Categories
Charleston, West Virginia Earth, Pink, Mothers, Love men Music & Songs Sky Blue, Ether, Flags, and Fairies

Brother oh

These plates, called “Friendly Village” (which I don’t own) were the inspiration for this song. There is something so romantic about plates, especially when they contain pictures framed in brown designs. The color brown itself is so dreamy. It represents that ideal you are always reaching for but can never find…. security, home.

His hands upon me I was spun around.
Tripping over my feet through the softly fading town

Brother no… nobody leads the way
Brother no… nobody leads the way

He turns towords me when the evening shines
His hands upon my head I’ll wait until my time

Brother no….. nobody leads the way
Brother no….. nobody leads the way

First it seems to be a no go
Then he tells you things will fade away
All the while the winds begin to blow
And so you stumble on the way

I know nothing’s gonna make up your mind now love
This is just a matter of fact
I try putting all my thoughts in a line although
This will never bring him back.

His arm around my neck I start to smile
We’ll watch the clouds pass by just for a little while

Brother oh…… I’ll let you lead the way
Brother oh…. I’ll let you lead the way

First it seems to be a rainbow
Then he tells me it’s a cloud of gray
All the while the fog begins to grow so you will
Wander through the day

I know nothing’s gonna make up your mind now love
This is just a matter of fact
I try putting all my thoughts in a line although
This will never bring him back.

He holds me up against the wall til I can fly
Scenes of peaceful villages fade in & out of mind

Brother no… I’ll let you lead the way
Brother no… I’ll let you lead the way.

First he tells you its a no no
Then he tells me I must seize the day
All the while the clouds begin to grow
And they grow colder on the way

I know nothing’s gonna make up your mind now love.
This is just a matter of fact.
I try putting all my thoughts in a line although
This will never bring him back.


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

Step on the Train

If I sound out of breath its cause I am. But I had to get this recorded anyway. It is from a dream in which I was on a train & sometimes I worry if I let too much time pass I will lose the dream’s feeling.

Step on the train my friend
Down beneath your feet it rolls
Hands upon the window now
We watch the clouds begin to blow

See the sky fill up with wind
Press against us like a flag
Til the evening comes again
And then the clouds begin to drag

No one can know us now
We are unknown to ourselves
Flying forward here we go
And now the sky begin to melt

Nobody knows the way
Flying forward here we go
No one can help us now
Sing cause its the only thing we know

Watchin the sun rise now
And the sky he comes again
I tried to help you but I only
seemed to make the darkness bend

Through a tunnel now we’ll fly
Rest your eyes for just a while
Darkness push upon us push upon us
Let confusion lie

I didn’t know you then
You didn’t even know yourself
Flying forward through the dark
And now the tracks begin to melt

First we’ll reach the tunnels end
Then we’ll move into the light
Golden beams upon us
Sing cause it’s the only thing inside

Step on the train my friend
Press your face against the sky
Watch the blue forever flow
Watch the world begin to fly

Feel the dream begin again
Feel your eyes begin to close
Press your face against glass
Sing cause it’s the only thing we know.

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

Far (Video)

(Can you please just ignore the way my face looks in the frozen video screen? Youtube just selects a random moment from the video & it is hard to sing in a way where you never look weird. The hardest part of being a musician is how you are also supposed to be a professional engineer. And someone who likes to be on stage. And self promoter, etc etc etc)

Can you close your eyes we’re almost there?
I can feel the tendrils of his hair
Look I see the pole they said that we’d find
First you know we saw it in our mind.

Close your eyes and let him start to speak
First we fall down limply then go weak
Though we cannot move we see the star
And we know this man will take us FAR.

First we feel his hands caress our face
Lips that part too gently to erase
All the things that lay behind us now
Things that hurt us in the mind somehow.

Darkened hands that lifted up the lid
Of the heavy black box where we hid
Till those heavy hands became a star
And we knew this man would take us FAR.

Sister hold my hand it’s just the two of us to withstand what he gives.
Let your mind give way you know they say the one who dies will be the only one lives.

First his eyes seem black then they seem blue
First he watches me then watches you
As though we were dancing though we lie
Paralyzed and facing towards the sky.

Then we feel his hands begin to touch
Do we like it no or very much?
Either way we’re flying in his car
We have found the man who takes us FAR.

