the "twin flame" is your soul's other fucking half, wouldn't you FEEL them? Couldn't you follow the pull of your 'missing piece' to find them?
...that's just a little too metaphysical to fly, I'm sorry. Yes, I realize I'm pagan, I believe in dragons and unicorns, I may be an otherkin and I'm in love with a cat-furry, my best friend is a thylacine, but oh bloody Christ. You've got to be kidding me.

People, the idea of your 'perfect match' exists. The 'perfect match' itself does not. You can find someone who will make you happier than you ever imagined, but it will not be perfect. You will have fights. You will cry yourself to sleep. You will look at them with narrow eyes and hate them silently, for just a moment. You'll think of those you'd dated in the past, wonder what they're doing now, if they ever think of you, and what your life could've been like if you'd stayed with them. You will sit in your living room and wish to be without them, just so your life could be your own.
You will also meet their eyes across the room and feel everything inside of you lift. Their touch will make you smile. Anything they say is liable to trigger a laugh, and when you're in their arms, there is no place on earth or in heaven that would be more comforting. They will laugh at your foolishness, praise your cleverness and remind you that all isn't bad in this world. You will remember their eyes when you're saddened, and clever things they've done will make you giggle throughout the day. They are not perfect. Neither are you, but because you accept and understand that your ideal is just that- an idea- you will enrich and strengthen each other. Your relationship will be worth having.


Dreams of soulmates can keep us going for a time, but if you never let the ideal slip away, you will find yourself eternally searching for something so gossamer only a ghost could hold it.

[freelanceangel]

On my livejournal, a delightful fae named Unseelie (and yes, I giggle at the CtD implications) left a note on my edited otherkin rant. It included an article- the link is at the bottom of the page- which I read with increasingly wide eyes. It's funny how I keep finding my own thoughts- ideas that I'd never really vocalized to anyone before- out in the world. Honestly? It enthralls me. The fact that I'm NOT the only one who's thought these things, pondered these ideas, considered them possible makes me feel that everyone who called me crazy my entire life is very, very wrong.

Let's here it for feeling justified. ^_~

I had to share the part of the article that really struck me. The author talks about the magical creatures- those we consider nonexistant- coming back to the World As It Is- I love you, Charles de Lint- being born into human forms to try and regain a connection with the human world. After talking about why they would do such a thing, he details what those incarnated creatures are like. (I added my own little comments after each section. Par for the course, no?)



"They will know what makes other people happy does not make them happy, and that what makes them happy makes them happier than anyone else alive."
~Isn't that our curse? To see how others are so content sitting in front of a TV with a bag of chips, blankly watching the fictional world dance on an expensive plasma screen and wonder why? To wonder how that can EVER be considered a life?

"They will see things others cannot see, hear things others cannot hear, feel things others cannot feel, and know things others do not know."
~*snerk* Yeah. My life has been nothing but turning my head a little and refraining from asking the people around me -"Did you see that?"

"They will laugh a great deal or cry a great deal or both."
~Because everything hurts, and sometimes the best way to deal is to laugh.

"They will love humans individually, but have a hard time with humanity as whole, and that will occasionally approach loathing."
~...who, me the raging misanthrope? Naaaaaaaah...

"They will have a handful of very close friends, and often be very lonely."
~Can you count it as lonely if you've been that way your whole life? Is that why the few very close friends are such a joy, because they show you what it's like without that quiet around you?

"They will be unhappiest when forced to act like a human and do things that humans do, want what humans want, or when they are convinced that they actually are one."
~There are a lot of unpleasant truths in the world. Why does this have to be one of them?

"Things will not be easy for them. Because of their memories of the other side, the world will seem to them a wondrous calliope with just a few teeth missing on one of the cogs. Because of this tiny deficiency, the music is off key, the horses are crashing into each other and the children are frightened, bruised and crying."
~The world IS off. There's something not RIGHT about a world with so much wonder, and so few dragons.

"The solutions will seem obvious, but no one will listen."
~They never do. Look ahead, glance behind and keep moving to your own beat. Do they listen? No.

"They will repeatedly be punished for shouting FIRE! in a crowded theatre, when the buildings really are in flames but no one else can see....They will get slapped on the wrist for pointing to the EXIT signs when everyone else is running around screaming and trampling one another."
~Well, I've never actually done THAT per say, but...

"They will be zealous, fanatical and didactic in their beliefs. They will feel utterly confused."
~In a world where they encourage you to be an individual and speak your mind, then jam you into corporate suits and 'customer friendly' phrasing? Who wouldn't be confused?

"They will have ecstatic visions and babble incoherently. They will be extremely articulate."
~Nothing's better than a rush of pure inspirational joy and the wild ideas that result from it.

"They are prone to long periods of silence. They have no idea how to say what they really mean."
~Sometimes, there aren't words in any language I know to get across the frustration, excitement, hope, want, need...

"They spend a lot of time with children and animals."
~I hesitate at the children part, but animals? Hell yeah.

"They will become drunkards and dope fiends, organic gardeners, soap makers, carpenters, madmen, magicians, jugglers and clowns, lunatic physicists, painter and scribblers, travelers and wanderers..."
~Or all of the above, rolled into one.

"They will dress in bright colors, frumpy sweaters or all black."
~I've yet to see a prep turn out to be an otherkin. (I guess it's possible.)

"They will smoke too much and drink too much. They will eat only macrobiotic foods. They will develop addictions to Mountain Dew."
~*shifty eyes, clutches cigarettes and bottle of Code Red*

"They will often be accused of living in their own fantasy world."
~*laughing now- laughter bordering on the verge of hysterical tears*

"They will make great lovers. Yeah, even the trolls."
~*grin!*

"They will spend too much time either making love or thinking about it."
~*eyeing fanfiction, character pairings, random scribblings* ...

"They will speak to inanimate objects. They will have much brighter eyes than everyone else. They will expect their magic to work in this world and their love to heal, and will be crushed by this world, and often won't expect it."
~Often, and at least my eyes actually see things, rather than just glaze over them. Magic should work- the theory is sound, the will is there and the energy is focused, but sometimes it's just too banal to try.

"It will come close to killing them."
~And as far as I know, it's done that to every special person I've ever met.

"They will visit the places where the connections still exist: the waterfalls, the mountains, the oceans, and the forests. They will draw on all the power they have, and sometimes, sometimes, the magic will work. And everything will be wondrously easy. The teeth will grow back on the cog on the calliope, the tune will right itself, the horses will bob gracefully up and down, around and around, and the children will giggle and sing with cotton candy stuck to their cheeks and noses."
~I keep hoping. In the names of all the Gods, I keep hoping.

