Magneto Was Right....

"Focus....is found somewhere between rage & serenity..." (Charles Xavier)

For anyone that is not already aware....I'm a "geek"...through & through--right down to the old bones. I've sequestered myself into Hermitude these past few days, as I've been feeling under the weather. Today while I was housebound--I watched "X-Men: First Class", which I very much enjoyed. They did change some things...but I'm not going to fly into geeky outrage about any of it. That's not what I wanna talk about today. I'd rather talk about Magneto.

They got Magneto RIGHT.

& now I'm overthinking things...as is my nature.

Magneto has long been one of my very favorite comic book characters EVER. Common consensus would be that he's a villian...but that's not really true. He was merely a man--a mutant--with passion & vision...& he was willing to fight for his cause. To fight for what he believed in. & to lead others like him to fight. To fight for each other. To fight for change....

Now--I know Magneto is fictional. All too many of my heroes are fictional.

That does not mean they inspire us any less.

I have gifts & talents I cannot always control. I get angry....so angry...& lose my focus. Hell, as I write & speak to you at this moment, this is an effort in regaining my focus ...as a writer. I spend alot of time feeling ...all alone in a room full of people. & I've always been a misanthropic outcast.

I would read X-men comics in my youth....& it was never the humans I identified with.

I was always a mutant.

But there was something that always worked it's way in & out of the ever cranking, ever grinding cogs & gears inside my overactive imagination....the question was always simple. Who's side would you choose? In another realm, where mutant genes were a reality, would you fight alongside Professor X? Or Magneto?

Somehow...I never thought I'd be hanging out with Professor X...

“The time for subtlety is passing. Now is the time for change.” [New Mutants (Vol. 1) #38]

Headache....

I have a headache....I'm starting to feel like this is a metaphor for life....except that I think I'm just spiralling into a black mood today.

I wanted to write...but this headache is gnawing at my brain. Like a rabid animal....A feral creature....chewing.

Thrumming against the inside of my skull. Throbbing. Playing my own secret Morbid Angel tune inside my head.

That no one else can hear. No one. Only Me.

I know I need to write. Most days I want to.

Except for when I don't. Except for when I lie to myself.

Because there's not enough to war with in the real World...I wouldn't be Me if I didn't war from within as well....

I need to write. I need to sleep. I need to breathe. I need to accept. Accept myself & allow the changes to happen.

Instead of resisting. Forever Resisting. Because still I cause change.

It'll hurt less if I stop fighting.

But still I fight....

But Who is it I'm fighting now?...

Is it Me?....I think it's Me....

Can you hear Me?.....

Conundrum...

I want to live in the middle of nowhere....away from people...& simply drop out of a society I never much belonged in anyways. & yet when I'm at home & have downtime...or cannot sleep...I find myself on Social Networks..reaching out to people. Through machines. Even now...I write....to no one...but I'm still putting my thoughts out there on the interwebs. Releasing them into the Ether.

I value very little...more than I do my Freedom...& yet I find my Heart still trying to believe in things like "Soul Mates". I tell it to "Shut the fuck up!..." But the Heart wants...what the Heart wants...

I don't want to need ...anyone. & yet whenever I meet someone new...I find myself looking for that familiar spark...that flicker behind their eyes...

I have always considered myself an Individual....but even I seek somewhere to belong. Even if it's merely within "my pack".

I have a strong Voice...especially in written words....but when I have to speak...when I truely have something to say...the cat steals away with my tongue. When I want to say Everything...I say Nothing.

I get most of my creative inspiration from Dreams...Yet I am an Insomniac.

I am a very Literal person...saying only what I mean...saying only the Truth...yet I think & speak in metaphors. My thoughts are infinitely tangled with bits of stories & poetry ...& songs....

I consider Music as neccessary as Air...but cannot play a note. Not well, anyways.

I do not believe in God...but I believe in Magick...

I do not believe in "True Love"...yet I wish on Stars...

I'm unsure as to whether or not I believe in Rebirth...yet I dream of other "whens"...specifically of a Native American Shaman...

I am Lost, & I say I no longer care....& yet I continue to Seek. Continue to Quest....

