Stop the love and light shit already

Ahh..I have been drama free most of the week..no yelling or listening to the ignorance that some people spout on a daily basis.  So how to start off my new week?  Why, by voicing an opinion on a post and the OP resorting to yelling, stomping and throwing temper tantrums like the asscricket he is, of course. 🙂
So what is the new drama about? A friend posted a new meme that says:
Everyone can say I love you 
But not everyone means it
So believe it when you feel it
not when you hear it.

I called BULLSHIT.  Why?  Well as some of ya’ll know, I have issues.  And one of those is about those three little words.  Love is a verb. To be put into action.  If you say it, then how you treat the person you say it to will back that up. Standing in front of a mirror saying “I love myself” over and over again until you believe it is borderline psychosis.  I will admit that positivity is needed , but a mantra of  telling yourself that you love  yourself  is lacking on a lot of shadow work in order to accomplish that. Said asscricket says if you say it enough times you will believe it and that we are what we think..really?  If that is the case then a lot of people in this world are in damn big trouble.  Too often people have low self-esteem and think they are nothing more than what others validation makes them.  Again..BULLSHIT!!! We are MORE than what we think.  It takes work, and letting go of stones  that others have placed in our pockets that invariably cause us to drown with the weight as we step out into the waters that is life flowing by.  A simple mantra to place “magick”(his pretentious use of the “k” not mine) on ones self is not a viable option to living life here in the mundane.  In truth, it reminds me of the SNL skit of the guy looking in the mirror and saying, “I am special, I am intelligent, and doggone it, I like me”…It’s a joke.  Self delusion is not a harmless diversion.  There are a lot of self-help gurus around that would have you believe that if you tell yourself often enough then you can manifest what you want to happen. BULLSHIT.  If wishes were enough then cancers, abuse, wars and all the other ills of the world would disappear, because the gods know that many of us wish things could be different on a daily, hell sometimes even hourly basis.

I know people who make excuses for those in their lives that utter those words, and yet treat them with disrespect and are  abusive verbally.   So I can’t help wondering if the  self help asscricket  would prescribe them to do his mantra to gain some clarity in their lives to gain a magical foothold into finding the love in their lives.  I’m sure he would and he would be wrong of course.  When people validate themselves by others opinions, they have a lot of issues to work on.  And just telling yourself you love you, will not do it.  They have to learn the value of self.  That encompasses ALL areas of life.

For those who truly believe in all the love and light crap, that is your privilege I guess, but I live in the real world(and other areas as well) and do not abide with the view that “love is all you need” even if the Beatles did have a simplistic view of a better world.  What we need is some common sense of how to treat others and learn that lip service is not going to cut it, magically or otherwise.

tempête parfaite

Fire and water

Apparently I am protected by those who have always done so..I had no intention of going anywhere, and yet  I find myself  in a boat going down the bayou to a protected glade.  I reach the shore and smile as I catch the scent of herbs already wafting through the air.  Yet as I reach the protected circle, I dont see anyone close by , but the cauldron is in full roar and I swear I can hear the beginning rhythm of drums.  I push back the hood of my cloak and make my way to the fire and breathe deeply.  The herbs fill me with sense of purpose, their pungent odor of pepper and other sundries making me grin as I realize the direction of this night.  I sense Brin has set up a protective pose  at the entrance , yet do not turn to see.  She has protected me as I worked many times, so there is no need for me to make sure she does her job.  I don’t even have to ask who set this up.  I am aware of those who direct my steps, and I even know to whom this work is going.  If they had not been arrogant in their treatment of others, this might not have been necessary, and yet I feel no remorse at directing such a work.  I begin the words that come from others before me..speaking each tone precisely in a language that is not my own. I pull in from around me, energies that grow as I call the storm to me to be pushed out, gathering more rain as it grows.  The sound of drums continue, increasing in volume and my feet seem to dance as with a will of their own.  I turn and move around the circle, and feel the tempest within grow as I move.  In and out, around and about.  I see the subject of today in my mind’s eye and smile as I reach out and touch them.  Do they suspect what is coming their way?  Perhaps..just that feeling of an edge..the sense of “something” is close by.  Never mind “friend”…you’ll know soon enough.  I continue to dance, building that energy to crescendo level and send it on its way, shouting as I do so.  Never mind the words that went with it, they weren’t meant for others to know.  But they have significance.  I feel that heaviness come over me as it always does after I work and have released that energy flux, so I make my way back to the fire.  I make myself some coffee and add a liberal dash of rum.  Ahh..the satisfaction that fills me cannot be measured.  I continue to sit and relax and contemplate a work well done.  Finished with my coffee, I put out the fire until later use, pull my cloak closer and pull the hood up over my head and make my way back to the water’s edge as I make my way back home. Brin follows close behind, ever watchful, over protective as is her way.
I awake this morning with a sense of calm.  After all, I am not the one caught up in the tempest.  Consequences have repercussions that often reverberate louder and longer than many understand.  So I believe I’ll begin the day with coffee and rum…raises cup to the storm..slainte’