"They will spend their days trying to reconnect a branch that millions are busy sawing away at. Often it will be more than they can bear."
~Trying to bring a little wonder back into the world is...a neverending task.

"While the rest of humanity is busy working on new and more efficient ways to lay waste to the Earth with the push of a button, they are saving it. A handful at a time."
~It just seems like for every handful saved, someone comes along and pisses all over it.

"They will share a common conviction that they are the only sane individuals in a world gone mad."
~Prove to me that everyone else is sane, and I might consider the idea that I am insane.

(http://www.metatech.org/07/fairies_elves_gnomes_trolls.html)

[freelanceangel]

I wonder...

can you capture
the essence of joy?
is it within reach
to hold
a gossamer dream?


I'm looking through the glass
and I can see my dreams.
I locked them away,
and they're perfect now.

The world doesn't stain them-
no one will mock them-
and I can watch them
if only through glass.

It's better that way.

It's best to let dreams
remain dreams.

If I held them-
took them out of glass-
they'd be...diminished.

Dreams can stand for only
so long,
before the world colours them.

In my dreams, I want Technicolour,
not sepia.

So I watch them,
watch them in their glass,
and let them remain dreams.

I want to take them out,
hold them.
Maybe live in them.
But it's best
To let dreams
remain dreams.

[freelanceangel]

My views and responses to Hellboy II: The Golden Army-

The movie was... Honestly, if you don't get into the movie, if you just watch it, it's almost overdone. It's hard to combine comic book style comedy and old-world fantasy without edging into the ludicrous. Guillermo de Toro managed to avoid hitting absurdity, but in some places, you do lift an eyebrow.
However, if you get into the movie, if you really understand that what it's trying to say is that the world is losing all touch with magic, with fantasy, with dreams, then everything makes sense. There's one scene in which Hellboy is fighting an elemental, something Prince Nuada threw at him to keep him 'occupied' while he escaped being captured. The elemental itself is...utterly beautiful, but pretty easy for Hellboy to wound. While Krauss is yelling for Hellboy to kill it, Prince Nuada pops onto the rooftop beside him and quietly tells him that the elemental is the last of its' kind. Krauss keeps yelling for Hellboy to shoot it, to finish it off. Nuada says 'those who cannot lead must follow,' and Hellboy caps the elemental.
When it dies, it just...spreads. The elemental becomes a beautiful carpet of moss and grass, flowering bushes and a tree similar to a cherry tree. Liz walks onto the moss and blinks, looking around. She looks at Hellboy and says "It's beautiful." ...if only people would get the fucking message. If only they'd realize that by wanting everything industrial, wireless, technological and neat, they're destroying the places in the world that might still harbor a spark of magic. Our science, facts and preoccupation with ourselves is killing whatever bit of the fantastical might exist. Needless to say, when the elemental died, I wept.

Not as badly as I cried later on, however. The movie ends, as it has to, with Prince Nuada dying. He wanted to unleash the Golden Army and destroy mankind, to give the mythical things still alive a chance, to give the world back to them. Was he the 'bad guy' of the film? No. To people who didn't understand why he was doing what he did, or what his ultimate goal was, yes, he was the bad guy. I can't consider him that. All he wanted was to see the last pieces of the magical world survive. What is the world without magic? Without the hope that fantasy brings? What is the world worth without unicorns, dragons, sprites, boggarts, goblins and griffins? Do we have an idea of what renewal and reincarnation mean without the phoenix? Can we measure purity without the unicorn? Does nobility mean anything to someone who can't picture a dragon?
How about greed? Think of a dragon's horde. Ferocity? Try a unicorn in battle. Fear? The basilisk certainly had that part down. What is our world without magic?

...someplace I'd rather die than try to exist in.

You can guess that when Prince Nuada died, I cried. I flat-out broke down and fucking sobbed. The line in the movie that still, still hurts to think about was Prince Nuada's last words. "We die and the world will be poorer for it."
He was right. Oh gods, every god there ever was and is, he was right. With every bit of magic that slips away, with every legend that we don't 'need' anymore, we lose more and more of what makes this thrice-damned place worth living in. With every reality show, stories lose more of their colour. Every goddamn TV that people fixate on drags belief away from what once made the world a place that I wanted to live in. Every fucking time I get someone complaining about their bill, I curl up in a ball internally and cry.






(Kay, spoilers over. You're safe now.)


There is a tiny amount of hope, and it's the bit that I cling to desperately. When people watch "Pan's Labyrinth" and sit in silent wonder at the faun, scream in half-imagined terror at the Pale Man, there's still some hope. When people put on costume pieces and hang around public places, go to conventions, listen to music too loudly and enjoy reniassance faires, then there might be something left. Really, throughout the entire movie, all I could think every time some mythical place showed up was "Please gods, please, please, please let there be a place like that in the world. Let places like that still exist. Please, please, please."
I still get that burning pressure of tears in my eyes when I think about it. It may seem crazy to want something so much that you'd give up anything for it, but dear gods above, just to find a place like that, to see that what I've been believing in, hoping for, dreaming of, wishing, wanting and aching for is there, that I'm not a fool, that magic isn't dead... I wouldn't care if I died in the next second, my soul to be winked out of existance completely. It would be enough just to know.

I hate this world, that it makes us only believe, and scares away the things which could ease the ache, if only a little. It's that which has been hurting so much, making me cry, dragging at my limbs when I haul myself out of bed to head back to work. It's this damn world in general. It's the fixation with self, the demand for being catered to, the refusal to look beyond what's right in front of their damn noses.
I know not everyone is like that, but those of us who try to believe, who try to be something other than just another corporate drone are either crazy or outnumbered. It's this lack of magic, because right now, I honestly can't think of better words to describe it, this goddamn banality that's killing me slowly. What the hell are we supposed to do when we're the ones who need magic, fantasy, amazement, awe, dreams like fucking air, and the entire damn world is out to smother us to death?!?

What may be the worst thing of all is that insidious feeling that if you were to leap up, tell everyone in your workplace that this is all pointless shit, say the truth- that we should all be out living rather than worrying about making a living- you would be standing alone. That no one, not even the ones who feel it like you do, would stand up. It's the fear that yours will always be the voice of dissention, and it will always be the only one speaking.

It's not even that I want all the pretty things from fantasy to be real. I'm not just talking about unicorns, griffins- both of which were pretty damn ferocious if you read the legends- faeries and sparkly things. I want Black Annis, the bean-sidhe, ghosts, goblins, bogies. I want the creepy stuff. I want to know that the fear of the dark we're all born with is for a reason. What's the point of a world with white without the black?

