A Burning Brilliant Star

I saw you. In that moment I was a burning brilliant star. Something shining and new and beautiful. Something worthwhile. I blazed across the sky, a fierce stellate shooting across the heavens to show how dim the stars burned in stasis.

Symphonies ruptured the silence of a stillborn heart and life poured out and covered the soul. Life expressed its vitality in that ailing string. Resounding, overwhelming, cascading and invasive. Everything was right. Everything was sure. Conducive. An affirmation of a myriad of portents, omens and signs; fiercely drowning cataract.

First breath. First sight. Everything renewed, restored. Vigor. Palatable, sensual.


And you turned only to vanish. An aberration, illusion. Some vicious oasis in this desert wasteland. Destruction as beautiful as the creation.

If love is the master, hope is the apprentice.

Forgive, Never Forget

Those who cannot remember the past are condemned to repeat it.

George Santayana

You will never learn anything if you continue to forgive and forget. Forgiveness is fine if it is deserved, and better when it isn't. You can still make someone's life a living hell without holding a grudge. Grudges prove useless. They make anger seem unhealthy - when in fact it is one of thee most useful emotions you have. Because anger gets shit done.
Forgive everyone. Every slight. Every misdeed. Every trampling of your bitter black heart. Forgive it all.

But don't you ever fucking forget. Not ever. Whoever it was that said "Forgive and forget" needs to be anally raped for hours on end with a mace; and then pulverized with it. What a fuckwad. There's a reason shit happens. So you learn. So you get wise. All these cocksuckers run around wondering why they're constantly being fucked over. Here's a hint sweetums: BECAUSE YOU FUCKING DESERVE IT!
Yeah - that's right bitch. You. Deserve. It. If you are too INSIPID to learn your lesson the first time around you deserve the second time. And every time thereafter. I do not feel pity for anyone constantly being trampled on. You are allowing it to happen. And no body gives a shit about the doormat. Pick yourself up or quit bitching. Stop being incompetent. Stop being worthless.

Forgive the assholes. Remember it clearly. Learn your lesson. And then fuck their lives up.
Oh, forgiveness is great. It helps you to plan their demise without emotion. Thusly getting a clear and precise plan. Don't be afraid to make enemies. You've got to stab that bitch in the back for every scar you've got.
Murder really is justifiable in too many cases.

Inspiration

You make me feel like a sticky pistil
Leaning into her stamen.
You make me feel like Mr. Sunshine himself.
You make me feel like splendor in the grass where we're rolling
Dance with me baby
You make me feel like the Amazon's running between my thighs.

You make me feel love, love, love, love, love
love, love, love, love, love
You make me feel love, love, love, love, love
love, love, love, love

You make me feel like a candy apple; red and horny
You make me feel like I want to be a dumb blonde
In a centerfold, the girl next door.
And I would open the door and I'd be all wet
With my tits soaking through this tiny little t-shirt that I'm wearing
And you would open the door and tie me up to the bed.

You make me feel love, love, love, love, love
love, love, love, love, love
You make me feel love, love, love, love, love
love, love, love, love

Lover, I don't know who I am.
Am I Barry White - am I Isis?
Oooo
Lover I'm laced with your unconscious,
I will be your Desdemona

You make me feel, ohhh
You make me feel, woowoo baby
You make me feel, ahhh
You make me feel, oh, oh, ah, ah, oh, oh...

Mistletoe can be deadly if you eat it.
A kiss can be even deadlier if you mean it.

Attraction. That instant when your attention is completely captured by another. Your eyes lock and everything else in the room is still. Muffled.
Think of every war movie you've seen where they have that one seen where the character is shell shocked. You can still see the horror of battle going on; bodies flying, bombs exploding, shrapnel catapulting through the air - chaos incarnate. But there's only that muted shush sound the ocean makes.

The seconds that expand in that instant you look at me could compose and eradicate a thousand universes. My breathing stops. My pulse races. Every muscle in my body tenses. Adrenaline burns a mainline, cranking the beat of my heart to a slamfest-escape-attempt in my chest. My jaw locks. My knees give.
Have you ever wondered why I only look at you head on when I'm sitting or leaning against something?

Sometimes I hate it. But I'm always wanting more. Burning with the need for that next look. Coiled like a spring tensing a trigger.
I want to throw caution to the wind, corner you and pounce.

I want to bite you.
Hard.

I want to fight you for dominance in a quest as thoroughly exhilarating as it is exasperating.

I want to explore you like a pioneer on a new world, with teeth as sharp as my intellect.


I want to let it slip how you can
seduce
dominate
overthrow
Me.


Beauty is not applicable to the physical appearance
Only the inspiration caused by another.

Hunter When The Moon Is High

Some things are hard to understand…understand if you really understood me I wouldn’t be so alone. Or rather feel this way… arbor mist zinfandel sangria sucks ass – it’s like drinking lime wine [NOT REALLY IT’S LIKE DRINKING FRUITLOOPS]; what a pervasive and degrading idea. I see him sitting there and wonder what he’s thinking…or if he thinks of me while I think of him…though the answer is more than likely not. He has his own life, and his own thoughts - though I wish he would have me on is mind I am not delusional enough to think he does…

A mind’s eye is a Minds Eye and though I may seem impotent in certain facilities I am coherent enough to understand a concept as base as this. Why others do not seems to boggle and vex me in ways not understandable to myself…as though I am above the evolution of the others. Though not all, I do have a few who fallow suit. But not enough and this it’s self seems to vex me even more…like I’m waiting for the remainder of humanity to catch up with myself...

My heart beats a rhythm I wait for someone to hear and understand so that they may love me. It beats wine at the current moment and maybe Lady Sovereign as it right…because some love me and some hate me but they are all obsessed in some way. I’m the Rubik’s Cube everyone wants to finish. Not bragging as I do not understand this myself. Find myself giving them sideways glances as they reach and paw for my attention – labs after the approval of masters proving to be false gods...

The tangy sweetness cascades along the tongue and down the throat reaching in due process the organ it’s fixated upon, and teasing in its sweetness, delicate flavors prance upon budded muscle. How sweet and ingratiating the scent of blood… I wish for it even as none comes. Nothing ever tasted as sweet and delicate as life’s liquid, whispering the sweet sins of the owner upon the tongue and losing itself deep inside uncovering angles to the soul itself that even the carrier knows not. Magick is potent in these silent touches. Burning and hot, an alluring combination, to one so hungry and deprived. I’m pawing at that source, though I know nothing will come from it; pumping in vein from a well that as long since run dry. In agony I howl for one who will let me lap at the blood pool their heart creates for me. Lone a millennium, this queer wolf-cat hybrid – emulsions of vampire spun throughout bright and cascading in an eternal symphony as potent as the pull of the poles to migrating animals… Silently she waits, in utter agonizing anticipation of what may be — what could be if only one were there to be white to her black, angel to her demon, god to her lucifer… She waits hungrily starved for the one who will come, fangs bared in a snarl cruel enough to terrorize the monsters in the darkest minds of the soulless – the one who comes will find an aphrodisiac in them and happily plunge into the maw of razored wolvesteeth.

Running silently over snow crusted hills she hunted, searching for that elusive one who consistently evaded her. She would prevail – even her prey knew this, and its heart beat thirty to the dozen, a sharp gallop in comparison to her own. She knew the time was nearing and her fangs elongated in her mouth cutting her pouty human lips until she kneeled to her fours and sifted to the form the moon compelled her into…