Spinning the web

“I thought I was supposed to stay put”, I said to George as I followed him.  “Someone wants to meet you”, he said.  Oh..someone wants to meet me..wait..what?  Who wants to meet me? I wondered.  George did not answer just kept walking down the path.  I sighed.. Yeah no use asking him 10001 questions because that is one taciturn spider and he will reveal only when he is damn good and ready.  Soon we arrive at a familiar spot. Crossing the bridge to the enormous tree where the spiders reside I slide a sideways glance at George who says nothing.  I shrug and follow him into the tree and down the long flight of stairs.  “I always feel like Alice” I say out loud.  To be stating that I’m speaking to George would be silly really because he seems only intent on our errand and not in conversing.  But I am surprised when he chuckles and replies”stay out of the rabbit holes”.   Well what do you know..a sense of humor! I smile and follow him down and soon we reach the bottom.  I blink as we step out as my eyes become accustomed to the brightness, and see several that I know well. They come to greet us  and we exchange pleasantries.  George waits a bit, then says we must be on our way, and we walk toward the weaving hut.  Wait.  I’m weaving?  George opens the door and we walk inside where master weavers are already at work.  One comes to me and she and George speak  together, then they lead me to a loom in the corner.  “I will be back in awhile”, says George then he leaves.  Just like that.  Well fuck! The spider left with me introduces herself.. “My name is Chantrelle.  I will be your instructor today.” She begins to gather threads for the loom.  Light, almost airy, silver. Iridescent web-like  threads that seem so fragile that if one but breathed on them, they would disappear, and yet as I held them, I feel their strength vibrate and smile at their deceptive looks.   Chantrelle shows me how to add the threads, and move the shuttle in and out and around in an intricate panel.  Jebus, I think to myself.  I am not sure I will learn how to do this one.  Chantrelle smiles at me and reassures me that I will indeed learn to weave it.  “Just practice with it and I’ll be back to check on you”, she says.  So I sit and try to replicate  what I have been shown.  Soon I have a hopeless mess of knots.  I sigh heavily. ” I cannot do this” I say aloud.  “Nonsense child”, says a voice behind me. I turn and see her.  Grandmere Spider.  I have no words because I am in such awe.  I never thought that I would ever meet her.  Hell truth be known, I never thought I’d meet half of those I have, but to meet influential ones..that always blows my mind.  I bow..”It is an honor to meet you Grandmere”, I say.  She laughs.  “I can say the same, walker of the worlds”.  “Now, lets attend to these knots”, and she turns and miraculously untangles all I have done wrong.  “The pattern is a similar one that you already use, but has a couple new twists”.  Slowly, she takes my hands and places the shuttle in one and instructs me deliberately and patiently .  I move the shuttle in and around, and up, down then through as she instructs and before us appears the most perfect star…OMG! I actually did it! I am so excited that I want to jump up and down and laugh, but how would that look to the Grandmother of spiders? Grandmere laughs.  “You did well.  Now we need to finish the work”.  I continue the pattern, marveling over the gossamer texture and the steel resolve of the pattern within.  As I move, making the web grow, Chantrell comes back.  “My apologies Grandmere”, she says.  “I should not have neglected my post”.  Grandmere brushes her off.  “I will instruct from now on”, she says.  “She has a knack for the loom and the web sings from her hands”.  Chantrelle moves away and I can see her looking a little confused, but hey, who is gonna argue with the spider in charge right?  All too soon, I am finished with the web itself.  Grandmere helps me remove it from the loom and we hang it on the wall hooks to admire it.  “It’s beautiful”, I say.  And it is.  It seems to shine with a light of its own as if the stars themselves twinkle within the web.  “You did well Cher”, says Grandmere.  George returns and bows as he notices who is with me.  “I have come to collect my charge”, he says “Take good care of her George, and make sure that she returns often.  she and I have a lot to discuss”.  I bid Grandmere adieu and George carries the web.  We make our way toward the staircase and while I am usually the one with questions, I find that it is George who has them this time.  So I explain how I came to have an expert web spinner become my instructor and the pattern she taught me.  We reach the top of the stairs and we find Brin waiting for us.  George hands her the web and we start toward the glade.  I turn and wave good-by to George, who returns the wave then moves on to the shadows.  Brin helps me hang the web and as I sit by the fire, I lie back and admire my work.  The web adds a new depth and has new meaning. Now I just have to pay attention to those who would explain that.