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

Hey Mister

Hey mister where you go? I was waiting too?
Laying all my things around for you.
Stars shining in the night if they only knew
Waiting like I said I’d wait for you.

And its hard to be that strong
When I was waiting there for you for so long.
And its hard to live that low
When I was waiting there for you to go.

Big man walks the night alone, I was walking too.
I was walking til I find the the line to you.
Yes he walked beside me then, for a while it’s true
Tell me comfort til I found the round to you.

Cause it’s hard to live that low
But there is nowhere in the dark where you can just go.
And its hard to hear that song
The one I sang inside my head to you for so long.

I prayed you’d walk before me
Mountains that fall before me
I never knew the way that things would change.

Take my hand before the star rise
Pull the cotton away from my eyes
I wait for you to come and bring the change.

Stars shining in the night I’ll be waiting too.
Waiting like I said I wait for you.
Soft breeze blow upon me now tremble in the dew
I just stood there like I said I’d stand for you.

And it’s hard we live so long
Always dreaming of a man whose so strong.
And its hard, the things we know
When there is no place in the world where you can just go.



Categories
Blue, Black, Silver, Water, Moons, Death & Ghosts Charleston, West Virginia Music & Songs Red, Soldiers, & Fire Videos

Bullets (Video)

I’ve been trying for a while to post something on here & written about 50 blog posts which I didn’t publish due to a desire for invisibility. I toggle between urges to be visible & invisible based on which seems the safest.

On the one hand, people knowing you exist makes you safe. It increases the odds that someone would notice if you went missing. Perhaps in extreme cases, someone would come to your aid. On the other hand, the more people know you exist the more enemies you have. And the more information they have about you, the more nooks & crannies for landing their little arrows. The wider you stretch out your personality, the larger the target becomes.

Still though, I consider it part of my destiny to try and trust in the soft mush of faceless unseen people & to believe that something good might emerge from that mush one day.

***

He points the gun at me
I say please don’t shoot
He says, ‘What makes you think I would do that to you?
After all that I’ve done that’s the way that you see me?
Then walk out that door cause you might as well leave me.’

Oh no…. my brain…..something cracking inside
Please I need to find darkness some place I can hide
Just climb under the bed, just lie there very still
I wish someone would find me but they never will.

Walking around it’s a daze in my mind now
The flowers are blooming, the sun is behind now
But inside it’s raining I can’t make it stop
And I bite on my tongue cause I need not to talk.

Oh no…. my head… something breaking inside
Now I need to find shelter some place I can hide
But behind every door there’s a man with a new gun
There’s no where to go if I had the strength to run.

Clouds in the sky I don’t think I can join you
So fluffy and free all the bullet pass through you
You’ve nothing to fear and you rain when you want to
I wish you saw me I need someone to talk to.

Oh no… my heart… something breaking inside
Can you hold it together until we can hide?
Just climb under the bed just lie there very still
I wish someone would find us but they never will.

Categories
Charleston, West Virginia men My Life Story Writings

Falling in Love with Spiritual

I am not sure if this post is sexual and hence inappropriate or not sexual at all. It isn’t sexual to me. If it is sexual to you, then apologies. But there are things I am feeling compelled to talk. They are like giant bubbles rising up from my stomach and forcing their way out of my mouth. I may need to write a number of somewhat personal blog posts to get to the bottom of why I can’t stop talking about dicks. I don’t know where to begin, so I will just vomit up one little bubble about my life.

This is the story of how I fell in love with husband #1. Some of this has been shared before. So apologies for any repetition.

We will refer to this husband as Spiritual, because that was his name for part of the time I knew him. He goes by a different name now & this post is not intended to impact his reputation.

Spiritual was driving me to Michigan to attend a spiritual retreat. Spiritual was my spiritual guide, not my boyfriend. The eastern philosophies I was absorbing had taught me that obedience to a guru was the surest way to achieve enlightenment. God had contacted Spiritual and told him to be my guru. This seemed like a miracle, an answered prayer, since I had been praying for somebody to guide me.

