IMoPI

Nothing is True,

Everything is Permitted.*

.

The past is a myth

and the future is a lie.

.

(Or is it the other way around?)

.

I’m all I’ve got

and it’s all I need.

.

And, if it isn’t

Well, at least I did it my way.

.

(Also:

Fuck You)

Advertisements

Exercendo Latina: Introductis Sparky et latina

Ego sum Jade. Ego canem habet. Canis est Sparky. Sparky est valde pulchra. Ego Sparkem amare.

Sed Sparky est nunc antiquis. Ipsa est X annos. Tamen ipsa est adhuc valde pulchra. Et ego adhuc adorent eius. quia, illa est lux de meus vita. et absques ipsa ego sum nihil.

ego sum eruditio latina. me beatum facit. Sparky quoque facit me beatum. Hodie ego sum omnes ego sum quia de mea canis.  et mea educationae.

quia mea canis docuit mea diligem. Et mea educationae docuit mea amare discat.

.

TRANSLATION:

I am Jade. I have a dog. The dog is Sparky. Sparky is very beautiful. I love Sparks.

But Sparky is old now. She is 10 years old. However, she is still very beautiful. And I still adore her. Because, she is the light of my life. And without her, I am nothing.

I am learning Latin. It makes me happy. Sparky also makes me happy. Today, I am all that I am because of my dog. And my education.

Because my dog taught me to love. And my education taught me to love learning.

.

Retranslated to Latin:

Ego sum Jade. Ego canem habet. Canis est Sparky. Sparky est valde pulchra. Ego Sparkem amarent.

Sed Sparkem est nunc antiquis. Illa est X annos. Tamen, illa est adhuc valde pulchra. Et ego eius adhuc adorent. Quia, illa est lux de mea vita. Et sine sua, ego sum nihil.

Ego sum eruditio Latina. Ipsum ego facit beatum. Sparky quoque facit ego beautum. Hodie, ego sum omnis illa ego sum quia de mea canis. Et mea educationae.

Quia, mea canis docens mea amares. Et mea educationae docens mea amare eruditie.

Waking Wendy – I

The storm colored sky stretched out into eternity, as two lone figures stood beneath it, the only sound above the waves of the distant ocean being that of the wind whipping the edges of their long coats against the rustling uncut grass.

“When will things change?” asked the girl in gray.

The boy shook his head, letting multicolored drops of rain fall about them, “When you wake up.”

Her wide eyed gaze sought out the distant horizon, full of only the unknown. “Are you sure?”, she asked, biting her lip.

“Yes”, he smiled, before leaning closer, “Wake up, Wendy..”

~~~

The building wasn’t that tall, but four floors is still high enough to kill. Especially when you add in the 2 feet of the railing and the ledge, said the slurring voice in her head, and she burst into a fit of giggles, her waif like form shaking in mirth on the railing on which she was precariously perched. The moon looked on disapprovingly, but she drank to his health until even he forgave her, smiling reluctantly at her antics. After all, there is no dark side in the moon, really. And she gave him something to watch.

Alas, the watchmen have seen everything. And the moon is the oldest of them all. He soon tired of her childish games. It was time for something harder. And with magical dawns and falling stars and lighted paths, he led her astray into the wild.

“What do you want from me?”, she cried out suddenly, tired of the changing ground beneath her feet.

“I need you to wake up”, shouted back the moon. “Can’t you see what’s happening around you??”

But she only cried out louder, and shut her eyes tighter. She knew what the Moon wanted to show her, and she did not wish to see.

“Wake up, Wendy”, he whispered, almost lovingly, before withdrawing, once more, into silence.

~~~

He then spent years cleverly shaping her path, leading her slowly towards the palace of a dragon. For, even though there is no dark side in the moon, really; Matter of fact, it’s all dark.

Luckily for her, it wasn’t a particularly old dragon, for those are as weary as they are wise. Of course, this particular one was a little weary and wise himself, but he could not help it; all dragons must be.