When the worst thing in the world to the majority of the populace is prices going up, and not that there's only airplanes and satellites in the sky, then we've hit a very, very low point indeed. There has to be a way to reverse this, to bring the magic back, but I'll be damned if I know what it is. We try and try and try, but...we're just outnumbered.


...I'm not going down without a fight, but gods above, it would be so much easier if there were more of us in the world.

[freelanceangel]

I love having multiple sides of an argument/discussion in your head. Okay, so I'd never heard about 'otherkin' until I was reading a webcomic, and the word kind of threw me. So I, good little English major that I am, went on a Google search to find out what the hell an 'otherkin' was. (Not bothering to read the next webcomic issue, which explained it just as easily. *snerk*) Otherkin: people who believe they're something 'other' than human. Not like furries, who realize they're not *actually* an animal, but they honestly think they're a dragon, angel, demon, vampire, etc, etc.
So...odd thing happens. The rational part of my mind nearly died laughing when someone described themselves as half unicorn, half dragon. (I mean really, wtf? Even in mythology, those couldn't breed. A reptile and a mammal?) I cracked up at the discussion about 'star-dragons' and people who swore they were daywalking vampires. (Psychic vampires are something else entirely. I've met them, I dated one, and I don't like them. Considering I'm about as energetic as an Energizer battery, psychic vampires like me. I know it sounds horribly New Age-y, but bear with me.) My instinctive sense of disbelief scorns these claims, and laughs at the fierce conviction people have when they talk about being a reborn elven queen.

The opposing side to this is my fierce, instinctive belief in the invisible world. I've always believed in angels, demons, ghosts, unicorns, goblins, dragons, griffins, fae. I've never tried dismissing a noise in the night, or a strange shadow. I honestly *believe* that what we call mythological creatures are either in hiding or extinct. There's no other reason for every culture to have angels in one form or another, or for dragons to be a worldwide creature. As humanity has progressed in 'civilization,' we've lost room for magic, and those creatures can't really be explained by science. (I do love the sciences, and I actually consider it a strange form of magic. {No, I'm not one of the dorks that needs to spell it 'magick' all the time. That's really only referring to spells, which I know sounds totally New Age-y, but bear with me. I *am* pagan, after all. ^_~} However, some forms of magic can't be quanitified, the way we need to do with science.) So with our increasing rational development, magic, having no overtly logical rules, kind of fell by the wayside. It doesn't mean they don't exist, but that we can't quite see them anymore.
Also complicating things, and this odd discussion in my head, is the fact that I also believe there's more to the soul than just the human form/mentality. I mean...there's just no other freakin' way to explain Nubbins other than calling her a Traou. (That's half troll, half werewolf, for the layman.) How else can I 'rationalize' having seen my boyfriend with mobile cat ears? Ears that actually responded to his mood, like my -real- cats' do? How the bloody HELL do I explain the fact that I've seen some people with eyes that are just flat-out not human? A trick of my mind? (True enough, it could be, but again, I'm pagan. My threshold of disbelief is exceptionally elastic.) So...the issue becomes: how the hell do I approach this idea of otherkin?

I can look at it one of two ways: the same way I thought that Charles de Lint had looked *right* into my mind with Jilly's quote about thinking there's a home for her in Faerie somewhere. The way that Fenshae explained it- there are more people in the world with this weird sense of displacement than just me. There are people who look at Changeling: the Dreaming and find a way to fit 'real life' into those little categories, and can thusly work better with the world in general. (In that case, aren't otherkin kind of doing the same thing? How is me walking around saying 'I's a pooka' different from an otherkin doing the same? Hell. Damn complications!) These people are a bit more blatant than I am, or have to put a different name to it than I do. (I use a gaming system, and some of the otherkin use mythology. I admit, I do laugh at the otakukin. I just can't help it.) Or they're all really just what people say they are- drama queens and geeks that can't fit in anywhere, people with no sense of self or confidence, and so they pull the "I'm a tenth generation elven queen half dragon" card to make themselves feel better. Which is it? (I suppose stating here that Ian, supported by his mother, used to say he was a dragon in human form doesn't help me figure out which it really is.) Heh...heh...murr.
Perhaps my biggest wonder is does anyone who doesn't role-play, is pagan, or is insanely imaginative ever get that sense of being something 'else?' Of feeling like they don't belong, not just with their clique or family, but here in the World As It Is? (*yoink from Charles de Lint!*) Is this utterly unique to those of us who can't quite live in a world totally mundane? Or do people that you wouldn't pick for this feeling suffer from it too? What about the role-players and pagans who *don't* have that feeling? How do they manage their lives? Are they content to take the little bit of the fantastic as it comes, or does it just not occur to them that there might be something other than their prayer and paper character sheets?
What's even better is the fact that the first two-thirds of my rant was written on my blurty about two months ago, and now I'm hanging my head and trying to find a way to say "I think I really am an otherkin" without sounding ridiculous. (I said it in my head. It sounds ridiculous.) I have to side with Fenshae on the fact that furries and otherkin who believe it's simply a way to express your self-image (and since I'm a little more mystically inclined than she, your soul) and handle it as such is wonderfully acceptable. For people who think they can shapeshift and run around in their 'other' form... *facepalm* I believe in a LOT- and I mean a *LOT*- but that stretches my threshold of disbelief just a little too far. So how the hell do you say you think you're something of a principality (a classification of angel; laugh if you like, gods know I am at myself) without sounding utterly ridiculous?

Lemme know if you think of a way- I can't seem to find one.

[freelanceangel]

(All of the exerpts were taken from L. Margoni's page, at this web addy:
www.stmichael.pair.com/laitydeliverance.html)

=The Ouija board is a popular occult board game and there is also Dungeons and Dragons. Satan's main target in Dungeons and Dragons game is our youth. With Dungeons and Dragons, the most powerful and successful players are those who use magic. There is a Dungeons Master Guide that even teaches new beginners how to communicate with the dead, cast spells, and learn to chant.

~Clearly whoever wrote this paragraph has *never* played D&D as a beginning level spellcaster. *recalling my Kyako all too well* Yeah, definately the most powerful and successful. What with a hit die of 1d4, no weapons specializations or abilities, limited in what (if any) armour you can wear, dependant on spell components and study, and stuck with low-level spells that can do things like, oh say, make little balls of light dance in the air. Wow. Yeah. That's reaaaaaaaaally the most powerful way to go.
And may I add that the Dungeon Master's Guide really doesn't have anything for *players* to learn that stuff? It's all the -CHARACTERS- that have to communicate with the dead (if you're a necromancer,) cast spells (well fucking DUH,) and 'learn to chant.' (I can't recall a single damn spell in the whole of D&D that requires *chanting.* I mean seriously... That'd be like three fucking rounds. While you're chanting your happy robe-clad arse off, your party's being whomped on by minotaurs. Not so much with the chanting.) I wonder if anyone who condemns role-playing has ever, um, like read any of the books? *laughing* I love ignorance.