Spiritual had made it clear that attending this retreat would be the key to getting rid of the ego. I had no idea what to expect. Getting in the car with a odd smelling male and going on an unknown retreat was not my cup of tea, but I had already accepted that the process of becoming enlightened was gonna suck. I was majoring in Tibetan buddhism & most of the stories of enlightenment involved eating shit, murdering people & doing all sorts of distasteful things. Crazy wisdom, they called it. But it was just the ego that found these things distasteful. Once you reached enlightenment, it was all worth it.

So we were speeding 80 mph down the highway in his van, when suddenly Spiritual said “There’s something we need to talk about…. THIS” and firmly grabbed my crotch, leaving his hand there. I froze. I tried to remember that it was just molecules touching molecules. It had no meaning. This is something I would tell myself when things were gross.

Then he pulled the car over to a rest stop. He said to get out of the car and stood there and said I needed to kiss him. I couldn’t do it. It’s like when you are trying to get yourself to eat a slug and you can’t. We stood there for the longest time. Finally he started screaming at me and I pecked him on the lips. We got back in the van.

We drove to his parents house. This was a shock to me, since I thought we were attending a spiritual retreat center. He introduced me as his girlfriend. I was confused. I thought he was my spiritual leader. I didn’t say anything. Then he went up to his parents room and lay on the floor naked. He said I needed to touch his whole body admiringly because he hadn’t been appreciated enough in his life. I did it.

Next, he said we needed to get married. Because he was Catholic and I had touched his naked body. (Catholicism had not come up before.) This idea repulsed me. I was still a teen and had no desire to be married, especially to him. So I agreed and started wearing his mother’s engagement ring.

As soon as we were engaged things changed instantaneously. He started yelling at me constantly. Making humiliating scenes every time we were out in public. He had yelled at me before (he called it giving me an ‘ego bat’), but now it was unrelenting. It never stopped. But still I fell in love with him. A cascade of molecules caused me to feel high when I touched his hand. I became very attached to him. Inseparable. It got to where I literally could not think a single thought without running it through him to see if it was true or false.

Technically him grabbing my crotch on the way to the spiritual retreat was not the first time we’d had physical contact.

After he became my spiritual guide, Spiritual told me that God had presented him with two choices. I must choose one or the other to stay on the path of enlightenment. Either ask my best male friend to “go down on me” or if I wouldn’t do that then Spiritual would need to perform the procedure.

This was far outside of my experiences and the thought of having to ask a male friend to do it would have been worse than eating a live heart. I would rather have killed myself. So I agreed that he would do it. On the appointed date he took me to a hotel room. I will spare you the details. But don’t worry- this is not an erotic story and it was not an erotic experience. I just lay there with most of my clothes on. I had had surgery on that part of my body as a kid and also many medical procedures. They hurt, but afterwards I got oatmeal cookies. This wasn’t too different. He stuck various things in me. I don’t remember what they all were. One was a blow pop. When I was a kid I would always get to choose a lollipop before the most painful procedures making them bittersweet.

He said he “came twice.” This didn’t have a precise meaning to me. He said it might be useful to touch other body parts. I said okay. That didn’t mean anything to me. I was just a bunch of molecules lying on a table on their way to achieving enlightenment. Afterwards I felt kind of relieved like how you feel when you are leaving the dentist office and are patting yourself on the back for being responsible. Poor Julien. What a doofus.

And not even that experience was unprecedented. It is just that I had this way of completely tuning out anything remotely sexual to the extent that it didn’t exist in my mind. I have told people before that I’ve never been hit on once in my life, but maybe it only seemed that way because my mind just wouldn’t process the sexual implications of any encounter regardless of how blatant they were.

Once for example, this guy kept putting my hand on his dick and I kept moving it off his dick. This didn’t register as sexual to me (despite being an adult), it just seemed like nonsensical behavior, as though someone was trying to touch my elbow with his nose. I didn’t want to touch the gross slimy slug but I didn’t see the male as sexually motivated.

So anyway, before I became his girlfriend or even his disciple, Spiritual insisted I hug him every time I saw him (which was not desired since he reeked of b.o.) and then he would sing this song, “You always give me a boner.” Then he would explain how he got a boner each time he hugged me. Obviously this should have been a warning sign as to what would happen if you got in a van with this guy. But I had changed a lot of diapers as a kid and babies sometimes had boners. So I just saw it in that light, not a sexual one.