ice within

I am sitting on a rock in the dark.  I an in my favorite spot to meditate by the ocean high upon the cliffs but do not usually come here in the dark.  Unless things around me seem frayed.  I don’t feel frayed really, more of a discontent from sitting instead of working and a way to feel connected instead of feeling like I am floating in the cosmos. And yet, here I am in the “thinking” spot, in the dark. I pull my cloak around me to shield myself from the cold that is drifting in.  I think that’s odd because it is usually comfortable here when I come since extreme temps can distract me from finding the balance I come looking for.  But then, I don’t usually come in the dark either.  So why am I here?  At this point I can only speculate.

“Nice to see you looking well Cher”, says a familiar voice.  I smile as I turn around to face one that I have not seen for some time.  “I’ve missed you Brother”, I tell him.  “I would offer to hug you, but…” his voice trails as he shrugs.  I know that the cold will seep into my bones if I were to do so, but I have missed him dearly and reach for him, pulling him close in an embrace.  At once the cold begins to invade my bones, and he pushes me back gently.  “Can’t have you chilled”, he laughs.  So we move to a space out of the winds that seem to have arrived with him and take shelter within a small area with a ledge overhand that blocks the chill.  “You taking care of me now”? I tease.  He laughs and says seriously..”You are my bridge back and forth, can’t allow you to be harmed”.  So I sit with my back against a rock, relaxing as he lights a small fire for me.  I smile as I think of how often on mundane plane he must have done so.  Soon he is satisfied and comes to sit beside me.  We begin to talk… of my life, his existence and what things feel like for each of us as we traverse our way.  “So tell me why the disconnect”, he asks.  “What disconnect”, I ask? He sighs and shakes his head.  “You are pulling away Cher…from people, from those who could/would help you.  I want to know why”. I honestly have no idea and tell him this. It’s a dissatisfaction with things in general..the mundane, the spiritual. With myself. I tell him that since I have no clue as to why the disconnect, I really do not have a way to fix it.  “Why don’t you talk to those who are already connected to you”.  I sigh.  How to explain that old habits have crept in..the “I don’t want to bother/worry you” habit that keeps me silent and removed.  I feel like I’m hanging out in limbo somewhere..wanting to smash things to break the silence of the bubble that is around me…But just how does one fix that? “There are no easy fixes”, he tells me…”you know that.  But to not avail yourself of those who would listen as you spin, can be helpful because they might see some things you don’t.”.  “And what if I don’t want them to see?  You know I hate mirrors”, I laugh.  He shakes his head.  “And will use sarcasm as a weapon of deflection every.time.” I look down at my hands, my rings reflecting the light of the fire.  He takes my hand where the ring of tiger’s eye sits.  He smiles. “You wear that ring as I once did.  Did I tell you it was made on the reservation?” Yes , he had told me.  “Did I tell you that I had it blessed by the medicine man of the tribe after I went though the spiritual purification? No, he had not done so.  “I always wore it because of that spiritual connection to the earth and blessing.  You wear it in remembrance.  Now I ask you to open and allow that blessing to surround you. To allow its healing warmth to draw you back to first knowledge, love and connection”.  The tears fall even now as they did within my dream as I hear his words to me and feel the blessing that was placed within a small piece of silver and stone.  I had only thought of it and held it as a direct connection to one that I had loved with all of my being and lost too soon, and now here he was letting me know that it holds so much more.  He waits until I compose myself to again take my hand.  “I am always close and I know that you can find me should you need me to listen, Miss walker between the worlds”, he gently teases.  “Don’t allow the walls you build get so high that you cannot look over them or keep you from moving forward.  I know that you value your privacy and use it as protection.  Don’t allow it to become the way you live life because others love to see your light”.  I smile through my tears.  “You know being an adult sucks sometimes right?”.  He laughs.  “I wouldn’t know.  You always told me that I wasn’t one”.  He ducks from my pretend punch.  We both laugh.  Some things never change.
Too soon he has to leave.  “Stay by the fire”, he says.  “If things haven’t changed, you will still want to think and this will be more comfortable”.  He places a kiss on my forehead and makes his way back into the shadows.  I want to call him back.  It’s selfish I know, to want to keep him with me, when he has things to do.  he can’t be here on the mundane and I can’t stay within the shadows.  Brin soon joins me and sits beside me.  I curl up next to her, feeling comfort in the protection of her nearness.  She begins to sing me to sleep with the song of old that even though I do not know the words, still fills my heart, melting the ice that I feel within my bones. It’s a start I guess.  No clue as to how long it will take to find level ground, but I’ll make it.  Maybe it IS time to make some changes with the new year rolling in…we’ll see.  Until then, the status quo will exist for a bit I guess until I get sick of myself.