=The use of magic revolves around evil spirits, psychic abilities and contacting spirits. Magic is a power that does not involve God. It is a power that is derived from such things as voodoo, sorcery, primitive religions and Satanism. Most witches who use magic swear that they do not worship Satan but worship the gods and goddesses of nature (The gods and goddesses of nature are hardly Jesus Christ! Of course they worship Satan! Do not let someone who practices this occult tell you otherwise!). Many of these individuals are unknown because they blend in quite well. They can be found attending church services in every denomination and they practice their magic on the side. If someone tells you white magic is ok--don't believe them!!

~*is in hysterics now* So the gods and goddesses that came waaaaaaaaay before Jesus are...worshipping Satan? *blinkblink* I love this, absolutely fucking love this. We pagans are sooooooo sneaky. We like to creep into churches, taint the holy water and chant the Hail Mary backwards, just for kicks. *facedesk* I wonder if this person recognizes that pagans have better things to do with our time than cast 'wicked' spells and lure good, naive Christians into our clutches. We DO have to work for a living, you know. Money-drawing spells only work if you're doing something to EARN it.

=Use of new age tools such as crystals, divination, astrology, tarot cards, crystal balls, reincarnation, pendulums, Yoga, Transcendental Meditation

~So anyone who owns a crystal pendant is evil? *blink* Someone needs to tell my mom this. Like...seriously. *rereads passage, collapses with hilarity* Oh my god! Yoga is a doorway for the Devil! DAMN those flexible bodies! That position isn't church-sanctioned!!! You'll go to hell for this!

=Those who make a pact with Satan or attend Satanic services or rituals.

~ ...you know, considering God's overly elaborate and highly contradictory rules, I can see a lot of people shrugging and deciding Satan's just the easier choice. Hey, Heaven for the weather and Hell for the company, huh? *grin*

=Going to Séances, fortune tellers, Horoscopes, or spiritualist meetings for the purpose of contact the dead.

~So...demons are going to possess you if you check your MSN Horoscope?

=Those who use alcohol or mind changing drugs such as LSD, cocaine, marijuana

~There goes the entire hippy generation. Hell is going to be *packed.* (Oh wait, this is just a "if you do this, you've chosen evil, so your ass can be possessed." Is that the reason so many hippies grew up to be stick-up-ass jerks?)

=Sex out of wedlock, active homosexuals, masturbation, adultery

~Wuffie, clearly we're fucked.

=Those who have an abortion.

~Since clearly the death of children before they can suffer is much, much worse than oh, say...the Children's Crusade under Innocent III?

=Those who try to commit suicidal or have suicidal tendencies.

~ (Note: that was quoted verbatim. This person can't even get proper spelling and/or grammer. I want to 'try to commit suicidal.' How do you DO that, anyway?) We're still going with the suicide is a mortal sin thing here, huh? Now my biggest question is: if suicide is an unforgivable mortal sin, one for which you are CONDEMNED TO HELL, then why can murderers repent and go to Heaven? The taking of a life is still the main crime here. Why can doing unto others as you wouldn't do unto yourself still get you into God's graces, but ending your own suffering sends you straight to the Devil's hooves? Just paint me confused. (And amused. Highly fucking amused.)


~You know, if it wasn't for random Internet surfing, I'd never find little gems like this. The worst thing about this site is the fact that it really does humiliate Christians. (Just as those black-shrouded, emo Wiccan fluff-bunnies fuck with the pagan's image. Damn it.) I know a lot of Catholics, most of whom indulge in the 'evils that can lead to demonic possession' on a regular basis. They'd laugh their asses off at this kind of blather.
Maybe it's amusing to me because I was raised by a Jehovah's Witness, and I can clearly recall being told Ouiji board horror stories, tales of demon-possessed talking dolls, Tarot cards killing people. (Seriously.) My mother once burned all my Little Mermaid and Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles stuff because of what someone at her church told her. (I really fucking loved that t-shirt.) So I remember living in and with this kind of unbased, unbalanced terror. Doesn't it just make you want to pick this little L. Margoni up and pet him/her? "Here honey, just hide in this little box. We'll close the lid, and you'll be safe from all the 'demonistic' evil in the world. I promise." (In case you're wondering, daemonistic is apparently a word. *guess who just looked it up?* Point one for my mom. *snerk*) I think we need to get the scared bunnies of the world a big shiny box to hide in. Like a coffin style.

Yeaaaaaaaah. A nice, high-tech, shiny coffin. *snerk* That'd be nice.

[freelanceangel]

Do you ever have one of those days when you realize that you're grown up and all the dreams you had when you were little are either out-dated or now utterly impossible?

It's funny. I never worried about growing up or getting old. I grew up around my grandparents, and I've always thought that you'd have to be about sixty or seventy before you were old. Now it's about...*thinking* five months until I turn 25, and I'm starting to rethink that 'old' status.
It doesn't help that I'm the oldest out of all of my friends. (Crispy might out age me by a year or two, I'm not entirely sure.) It's so weird... I've spent most of my life being the youngest in the group- even in high school, I was skipped ahead from first to second grade, so I was kind of the 'baby' of the clubs- and I spent almost all of my time around full-fledged adults. Now...I'm the adult. Or at least the one of adult age. (I don't act my age very often, believe me. ^_~) However, all of the dreams, plans, ideas, wishes I had growing up are...well... They're expired.

When I was ten, eleven, twelve, I used to think about what I'd be like when I was sixteen. I'd be tall, slender, fiery red hair, well-liked, intelligent, confident... I even remember I'd figure that I'd wear leggings and loose t-shirts, because they'd show off my long legs, and I'd have quite the bosom at that time, so the t-shirts would be comfortable.
When I was thirteen, fourteen, fifteen, I'd imagine myself at eighteen. The same physicality would apply, but I'd be much more...grown-up, I would say. I wouldn't be clumsy or socially awkward. I wouldn't spend my spare time in public places sitting or standing around alone. I imagined that I'd be friendly, cheerful, open to others and well-liked. That I would have friends whose faces would light up when they saw me.
When I was eighteen, nineteen, I thought of myself at twenty-one or twenty-two- an image of myself standing in some low-key party, with an alcoholic drink in one hand, wearing fitted jeans and holding intelligent conversation with people who liked listening to me. The insecurities would be gone, I'd probably have an engagement ring on (naturally,) and I'd be happy. On my own, secure and content.