I'm a jigsaw puzzle with missing pieces....& I think I left my map in the car...Where the fuck are those car keys anyways?...

Bittersweet On My Tongue...

"Loneliness adds beauty to life. It puts a special burn on sunsets and makes the night air smell better..."

Henry Rollins wrote that...& I think truer words were never spoken.

Lonliness is the human condition.

Strange thing is....I think I like mine...to a degree.

It sucks to be lonely...this much is true. & every creature seeks out companionship in one form or another...from human hands reaching for another in the dark....fingers desperately twining together....to the wolf howling at the moon...calling out to the Others.

I think it's the price one pays for Freedom...or maybe that's not true at all. Maybe it's merely the price one pays NOW.

I don't know. I couldn't tell you. I talk to myself here on the interwebs to get the words out of my head. I'm writing...just to write...because I hear the "rust in my Voice"...& I'm trying to work it out lest I become a mute.

Sometimes the lonliness gets to me...at 3am when I just can't sleep, or when I'm driving in my car late at night, & I can't help but notice the Christmas tinsel wrapped around the lamposts on every streetcorner...flapping in the breeze.

But when I really start to think about it...I relish my freedom. I fought hard to get it. It's not something I wish to relinquish any time soon. I have a tightknit circle of friends..."my pack", as I think of them, when I truely seek human companionship.

Often I prefer my own company. Or that of the Creature variety. My dog has become my most steadfast companion. He's much better company than my Ex.

Although... while I know I'll always value his companionship...I am also aware that it won't replace the need for human companionship.

But...


Maybe I'm not ready. Or maybe I just haven't met the right person...."my soulmate"? Does he exist? Or is he merely a Myth?

Do I even believe in such fanciful notions anymore?

Right now...I like not having to answer to another. I like staying out too late...& sleeping until I'm ready to crawl out of bed. I like taking late night walks...& playing records into the wee hours of the morning. & no one complains....

I like watching thunderstorms...& spinning & wandering in the rain...& howling at the moon with my canine brother. I like writing jibberish...& painting skewed perspectives & writing poetry on bits of napkins.

I like reading a book I love...for the 9th time...& underlining all of the words that resonate with me...& being able to simply "dog-ear" the page, so as not to lose my place. I like listening to strange music...& going to see bands I've never even heard of before play live on a whim...because I just happen to have nothing better to do on a random Wednesday...

I like burning candles & incense that leave my basement lair with lingering odors reminiscent "of an old ladies closet"; when I open my door, this inviting Earthy aroma envelopes you now...it never completely fades. I like talking on my phone until all hours of the night.

I like talking to my dog; he never tells me to "shut up!"...or thinks me crazy.

I like getting crazy ideas & being impulsive.

& I like having the freedom to do it.

....I like finding Myself again....It was much too long since I last saw Her...

It's In the Little Things...

I was brooding yesterday....in the way only humans are capable. Sinking fast. Realized that I still largely associate the Holiday Season, with someone no longer in my life. This is by my choice--a choice I do not regret. Not that I ever had much taste for it before...I now find Holiday Cheer...pungent.

I craved nothing more than silence yesterday, with which to better torture myself, I suppose...rather than the company of other humans. However, I attended the party as planned.

& was glad I went.

It was much too loud, & much too crowded for my taste...or to suit my mood. But I was pleased to be in the company of my friends; some I've not seen in much too long, others I converse with damn near daily. Their company & conversation were welcome to Me....& all welcomed Me.

The whiskey probably didn't hurt either. Dulls the edge.

A friend I'd not seen in much too long gifted me with a sweet surprise last night however, one that touched my heart. Call it a "christmas present"....or simply a kind thought & gesture. He brought me a record. A simple piece of vinyl, pressed ages ago & recorded by one of my favorite musicians & songwriters...."The Heart of Saturday Night" by Tom Waits.

He gave it to me for no other reason, than that he knew it would make me happy.

A simple act of kindness, an unexpected surprise, that lifted a black mood....A smile...that quelled the pain.

Friendship is a gift we can never put a price on.

I listened to "Drunk on the Moon" on the phonograph at 3am....& drifted off to DreamLand shortly after. I slept well last night....

...another gift....

