Categories
Charleston, West Virginia men My Life Story Writings

Nice Guys

If I was a movie character I would be Rambo, no doubt.

The only way I can feel relaxed around men is when they are threatening to kill me.

Just today someone who had previously said he would curb stomp me then put me out of my misery with a bullet to the brain stem invited me for tacos.

I don’t enjoy being treated poorly but it makes me feel safe. I know what is expected of me. Compliance. In other contexts I don’t know how to function and start to panic. Like really panic.

First my kidneys seize up, then my brain shuts down. This isn’t good in social contexts because healthy people expect you to have a brain. They want you to be Captain of your Ship.

And I’m trying to rewire my brain into Captain Consciousness. But right now it freezes, scans for threats, monitors emotions & tries to glean the wills of other people so they can be followed. Cause it’s seized up in terror, especially around men and the nicer they are the worse the terror gets.

Nice guys feel like a dark fun house where the room is empty and silent and you don’t know which wall the clown is going to come busting through. The longer you have to wait, the worse the terror grows. Pins and needles until finally the clown pops to attack you. Now you can release a blood curdling scream and feel the pain of getting bludgeoned in the head, but regardless being attacked by a clown beats waiting to get attacked by one.

If I’m around a nice guy for extended periods of time, I become unable to move afterwards due to prolonged anxiety. First the kidneys seize, then the brains freeze, then the limbs. This state can last for hours or a day.

And its impossible to relax in his presence. Much less do the things expected of a modern woman like having a will and voice of your own. But these expectations are ridiculous. Can a man know what flavor of ice cream he wants while staring into the eyes of a cobra and trying to sway in just the right way to appease him? He wants whatever flavor the cobra wants because he is the cobra’s little bitch. Every human is a little bitch when they’re waiting for clowns to pop.

Nice guys feel like a tightrope stretched over the Grand Canyon. You know you’re going to make a misstep. Why not plunge to your death now and get it over with?

Missteps are certain because you don’t know the rules. They aren’t the rules you are used to, where doing & saying as little as possible is gold star behavior. Nice guys are fucking demanding. They want you to know your mind, express your mind, run your own business, be a cowgirl. Don’t take shit from no one, have a personality and know how to make your jeep jump like a frog.

Assholes only need you to not contradict them. Let them yell at you without defending yourself. Go into deep freeze mode so you can absorb quantities of anger without getting angry back. Blur out your brain so words wash over you like water. This is my skill set. But nice guys don’t value these skills. Good luck pleasing them.

And when you add to this the fact that the whole nice guy thing is probably an act and a woman eating lizard is going to bust out of his skin at any moment, you can see why they jack up my anxiety.

However, I am actively training my brain to be more positive. To believe in good things & seek them out. Because we won’t know how magical life is unless we look for magic & that all starts with believing. Or at least being open.

Yes, yes, my kidneys say, but also listen to this rhyme I just wrote!

What is a man but a clown in the dark?
Who clown clubs your head then jerks off in a park
?

Categories
Charleston, West Virginia Music & Songs Sky Blue, Ether, Flags, and Fairies

God


Wake up to pounding fear
Water rush through my ear
What did I imagine from last night?

Down through the hall to creep
Move slow the baby sleeps
Feel the walls still quivering in fright.

How did I get so weak?
How to fall so low?
When at first it felt so good to be controlled?

Warm up a slice of pie
Step slow. The baby lies.
What did I imagine from last night?

Hold head and cover eyes.
Prepare for the sun to rise
Tell brain be steady and comply.

Cause if I defend myself
He’ll knock me down again
But at first, it felt like nothing to let him win.

God you said it was true love
Breathed so deep in my ear
If that wasn’t your voice then what did I hear?

Gaze through the window pain
Clouds dry, there willl be no rain.
Gaze through the future thin & blue.

Far past the cloudy skies
Past baby where he lies
There’s no point further out than you.

How did I get so dumb?
How’d I get so slow?
When at first it felt like faith to lose control?

Lift my head up off the floor.
Must continue on.
But my first mistake was believing in you God.

