Secrets

A shadow came. He was tracking something, and came across footprints that led into an active volcano. Following them carefully down the inside of the volcano, he was never noticed, never burned. He found a pile of huge rocks. He studied them for awhile, realized one push of a soft spot would make them all come crashing down. He was being noticed now, and he had to hurry before he was overcome by the hot lava. The journey into the volcano and the riddle of the rocks had educated him enough that it only took three tries to open the vault under the rocks. He rushed in, closed the door. Everything was pitch black; another defense mechanism. He found a small lock box. The key had to be hidden around here. He searched and searched. Meanwhile he could hear the lava surrounding the vault and drowning it in hot liquid fire. It began to be hot and he fell to his knees and cried. He was never going to open the lock box and bring back his love what she needed most. His tears fell onto the box and ran into the lock. He heard a click as his tears unlocked the box. He slowly lifted the lid. Everything cooled. The lock box, the vault, the huge rocks and the volcano all disappeared. He was standing in the middle of a clearing with a map. A giant red X was upon a picture of a heart. He never let go of that map, and he protected it until it died.

Moon Clock

I had been given a gift a long time ago, and I was just now opening it. It was a clock, with the different phases of the moon on it instead of numbers. Not twelve moons though, no, there were many more. You could spin it like a top and see the moon wane and wax like a film cuz there were so many. I had never opened it.

I was 18, moved into my new apartment with my husband and I was unhappy. Arranged marriages were never the best. I was reminiscing with my box of old things that I had been forced to keep in the attic because he, Trace, thought they were childish. I pulled the weird clock out of its box and set it to the full moon, and that’s when I saw a place to set the clock to a four-digit number. I assumed it was for the year. I set it to 1999. That was my last year of freedom before I was married off to this man.

I was pulled back to memories of when I was 8, and my sister and I were running around chasing frogs with our brother and swimming in backyards. That’s when my parents walked up to me with him. “Dear daughter, you are going to marry this boy. His name is Trace.” They were so happy. I looked at the boy and wanted to cry. He was dirty, overweight, and wore glasses and braces. I was pretty, and I knew it. Four years later I was stronger, and when he realized I was his and he could do anything he wanted to me and wouldn’t get in trouble, he came onto me. Groping, stripping, kissing. I knew I shouldn’t fight back. I saw a vision of me letting him rape me, and I knew I had to fight back. I punched him in the nose and ran away. I was whipped later for it. He tried four more times and each time I hurt him badly. Kicked him, scratched him, punched him, and finally stabbed him. He died. My parents sentenced me to death for killing my fiancée.

My last night to be alive, I found a gift I had been given a long time ago, and I was just now opening it. It was a clock, with the different phases of the moon on it instead of numbers. Not twelve moons though, no, there were many more. You could spin it like a top and see the moon wane and wax like a film cuz there were so many. I was 12, sentenced to death for killing my fiancée, and I was never going to live again.

I pulled the moon clock out of its box and set it to the half moon, and that’s when I saw a place to set the clock to a four-digit number. I assumed it was for the year. I set it to 1999, the year I met my now-dead fiancée. I was pulled back to memories of when I was 8, and my sister and I were eating peanut butter and jelly sandwiches with our brother on a colorful play table in our front yard. My parents came up to us and told us they had decided we were moving away. Moving to Australia. So, we moved, unable to stay in America like we wanted to. We were raised there, and once I was in college I met a man. He was from America, the very city I was born. He introduced himself as Trace and I knew he was the one for me. We were married in Italy and I moved back to America with him.

I was going through my childhood possessions during the move, and I found a gift I had been given a long time ago, and I was just now opening it. It was a clock, with the different phases of the moon on it instead of numbers. Not twelve moons though, no, there were many more. You could spin it like a top and see the moon wane and wax like a film cuz there were so many. I was 23, married to the love of my life and never to be in anguish again because I had the arms of my man to go to. Why mess with history? I threw it in the trash.