Education and validation

Validation.  Big word with intense meanings…something that corroborates a held belief,thought or action, to officially sanction it as correct response or action.
Personally, I look for validations when I’m working or from my guides that what I’m doing is correct or will have the desired results I intended. I do NOT look for it from others.  Why is that you may ask(and I know the couple readers who follow here probably will). It’s because I refuse to allow others to define who I am.  I look in the mirror every day-not for long I’ll admit since I dislike physical flaws that I KNOW are there ,lol.  So what do I see? A woman who has aged, not always gracefully, but that has gained in knowledge about just how strong she is, and can be again when the need arises.I see a person who shares her compassion with others, teaches life lessons to those who require them, and enjoys life as the journey it should be.  I also know my limitations.  I cannot change everything or everyone.  Some people will choose to remain ignorant no matter how many pearls are placed before them.  Those are the people who will be used as slag when the road to knowledge is constructed….trodden underfoot and mired in the mud and grit because of their willful ignorance.  But it’s those willfully ignorant people that frustrate the hell out of me.  They wear their ignorance like its a badge of honor-“we act like this because it’s expected of us, so we behave in a way that makes others laugh with us” .Wait.  What!?!?!?  You act STUPID because   OTHERS expect it of you? Why in the name of the gods would ANYONE let others use their bias and closed minds  to validate them? How does that benefit you? Does it help you grow spiritually? As a human being? I swear it’s enough to make one want to bang your head repeatedly until it explodes.  Nothing less than pain can remove that ignorance from your eyesight or hearing. All this “dumbing down” has got to stop.  It does nothing to further the education needed to make the right choices in our lives.  We as human beings have an immutable right to choose our own destiny, and frankly this crap of reality TV  does nothing to prove that people are taking advantage of that.  Why would one want to limit themselves to playing “Bojangles” to validate what others perceive them to be or deem they are only fit to be? How fucked up is that? Jebus, the number of people walking the earth who’ve grown up thinking they are less than their worth is almost innumerable.  You’re too fat/too skinny, too tall/ too short, too ugly/ too pretty,too stupid/too smart, too black/too white, ..the list is way too long to list here, but ya’ll get my drift.  Why let others define your worth?  Why let them pick what path you set your feet to?
The way I see it, is that this is dangerous thinking.  You begin by believing what others believe you to be and when the time comes for your voice to be heard ..NEEDS to be heard..you cannot speak.  This is what gets humanity into a world of hurt and causes history to be repeated across the board.  I hear people say “I can’t afford education”..really?  REALLY?  Open your ignorant eyes.  Education is all around you, free for the taking.  See that man over there tending the yard? Know what he’s really doing?  Taking his mind elsewhere from the day to day mundane problems, and feeling the earth..reconnecting, filling his spirit with something other than the bullshit handed out on every street corner.  See the woman in the corner knitting?  Guess what she is doing?  Observing humanity.  Removing herself from negative that flows from others and finding a calm place within herself in order to be able to face the other issues once she goes about her daily life.  Education doesn’t just come from books you know.  It’s from observation, finding those examples  that show us how to tap into creativity, a way to reconnect to that center we all hold.  It comes from living life , taking each day as it comes, reaching out for the promise held there and working through the obstacles that will invariably arise.  Don’t think because you are out of school, never finished school or hadn’t the opportunity to further your education that you cannot learn something every day.  Most of all, do not believe others when their image of you falls short of the one you hold within your heart…they’re wrong ! So go forth and educate yourself.  Stop thinking that you have to act like their views.  Become who you were destined to be.  It’s not as bad as you’ve been led to believe.

