#BlogBattles, Stories...

“Pooping Monstrosity!…” (#BlogBattles: Airtight)

“Pooping Monstrosity!…,” erupted the man in the back row, venting his frustration more loudly than he might have intended. But as all eyes turned his way, he made the conscious decision to capitalize on his 15 minutes of fame today…

Standing so he might better be seen, he committed fully to his chosen position. “Do you honestly believe this crap you are shoveling?! Do you actually practice this tripe you are dumping upon these mindless, desperate souls?! Why, you’re nothing more than a vicious, overgrown raptor with a bad case of the runs!” Red-faced and furious, he paused to catch his breath.

Mild-mannered and calm, the Speaker responded. “I take it you disagree, Sir?”

Apoplectic with rage, the man could only sputter incoherently, spittle flying in all directions as he nodded his head vigorously…

“Is there any particular part of our program you take exception to?,” the Speaker asked politely, then waited patiently for a reply.

“How about ALL of it?!!…,” the man finally managed to squeeze out. “The meek shall inherit the Earth?!… What Earth is that, exactly? Have you looked outside this climate controlled prison lately? There is no Earth left!!!”

“Or how about this nonsense about ‘turning the other cheek’?,” he added, warming to his topic now that his voice had found release. “What possible purpose could that serve besides giving you and your cronies a clean canvas upon which to smear your intestinal fortitude?”

“I feel your pain,” the Speaker murmured soothingly. “I understand your consternation…”

“Consternation?!,” the man interrupted rudely. “Try constipation instead! Too many years locked up in here, with morons like you in charge! Preaching love and light and peace while the whole world is dying!,” he ranted, adopting the mocking tone of bullies from another time.

The Speaker left the podium, stepping softly down the aisle nearest the irate man. The circular room provided easy viewing to all the audience members, caught up in this real-life drama. The eyes of each and every one followed the Speaker’s progress, reflecting a myriad of moods and expectations. The angry man bore witness to their internal dialogues, noting everything from mild apathy to hopeful sparks of courage, which further ignited his passion.

“Look at you! Look at you all! What is wrong with you?! Can’t you see what bull this is?! Can’t you see how they control you with this filthy bunk, leading you to slaughter like the mindless sheep you are?! Where is your pride? Your outrage? Your yearning to be free?!”

The Speaker stopped a few feet from the man, opening arms wide so as to appear less threatening. “How can I help you, Sir? What is it you need?”

“Need?!…,” the man sputtered. “What do I need?!… Seriously?!”

“Yes, of course,” the Speaker continued, without missing a beat. “Very seriously. What do you need?,” spoken quite gently.

The man snorted loudly, slowly releasing steam. Sensing his fifteen minutes were rapidly expiring, he groped desperately through his mind for one last memorable point to make. The silence was deafening as the whole room waited breathlessly to hear his gut wrenching plea…

And inspiration struck quite suddenly…

Urgently he dropped his pants and the shorts he wore beneath. Squatting over his vacated seat, he grunted loudly as he made his opening comment a reality…

And it was only then, and in the fatal moments that followed, that the people came to know just how airtight their biosphere needed to be to protect their fledgling society from the ravaged planet outside.

And another Utopian world fell to the evil empire of Chipotle…

(600 words)

Written for #BlogBattles: Airtight

https://blogbattlers.wordpress.com/2019/05/06/blogbattle-airtight/

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Flashback...

Re-Post of “Mommy!”

I am re-posting this poem I wrote originally in December 2015. It calls to me this Mother’s Day, reminding me of all that we are losing day by day. I can’t stop crying, and the cold rain outside merely mirrors my distress…


“Mommy!…”

Standing on my porch I hear

the sounds of children playing near:

Peals of laughter…

Squeals of delight…

Wails of woe…

Cries of sorrow.

And occasionally a word

I can actually make out:

“Mommy!”…

“Mommmy!”…

“Mo-ommmy!”…

“Mom-mmm-mmyy!”

I remember only too well

what each one means:

“Mommy, I’m hungry!  Feed me.”

“Mommmy, I’m hurt!  Heal me.”

“Mo-ommmy, I’m lost!  Guide me.”

“Mom-mmm-mmyy, I’m scared!  Protect me.”

And suddenly I hear the echoes

deep within my soul…

Demanding…

Screaming…

“Mommy!…  Mommmy!…  Mo-ommmy!…  Mom-mmm-mmyy!”

But there is no relief coming

not this time…

not for me…

My Mother is dying

Right here at my feet…

I fall to my knees

Sobbing…

Grieving…

Knowing She cannot help me…

And in my heart

I hear her soft response

Her quiet plea:

“Daughter, I cannot feed you, for I am overwhelmed.”