Now I'm twenty-four, going on twenty-five, and... None of that came true. *puzzled look* How is it that we can have such well formed ideas for our own future, and end up looking back, wondering where the time went?
I can't really complain. Physically, I'm not what I'd like to be, but I could be much worse. I've lost all the weight I gained while I was with Matt, my figure isn't half-bad (even if up-top is a bit...lacking...*grr*) and my skin's behaving with more regularity than it did. (At least now I know when to get ready for the breakouts.) My hair, well, I can dye it red, and once I have available money, I can get my nails done again. *crossing fingers* Teeth... Considering I don't want to be horribly self-conscious the rest of the day, let's avoid that issue. They're not dark brown and falling out. I'll leave it at that.
I have Neko, and I'm wearing a promise ring. Definate "yay!" there. I have friends that I would do anything for, and who I'm pretty sure would at least give me a good alibi. ^_~ I have my own apartment, I'm able to be myself without feeling judged for the most part. I love my cats, my boyfriend, my friends.

...but I still feel like my dreams fell apart.

Maybe it's just that I lived so long, and so deeply, in my own fantasy world that it puzzles me when I can't match up to my own mental images. Hell, I've got no ability when it comes to beauty stuff. I want to be girly, but I always feel horribly overdone when I try. So I'll tone it down, and then realize that there's no difference between that and my everyday attempts. I get frustrated, say fuck it, yank on loose jeans and one of Neko's t-shirts and leave it at that.
I can't match up to the images of myself that I always had, or even the ones I'd like to be, and that makes me sad in a way I can't quite verbalize. I know I can't be the fantasy creature I've longed to be my whole life, but you'd think I could at least find the clothes I like, wear them well, or manage something with my hair that isn't the same thing, day in and day out.
It's funny. I actually thought about it the other day and I realized that anyone looking at me would know that while I want to be pretty, I want to look feminine and attractive, I just don't have the patience for it. I'll work on my eyeshadow, and then I'll just fling on lip gloss. I'll find a nice t-shirt, and wear battered sneakers. I'll work on my hair, realize it's in my face and put it up in a bun. I'll wear jewelry and a holey t-shirt, a nice top and torn up jeans, nice shoes and jeans and a plain t-shirt. I just have no fucking clue when it comes to this girly shit.
What's even better is the way I squirrel away accessories, thinking that they might help with my 'image.' (What image? I'm a Sagittarius- my image is 'just ran out of the house half-dressed.') It's funny that when I thought of grown-up me when I was little, I always figured that I'd be the kind of person where people watch you go by and find themselves admiring something about you- be it your clothing, appearance, bearing, walk. (Yeah, can you tell I'm a horribly insecure little bug who really, really needs admiration to feel like something above a squished slug? *snerk*) Gods above, I'm so shallow sometimes.
It's not just physically or externally that I'm not 'matching up,' either. If it was JUST that, I could work on that. (Or attempt it anyway, and get bored or impatient halfway through. I know myself too well.) It's just... I'm still the person who- when they're alone or in a public place without friends/boyfriend around- is in the corner, smoking a cigarette or watching everyone else. I'm the person who no one approaches, (random 'want to get lunch' computer lab guy notwithstanding,) the one that no one smiles at, or even gives a random "hi." At least, not from people my own age. The older folk will talk to me. Everyone my age kind of looks over my head or right through me. Then you get that funny complex from grade/middle school kicking in, where you think if people were forced to interact with you, they'd still find a way to ignore you, because you're the most forgettable person in the world.

And I think that's what it all comes down to, really. I'm afraid of being forgotten. I'm afraid that I'm the person you meet, share time with and walk away from without even really recalling you did so. I scour my friends' webpages (not just you, Fenshae, I promise!) looking for any mention of myself, just to see if they remember we spent time together that day, the other day, last week, two years ago. Steve was remarkably comforting in that way, while we were friends, because he'd talk about things we did together, specifically mentioning me. I talk about things my friends and I did, or things they told me, just because it's a way of seeking confirmation- yes they do remember I was there that day, this day, last week, two years ago.
Even knowing people haven't forgotten me- for better or worse- doesn't seem to soothe that eternal whimper. Talking to Gordon, knowing that he remembered me, missed me, even still loves me, apparently, helps. He still has the photographs we took together at the Ren Faire, he remembers our conversations, he remembers how I taste. (He licked my arm one day and said I need ketchup.) Matt...*snerk* I know he remembers me. I'm everywhere in his mother's house, and we affected each other in too many ways for me to be forgotten. Hell, he still loathes me. That, if nothing else, is a mark of distinction.
Fenshae told me the other day- when we kicked Oni-chan and Neko off to be boys together while we shared our PMS- that I was a lot of things, but forgettable wasn't one of them. That is enormously comforting, especially since Fenshae is one of the few people I'd trust to tell me the truth about that- but still... Sometimes the only person I trust to remember me is my brother. Shane, no matter what, remembers me, thinks about me, talks about me and enjoys my company. (Why is it that I can only feel confident in his love? Is it because we're brother and sister? It shouldn't really matter, at least not to me. I mean, hell, I don't have that kind of faith even in my mother.) Still, always it's there, that "yeah, that helps but..."

I'm going to be twenty-five, and what am I to be so remembered? What's my guarantee that if something happened, anyone would recall me? I know I think about people I know/love/hate throughout the day, that I want to share comments with them, wonder what they're doing, how they're feeling, what they're thinking. Does anyone wonder about me? The question comes up again- over and over, throughout my entire life, reinforced by so many memories- in my mind, and now that a quarter century has passed, it seems like I have less time than ever to make myself memorable.
I feel oddly old, knowing I'm going to be twenty-five, and now, more than ever, I'm afraid that all my dreams were doomed before I hit twenty, and that I'll never be the kind of person I always thought I could be, would be. I'm terrified that I'm forgettable, and I wish to all the gods that I knew how to make that go away.

[freelanceangel]

Rant Warning!


Okay, that aside, now I get to talk. *rubs hands together with evil glee*


Actually, there's not much glee in what I've been thinking. It's actually frustrated anger tinged with a bit of disgust. *sigh* Now here's my question to everyone: what do you base a relationship on? Will the base have any effect on the relationship itself?

My answer to the first one? Friendship, respect, admiration.

My answer to the second one? YES.


Honestly, think about it like this- If you're building a house, what sort of foundation do you use? Would you build your home on loose sand, with only a few stones put over it for stability? Or would you find a place with heavy, well-packed soil, dig and pour concrete foundations and use THAT to build your home? Granted, it takes searching and more work, but in the end, your house is sturdy and safe.