And the flames burn

Sometimes one just has to burn it all down and begin again.  Those who create, either with words or physical medium understand that sometimes what we wrought is not exactly what we intended.  So it has been for me as of late.  Nothing I’ve tried has been of any use to me other than to frustrate the hell out of me  and to stress me further than the week in hell has done.   I’ve not had the patience to sit and take up my threads which actually fills me with peace as I see what develops, I can’t write..well I have, but that sucked as those who chose to see them took them, picked them apart to the carcass and decided what they meant instead of what was the intent.  Dismay did not even begin to cover how I felt.  It’s almost like seeing a masterpiece desecrated in the name of “improving” it.  Contributed to my monumental headache.  What to do? Shake my head, say fuck them and their biased closed minds and close that avenue of posting because who cares , right? This. This..This…is my safe haven that I have actually neglected for the other site, and I almost feel guilty because of that.  A dear friend provided this safe haven where I can come and clear my head without asshats chiming in unless I care to allow them to do so.  Sanctuary. It’s being provided to me on every level.  I’ve been to see Maman, who as always soothes my spirit.  Brin is close by, singing me to sleep to help me rest.  George and Mr. Kitty, they hunt those who dare to spew their crap this direction…and me?  I sit and watch the flames from within the circle I have created.  They climb higher and higher, burning blue, red and orange.  Little sparks snap into the air as if creating a song of the heart.  All that is too be removed is being done, so there isn’t much to do except watch the flames burn. And maybe have a drink 🙂

Grow up Peter Pan

Ok, show of hands, who has refused to become adult? Plenty of us I dare say, but there comes a time in life when we simply MUST step up to the plate and deal with things on an adult level.

