Following Fire (Video)

I wish I could dive head first into a pool of mud. Can you even imagine how amazing that would feel?

Following fire, half-deranged by desire
Like a zombie I walk through the night.
Every dark alleyway, every car breakaway
Leads in my fantasy somewhere so bright.

Reason, morality- never my gifts;
I had the gift of belief.
I light a fire for you, filled with desire for you-
I know you see. I know you see.

Fire in the sky if you let him come by
I will pay you back for all that you’ve given me.
Pay you with blood, it’s the ruby of God,
I will open myself to you, please!

Following fire, melted down by desire
And the star that I follow is hope.
Making me pay like a knife every day-
I know you won’t, I know you won’t.

Lighting a candle for you every night
Cause I know you are drawn to the flame.
I see your spirit a butterfly flicker-
You won’t cause me pain, you won’t cause me pain.

Fire in the sky if you let him come by
I will pay you back for all that you’ve given me.
Pay you with blood, it’s the ruby of God
I will open myself to you, please!

Lighting a fire, half-deranged by desire
And the stars that are drawing me high.
Thinking of you, like a fire you can burn away
Hands on my throat, lay down or die.

Holding my finger right next to the candle wick-
Strong is the thing I must be,
Just until I can draw you to my flame.
You won’t hurt me. You won’t hurt me.

Home

Step softly now
See their hooded eyes
Keep us close at hand
You may need our quick advice.

But everybody’s watching you
They got a lot to say
Just keep their words within a jar
We’ll open it one day.

After all
Life was never meant to be your home.
Life was never nothing but the road you chose to take.

Step softly now
Feel the hidden hand
Through the bushes it extends to you
The outline of a man.

Then he says “Hide! Duck!
Back up against the van where they can’t see you
Crawl over to the shadows where we’re waiting
For we may be the only ones who need you.”

After all
Life was never meant to be your home.
Life was never nothing but the road you chose to take.

And how do you feel now?
Standing on your own
Like a column made of fire
A feeling that you could be quite alone?

Move swiftly now
Don’t believe you have a friend
They just like to watch you trip and fall
They’ll push you down again.

So quickly run back
Into the alleyway where they can’t see you
Press up against a tree and we will be there
Perhaps we are the only ones who need you.

After all
Life was never meant to be your home.
Life was never nothing but the road you chose to take.

Download: Home

Following Fire

Following fire, half-deranged by desire
Like a zombie I walk through the night.
Every dark alleyway, every car breakaway
Leads in my fantasy somewhere so bright.

Reason, morality- never my gifts;
I had the gift of belief.
I light a fire for you, filled with desire for you-
I know you see. I know you see.

Fire in the sky if you let him come by
I will pay you back for all that you’ve given me.
Pay you with blood, it’s the ruby of God,
I will open myself to you, please!

Following fire, melted down by desire
And the star that I follow is hope.
Making me pay like a knife every day-
I know you won’t, I know you won’t.

Lighting a candle for you every night
Cause I know you are drawn to the flame.
I see your spirit a butterfly flicker-
You won’t cause me pain, you won’t cause me pain.

Fire in the sky if you let him come by
I will pay you back for all that you’ve given me.
Pay you with blood, it’s the ruby of God
I will open myself to you, please!

Lighting a fire, half-deranged by desire
And the stars that are drawing me high.
Thinking of you, like a fire you can burn away
Hands on my throat, lay down or die.

Holding my finger right next to the candle wick-
Strong is the thing I must be,
Just until I can draw you to my flame.
You won’t hurt me. You won’t hurt me.

Download MP3: Following Fire

David Berman of the Silver Jews- Grabbing them by the Pussy


Although I wasn’t familiar with his music, I read about David Berman in a UVA alumni magazine & a friend of mine told me that he was famous & living in Nashville, so I thought that was cool and invited him to play a show with me.

He showed up with a little posse and a smoke machine, since- rather than singing- he wanted to recite poetry with smoke blowing behind him. I remember feeling sorry for him, standing on the stage with smoke blowing behind him, as though the need of a smoke machine made him pathetic somehow.

It is usually a bad sign when I feel sorry for someone. Clinton, Weiner, Epstein, Weinstein- most sexual predators trigger pangs of pity in me and I don’t even know why. Crossed wires, probably.