The so-called mental illness

Everybody has a mental 'illness' that needs to be 'fixed.' Medication, Psychologists, anyway possible. What people like doctors and Capricorns (not naming names here) don't understand is that people survived when we didn't call these illnesses. They were a part of life and that's how people are mentally comfortable with themselves. They can cope with it and be happy. Just because you aren't mentally perfect doesn't mean you can't be happy!

"The one" for you?

Everybody asks if there really is that one special person for you. I don't believe there is just ONE person in the world for just ONE other person. Yes, everyone's individual and most people will find one to live their lives with happily. But the other person is never perfect. They're close in your eyes, but not perfect. There will always be someone out there that could be exactly like the person you love but he/she may not have that one pet peeve that your love may have. But you know what's more special about the person you love? You love them. Love cancels out everything that may not be perfect in the person you love. Nobody can ever know if someone is the one for them until after life. Even if, at the beginning of the relationship, you think and trust with your whole heart that they are the one, you will never know for sure until after they've been through everything together and stuck to their beliefs and each other.

Diary of the President

This letter was written in response to “Dear Mr President” written by the musical group Pink.

Dear Pink

You wanted me to take a walk with you, to ‘pretend we’re just two people and you’re no better than me.’ But when you talked to me, you treated me abnormal. You asked what I felt when I saw all the homeless on the streets. I must say, I feel the same way most people, most likely including you, do. I feel bad for them and resolve to attempt to do something about it, then get distracted and don’t worry about it until the subject comes up again. You asked me who I pray for at night, and my answer is me. I pray that I have the courage to keep our country going, through good and bad. You asked if I was proud when I looked in the mirror. I am proud of myself, yes. And I’m proud to be proud of myself. One needs to have pride to continue doing what they are capable of. I’m not so prideful I become corrupt.  I am proud to be leading such an awesome country. You ask why I sleep when the rest of you cry, why I dream when a mother has no chance to say goodbye, how I can walk with my head held high. I can look you in the eye and ask you the exact same thing. Unless you are in that position, you do not have the right to judge me. Those who are in the position and act reasonable in spite of the situation are those who realize this has happened from the beginning of the earth and it will continue to the end of the earth. It’s part of the balance of nature.

            The only reason I would take my own daughter’s rights away is if I thought it was necessary for protection of her. And believe me; my child is in danger on a daily basis. A father would never truly hate his own daughter simply because she was gay. He would be disappointed and hurt, shunning her out but I know as much as any father that even though I want my daughter to be happy, being gay will not make her happy in the end. As for working at minimum wage with a baby, and rebuilding your house after it was destroyed, where do you think I started? I wasn’t rich my whole life, I had to start somewhere as does everyone. Sure, as a guy there’s no way I was pregnant and working but I had other things too. I had to pay for college to work my way to the place I’m at now. I worked my ass off to get where I am. Now my goal is to help the rest of the people in my country the best I can. But I can't give anyone motivation. Some things can't be helped unless its a group effort. 

               Mr. President.

Grey

    I was hopping along the table in my new home, just exploring the world I was in. I was on the lookout for danger. I looked for the sunny spots, the best views, and for hiding places. Us crayons would win the olympics if hiding was a sport. For weeks I explored, staying away from my perky cousins. When nothing bothered us for a long time, even though people came and went often enough in our little world, we returned to our box.
        I was so disappointed. I knew what I was made for, and I wanted to throw my whole self into it. A masterpiece is what I wanted to be. But, even if a child was to finally come to us, why would they choose me? A rusty old gray is a color no kid wants.
    One day, a child was moved into our room. He was a small boy with no legs. He wheeled over to our table and dumped us out. He pulled out a piece of paper from the pack that was on the back of his wheelchair and laid it out carefully on the table. The queer young boy then closed his eyes and waved his hand over us. His hand came down on me.
    Ecstatic, I do my best to creat a good looking picture for him. After three hours of the boy locking himself up in our world, I had a whole new perspective. Instead of looking up from my table home, I now look out above everything from the high wall. I no longer am a crayon, dull and gray. I am now a knight in shining armor. I'm a majestic castle with brilliant detail. I'm the color of the weapons hung to protect against anything.
                Life has been given to me through the little boy with no legs.