I have problems with those people who refuse to either accept responsibility  for their actions, or make excuses for those around them.  You know the type that when they are stressed beyond belief and those who are involved in their lives, wont do jack to help alleviate some of that and the excuse is”well, they work hard”, or “I just didn’t want to bother them”.. Or those who claim a “close relationship” with family and yet cannot tell them they are on that last damn nerve. Why not?  You rant, vent about it to others on social media all the time and yet you don’t want to stand up and voice that complaint to the person who could help? Why do you stay in child mode and not speak up as the professed “adult” you are? Makes no sense to me. I also take issue with those who are stuck in child mode.  Ya’ll have seen them..the ones who purposely mispronounce words that as an adult they should damn well know or speak with a babyish sing song voice that nobody over the age of three uses.They have a tendency to repeat verbatim things other people spout off and yet do not even consider just how stupid it sounds coming out of their mouth. They refuse to admit it even and still carry a simplified child like view of the world.  You know, just little FYI..life isn’t all black and white..there are shades of gray when one seeks to walk within reality and colors galore when you expand your view.
Believe me, there are days when this adult would readily join the six year old who lives with me and back the rest of the world the fuck off , but I think I might have been born into this lifetime old so the ancient journey still continues and I have things that require my attention, both in the mundane as well as Elsewhere.  I don’t have time to whine and bitch(although I do sometimes to people who allow me to do so when that need arises).  Mostly I vent via this blog and shake my head at all the children I seem to encounter lately. maybe I’m going to be older that I realized on my quickly approaching birthday?  Or maybe it’s all those lessons I’ve been forced to listen to from those who guide my steps.  I can’t honestly say for sure.  what I do know is that I am getting damned tired of those who refuse to grow the hell up.  so for those of you who cross my path and still want to pretend you are in Neverland…word of warning..i might be inclined to help you get there. 🙂

Be an adult dammit

So social media has rage triggers for me, most of which I am proud to say I can walk away from, or find a way to channel it elsewhere.  Other times…well…not so much. Such as today.

In a pagan group I am a member of, I was reading where someone had had one of “those” type people come to her door with a small child and prompted him to give her one of their religious pamphlets.  She politely tells him “no thank you”   and closes the door.  Others have commented that they would offer pagan literature to said child, although they played it off as a joke.  My question is what pagan literature?  Many things written out there, so what would one offer as truth about an umbrella term that covers lot of traditions and faiths? Others say they would look the child in the eye and tell them “people really hate it when people such as yourself come to the door like this”.  Really?  Give the child a distorted self image of himself at 3?  Seriously..this will happen without your help as he grows into that faith …his brain washing that it is his “duty” to convert and save those who do not believe as he does. It’s what he is taught and the faith he is indoctrinated in.. Others still say they would tell the child “your mother is wrong for making you do this”.  OMDayum people! This is a small child who emulates his parents, loves them and you really want to be the asshat to tell him they are “bad”?  My problem is that some adults are focused on the child, who did nothing more ,after prompting from his mother , than to hand out a damn pamphlet.  I dont agree with the religion or its tenets, but I am almost certainly NOT going to speak to the child and tell him how stupid I find his parent for bringing him to a stranger’s doorstep..that will be reserved for them .  First, it is not their job to “save” me, no matter what lies they have been served.  Second, there is no unseen god that will reach down and protect them from harm should they find themselves on the doorstep of someone in the throes of a manic state, drug induced paranoia or worse yet, some pedophile intent on gaining that child’s trust.  This is not the 40’s..time has move on and people have no respect for one another let alone their fellow man(yes I am a cynic in that belief).  I will simply not allow their crown to gain any pearls from being berated, but simply hand them the brush that hangs by the door to wipe the dust from their feet and trouble themselves not about the condition of my soul. I get a lot of pissed off looks, but its effective.
What bothers me so much is the vitriol directed at the children  that through no fault of their own are born into faiths that require absolute obedience to family, god, cultural doctrines.  And yet other adults feel the need to judge and berate them for doing as they have been trained to do.  In this day and time, I see people who are rude to adults, but what gives one the right to be that way with children?  What gives people the right to teach their children its perfectly ok to speak rudely to their elders?  I know I’m from another time and raised with another set of manners than a lot, but elders are to be respected even if one disagrees and children are to be protected and enjoyed.  Even when they are involved in the ignorant things their parents make them do.

So be the adult.  Save your crap for the ignorant adult at the door, and do so away from the child…they are exposed to enough shit in their lives. Bid them good day and shut the door. Simple concept really, and less damage inflicted by you onto a child.