And he would sometimes ask if I could remove undergarments so he could study their fabric due to his interest in fabrics. Luckily, I didn’t do that. If he had said it was necessary for spiritual reasons, I would have, but I didn’t want to do something icky just to increase his knowledge of textiles. He would also say weird things about how my br–sts seemed to be attached to my chest. I just filed this under molecules talking about molecules. Things that had no rhyme or reason. So many things in life, so many things people did, just seemed nonsensical to me. They had no explanation. Molecules talking about molecules.

And it worked both ways- I would frequently say and even act out sexually explicit things, like writing songs about rape that (in my mind) were songs about colors or turning in a giant picture of a dick for my final art project which in my mind was a picture of a tree. But this is a subject for another post.

Categories
Astrology Charleston, West Virginia men Writings

First, An Apology to Men

Recently I have been writing a ton of blog posts but not publishing them. I have a lot to say but feel hung up about saying it.

In some cases, the things I want to share fall somewhat into the #metoo category. Although the excesses of #metoo (Believe Women. Believe the Victim.) are frightening, it is also hard to overstate the value of sharing true stories of victimization. There is simply no other way these processes can be understood and prevented.

We know this when it comes to wars and large scale atrocities. Those who do not learn history are doomed to repeat it. But the principle applies equally to the issue of predatory behavior in relationships, which- while less dramatic- causes just as much carnage in totality.

In astrology, the sun rules the government and husbands, while the populace and wives are ruled by the moon. With apologies to men, it seems accurate to say that governments and husbands are more likely to abuse power than the reverse. The people & wives have to be aware of this possibility to ensure safety. They need knowledge of what can happen, a clear sense of rights & boundaries so they can tell when these are being violated, and some form of power so they will have the possibility of fighting back if it comes to that.

Of course, the government also has to fear the population rising up against it. Likewise, women sometimes kill their husbands. But this most commonly happens as a response to tyranny (in the case of the government) and physical abuse (in the case of the husband). Conversely, men- who kill their wives far more frequently- generally do so in response to the woman trying to leave.

I know many men object to abuse being made into a gender issue and I understand the reasons for this. The fact is, some women are inclined to use false claims of victimization as a tool. I have known them. But the only reason this works is because it is believable. It is believable when you accuse a gorilla of tearing a sink out of the wall with its bare hands, less so for a cat. This is one of the risks of power. But pretending to not have power so that you can’t be falsely accused of abusing it is not the solution.

Lies breed lies and truth breeds truth. One facet of that truth is that women are more vulnerable in relationships. Men have more force and hardness built into the structure of their beings. They are less permeable. Marriage is like throwing a chunk of quartz and a chunk of calcite into the same pocket. If these differences are not accounted for, it is easy to predict which stone will get fucked.



P.S. I realize that when a person’s mind is far from root level concerns and focused on things like movies and restaurants, the power differential between genders and government overreach can both seem like the far-fetched concerns of the paranoid. Sure men CAN overpower women, but so what? We live in a post-physical power reality, right? Sure, governments HAVE killed their citizens, but like wasn’t that in the past?

A decade ago, my perspective on these issues was very different. I thought women could just as easily abuse men and there was no legitimate reason people needed guns. When you are focused on trying out new falafel recipes, it is easy to pretend these red levels of power don’t exist. But once you are forced to confront them, you see how these lower frequencies of life have actually been influencing your choices all along.

Categories
Blue, Black, Silver, Water, Moons, Death & Ghosts Charleston, West Virginia Music & Songs Sky Blue, Ether, Flags, and Fairies

Far

Can you close your eyes we’re almost there?
I can feel the tendrils of his hair
Look I see the pole they said we’d find
First you know we saw it in our mind.

Close your eyes and let him start to speak
First we fall down limply then go weak
Though we cannot move we see the star
And we know this man will take us FAR.

First we feel his hands caress our face
Lips that part too gently to erase
All the things that lay behind us now
Things that hurt us in the mind somehow.

Darkened hands that lifted up the lid
Of the heavy black box where we hid
Till those heavy hands became a star
And we knew this man would take us FAR.

Sister hold my hand it’s just the two of us
To withstand what he gives.
Let your mind give way you know they say the one who dies
Will be the only one lives.

First his eyes seem black then they seem blue
First he watches me then watches you
As though we were dancing though we lie
Paralyzed and facing towards the sky.