I don't think I need to beat the metaphor home; it's pretty easy to see what I'm alluding to. However, I feel the need to say it, so I shall.

A romantic relationship is much like a home. If you support it on something inconstant, such as lust, then you're essentially building a house of cards. Lust has no staying power, and it will eventually falter, just as the sand will slide out from under your house. If you take the time to build a relationship off of mutual interests, respect, friendship and admiration of each other's qualities, you'll be building something long-lasting.

Now an example of this would be meeting someone at a party, going home with them and then entering a 'relationship' with them. Do you honestly think it's going to last? With just sexuality between you? *snerk* Try again. While yes, sexuality and passion DO have a lot to do with the success of a romantic relationship, they absolutely cannot be the basis of it. Humans are animals, with animalistic instincts, and those include mating instincts. If we're attracted to someone on a basic level- and only a basic level, mind you- then it's hormones. Those will wear off, and you'll be left looking at someone who you neither know nor truly care about.

Another example would be stealing someone's significant other. Now I know sometimes people are together for reasons no one understands, and that it seems like you stepping in is a good thing for everyone involved. Think about it this way: if the person will betray someone else with you, is it so farfetched to think they won't eventually do it with someone else to you? ...no, it's not. Granted,
I do have a personal feeling on this matter, considering this is how/why my ex-boyfriend and I broke up. A girl I had met and befriended took a liking to my ex, and he to her. Next thing I know, they've already made out and I'm left standing there like an idiot wondering what the hell happened. Did it turn out for the best? For me, yes. For them? Their relationship didn't last two years. Why? Because they didn't bother building a friendship, getting to know each other and learning about each other before they leapt into each other's arms. *shaking head* And relationships that begin with a betrayal of any kind are just incurring bad karma that's going to bite your ass.
Do my personal feelings on betrayal- which I honestly do regard as the most loathsome of crimes- make this any less true? I don't think so, and I know most people would agree with me.

Personal examples usually carry a lot of weight, simply because I've seen them at work. My boyfriend and I were friends for years- through my ex- before my ex and I broke up. Did Neko immediately leap at me? No. He waited to see how I was taking the break-up and how I'd react to hanging out with him. Over nine months, we talked, shared, spent time together, got under each other's skin, rasped each other's nerves and smiled at each other. Do I believe our relationship will last? Yes. Forever? No. I don't believe anything lasts forever, and I'll never say as much. However, our relationship was built on long friendship and understanding of who the other person is. Now, does this sound more like a house built on sand or on hard-packed soil?

I think the worst part is watching people make mistakes like that- choosing someone based on lust, infatuation or loneliness- and knowing that no matter what you say, they're going to continue the mistake. *sigh* The reason that most people won't listen in a case like that is because deep down, they know it's wrong. However, they're overridden with the driving need to be WITH someone, and the person they've chosen- be it for lust, loneliness, infatuation, revenge, whatever reason you choose- seems to fit the bill perfectly. They know, even if they won't admit it, that they're just setting themselves up for pain, but they can't admit that out loud because a more powerful need is being fulfilled.

But what, you ask, of the relationships that begin with lust and grow into something deeper?

Those, I say to you, are rare indeed. It is possible for you to start with sand and slowly build up with stones and cement until you have a stable foundation, but it doesn't happen often, nor quickly. As for the relationships built on a basis of betrayal... Seriously, what makes you think you're so special that they won't turn around and do it right to you? That they won't find another shining star in their sky who'll lure them from you? Do you think that the taint won't eventually seep through your entire relationship? That they won't make silent comparisions between you and the one they left, and eventually find you wanting?

While I'm pagan, I do agree with 1 Corinthians 13: 4-5. "Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It is not rude, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs." Love also involves compromise, integrity and honour. It involves dedication and understanding. Lust is self-seeking. Lust is not patient. It boasts, it's proud, and it is easily angered. How can you expect to build a life with someone when you never tried building a relationship with them to begin with?

This actually does upset me. Why? Because, for all that I'm curt and overly dramatic and cynical, I- much like my sweet Aria and innocent Coriline- do believe in love. I believe in romance, in forever and in saving each other. For all of the day to day annoyances, I believe that love, when it's true (and I'm not talking about fucking soulmates- see the previous rant for my opinion of THAT) can literally reshape your life. Could I live without Neko? Yes. Could he live without me? Uh-huh. Does that make our love any less because we're not entirely dependent on each other? No, it makes it more because we're choosing to share our lives out of a sense of fulfillment. I want my friends to find love. I want them to be happy, fulfilled, secure and joyous... but not for a short period of time. Not just to avoid 'being alone.' I want them to find love.

*sigh* And now I need a cigarette, because this has made me very reflective.

[freelanceangel]

Welcome to random self discovery. *snerk* Isn't it amusing? To give anyone background on the situation discussed here- my best friend, boyfriend and I tried...sort of...a polyamorous relationship. It was...an epic fail for many reasons. These pieces of my blurty entries I found particularly important. Laugh if you wish; it won't bother me.


Everyone is a duality, Fenshae. Everyone. We all have our own versions of the Wolf/Tiger, and all of us suffer from trying to create/maintain balance. How would I specify my duality? The Butterfly and the Archangel.

Butterfly: hyperactive, happy, flighty, thoughtless, exceptionally chipper, optimistic, loving, easily hurt, willing to forgive, apologetic, romantic, hopeful, impulsive, insecure, hedonistic, scared

Archangel: protective, rational, thoughtful, angry, ferocious, pessimistic, violent, jealous, suspicious, unrelentingly loyal, unforgiving, insane, defensive, vicious, possessive, self-destructive

The Butterfly rides front for the Archangel, providing everyone who knows me with a light, fluffy, happy person they can deal with. The Archangel is the Butterfly's backup. When she's hurt- and that happens pretty often, and pretty easily- she goes and hides in the Archangel's hand, and the Archangel takes over.

The Archangel is a very angry person, because it's that half that has to take all the hurt and be the one to piece things together later. The Butterfly is who cried all night Tuesday night because she was afraid that- because neither half knows why anyone loves me- Neko would fall for you, and you two would scamper off into the sunset. The Butterfly was terrified of repeating history. The Butterfly was the one who came into the Ouse and just...knew. Without it being said, she knew there had been sex- not just fooling around, or making out, but sex- and that no one had waited for her. No one bothered to tell her. No one bothered to get her opinion, ask if she was okay with that. So she fled, and the Archangel grabbed the first available sharp object and scratched the hell out of her forearms to focus on physical pain.
The Archangel drove like a demon to focus on something else, anything else. The Archangel needs the cigarettes to keep from letting the Butterfly cry, and it was the Archangel who took me to shower, and then to bed. But when I walked into my bedroom and saw a torn condom wrapper on the floor, and it was proven what I'd thought and no one had bothered to tell me... The Archangel's sword burst into flame and burnt the Butterfly's wings.