Because fuck it, that’s why

Dreams seem to be getting more physical lately..At least I feel them physically when I wake.. such is the case from last night.  My jaw is sore and my right shoulder blade feels like the knife is still there.  I got a note from a friend.  It says “Meet me“.  I know the friend, and also know the spot to meet him, so I gather my cloak and go to the In-between.  It is dark and I don’t see him as I look around when without warning, I am accosted by 5 armed men.  “Hold Swamp witch” said their leader.  “Fuck you” is my reply.  He approaches with sword in hand and at once I also call mine to me.  “You want me, this will not be easy”, I tell him.  So the dance of swords begins, I parry and thrust and it looks as if I will win this battle…until I overlook one of the other asshats and he reaches out to clock me in the jaw making me hit the ground. I remember thinking FUCK as I go down.  I wake up in a resplendent bedroom wondering where in the hell am I and what happened to my friend.  My jaw hurts and I can taste blood.  Someone will pay for that one . The door opens and in walks the Queen of my nightmares..Aaryana.  Well this explains a great deal I think to myself.  “Good , you’re awake”, she says.   “You will notice that I didn’t put you in the dungeon again since you’ve proven that would be a waste of time”, she said.”Yeah, thanks for small favors.  Just what the fuck do you want this time?”She smiled a smile that does not reach her eyes.  Cold hearted bitch, this one.  “I want us to work together”, she says.  “Not fucking likely”, I tell her.  “You have injured your people, harmed children and been vile as hell to your family.  Just what makes you think that I would work with someone such as yourself”.  She smiled that reptile smile of hers again.  “I can make some intriguing offers”, she said.  “come and walk with me”.  I move a little stiffly from where I had been sitting on the bed and leave the room with her.  As we walk through the castle, she begins telling me family history.  I do not tell her that I have heard this before from my friend, her brother, Corwvyn.  We enter the great room and she bids me to sit on the chair beside her.I do and she tends to her business with people.  I see a familiar face in the crowd.  One man is from among those rescued from the dungeon.  “What is he up to”, I think.  He seems me watching him and turns away as if to shield his face.  Then it hits me.  It is because of him that I am here.  I got no message from my friend.  I went to where few others knew of, and it is he who started this who shit pile.  I look at him and give him a look that says he will be dealt with.  He turned a shade of pale and moved from the hall quickly.  I am beginning to become impatient for this farce to end.  I don’t have long to wait.  I hear a great commotion come from the courtyard and someone runs in to tell the Queen that they are under attack.  She runs for the balcony..I run for the courtyard.  I see more familiar faces.  Dag, corwvyn and others are fighting.  Dag sees me and yells, “Fight Shae!” No need to tell me twice since I am a seriously pissed off witch, and call my sword to me.  We continue to fight until there are no more standing..there are casualties on both sides.  The Queen is more pale than at any time I have seen her.  She orders help for her men and stares at her brothers.  Dag looks at her and tells her that they will speak another time.  We all leave without being stopped which is confusing to say the least, and do not stop nor speak until we have reached the sanctuary.  Dag stops and looks at me.  “Why were you there?”, he asks severely.  “You could have cost us our surprise”.  Wait..WTF!?!? I could have cost them the advantage?  Myself who was tricked into a meeting at a spot few knew of , and I am the recipient of his anger? Oh hell the fuck no! I draw myself up as tall as I can bear to stand since I seem to have suffered a blow to the right shoulder blade and my jaw still hurts like fuck.  “Now see here you ass cricket,” I begin.  “I am tired of all this being pulled into your shit. First your woulds, then your family, then the damn dungeon and being held hostage is not high on my list of recreation, just a little FYI.  I did not intend to be at the castle.  I was drawn there by a ruse to meet your brother at the In’between…I have the note”, which I produced for effect. Don’t be standing there accusing me of shit I had no control over nor any part of.  As for the fighting with you..you’re welcome, but this will be the last damn time I stand before you because of that bitch”.  I see the familiar face in the crowd and tell him.  “You want to place blame?  Look from within…not all are as they seem to be”.  I move to walk off before I really let loose, and feel a hand on my arm.  Corwvyn.  I look at him.  “I am not in the mood to speak to you today.  Someone has breached your security at the In-between, and I am through dealing with elves on this level”.  He looks at me carefully and finally nods and allows me to proceed.  I move across the bridge and see Brin waiting for me.  She takes one look at me and gathers me close and we instantly appear on Maman’s porch.  “Bring her in here”, says Maman.  She hands me a drink that I have grown to love…the coffee with cinnamon, chicory and chocolate laced with potent rum.  I lean back in the chair and she begins to tend my wounds, all the while chattering in her french dialect mixed with a language that is familiar but I dont speak.  I start to sit up to tell her something, but she pushes me back..”Rest Cher”, she says.  My eyes begin to close and when I do open them again, I am in Brin’s arms, held close.  I recognize this place.  It is her glade.  A place I’ve only been to a few times since it is a long journey.  I look at her questioningly as I hear the soft sounds of slumber from other dragons around us.  “Nobody can come here without permission, and you  need to rest and be protected”, she says.  I nod and close my eyes again as she sings the song of old that soothes me.  I will consider what to do about my friend and his family later, but for now, I will rest.