Then we feel his hands begin to touch
Do we like it no or very much?
Either way we’re flying in his car
We have found the man who takes us FAR.

Categories
Charleston, West Virginia Music & Songs Red, Soldiers, & Fire

No More Tears

Try, try open your eyes, but its my head- no… where am I ?
days, months, seconds, years, I told myself no more tears.

I always use the words that drive him away
sometimes I don’t know what I mean to say I
try to clear my head, slipping like sand…
I can’t lose one more man.

First you’ll go cold and then you’ll open the door
but could you stay and please don’t leave?
You run around and still I’m chasing you down
as though there’s something that I need.

I know I drove you away I turned you cold
cause I was talking all of the time.
Trying to hold too many things in my head
to make me seem right inside the mind.

Try, try, I won’t cry, just look into the air and you will
find something inside your mind to distract you from what you feel.

I know that I was wrong chasing him round
that’s why his shoulders turn away from me now.
Try to search my mind to find a way
but words and words are all I say

hello blanket over me, pull me down I can’t breath
hello room, hello pink, pull me down I can’t think

First he’ll go cold and then he’ll open the door
because he hates me on my knees.
I’ll grab his arm again oh please understand
sometimes I don’t know what I mean!

I’ll grab his arm again oh please understand
I think its broken in my mind!
But he goes crazy on me when I beg and then
I’m not supposed to cry.

Try, try open your eyes, but its my head- no… where am I ?
Days, months, seconds, years, I told myself no more tears.

Categories
Charleston, West Virginia Purple, Magic & Sorcerers Writings

Where is my Venus?

(Warning. This post may contain gross words.)

I am a female. I am an artiste. Why can’t I can’t relate to Venus, beautiful goddess of women and the arts? Ruler of money, comforts and social graces? Why can I only relate to Aries, god of blood and gore? Why do I turn to him when I have problems? I started wondering about this today and then vomited out the following words. I don’t know if they will shed light on the issue or not.

*

Growing up I wanted to be a boy. Or at least a tomboy. Not because I liked boy things. I didn’t. But I wanted to like boy things. I felt incredibly guilty for not reading the sports page, watching sports games or learning sports statistics. My ultimate dream was to be seen by others as someone who was obsessed with sports. My ultimate ultimate dream was to be the first female professional football player.

I wanted to be a great athlete, but was held back by my dislike for sports. They were smelly, dull, tiring, abrasive, and lacking in color.

Still, the world I grew up in was 90% sports, so even if you disliked them you were playing them anyways. Swimming, t-ball, tennis, gymnastics and ballet when you’re little and later volleyball, basketball, tennis and track. In half of these sports, being tall made up for the fact that I was spaced out and apathetic.

It wasn’t enough to just play sports though. Unless you wanted to be an absolute loser in life you needed to force yourself to do sporty things in between playing sports. Time between sports could be filled with competitive ping pong games, shooting pool, practicing freethrows or going for a bike ride. If there was a time lapse between swim practice and tennis practice, you should arrange to hit balls with a friend. Failing that hit balls against a wall or practice your serve. But do not sit there munching a grilled cheese like a lazy piece of shit.

I knew some people from public schools who would sometimes play sports in a silly way, like hitting ping pong balls against the wall and giggling. This shocked me. My husband grew up in a religion where pure thoughts & sexuality were moralized. In my world, sports were moralized. Sports and exertion. If you chose to relax when you could be playing sports, exercising or doing something strenuous, then you were a bad person. A lazy piece of shit, to be exact.

Also on my shoulders was the weight of needing to save the female species from disgrace. They were a disgrace because they were bad at sports. The superiority of men at sports was a favorite dinner conversation. My dad liked to discuss how one day my younger brothers would surpass me in sports and this filled me with dread and humiliation. I had to stop this from happening. I had to prove that females can do everything a man can do. And so from the beginning, I was at war with nature.

But the possibility of being a worthless piece of shit was not the worst part. On its own, I could have dealt with being a loser. The real problem was that if I did not become a professional football player I would have to become a regular woman. I knew I didn’t want this. Based on everything I heard they were absolutely disgusting. They used only one thing to get through life and that was “sexual wiles.” Whatever they appeared to have achieved it was those wiles that had done it. I didn’t know exactly what wiles were, but I knew they sounded gross like smooshing your body against someone else’s while wearing a silk blouse bulging with boobs.