You know the funny thing? I slough hurt so easily if it's not compounded by my own guilt. Unless I've done something horrible to someone else, the hurt fades pretty quickly. My Butterfly is insanely forgiving and quick to forget, simply because she only sees things in pink. (The Archangel? Also quick to forget, but not nearly as forgiving.) I mean... I'm still hurting, but it's not bad when I'm alone. If I'm not thinking about how anyone else got hurt by this, it doesn't really bother me. It's a vague ache on the left side of my chest, and I don't pay attention to it. (I spent so much time of my last relationship with that feeling, I'm totally used to it.) So when Fenshae and I talked, it... Fuck, how do you explain this?

I mean... Sin is in the intent to do harm, to hurt. The problem with all of this? No one meant to hurt anyone else. Fenshae flat out admitted that for her it was all Tiger-leaping-experimentation. Neko said he still doesn't know what was going on. Neither of them enjoyed banging each other. (And that, more than anything else, has my Archangel frowning blackly and saying "So why the fuck DID you go through with it?!?") Both of them were very, very quick to reassure me that they didn't feel anything. On one hand, that satisfies the Butterfly- she's so insecure- but on the other hand, it just reinforces the Archangel yelling "Then why the FUCK did you do it?!?!?"
That's the part that hurts me directly. That neither of them really wanted to, really enjoyed it, and yet did it anyway. That both of them thought it was wrong with me not there, and did it anyway. That each one asked each other if it was okay, and went through with it. That is the part that hurts me directly.
But I can live with it. I don't understand it, don't like it, am still a little angry about it... but I can live with it. It's funny how my sense of fantasy and odd lack of touch with reality helps. It almost doesn't seem real- maybe because I can't attribute all of it to my own fault- and because of that, it doesn't really hit.

Am I angry with them? Yes.
Am I angry with myself? Yes.

Why am I angry with them?
Well, to quote Fenshae- and yeah, I was laughing when she said it- "I banged your boyfriend while you were at work."
Angry at Neko because: he could have said no. He could have not put on the condom, and he could have said we'll wait for Angel.
Angry at Fenshae because: she could have said no. She didn't have to try getting Neko off while I was away, and she did.

Angry at myself because: I opened the door, and I didn't stop to ask anyone what they wanted or what they were thinking.

The funny thing is? All of us are blaming ourselves. Someone I was talking to said "With something like this, you can either blame everyone, or blame no one."

My need for love- to be adored, appreciated, special, important and necessary- replaces my sexual drive. I personally don't give a flying fuck about being sexually intimate with you. Sex, for me, is so intwined with terror, fantasy and trust that my approach to it makes absolutely no sense. (*I* make absolutely no sense. I'm an abomination of nature, pretty much.) I've never understood the obession with it, nor everyone's casual approach to it. Maybe it's just because of what happened after kindergarten. I don't know, but for me, letting someone touch me, hold me, kiss me, be intimate with me requires the kind of trust that most people would need if they were going to jump off of a fifteen story building into someone's arms. Neko has earned that level of trust, and in his arms, I feel no hesitation.
It wouldn't have hurt if I'd been there. Yes, there would have been some jealousy. The Butterfly has to be everything to everyone. She's never- no matter how much she trusts, believes in, loves- secure in anyone's love. She believes she's always easily replaced, and that there's nothing unique about her in the world.

This is so fucked up. For the first time that I'm personally involved in a situation like this, I can't trace it back to my specific error. I can see where I made mistakes, and where I should have done something different, but I can't see where MY error made all of this happen. Now, if I can't see where I went wrong, how the fuck do I make it right?
Can I?
Should I?

[freelanceangel]

You've always had a slightly off feeling, haven't you?

Maybe you weren't always aware of it, but looking back, it's so evident now. The way you always seemed to be listening to something else, the way everyone treated you. Was it bad? Not always. Not everyone threw rocks at you. Some people listened to your stories, tried to track the sight line of your gazing eyes, reached out to feel what you said you could when you petted giggling flowers. There were a few who would smile when you did, and who seemed like- even if they didn't understand- they were willing to be amazed. They didn't all call you crazy, and you remember that now, don't you? It seemed like they all hated you at the time, but now that you can look back, you remember that it wasn't all painful.

A lot of it was.

Yes, you remember it. The taunting, teasing, rock-throwing, spitwad-flinging, tripping, locker-slamming, laughing, mocking, snarling hordes that backed you into corners, ran you out of rooms, knocked you off of ladders, hit you with basketballs. It's one of those things you can't forget, isn't it? All of the names you were called, all of the snide remarks that still, still sting...

Will it always hurt?

Yes, it will.

You remember, too, the nights you spent in your room staring at the walls. The nights when your books weren't enough to soothe the ache, when you'd already cleaned everything in sight and you couldn't find anything to distract yourself. The nights when you curled up in bed, clutching a pillow and trying to figure out why you were even alive. Those long nights when every part ached with no physical reason, and you knew you had to get up the next morning and put on the pretended indifference, because anything else was merely fodder for the hordes to hurt you with.
Those scars that still ache, the ones that a wrong word from a loved one can tear wide open, never fully heal. How can they? For years upon years you would try to heal them yourself, only to have all of the bandages set alight by someone's vicious words, or a well-thrown rock. You pull along, as best you can, but when your heart seems to stop beating because a loved one just threw something at you teasingly, you know the past never, ever goes away.

What hurt most of all? You remember, you still know, yes?
Of course you do. It was the puzzlement, the confusion.

Why me? Why do they all hate me? What's wrong with me? Why does everyone turn against me? What is it about me that makes them all so...hateful?

The questions that were never answered, never addressed. You never found a reason for the pain, for the anger you still have today. It seemed that there was something wrong with you that everyone else could pinpoint- like the smell of a wounded animal in the air- which remained beyond your comprehension. The questions really began to gnaw at you, and when you tried suicide the first time, it was only to silence those questions. You're an abomination of Nature, and everyone knows it, and that's why they hate you. There's something wrong with you.