And then of course, feeling pity for a man makes me feel guilty, since I imagine men don’t want to be seen as pitiful, which causes me to twist my mind into a state of deep admiration, just in case they can sense my thoughts. I always feel responsible for boosting men’s self-esteem as though they are little boys and I am their nanny. If they look stupid, I feel pain.

Anyway, after the show he walked up to me where I was sitting on a stool and stuck his hand up my skirt real fast and grabbed me on the flesh at which point animal consciousness took over and I started kicking him. There were at least six people watching, but maybe more.

I don’t remember what happened after that except that one of his posse was trying to calm me down and make sure I didn’t call the cops since, as he said, Berman had a beautiful wife at home and this would break her heart etc etc. Berman too was a troubled man with a heart of gold and they would make sure to straighten him out. He also said what Berman did was really really bad which was useful information for me since on my own I might not have figured it out. After all, my husband was one of the people watching and I don’t recall him saying anything about the incident or being particularly concerned.

(Which, in retrospect, makes sense considering that he got me to marry him by grabbing my crotch as we were zooming down the highway on the way to what I thought was a spiritual retreat. Then he said I needed to marry him because sexual contact outside of marriage was wrong.)

All in all, the Berman incident didn’t loom large in my mind. If it hadn’t been for the posse member talking me into not calling the cops (which I wouldn’t have done anyway, considering that I had a supernatural fear of police plus no concept that forcing hands into privates was a crime) I might not even remember it. It just seemed to blend into the general spirit of the time. I even sent Berman a Christmas card afterwards. How embarrassing.

But for some reason, a few days ago, I was telling my current husband about it, and he wanted to beat Berman up, so I googled him and found that he had hanged himself a couple weeks prior. I wasn’t sure how to feel about it all. My husband said he wouldn’t be surprised if someone had offed him.

And then I was reading the articles about his poetry & music which all seemed to agree that above all, David Berman was a symbol of goodness and decency. Maybe he was, who knows? Goodness & decency have always creeped me out.

*

P.S. Though I always considered this incident to be quite minor, with no impact, in some respect it (along with other incidents) maybe did have the stereotypical impact on me.

I assumed I was basically asking for these things, considering I was wearing a skirt and also a lace camisole on top of my polo shirt. So I reconsidered my clothing choices.

I assumed I was pretty much asking for it by singing songs about mating with rabbits and making love to plants and fathers. So I tried to tone down the sexual content of my songs which (as a Scorpio) just meant writing less in general.

I assumed I was pretty much asking for it by hanging out in slimy bars at night. So, it *possibly* played a role in my decision to stop performing.

I assumed I was pretty much asking for it by interacting with males so much in general, although that couldn’t be helped since they made up the bulk of the music world. For a long time, I tried to avoid interacting with males at all to avoid giving the impression that I was a pervert.

But I don’t know. I am just thinking about this now for the first time. For some reason I never really thought about it until I found out he was dead.

Sexual Fantasies- Messages from Another World

Sexual desires & fantasies share the symbolic language of dreams. They are chock full of information, but not usually to be taken literally. I divide them into two main categories:

1. Generative Fantasies. Generative Fantasies lead you *towards* something that is supposed in your life. The most obvious example is feeling lust towards the person you are meant to marry.

Other sorts of Generative Fantasies:

  • Decoys. A Decoy is an object of desire designed to lead you into another world. Perhaps you lust after a person who lives in another country and this compels you to travel there. Perhaps they are part of a club or social circle you are meant to join and they draw you towards it like a magnet. Maybe they live in a fantasy world that you are also meant to inhabit. In any case, once the decoy successfully draws you into this new world, your attraction to them should cease.
  • Mirrors: A Mirror reflects a piece of yourself or your destiny that you need to pick up. Perhaps they are rich and pompous and you are meant to become that way. Perhaps they are a professional clown and you are meant to be one too. Once a person internalizes the relevant aspects of the Mirror, the magnetic pull of the individual should cease.

2. Degenerative Fantasies: Degenerative Fantasies are based on wounds from the distant or recent past.  They have a compulsive quality and can be destructive to pursue, since they lead straight into the darkness one is trying to escape. In general, they are designed to release negative feelings like shame, anger, fear, sadness, humiliation, weakness, dirtiness etc. Degenerative Fantasies can be triggered by current events that peel the skin from old wounds.