And since I had three brothers and no sisters, I was the only one who would have to grow up and use sexual wiles. It made me feel humiliated. They would just get to grow up and be normal people. Beating me at sports until eventually my wiles took over. This sucked.


***

Fast forward to when I’m 18 and decide to legally change my first and last name. Of course I chose a man’s name. To me, a man’s name meant I would be the person I was within, not someone who played a role to please others. Males were subjects. Females objects. A man’s value came from his accomplishments. A female’s value came from what men thought of her. Unless she could beat them in sports. But I couldn’t. By this time I was just a series of injuries and could barely walk without pain. Dreams of becoming an athlete were over. Sort of.

Now I’m 19. My first boyfriend/spiritual guru/husband and Jesus have agreed. I should be a stripper. The reasoning has something to with achieving enlightenment. I agree I should do this. Why? Because it is my greatest nightmare. You must do the thing you fear. Or as my dad liked to say “That which does not kill you makes you stronger.” If you do what feels good to you, the ego wins. If you torture yourself, the ego starts to die. Then you will finally become free to fly past the Eagle in the sky and live forever. That is literally how I thought of it.

Some people see stripping as a feminine expression. Dumbasses. It is the most manly thing in the universe. No one with a feminine side goes near those places. I can only compare it to a man working up the courage to stab himself in a nut.

It is about as sexual as a man pulling down his pants to be examined by a doctor who happens to be his uncle. But I was honor bound to do it because it combined all the things I dreaded most- being on stage, dancing, acting ‘sexy’ and worst worst worst of all- not wearing clothes. I can’t really convey in words the extent to which I did not want to be without clothing. Would you like to be naked and carved up in the middle of a Thanksgiving feast? Would you like to be hog tied with your head buried in mud and your bare ass pointing towards the sky as friends walk by pointing and laughing at you? Cause that is how it felt. Disgusting but also like a horror movie. “Guts” was my name. But the disgust and the horror were why I had to do it. Only the ego has those feelings. Unless you kill the ego you will never fly past the Eagle.

This is also the time I decided to become a Professional Body Builder. This was probably a way of trying to turn my body into a suit of armor since I really didn’t want to be naked. I was not looking to become toned. I wanted to become absofreaking ginormous like those men in magazines with veins popping out of their forehead. I wanted to be a three hundred pound monster. I was convinced that if I ate enough canned chicken and spent all day at the gym, I would become just like those men. I didn’t realize this was as unlikely as becoming a professional football player. In the summer I spent all my time pumping iron and packing down protein. When I got back to school the teacher had me stand up for the class as an example of a body type that would never be able to gain muscle mass. I was confused because in my mind I already resembled those giant men.

But that one statement popped my dream. And if I couldn’t be a successful professional male body builder then I wasn’t going to be a stripper either. The two things went together.

***

Always people were breathing down on me, sculpting me. My psychology was built around finding ways to fend others off while also seeking them out for protection. But every new protector would become the one I needed protection from. Normal, healthy people probably steered clear of me, I was so weird. Or maybe I steered clear of them. To this day, I feel very uncomfortable around nice people. When people tell me I am the dumbest person they have ever met, I feel safe, like Briar Rabbit in his briar patch. When people gang up on me I feel at home. Nobody in my family liked me. I was surrounded by invisible cooties and you could see the disgust in their faces.

***


I don’t trust men who try to pretend like men and women are the same. My first husband was like this. He would wear women’s clothing and mascara. He would decorate my room with pictures of women carrying guns and knives. And naked women making weird expressions. To me they looked like men in those unnatural poses, their faces scrunched up as though (trigger warning) they were trying to take a crap. But to the males that came around they were hot and sexy women. I never knew what they were seeing.