“Daughter, I cannot heal you, for I am much too weak.”

“Daughter, I cannot guide you, for I do not understand.”

“Child, I can’t protect you when I need protection myself.”

“Help me, Daughter…”

“Please help me.”

I lay down

upon my Mother’s breast…

Devastated…

And confused…

For I know not what to do.

I am only one.

One child among billions

and powerless to boot.

And rising from the Earth beneath me

I feel love and comfort still.

Knowing She will support us until her final breath.

Never abandoning…

Even if it means

Her death…

And then the anger comes…

A rage against injustice!

For all that She has given us

that She should be treated thus!

And lifting my head, my soul cries out

Shrieking…

Loud enough that every heart should hear:

“Wake up, you fucking morons!!!”

“Wake up, everyone!!”

“Wake up, you stupid humans!”

” My siblings all…”

“Unite!”…

“for our Mother’s sake…. Unite!”

Set aside your petty rivalries

However big or small they seem

After all our Mother has sacrificed

How can you be so mean?!

She needs our help!

All of us…

Working together

In Love and trust.

Deny your Fathers and their demands:

Their greed…

Their wars…

Their pride.

And know

if we do not save our Mother

then all your causes

cannot save you.

For soon enough

there will be nothing left

worth fighting over

or dying for…

And then what will we do?

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Reflections

Reaching Out…

… one mother to another

in love, respect and honor.

Whether you birthed life,

… nurture life,

… or simply revere life,

as a woman who loves,

you are mothering.

May we reach out to touch,

… hug

… and support one another,

until our love encompasses the whole of the Earth,

embracing the One who gives Life to us all…

HAPPY MOTHER’S DAY!!!

❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

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#BlogBattles, Stories...

The Case Against Shielding… (#BlogBattles: Airtight)

(An excerpt from Diary of an Empath: Volume 5)

MAY 8, 2019:

Ever since I was a child, just beginning on this journey to become what I have always been, I have been told, and taught, to shield myself. A necessary skill for one such as I. So I was warned, and so I believed…

“You are Light and Love,” the Teachers would impart. “And all things twisted and dark will be drawn to you. You must learn to shield yourself, to protect yourself at all costs, for if you fail, the darkness will swallow you, and you will not want to be the monster you become!”

The monster you become… While other children hid from monsters in their rooms, in their closets, under their beds, I fought a constant battle against the monster who lived within. Always a threat. Always watching. And waiting. For a mistake. For a break. For a chance to be free…

Why would anyone say such things to a child of two or three? How can any child live under such constant threat, such persistent fear, and not seek refuge in insanity?

To be fair, though, I must admit such fear drove me on when all I wanted was to be left alone. And there seemed to be some truth to what was told to me. The world outside was full of malicious beings. There were Wraiths and Vampires, Demons and Deceivers, all seeking to weaken me. There were psychopaths and sociopaths, narcissists and victims, each trying to entrap me. All of them drawn to me. And I, being an empath, reaching for the wounded spaces within each and every one of them…

So yes, shielding was an important skill for a young empath to learn…

My favorite, of course, was the glass house. Surrounded on all sides by clear barriers that allowed me to see what was happening in the world, without letting any of that world actually touch me. At first it was permeable, allowing in breezes and scents and sounds. But in time I could no longer stomach the smell of smoke and death and decay in the dying world I witnessed. Nor could I sleep with the screams of the tortured, the sobs of the broken, the moans of the wounded, or the hopeless prayers of the forgotten. I shuddered at the gloating of the bullies, the boasting of the “winners,” the maniacal laughter of lost causes. So I closed off the shield, making it airtight and impenetrable…

And I was alone. At last. A mere witness to the suffering all around. For a time that suited me, providing a respite from the unrelenting pressures of life as an empath. For a while. And it was tempting to stay in there forever…

Until I remembered the monster who lived within…

He showed himself to me one day, a reflection in the glass surrounding me. A massive green head, horns tipped in gold, burning amber eyes intense and focused, staring straight into my soul. I was terrified! I turned to run, but there was nowhere to go, trapped as I was in my self-made prison. I shouted at the world outside, pounding on the glass walls to get their attention, crying and fighting, and begging to be saved! But my fear had made me strong, and my shield reflected that, and none outside that barrier even slowed down, blind and deaf to my suffering…

As I evolved, so did the shield, becoming more flexible, more fluid, like an aura surrounding me. At least it allowed me to move, to run, to hide more effectively. For now I could blend in with the masses, pretend to be whatever I needed to be. It let me interact with the others of this world. The darkness came and surrounded me, but it could not touch me. I felt safe. Finally…

Until the day Truth blindsided me. I woke up choking on my own hypocrisy. Such sweet irony, a bitter pill to swallow. For here I was, a fully trained adult empath, completely isolated from the world I chose to inhabit. I had been taught a hundred words each to describe anger, fear, sorrow and grief, but I could not feel any of them myself! I knew a dozen strategies for dealing with common points of suffering, yet I could not heal those I could not reach!