Dreams

Judging by the amount of mental and physical stress that you receive each day is the amount of sleep one should get in a night. When you sleep, you dream. Most the time you don't remember your dreams, but your subconcious does and that's all that really matters. When you dream your emotions are balanced out from what you have in waking. The astral planes (dream world) are there to give you emotions you don't have in waking, to balance you out and keep you going. Which is why dreaming either sucks or is awesome. But its a necessity and it helps calm the spirit during stressful days. Of course, that's not the only purpose of dreaming, it's just the main ones for those who aren't open minded enough to see what else the astral planes have for one.

Belief

People try to give others advice, but the best advice one can give to another is to try it. When a person experiences something for themself, it sticks more. They remember their own experiences. Not only that, but we trust ourselves more than we trust anyone else.

Never Give Up

Everybody says anybody can do anything they want as long as they just try and never give up. That's not true. Not everything is possible for anyone. People who think this way don't realize that we are not the only persons in control of our lives. There is Always someone playing a part in our accomplishments one way or another; and that can easily disable us.

True Self

How do we know who we truly are? I think it's when you are completely content with yourself. You like what you do, you like how you do it, and you like the results of your actions. Most people are content with themselves, they just are unhappy with their surroundings. They want more and more stuff and when they get more, they change. And when they receive that change, they hate it so they try to fix it by wanting more stuff. Well, it's not the stuff that's the problem, it's that the stuff changed them, and they need to not let that happen. They need to be themselves. It's hard, but being ourselves is the only way to live happily.

Song: Stuff Mart- Veggie Tales

Desire

Desire is the longing for something. We go through life, and that desire never goes away. We always want more than what we have. The idea of satisfaction was driven away with the beginning of religion, the start of technology and the demolishing of true virtues. Religion teaches there are wrong things in the world. That either makes us want to change ourselves or change the world. Sometimes both. We desire that everything be right with the world. Technology makes people lazy, and with that comes the desire to be lazier with no consequences. True virtues and chivalry are no longer in play in the world. Feminism has played a major part in that. Feminists have enabled women to have a say in their world, to get up and do more than they have been allowed to. But why can't that happen without losing the respect men have always had for women? So the desire was to have women world and now the desire is to have the same respect as before.

Magic

What's your definition of magic? Mine is manipulation. Quick change artists, children's magicians, ventriloquists, pagan witchery, spies, and liars all perform magic. The magic accepted by society is those that perform on stage. Those who prefer to be less social perform magic in their homes and in secrecy. Society has been taught that magic, as in witchcraft, is evil. The people who taught them that knows it's not evil; they're jealous or scared or want revenge. People are scared of unknown things, yet they choose the silliest things to put their trust in. Nobody likes or trusts pagans although their ways have been proved safe and correct throughout the years. Cars kill people and pollute the air. Yet most people would choose a car over pagan teachings.

Coincidence

Do you believe there is no such thing as coincidence? That there is greater forces, gods, karma, etc, that causes every little thing to happen? I don't. There is no force out there big enough or capable enough to cause everything we call coincidence. Gods can't mess with a person's life unless the person accepts and believes they're real. This is why it seems that the Christian god only bothers to work with selected people. He can't handle it all. The pagan gods have such fewer followers that they can handle most or all their followers. But yes. Coincidence is real and it happens all the time.

Change in yourself

A lot of people ask each other, "What would you change about me?" and "What would you change about yourself?" Our life experiences make us the porcelain dolls we need to be at certain times, and the broken house that really needs a remodeling at other times. So who would want to change anything? There's always a balance of good and bad in every person and right now you know your flaws and how to cope with them. If I change something I have to learn to deal with new flaws. People will never live happily if they can't be grateful for what they have.

Death

I believe there are 3 ways a person dies.
1. Murder
2. When they figure out what life's about.
3. When they mentally can't handle it anymore.