For years, this has bitten your heels. Even after you didn't kill yourself- was the horse an angel incarnate? a savior? do you care? he is no less special because he was merely a horse; he was a reason to live, and that was enough- it hurt, it bit, it snapped at the back of your mind. When you cried for hours, wondering why you made everything worse merely by being yourself, wondering if anyone could ever love you the way you are, without hating some part of you, it bit harder. When everyone left you behind, taking what you gave and leaving you with the pieces of your dreams- sometimes they made irrevocable changes in you, twisted you further out of shape, took you out of your safe shell and made you interact with the world- you cried and wondered again. The old thought, the longing for home would remain subdued for months, only to rise again with violent wrenching.


Do you know what you are yet? Is it beginning to come together? Or do you still insist on believing you're nothing more than an mistake?

Yes, you do. And you probably always will, but that's hardly the point now, is it? You know these scars will never fully heal, that they'll always ache at inopportune moments. You know that your vision of the world is different- you, at least, know now that it isn't necessarily wrong- and that everyone will try to tell you what you SHOULD see. What you SHOULD think. What you SHOULD feel. You know now that you're not an abomination- while part of you suspects, always suspects, that there's something inherently wrong with you, you've learned to let it be- and you know now that there's something...different about you.

It's validation. Acceptance. Understanding. All of the things you longed for all of your life, all of the joy you tried to share with others- so few saw it for joy, so few understood it was precious, the dreams you offered them- is now considered good. It's approved, and while you always said you never needed approval- a way to defend, to shield your tender heart against the slings and arrows thrown by the world- it soothes something that was rasped raw by the mockery.
You are different, but it's... It's not bad. You're not an abomination, even if you are constantly questioning yourself. You are something else, something more than anyone ever told you that you could be, and for that, you are glad. You can bask in being yourself now, as it all has come together. There is happiness there, behind the scars, covering them, making it a little less painful to remember.

Not everyone will understand. There will still be mockery. Laughter. Scorn. You will still be called insane, weird, crazy, freak, weirdo. But now... Oh now you know, don't you? Now you know that your sense of being 'off,' your instinct that you are not like the rest is correct. That you weren't wrong. That you are not an abomination- silence the nagging voice in your head; let it only guide you to seek new knowledge, not trod your heart down- and you have found your wings at last.
You're not normal, and for that alone, you are blessed.

[freelanceangel]

"But I've always had this sense that there's something out there, waiting for me. Not here, in the World As It Is, but in the dreamlands. That there's a place for me in Faerie and I'll be there one day if I can just be good enough, or patient enough, or tenacious enough. Or...- It's a place where I'd be home, really home. I want it so badly sometimes that just thinking about it hurts."
-Jilly Coppercorn "The Onion Girl" -Charles de Lint


It's creepy when you find a thought you've held to yourself your entire life spelled out in black and white like that. When you see something you've had at the back of your mind for as long as you can remember printed out as someone else's words... A feeling hits you, and it's indescribable. On the one hand, you feel relief. There's the "Whew! So I'm not the only one! So I'm *not* crazy!" And then there's the ache, the "...maybe I can only find it in books, in 'let's play pretend' games." It's hard to explain, much less describe properly.
How can I say it? Jilly said it for me. All of my life, I've gotten this niggling feeling that I'm not where I belong. Maybe that's why I spent my childhood making up worlds, adventures and people to share them. Of course, it could just be that I'm really, really crazy. I've never been able to quite figure it out. All I know is that the idea really hits, and always subconsciously, when I'm really, really upset. I always find myself whimpering that I want to go home. Home is where the heart is, they say. So what does that mean for me? Where *is* my heart then?

It's hardest when I've been working a lot, or worrying about bills and housework. I find myself staring at my books, my fantasy movies, my role-playing stuff and wondering if that's all it is: fantasy. If maybe I'm just one of those otherkin you see online, claiming to be the tenth incarnation of the Great Elven Queen from a thousand years ago. If I really am what I've been called almost every day of my life: crazy.
I read Changeling: the Dreaming books, and all I feel is this sense of solidity. It's not fanciful cobweb, it's not intangible gossamer to me. I can *see* the reality of it in everyday life. People who become too banal, too bogged down by everyday worries turn into these Autumn People who forget they ever had dreams. Artists who spend all of their time worrying about their creativity kind of go nuts; they forget about bills, housework and things like that. I can *see* what the damn game describes, and to me, it's not fake. It's not made up. It doesn't feel like make-believe. What does that make me? A loon? I've gotten to the point that I wish I *was* certifiably crazy. At least then I'd have an excuse. I wouldn't feel like I had to hide what I think, what I believe. I've been called crazy and laughed at too much to be able to just...I don't know...be me, I guess?

It's funny. My last boyfriend told me that one of the things he loved about me was the dreams in my eyes. Yet, he was the one who lectured me about 'embarassing' him when we were out with friends. I was too loud, too wild, too exuberant, too this, too that. I've always been 'too' something in my life. There have only been....*counting* five people in my life who haven't told me I need to change, that I need to 'downgrade' to fit in. (My brother, my current boyfriend, my ex-boyfriend Gordon, Fenshae and one of my best friends.) Only five. Out of all the people I've met in my life, only *five* of them have taken me as I am. Does everyone have a demographic like that? How many of the people in our lives truly know us? How many of them accept our quirks, our needs, our demands and wants and just go with it? And when you think about it, how often do we do that for someone else?
I'd like to think I'm that kind of friend. That I just accept people the way they are and love them *because* of it, not *in spite* of it. My mom says "I love you no matter what." You know, that's a really sweet sentiment, but when you *think* about it, it's almost a little hurtful. No matter what? And what does that specify? 'I love you even if I hate most of what makes you?' Why put limitations on that? Do you *need* to tell someone that you love them 'no matter what?' Why can't we just say "I love you" and have that say all it needs to?

What does all of this say?

Honestly? Nothing. I'm not trying to get a rampant point across, merely express the sense of displacement I've had, the sense that I'm not where I belong. I wish it was something I could explain away, something that I could clearly state "I'm schizophrenic, and therefore, I have strange feelings." However... I can't. There's nothing I can use to explain the fact that I've felt I was in the wrong place since I was a small child. (While one could argue my experiences in public school could contribute to escapism and such, I had these feelings before my school experiences became unpleasant.) There's nothing else I can say beyond the fact that I don't think I'm home, even when I'm sitting in the apartment that's been Neko's and mine for fourteen months.
Perhaps this is evidence for my claim to be an angelic (with possible fae blood and/or previous incarnation as fae) otherkin. (Yeah, laugh if you like. ^_^ I'm okay with mockery. Been there and done that often enough.) Perhaps it's simply that there's something very, very inherently wrong with me, and it can't be fixed. *shrug* Either way, I hope to find where I'm meant to be one day, and maybe then, I'll feel entirely comfortable for the first time in my life.