A new key

“Why is it always so damn cold”, I wonder to myself as I walk down the road.  It’s always like this on this road.  Darker than midnight and damned cold. I pull my cloak around me tighter willing it to warm me.  There are few lights on the road, and those that are lit only provide a weak respite to the black ink that is the sky.  I can barely make out shapes in the distance, a tree here, some rocks there.  I know that the farther I walk there is an inn that I have stayed in before, but it is still a good distance away.  What the hell am I doing out here anyway? Then I see him…well think I do.  a ghede who seems to come toward me and then disappears. ” The hell”, I think.  I shake my head and keep walking.  I finally get to a light and see him reappear, so I stop.  Might as well have some sort of feeble attempt at light to decide what is really going on, right? The one in front of me stands there with a deer in the headlights look and holds out his hand.   I am confused, so stand and look at him.  Apparently this makes him more nervous, so he disappears again…all but his hand which is skeletal and holds a key.  Wait.  A key?  Yep..there it is, a key.  Silver with an ornate head, and at the bottom two slim tumblers.  “I wonder what that goes to”, I think to myself.  The key continues to hang suspended in air, if one can call it that, wrapped within a skeletal hand.  “Are you going to make him stand there all night or will you allow him to give you the key like he’s supposed to”? asks a voice from behind me.  I smile.  I know that voice well.  If I had not been so busy with my thoughts, I would have paid attention to the rum and cigar smoke, so missed his arrival.  “Why does he keep disappearing”? I ask.  There is a laugh, followed with a reply of “Because you frighten him Cher”.  Wait.  I frighten him?   I laugh.  “You know most people would either think he was their nightmare, or that they were having some sort of psychotic break if they saw him”, I say. “He reminds me of the Cheshire Cat from Alice in Wonderland,” I laugh  He laughs.  “And yet, here he stands in front of the fierce Swamp Witch, doing his best to not fade completely away in order to give you what he is supposed to give you”.  Fierce?  The word makes me laugh.  I am nothing like that word  at all. He laughs.  “Just because you don’t see it, doesn’t mean others perception is the same”.  “Now, if you please, the one who had charge over the key is still waiting”.  OMG’s..the ghede.  I had forgotten he still stands half in, half out, holding the damn key.  So I hold out my hand and allow him to drop it into it.  Which he does quickly, and then the hand also disappear and I can feel the movement of a breeze as he moves away quickly. I look at the key and marvel that its weight is heavier than I first imagined.  “So what does this go to?” I ask.  He smiles.  “You know that you will have to find that out for yourself”, he said.  I shake my head.  “Yeah so much for things to be easy.” I laugh.  “Come have a drink with me”, he says.  Yeah…drinking with him is an adventure, but I do need to speak with him, so I agree and we set off for the tavern which seems to be closer than I first thought.  We find a table and the barkeep immediately brings us glasses and rum.  We sit and talk about several things that have been bothering me, and the other keys in my possession, what I have learned with them and the possibility of the new one doing(he would neither confirm nor deny my suppositions).  Soon it was time for me to leave.  I thanked my friend and made my way back home.  I have a lot of thinking to do and decisions to make concerning some things.  I’ve had good advice, and today a slight hangover. ~holds up keys~ “tell me little key, where do you belong?”