I heard the monster laugh within, a guttural sound of victory. For I had, indeed, become what I most feared and loathed: a relic from another time, a useless tool to be enshrined. I panicked, short of breath, suffocating in that airtight space. I struck out against all I had been taught, shattering that shield, and all the others that revealed themselves to me. Layer after layer fell away, until there was nothing left but me…

And the darkness rose and smothered me…

Who knows how much time passed as I stumbled through that forsaken world, baffled by its twisted logic, gagging on its corruption, chafing against its injustices, paralyzed by its suffering? It was a nightmare; no longer a question of theory and practice, but an endless flight through a labyrinth of pointlessness, with walls ever closing in on me. And a new form of airlessness engulfed me, making it impossible to breathe…

But the beast within retreated, content to watch and mark my progress…

And I emerged. Eventually. Tripping into that center space, cloud covered but light at least. I lay there on that dewy grass, exhausted, and simply breathed… And peace settled over me.

*** *** ***

Today I met a man who seemed so perfectly normal. Quirky and fun and self-aware. Until someone asked him a question he couldn’t answer, a question about what he wanted. And I watched him freeze, begin to stutter, ’til panic stole his voice completely. I heard him gasping like an asthmatic, knowing how his throat was closing. I felt his heart racing, my own reaching to sync with his. I reached out to touch him, his whole body trembling against my fingertips…

And I understood exactly where he was. Trapped within his own airtight shield, made strong by deeply held fear. Anxiety. Crippling, unreasoning, and suffocating…

“Breathe,” I whispered soothingly. “Just breathe…”

(1042 words)

Written for #BlogBattles: Airtight

https://blogbattlers.wordpress.com/2019/05/06/blogbattle-airtight/

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Reflections

Laughing at myself today…

… but not out loud, I’m afraid.

Not sure why, really, unless it’s just that – I’m afraid. Afraid, but not fearful. Is there even a true distinction between the two? I don’t know, but my internal vocabulary coach seems to think there is. At least for today, anyway…

I’m laughing at myself today because I cannot name my own feelings. Me?! The person who frequently preaches the need to expand our emotional vocabulary? The person who believes that accurately identifying such feelings lead naturally to resolving the foundations of them? Me?! Seriously?!

Oh yeah… Dead serious. I’m playing the cop-out game today: tired, numb, depressed(?), apathetic, detached, unmotivated, peaceful, still, nonreactive… They all feel the same to me. L, but not OL…

Change is happening. Necessary. Wanted. Expected. Hoped for. But not happy making… L, but not OL…

I am exactly where I want to be. But I am restless in the extreme. So long as I don’t have to physically move, that is… L, but not OL…

I can feel the creative impetus stirring deep within, rising up as pure potential waiting to be formed and shaped into something shareable. A cauldron boiling, glimpses of possibilities in clouds of steam, liquid manifestation just reaching the lip, poised to spill upon the world. But it is nothing attempting to influence nothingness… L, but not OL…

I am complete. My true, authentic self. Yet I am completely empty inside… L, but not OL…

How is this even real?

How can it even be real?

But if it’s not real, then that laughter echoing in silence is nothing more than madness. Perhaps that is why I am afraid…?

Laughing at my self today. But not out loud, I’m afraid…

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Uncategorized

I cannot like you, and I don’t know why…

Just letting you all know that WordPress and I are having issues yet again. *sigh* I cannot like your posts from email or from your actual sites. I cannot always comment. In fact, for most of you who I follow, a new glitch has occurred…

Now, when I go to your site, I am offered the option to follow you, even though I still receive your emails directly in my inbox. If I click on that, thinking I’ve been booted again, it asks me to sign in to my WordPress account, and then fails to recognize my password when I try. The only reason I can post this explanation (if it does, indeed, post), is because I am permanently logged into my site.

Technology is not, and has never been, my friend. It is a necessary “evil” for interacting in today’s world. And honestly, I’m tired of trying to make it work for me. I accept it as the tyrant and tormentor it is, and do my best to find a way to creatively side-step its ever-changing rules and expectations. This post is another attempt to do just that…

But I love what you all have been writing lately, even if I can’t express that in real-time. 😁

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