Categories
Blue, Black, Silver, Water, Moons, Death & Ghosts Charleston, West Virginia Hurricane, West Virginia Music & Songs Purple, Magic & Sorcerers

The Magician (Album)

Since I am in the process of updating & readjusting the songs on my various albums, I wanted to save this version here, along with my explanation of magicians & how they are formed below…

At first this was going to be two separate albums: The Magician (songs about a magician) and Crazy 8s (songs about people being sacrificed, raped, and murdered). However, I have come to feel these albums are really one and the same, because it is the people who get raped and murdered who come back to life as magicians. Terror, shock, and horror are the parents of supernatural power. Why? I don’t know. I think of our souls as being minerals, transformed by circumstances good and bad. Circumstances sufficiently horrifying knock out a piece of our humanity and replace it with something animalistic, straight from nature.  Or, to put a psychological spin on it, being overpowered creates an obsession with power. Being overpowered by forces outside our control leads to a desperate need to extend our sphere of control. And so we turn to the occult.

However, before you run out and try to get murdered, keep in mind that this process of going through a black hole (as I like to think of it) will generally not work out in your favor. If, on the other hand, you have already been murdered, you may as well embrace the changes that have occurred and try to make the best of it.

So, what is a magician? Someone who uses supernatural power, of course. And what is supernatural power? It is the power of nature- not just whales and recycled paper, but all the power, life force and emotion built into the material world. Including factories, plastics, atom bombs and everything we consider bad. To me, coal, oil, the soil of a graveyard at midnight, or the frightening feeling of walking through a dense forest after dark best capture the essence of this supernatural power. It is black, rich, without morals, and capable of anything.

This contrasts it with spiritual powers, which connect to the divine hierarchy to enact change in the world. Spiritual powers are subject to the many rules and regulations of divine will. On the spiritual planes, power is never separated from wisdom. There are spiritual forces with more wisdom than power, but never the reverse. Therefore, connecting to the spiritual realm for help is generally safe. Perhaps you will get no help at all, but you are unlikely to be harmed.

Supernatural powers- or black magic, as they are commonly known- have no built in safeties, however. The forces involved make no judgments as to what should or should not be.  Therefore, the unwise, or (even worse) brave magician is almost certain to bring disaster on himself. The fact that his powers are borne of trauma, and he is likely filled with unresolved rage, terror, and confusion does not help at all. Most likely his powers will end up destroying his self and wreaking havoc on those around him. Think wife beaters, addicts, prostitutes… anyone whose life is filled with destructive black chaos… anyone with dark and obsessive emotions they cannot control.

So make it your goal to avoid going through one of these black holes, if possible.  The best way is to stay safe and not put yourself in harm’s way. When that is not an option, the second best choice is to fight as hard as you can. Whether it is a human or natural cause that is trying to take you down, if you try your best to win and defeat your enemies, no matter the outcome, you will come back stronger. Even if you are killed in a bar fight, so long as you fight your very hardest, you will not be sent through a black hole but instead be reborn as a man with giant muscles. No matter what the odds are, always pretend you have a chance, and fight accordingly. Do your best to crush your enemies and reach for the golden victory. Hold nothing back.

If, however, you have already been through a black hole (many are sent through as children, when they are too naive and trusting to know they should fight), the best thing you can do is to try to gather enough golden wisdom to balance out your black power. Gold is a dry and uplifting color that will drain out some of the seethingness and connect you to the angels.

So at any rate, these are songs about magic, magicians, and the color black.

Categories
Kentucky Music & Songs The Savage Life Uncategorized

Easter Hill

 

Nude woman with pastel ribbon and polka dots.

When I wrote this song, I was scared all the time. A feeling of absolute terror and doom was a constant in my life. If I was taking a shower, I would feel like a psycho was just about to pull back the shower curtain. If I was walking outside, I would feel like a car was just about to screech to a halt and force me inside at gunpoint.

Because of that, I suppose, I tried to surround myself by things that were as non-threatening as possible. Everything in my apartment had to be pale pink (or white when that wasn’t possible). Pictures of unicorns had to fill every wall (preferably baby unicorns being protected by their mothers). I only read children’s books and rarely  ate anything other than dessert. I would spazz out and begin to cry if James mentioned anything remotely dangerous or violent from the news or world events.

Smells would especially freak me out. I couldn’t tolerate the smell of any savory food. And perhaps due to living in such a smell bubble, my sense of smell started to get more and more sensitive. Soon, I could tell what James was thinking about through subtle “smell puffs” he would release. Cupcake or baked good puffs meant he wanted to spend time with me, and the faintest puff of meat and tomatoes meant he was thinking about work, with garlic and onions being added if he was angry at his boss.

 

Download MP3: Easter Hill