Wise Words ...from a Fictional Wolf

The Holidays are...starting to gnaw at me today. Well, not so much the "Holidaze" themselves....but the Old Ghosts that I associate with them.

Which is why I'm writing at the moment. Clear the old head a little.

& then, I started to think about something....

See, recently...I've been re-reading one of my very favorite fantasy series: The Farseer Trilogy by Robin Hobb.

I'd almost forgotten them for a time, & recently they returned to my attention in such a manner that caused me to begin reading them, & experiencing them...all over again.

The books are ...leading me somewhere....

Hence--"Following the Fool"...

There's this quote that I just read...the point of view of a Wolf, who does not understand the ways of Man, yet is strongly bonded to one.

"It was just a thing from a yesterday?..." Nighteyes wondered hesitantly. "A thing no longer here? It is not a thorn in your paw? Or a pain in your belly?..."

I've been rolling these words around in my head since I re-encountered them last night. This fresh perspective....

Suddenly, alot of things seemed to snap into perspective for me.

Most of the things that ail us...are just that--things of yesterday. They don't matter anymore. We don't need them.

Old possessions. Old photographs. Old Words. Old Ghosts...

Put them away...forget about them...& move forward. This is what I tell myself. It 's easier said than done...but it's what I wish to do.

More than anything in this life...

All those "things of yesterday"...I just don't want them anymore.

I want nothing more than to live today--right now--& be Free.

Whenever I say such things, a friend of mine tells me I sound like a Chan Buddhist. Perhaps this is the case?...

Or maybe I simply sound like a Wolf.

Maybe I can just Be....

Maybe.

It Started With a Promise....

So...I've not written much more than a scribbled word or two or a random poem on a crumpled piece of paper in over a year. Not since i left "home"...& started over...It's been gnawing at me. Frustrating me. Because what I've always found peace in, always had to hold onto...I lost it. In my darkest days...my Muse had abandoned me. & I've not been able to hear Him anymore.

Someone told me...maybe you just have to re-learn an old language....

But I don't really know how...

That same person told me--you should start another blog--& just write, every day if you can, or as often as you can muster...About anything. About nothing. Don't tell anyone about it. Just write it for you. Maybe it'll unlock some of the doors inside your head that've sealed themselves shut. Just write...to write. To remember...To remember why you wanted to call yourself a "writer" in the first place. To remember why you ever found peace in it. To re-capture the magick in it. To find the Rhythm...

It's not gone, He told Me. It 's part of You. It'll never be gone...

You just have to find it again. When the time is right.

I promised that I would try....

That was about an hour ago. I figure, there's no time like the present, right?

There is ...power in words. More power in random words, perhaps?...

Yesterday, I went out to the City--Chicago, that is. A couple friends & I decided to go catch Kathryn Calder play at the Double Door. I've never really listened to her music before; I decided to tag along on a whim, as I had nothing better to do that night....& live music has a draw for me, like nothing else. There's something so...personal, so intimate...about a live band...playing a tiny venue...speaking directly to their audience as though it was a room full of their closest friends...who are just beneath the stage. & you're right there...& you FEEL the music....

Music can sweep you away....at least, that's what it does for me. I breathe it in like air. & it heals a wounded heart. Or soothes a savage mind. Fuels your energy...feeds your rage & hatred....makes you pump your fists...envelopes you like a blanket...when you really need the comfort...& don't wanna feel all alone. Speaks Your Language. Quells your tears. Or...music can give you wings...let you fly away. Or...sometimes it just makes you happy....There's no price on that. It's the "little things" that truely matter anyways, right?

I'm rambling.

My friend and I, we decided to walk to the Double Door from his apartment. We'd already had a few drinks, & it was unseasonably warm in Chicago last night. It was raining...but I love the rain. I always have...since I was a small child. I hear...music & rhythm in the rain. & I've always loved to walk at night...always. I used to walk all over town with my Father when I was young, & the late night jaunts were always my favorite. I don't get to do that often enough, as it's probably not the safest thing in the world for me to be wandering all over town alone, late at night.

So my friend suggested we walk, & I jumped on it. Had I realized we'd be walking a couple miles in the rain, I probably would've selected other footwear (canvas converse sneakers in the rain= wet feet!)...but I didn't even care...He kept saying "Girl, you should've said something! We could've taken a cab..." But I didn't want to....I wouldn't have traded that moment...for anything.