“Why have you come here?”, asked the Dragon in his menacing voice, towering over the girl who had long shed her gray robes for black. “I’ve always wanted to meet a Dragon” she said, reverentially. “But, how did you know where to find me?”, asked the Dragon, surprised. “I heard your voice across the ocean a hundred years ago”, said the girl, “and I’ve been looking for you ever since”. The dragon studied her incredulously before swooping down and pulling her on to himself. In ecstacy, she watched the sky change colors and the clouds float on besides them, as they flew over towns and castles, showing her the World she had almost stopped believing in. The moon looked on in jealousy, but the girl had eyes only for the dragon.

But the sky had touched her with its ink, long before she had had any choice in the matter. And now, she was forever haunted by the dark. “Why won’t this stop?”, she cried into the dragon’s chest, his wing locked protectively around her.

“You know what you have to do”, he whispered soothingly, wiping the tears falling from her eyes.

“Wake up, Wendy..”

~~

But she was finally happy, and it didn’t seem fair to have to wake up just when things were getting better. She adorned the dragon’s head with flowers, and forbade him from ever speaking of it again. Of course Dragons don’t listen, but she was clever enough to remember that whether good or evil, they are creatures of their word. So she offered an exchange. That was how he got the third part of her fragmented heart. And as they flew higher and higher into the sun, she began to burn. Until the dragon noticed the edges of her hair were on fire, that is.

He immediately plummeted to the ground, crashing into a group of trees in his hurry to get her down to Earth safely. She tumbled off his back into the grass beneath, laughing. “That was amazing!” She raised her arms up, towards the Dragon. “Let’s do that again.” But the Dragon was saddened by her burning cloak, even when he saw glimpses of the red dress she had on underneath her burnt and tattered armor.

They’re only clothes, love, she wanted to say.

But night was falling, and before they knew it, winter was here. The Dragon was often gone for hours hunting, or flying, or doing whatever it is that dragons do. She did not know. All she knew was that when he was gone, she was cold. And she hated bringing it up, because she knew it made him think of the sun. And when he got like that, she didn’t know what he was after. So, she left him alone, and during one particularly frosty spell, she slowly froze into a picturesque statue.

The Dragon didn’t return for months, so he never even found out. In fact, it was quite undragonlike of him to do so in the first place, but he needed the thrill of the hunt a little more than he may ever needed her. It was a simple calculation really.

At least that’s what the village children say. But what do they knew? They’re idiots. Especially the young boys who liked to make faces at her frozen statue as she stood next to a shrine, painfully aware of every passing lifetime. He’ll come back, she whispered to herself fervently, her thoughts icy cold inside her mind.

But he didn’t.. At least not in time. And one night, a few of the boys hopped over the little fence that surrounded her in order to get a better look at her. She managed to slip away from them, only to fall to the ground and shatter into a million pieces. The boys scattered back to their homes, even as she slowly melted in the rays of the rising sun.

The Sun, she remembered fondly, and then closed her eyes, sliding down into a passing river that was making its way towards the sea. The Sea where the Dragon went hunting… She sat up at once, all the pieces of her focusing themselves into who she needed to be.

“Why don’t you look for a wizard, dear? You look like you need one.” called out an old lady from a passing boat.

The girl began to laugh again, and her tattered robes fell off her shoulders, only to reveal a beautiful red gown that now hung loosely from her fragile form. “No ordinary wizard can help me, old mother”, she cried, even as the river tried to soothe her “Can’t you see? I’ve been cursed by a Dragon.” The old woman turned and  hastened the boat away. For everyone knows how ancient the magic of a dragon is. And no one wanted to involve themselves in this tale.

The Dragon found her floundering about in the Sea, surprised to see her oddly rearranged form swimming in the cold winter sea. She raised up her trembling arms, and the dragon lifted her into the air, gently gathering her broken pieces that fell back into the reluctant river. “He’s not going to hurt me, River” she said, so tired that she had begun to slur, “Well, not much. But I’m not that weak!” The Dragon looked at her flowing gown and growled softly at the scent of the village boys about her.

“Why didn’t you come back?”, she finally asked, her voice a trembling whisper. “I never left”, he replied, quietly. She didn’t believe him, but pieces of her began to, and after years and years of icy solitude, it was simply too much to take, and she burst into tears. “What do you want from me?”, she cried.

He growled at her again and transformed into a wizard before her very eyes. She took a wary step back even as he smiled at her, wolfishly.