1. Murder: Karma generally. You do something stupid, you die. Simple enough. Or when you're times about up and someone else needs to be punished.
2. When a person figures out what life's about, there's no reason for them to continue living, so they die. Accidents, heart attacks, heat strokes, etc...
3. Your mind can only handle so much, and when your mind hits the limit, times up. Which is a lot of the reason we don't remember our past lives. Unless we died prematurely by being murdered. Then we can remember some of our pasts. Suicide fits under this category as well. People kill themselves when they mentally can't handle it.

Men love vs. Women love

"Women simply cannot love as deeply as men." -William Shakespeare. Twelfth Night.
I believe this! My theory, and yes, there's sooo many arguments to this, is that women have a harder time overlooking mistakes and blemishes in a guys personality and features. Men are the ones who have to work hard for women, because women have always been the respected ones. Women are more fragile, they are weaker, and they get hurt easier. Thus our human instincts say, 'o, the guys have to be the losers and ask the girls out' yay! So guys can appreciate what they get more than the women can.

Jesus Christ: One and only god?

Christians, Mormons, Catholics, and all those other people who believe in one god are very close minded. Want to hear MY theory about this Jesus Christ? 'Course you do :) thanks for the enthusiasm.
Okay, I do believe Jesus is a god! Wow huh?! Not the only god though. Jesus is the Jewish god of jealousy who always wanted more. He came to the earth to make everyone believe he was the only god and thus, he would get the worship! Well, the other gods let him go to earth and mess around in his doll figure he possessed. He produced miracles,and the people began to seriously believe him. But, when the gods began to see what Jealous Jesus was up to, No way were they going to let him get away with it. The fates put doubt in the minds of some and they murdered Jesus's doll. Jesus felt betrayed by Zeus, his father, who stood by and did nothing as his offspring tortured and shattered all the plans of his. Several kind-hearted vampires who had begun to believe Jesus saw the blood the doll bled. They then began to accept themselves and what blood did for them. They used the analogy, blood cleanses, for when they drank the blood, they became human again and the monster in them died for awhile. However, over time, vampires were betrayed by Christians, hunted and killed. That was when they turned from Jesus and seeked the truth. Jesus gave up his earth mission, but the affect was astounding. A new, popular religion was established, and everyone desperate for a god's love followed religiously.

Soulmates

Some people believe you have only one soulmate and that one day you will marry that person, have kids and live happily ever after. Some people believe you have one guy soulmate, and one girl soulmate. But still others believe your best friend or siblings can be your soulmate. THe latter is what I personally believe.
Soul mates are created from souls splitting at death. When a person has a hard life, usually a lot of death involved, and they die from betrayal. Those souls, if no one is there waiting to catch them, splits into two. Stereotypically one good and one evil. In most cases the split souls are reincarnated as twins, but in others they are placed with similar childhoods. The "evil" half has the worse of the two childhoods. The "good" half has life hardly any easier than the other. Through life without the other half, the soul can create either a mask or a dummy. The mask mellows the evil and corrupts the good to the point of equality and possible wholeness for the half. A dummy is another person the half creates to replace it's other half.

Angel of suicide

-Good bones and Simple murders

I know what the angel of suicide looks like. I have seen her several times. Sh'es around.
She's nothing like the pictures of angels you run across here and there, the ones in classical paintings, with their curls and beautiful eyelashes, or the ones on Christmas cards all cute or white.

Not so the angel of suicide, who is dense, heavy with antimatter, a dark star. But despite the differences, she does have something in common with those others. All angels are messengers, and so is she; which isn't to say that all messages are good.

Angels come in two kinds: the others, and those who fell. The angel of suicide is one of those who fell, down through the atmosphere to the earth's surface. Or did she jump?...With her you have to ask.

They said, the pack of them, I will not serve. The angel of suicide is one of those: a rebellious waitress. Rebellion, that's what she has to offer to you when you see her beckoning to you from outside the window, fifty stories up, or the edge of the bridge, or holding something out to you, some emblem of release, soft chemical, quick metal.

Wings, of course. You wouldn't believe a thing she said if it weren't for the wings