The key to navigating these fantasies is recognizing that they do not reflect a desire, but rather an anti-desire. They are a desperate urge to release an inner demon. If examined carefully, a person will find that the stimulating aspect of these fantasies is an exact replica of the feeling or trauma they are trying to release- though possibly in a symbolic form. Once a person gets to the bottom of this message, the desires should release.

*

And then of course, there is regular sexuality based on reality and not fantasy, but I would feel like a pervert discussing that.

All I really want to convey is that sexual desires & fantasies are no product of biology, but rather messages from the spirit world (in the case of generative fantasies) or (in the case of degenerative fantasies) messages from the subconscious.



 

Threes

Hold me by the wrist.
Hold me to the ground.
Watch the world it flies
Spinning round and round.

Tell me what you know.
Tell me everything.
Pressed into a box.
Pressed into a ring.

See clouds that fly.
See them flying free.
That third one is I-
Do you recognize me now?

Their reflections fly
Flowing down the stream
Round my ankles I
Need you to release me now.

In the mirror there,
I saw you again
Like a foggy man
Close behind me then

Pressing into me
Your two hands were tied.
We’re in this world now
Like the square it binds.

Catch a bird that flies
Slice him into three.
Like a man he dies-
Do you understand me now?

Capture any bird
Capture anything
The relentless claw-
Do you understand me now?

When I heard your words
They were only sounds
Tying up my brain
Filling it with brown.

And my heart was tied
Like an animal too.
Our words weren’t the same
How could I explain to you?

Something isn’t right.
Something spinning wrong.
Shapes are scratching now.
Not where I belong.

Every cloud that flies
Breaking up in threes
Meaning something dies
Do you recognize me now?

DownloadMP3: Threes

Ferris Wheel (video)

Definitely, I would say this is the song that describes me most, except that I have never thought of myself as green, except for maybe one short year, when I was trying to get in touch with the spirit of music, and I figured it was somewhere in between the colors blue & green, so I gave away all my pink & white things to trade them in for blue & green ones.

I even wore a stretchy blue teddy bear sweater on my head as a hat. I was very poor and it was on clearance for $1, so I just hoped no would would notice the little sleeves. I also tried to eat as much black licorice as possible & scent everything with anise & fennel, which seemed to me (along with lilac) to be the most musical scents, due to their twisted nature.

Music is a twisty sort of thing that connects what is real to what isn’t. Like an affirmation in reverse, music is a channel through which bad things can exit reality. You should never sing about anything good, because you might spin it out of existence.

Music expands our reality in a horizontal direction. It can’t connect us to upper or lower realms, but rather opens the door to realities that are parallel to our own. I think of these as the etheric worlds- where beings similar to the ones in storybooks live. Beings who are eternal, amoral and tied in to the same physical reality as us. Especially those semi-transparent humanoid beings who are around 4 feet high.

But none of this relates to this song, which was written more recently and not during that blue & green time. It was a song I heard while sleeping, which turned out to be the time of a lunar eclipse, which makes sense, given its silvery feeling. I don’t think of the moon as being only silver though, but also green since it turns everything into goo, just like the primordial green ooze that the world came out of.

Sometimes I feel like I am drowning in primordial ooze and struggling to come up for a breath of crisp air.

*

The moon a crescent in the sky
The world a carpet down below
He came to place me on the ferris wheel
His face a shadow in the show.

Green. Green.

Pull back the curtain and you’ll find
An empty room that know one knows
Shake your head and climb the ferris wheel
This is the world that you will come to know.

Green. Green.

I thought the flowers they would one day, one day
I thought the leaves and trees would one day call me home.

You take my hand just like a leaf
You show my foot just where to go
You help me climb upon the ferris wheel
You point down at the world below.

Green. Green.

Mostly, I think it is a really bad idea to include photographs of husbands. Not to mention that James values his invisibility. And yet… for the sake of context, I feel he needs to make a yearly appearance. After all, most of my adult years my identity has been that of a wife (to him + a previous husband) & not so much an individual.

But of course, I am trying to defy nature by changing that which is just one reason why including any photographs of James is a bad idea.

My Resolution

I am posting this here, because it is my resolution & I need to remember it at all costs:

I must never be nice to any men or give them complements.