“You know what you have to do, little girl”, said the Wizard-who-used-to-be-a-Dragon as he moved in closer towards her, somehow so much more menacing than he had ever been as a Dragon.

“What?”, she whispered, her breath warm against his cheek.

He kissed her for a moment, before pulling away and cursing out reluctantly, “Wake up, Wendy.”

To Stay or To Go

What do you do when faced with life’s most persistent question: Stay or Go?

To Stay would mean swallowing your pride, perhaps even apologizing. Staying would mean trying to forget the shape and color of the knife that you barely managed to pull out of your throat. Staying means lowering your voice, walking on eggshells, and never being able to find the level of happiness you knew before you learnt that it could all be too easily destroyed. Staying means betraying yourself, with sugar-coated lies, and reassurances that your mind whispers to you all day long. Things were different back then. He didn’t mean it. This time is different. Staying means the constant reminder of the time you were confused, like a song that you had to train yourself not to cry at, or a milkshake that you had to stop drinking because it reminded you of him. Staying is pain.

To go would mean having the opportunity to start over. Leaving will allow you to relearn things, experience them all – all over again – with someone new. Leavng means being able to say at the very begnning, “Don’t hang up on me. I fucking hate people who do that.” Leaving means being free to pick a new favorite flavor of ice-cream, a new favorite song, even a new favorite scene from any move you like. Leaving means new adventures, new faces, new reasons to laugh and rejoice and celebrate life. Leaving shows you that you’re stronger than anything life may throw in your path. Leaving assures you that you’re still what’s most important to you – something that’s a lot more necessary than one might think. Leaving means movng on, forging your own path, letting go, growing up, seizing the day.

But, leaving can also be cold.. especially when everywhere else in the World seems dark and lightless. And when your very being likes where it is, leaving isn’t so much about moving forward, as it is about grabbing on to soul’s soft hair, and wrenching it out of its warm bath, only to drag it far and beyond everything it has known and grown to love. Leaving is about goodbyes that you *have* to say, and more importantly, goodbyes that you do not know how to say. About farewells that find you kicking and screaming as you try to hang on, and those that are so exhausting that they leave you curled up in a corner, too tired to even cry. Leaving involves the long walk down the driveway, every step of which is wracked with guilt, blame and regret. With doubts and despair. With the sinking feeling you get when you realize that it doesn’t matter how much time, effort, money or love you put into whatever it was that you must now say goodbye to – it clearly wasn’t enough. Not good enough. You weren’t good enough. Leaving is about accepting defeat, and moving on.

Yet, sometimes you have to linger.. Whether it be by your pool, or by the flowers you so painstakingly planted, even if it is for no other reason than to see them bloom. Even if they aren’t even your flowers anymore. Even if the Sun shines hurtfully, or you’re trapped in the pouring rain, or it begins to snow.. Staying doesn’t need the rewards leaving gives you, because being able to stay is by itself a reward. It gives you time to say your proper goodbyes, to apologize to those that hurt you, to kiss the pet animals you’ve rescued over the years, and tell the children to be good, and to pack up the things you know you’ll need, and pack away the things that have outlived their purpose. Staying, whether it be for minutes, months or years, acknowledges the time you spent trying to build up this castle for your spirit. It accepts the apologies you’re compelled to make every  time you see a crack in the wall. It teaches you how you could have done things differently, and how you could have saved it all.

~

Only thing to remember is not to linger too long.

Because your soul needs its hot water bath and familiar surroundings, even if you have to build them up from scratch.

Your soul needs the reassurance of knowing that you won’t be kicked out to the curb again.

Your soul needs a place to plant flowers, and giggle deliriously and be kissed by someone who cares about you so very much, that they would never ever leave you out in the cold.

Don’t linger too long. Your soul deserves better.

A Dance of Memories

In crimson leaves from long ago
Lie shadows of things I used to know
Under the branches of the lilac tree
Where I knew you, and you knew me

I watch our shadows as they dance,
Wistful remnants of a long lost chance
I sit still in dull, insipid wonder
Fearing rain, but craving thunder

And as the night begins to grow
I wish I had the strength to go
But I cannot leave our pasts at play
You may go, but I must stay..