The City last night...is now...forever burned into my mind's eye...as it appeared to me just then, at that moment. A Snapshot in my Mind...

I walked the Chicago streets...in the night...with the rain falling softly...dampening my hair...in the company of one of my closest friends. The rain beat a steady rhythm that mirrored the beat of our conversation. I've not felt this peaceful in a while...& we hadn't even gotten to the part that involved the live music yet!

There were other people hustling down the street...hurrying, as if the faster they moved through the rain...they 'd end up less...wet? None of them seemed to be enjoying it...But I was. Too many people miss the beauty of the Rain.

What was it nelson Algren wrote? "Celebrate the ugly things..."

We were not in a hurry. We talked steadily...in that rhythmic manner that only close friends can...where you just don't miss a beat. Our own private language. The sky was an overcast grey...that almost appeared...backlit. Everything smelled...fresh & clean. Being a week before Christmas, the lamposts were wrapped decoratively...with tinsel & snowflakes.

Everything seemed...almost Otherwoldly...Halfway between this Realm...& another. But I felt as if I were...just where I was supposed to be. At that particular moment...I was Free.

Free for a moment...

A man stopped us on a street corner; I don't know that he was homeless, as he was armed with a camera...but his coat was scraggly & his hair was unkempt. He told us "You two look like a nice couple. Can I take your photograph?" We both sort of shied away from him...keeping our distance until we could cross the street. Passing knowing smiles between each other. Don't address it...& it'll pass right? We aren't a couple...only dear friends...which is better anyways.

In my opinion...the other gets screwed up all too easily....

The man with the camera...I keep thinking about him. My first insinct was..."He wants to steal a piece of your soul!"...That's how the old legends go right? Every photograph steals a little piece of you?...& captures a piece of your soul within the photograph...for all eternity?...

I almost feel a short story idea brewing in this ....random thought. Outburst. Overactive Imagination. Crazy right?

Maybe my Muse isnt gone after all....maybe he's lurking. Just waiting 'til the random moment when he can slip a note under the door within my mind...& capture my attention....

When we finally reached the venue...I was feeling very zen...in a way I've not in ages. There were 3 opening bands; 2 were pretty awesome, & the 3rd one...was just a man with his guitar. I looked up at him...& being that I often prefer male vocalists, had a thought that he was about to blow me away....

Yeah...but not in the way I'd expected! He half yodeled & single handedly cleared out half the room...

But when Kathryn Calder...of the "New Pornographers"...took the stage...the room went silent. All rustling stopped. All eyes were on her. This mousey girl with fierce green eyes looked out at us, grabbed the microphone, & just started chit chatting with her audience...like we were her friends...& then she began to sing...

in this soft, lilting voice...that is peaceful, & beautiful....

& amazing. The woman has a voice that could stop traffic; I envision people in the street, sitting on cars....listening to her sing. I would.

Having grown up in the punk & metal scene...but being a music fiend with erratic taste...& true lover of music...I just didn't know what to expect last night. I'm not a big fan of the indie rock scene; I've not had much exposure to it. I only went last night...because my friend wanted to go. We were outside smoking cigarettes in front of the venue...He told me he'd only ever been to one show where there was "moshing" going on! I looked at him like he'd just sprouted a 2nd head!..."Really?!" I asked him incredulously. I've only ever been to a handful of shows that DIDN'T have mosh pits sprouting up...one after another...& you're trying to avoid being swallowed by them...because they just arent the way they were when I was 19. People don't pick you up off the ground anymore if you fall....they just step on you.

Almost sounds like a metaphor for life.

The vibe of this show....was completely different than anything I am used to. But it was peaceful...& mellow...& I ended up being...oh so glad it had been suggested to me in the first place.

Turns out--I really needed it.

& I was...zen...For a fleeting few hours.

Last night was one of those nights that remind me, why it was I both sought, & fought, for my freedom in the first place. It also reminded me of this quote that I'm going to leave you with, from a favorite comic book series--The Hopeless Savages:

"It does not matter what Music you Kids Love...so much as that You Love Music..."