Not that I am going to be mean to them either. The goal is to be neutral and if I need a subject to talk about, I will talk about how awesome I am.

Because men are computers and kind words are milk that gum them up. Because men are dogs and complements register as signs of submission and inferiority.

Good men don’t want to be coddled anyway. Men don’t take bubble baths to relax. Generally, they can only relax through murdering something, in one form or another. Why waste precious milk on beings who don’t need it?

Not only will niceness corrode the character of good men, it also signals to bad men that you are available for mistreatment.

But this will be hard. Not being nice is probably the hardest thing for females to do. It may be physically impossible.

I am going to try, though, as an experiment. I can only pray Heaven will loan me the  balls to follow through. If it works, and I have finally discovered the secret to men, I will let you know.

But let’s face it, I will never be able to follow through. I can already feel complements welling up in my mind. Women are programmed to sacrifice self for others and there is nothing we can do about it.

And, fwiw, when I compared men to dogs, I didn’t mean it as an insult. I really like dogs. Just like men. They are amazing.

Golden Hay (Video)

This is my official West Virginia song.

“Take Me Home Country Roads,” though somewhat accurate (the dark & dusky part), also leaves people with the mistaken impression that this is a home sweet home goody goody golden biscuit sort of place, which- except for the biscuit part- it isn’t. It is the least goody goody square place I have ever seen.

West Virginia is a weird combination of things that are too earthy to be human, and things that are too spiritual to be human with not much to flesh out the middle parts. Being neither earthy, nor particularly spiritual myself, I don’t relate to many elements of life here. Still, I recognize it as a nurturing environment- like a womb- where a person can focus on growing into themselves, rather than running around chasing after shiny things.

Plus, I like its purple & gray mists. It is one of those rare places where, in the battle between nature and man, nature is winning. Living here forces you to seek a life beyond human games and human prizes. It is a true land of opportunity where you can grow in any direction you wish and there is not much to stop you. Unless, of course, you need an organized grid of human structures and expectations to help you function. Then you are screwed. This is a world where you have to bring your own yellow.

Can you see how this place is nice but also different from an office space?

Life
may not be real
Pikey what a thing to say
you know that you weren’t raised that way

And yet
sometimes I fear
God has left me so alone
a million miles from any home

To walk a road that has no end
The golden hay lies beyond the bend.

But why would we break?
Why would we cry?
In the end it’s only pain
we’ve known it in so many ways

I know
she felt it too
Remember her, that little bird
so soft we never heard a word

A hint of pink behind the door
and in the end a pile of feathers on the floor

Pikey, you know it won’t be long
Take my hand, I can feel their eyes
descending from the bluest skies

My gun
My iron bar
Life remember I was your friend
I knew that you had no end

Your fields were filled with golden hay
Three clouds they fly above then slowly drift away.

We Fly

Trying to relate to the person I was when I wrote this song, a week or two ago. So much has happened since then. Do you ever feel like you know who you are, but then you realize it was never you, you were just possessed by someone else’s ghost? That is sort of what happened to me.

About a year ago, you see, I started feeling unbearably jealous around the clock. Not jealous of anything in particular, but just this endless jealous feeling would that never let up. I would just wake up feeling painfully jealous and then try to figure out who or what I was jealous of. I tried all of the classical remedies for jealousy- like carrying holly leaves in your pocket- but none of them made a dent. And the more jealous I became, the more suspicious, sly & paranoid I grew as well.

Eventually I just grew to accept that I was a supernaturally jealous person and there was nothing I could do about it.

Until a couple days ago, when I was looking at the dark green cloud covering my stomach, and realized that these actually weren’t my feelings of at all- I was just absorbing other people’s negative green feelings like a sponge. I think this is pretty common really, for people to be sponging up the negative emotions of others. Some people are more sponge-like than others though, and also specialize in sponging up different sorts of colors.

Although I am pretty far on the sponge end of the spectrum, I have met a couple people who are more spongy than me. When I am around them, I always feel better, knowing if I stand near them I will magically become poised and collected, while they will start babbling incoherently and then slip on a banana peel.

So always keep someone more spongy than yourself around, is my advice. Or if you are a man, just get married and there is an 80% chance your wife will do the trick.