Husband would wear my shirts and perfume. He would buy me knives whose handles were carved into skulls. He bought me swords. He gave me a stolen gun and told me to keep it in my backpack as a symbol of female empowerment. He called the cops and told them I was planning to murder someone. A man who had recently crushed my skull but whom I had no plans to murder. It is hard to explain the full extent to which murdering people was not on my mind. It really hit me from left field. The cops took me to get psychiatric evaluation. They looked at my dorm room, the walls covered in collages and posters hung there by my husband. Violence, nudity. The big black pirate flag he had hung in my window. I had thought it was funny and weird the way teenagers think it is funny to turn a sign upside down. It was better than naked women. But when you are a potential murderer these things take on a different glow. The collection of knives on my desk. It made me feel special when he bought these for me. He wanted me to be safe and powerful. At any rate, I hadn’t had much say in the way my room was decorated. Each new piece of decor was hung while I was out and then presented to me as a surprise, a gift filled with complex existential meanings which would be laboriously laid out. Usually something along the line of female empowerment or getting past the Eagle.

Aesthetically I didn’t care for his decorations but it never occurred to me to view them through the eyes of police men. Although this wasn’t the first time police had shown up in my dorm room. Once they came because there was a gigantic naked man handcuffed to the stairwell outside my door. My name was written over his naked body, presumably by my husband. He was rattling his chains and wailing my name. I don’t know why. My roommate and I were pretty scared because this was the middle of the night and we had been sleeping. But it had become normal for my husband to do weird things in the middle of the night, like pulling the fire alarm, sometimes repeatedly forcing everyone in the dorm to evacuate. It was so loud & startling & cold & then the nightmare of having to get out of bed in a panic and be around boys without real clothes or makeup on. But he said I needed to learn to go without sleep to get past the eagle.

So when a naked guy was chained to my room wailing my name it was not totally out of the ordinary. I was usually in a state of semi-horror. The cops came and I was hid from them because I didn’t want them to see me in my nightgown with no makeup. I couldn’t look at them and I didn’t know what to say. I didn’t know why he was chained there and why my name was written on his body.

My husband would wear my clothes and give me his. Sheer mesh shirts from International Male that reeked of permanent b.o. He made fun of my clothes, saying I dressed like a gigantic baby. He bought me new ones. He said he needed me to be a classy elegant lady. This had something to do with existentialism and Apollo vs Dionysus. There were always very complicated explanations for things. Classy, elegant ladies wore cutaway tops. Cutaway tops were shirts which covered up one’s entire torso except for the breasts which were left bare and exposed. I said I had never seen a cutaway top and it made no sense that elegant ladies would wear these. But that is when he would start screaming. Really really loud, just like the fire alarm. I guess his pattern was to make a false or absurd statement and then start screaming until I accepted it. He especially liked to scream in public. It seemed as though the more he screamed at me in public the more our friends would come up with psychological theories as to why he was actually a good guy, just someone with problems. Which caused an ever increasing flow of kindness and generosity in his direction.

He liked to humiliate me in public. Screaming at me until I would take off clothes or dance. Taking off his clothes in a fancy restaurant. Telling me I had to say sexual things to people, including family members, or saying sexual things himself. Giving people inappropriate gifts that were supposedly from me or threatening teachers in my name. I became accustomed to living in a state of permanent humiliation. I was horrified to be associated with myself and the dark, perverted, murderous freak I was supposed to be. But this made me cling to him even tighter. He was the only one who could love me.

People say it is your fault if you are in a bad relationship because you didn’t leave. I don’t care. I don’t know what fault means anyway. There were reasons I was with him. For starters, even before him I was very confused. I remember running around outside at night screaming “Help!! I can’t see!!!” I felt there were things in my mind I couldn’t get to. I was confused as to what was real and what wasn’t. I was always looking for people who could help me make sense of things. Nothing ever made sense in my world. My parents would say things that didn’t make any sense either. They would project strange things onto me.

Even moreso I was with him due to fear. I was terrified of my parents. I still am. I preferred being escorted by cops as a potential murderer to being alone with them. And for all his faults, my husband had the virtues of being insanely brave and bold. He wasn’t afraid of anything. He would bite the head right off of a live snake knowing it was poisonous. It was insane.

I suppose my core flaw was not being an independent person. That is my core flaw to this day. Everyone is expected to be an independent person ready to handle life completely on their own at a moment’s notice. But it is hard to be independent when you can’t trust your mind to know what is real and what isn’t. The terror, the confusion & the dependence became this Bermuda triangle, each point playing off the others so there wasn’t any clear way to escape it. He was the only person willing to step into that mess.

Nothing has really changed. I am still confused, still terrified and still dependent. But I try to be a productive person to make up for my flaws. I don’t want to be a net drain on the world.