Vigilant - Favorite Book Quote All Time - Internal Freedom, Will, and the Triune Soul

"What did you learn, as a slave?"
"That no one can ever be a slave to another man."
"That is a lie."
"Then I learned a lie."
"But you believe it."
Will nodded.
"There are people who do things for fear of the lash. There are people who do things for fear they will lose their families or their lives. There are people bought and sold. Are they not slaves?"
They are slaves to their passion. Their fear rules them. What power do you have over me if I am not afraid of your lash? Am I your slave, if I am not afraid to lose my family? I obey you, faithfully, completely, because I choose to; am I your slave? And when you come to hate me for my freedom, which is greater than yours, and you command me to do what I will not do, then I stand before you in disobedience. Punish me, then; I choose to be punished. And if the punishment is more than I am willing to accept, then I will use such force as is necessary to stop the punishment, and no more. But never, for a moment, have I done anything but what I choose to do."
"Then no one is as strong as you."
"Not so. I've given my obedience to God, and use my best judgment to carry out his purpose, when I have some understanding of it. But those who have chosen to give their obedience to their passion, or to their memory, they freely choose to obey. The glutton freely overfills his belly, the pederast feeds on innocence, and the fearful man obeys his fear--freely."
"You make it sound as if our desires were separate from ourselves."
"They are. And if you don't know that, then you might as well become Unwyrm's slave after all."
"I know something of the doctrine of the Vigilants."
"I am not talking about a school of doctrine. I'm talking about the answer I gave Heffiji. The reason Unwyrm calls to me." 
Now she could ask him outright. "What question did Heffiji ask?"
"She asked me whether dwelfs have a soul."
"Then it is theology."
"What she really was asking--and it's a question you'd better answer before you face Unwyrm--she was asking what part of her was herself.''
Patience studied Will's placid face. How could he have known the question that so haunted her? "My father taught me to listen to everything and believe nothing."
"The dead do that much," said Will.
“The dead don't listen."
"If you believe nothing, then you are listening exactly as much as the dead."
"I'm not dead," Patience whispered.
Will smiled. "I know," he said. He reached out as if to touch her cheek; she recoiled from him and shook her head. So he sat back, making no effort to conceal his disappointment, and began to teach. "Each part of the triune soul has its desires. The passion has the desires of pleasure and survival and the avoidance of pain. Those who are slaves to passion are the ones we see as hedonists or cowards or addicts or drunks, the ones we pity or despise. And these slaves think that their passion is themselves. I want this drink. I want to breathe. Their identity is in their needs. And to control them is easy. You simply control their pleasure or their pain."
She smiled. "I learned this in the cradle. People who are that easy to control, though, aren't worth controlling."
So," he said. "They're the weakest. Are you one of them?"
"When he calls me, I can hardly think of anything else but the need for him. Even when I remember what he looks like, from the gebling memories within me, even when I should loathe him, he makes me want him, want his children."
"You came through Tinker's Wood when he didn't want you to."
"If he had really wanted to stop me, he could have."
"I say he couldn't. Because you long ago separated yourself from your body's desires."
She remembered the cold breeze from the unglazed window of her room. She nodded.
"So." He did not teach as Father did; there was no sense of triumph when she bent before his argument. He merely went on. "The second part of the triune soul, the memory--it's More difficult. It has another kind of desire, one that is born in us as surely as the need to breathe, but because it is never satisfied, we don't know that it exists. For a moment, between breaths, we don't need to breathe, so we recognize the need to breathe when it returns."
“But this one is never gone, so we never notice it."
"Yes. Yes, you see--our memory can't hold everything. Can't hold every vision we see, every sequence of events that happened to us, everything we read, everything we hear about. It's too much. If we actually had to do that, we'd be insane before we left our infancy. So we choose. The things that are important. We remember only what matters. And we remember it in certain orders, in patterns that mean things together. In daytime, the sun is up; and all daytime becomes one day, and all nighttime becomes one night--we don't have to remember every day to remember the idea of day. But we -don't just remember this--we remember the why. It is daytime because the sun is up. Or the sun is up because it is daytime. You see? We don't remember randomly. Everything is connected by threads of cause."
"I'm not one of the Wise," said Patience. "Maybe the Wise understand the cause of everything, but I don't."
"But that's just it, that's just where the hunger comes. Every shred of experience that we remember comes as a story--a series of events that are connected by the pushes and pulls of cause. And we believe this story, of how everything is causally connected, without questioning it. I did this because. I did this in order to. And this is the world we live in, this pattern of events that cause each other. It becomes the framework by which we remember everything. But some things come along that don't fit."
"Not just some things."
"The weak-minded never notice it, Lady Patience. Everything fits for them, because they simply don't remember the things that don't belong. They never happened, the memory is gone. But for those who live in the mind, the places that don't fit, they don't disappear. They become a terrible hunger in the mind. Why, they shout. Why, why, why. And you can't be content until you know the connection. Even if it means breaking apart all the network that existed before. Once there was a time when mankind was locked on a single planet, and they thought their star circled that planet, because that was all they saw. That was the evidence of their eyes. But there were some who looked closely, and saw that it didn't fit, and the why pressed upon them until they had an answer. And when it all fit, they were able to send starships to worlds like this."
"Every child asks why," said Patience.
"But most children stop asking," said Will. "They finally get a system that works well enough. They have enough stories to account for everything they care about, and anything their stories can't handle, they ignore."
"The priests say that the self is in the memory--that we are what we remember doing."
"That's what they say."
"But I remember doing the acts of hundreds of Heptarchs, and a few geblings, too. Are they part of myself?"
"You see the problem as few people see it," said Will. "The self isn't in the memory, only the story we believe about ourselves. It can also be revised. It's constantly being revised. We see what it was we did, and we make up a story to account for it, and believe the story, and think that we understand ourself."
"Except the dwelfs, who can't hold long memories in their conscious minds."
"Yes."
"So what did you tell Heffiji--that she had no soul?"
"Only that her soul had no story. Because ourself is something else."
She knew what he would say; it was clear to her now.
"The will, of course. It's strange, Will, that you're named for the thing that you think is most important. Or did you decide it was important because it was your name?
"Will wasn't the name I was born with. I took that name the day Reck looked at me and said, 'Who are you?' "
"What's the desire of the will, then? You said all three parts of the soul had their desire." 
"The will makes only a simple choice, and it's already made. Your whole life is nothing but acting out the choice that defines who you really are."
"What's that?"
"The choice between good and evil."
She let him see her disappointment. "All this talk, and we come to that?"
"I'm not talking about the choice between killing people and not killing people, or between stealing and not stealing. Sometimes killing a person is evil. Sometimes killing a person is good. You know that."
‘Which is why I decided not to care about good and evil a long time ago."
"No. You decided not to care about legal and illegal."
"I decided there wasn't any absolute good and there wasn't any absolute evil. You just said the same thing."
"No I didn't," said Will.
"You said sometimes killing is good and sometimes it's evil."
"So. Killing isn't absolute. But now, when you go to Unwyrm, what's wrong with doing what he wants? What's wrong with you having his children?"
"Because I don't want to."
“Why? You know he'll give you pleasure. And your children--they'll be human, perfectly human, only stronger and smarter, wiser and quicker, and they'll no doubt have a perfect connection between their minds, all of them like Unwyrm combined with the best human traits. You'll be the mother of the master race. The most magnificent intelligent beings ever created. The next step in human evolution. Why don't you desire it?"
"I don't know," she said.
"If you don't know, then at the crucial moment, when you are with him, and all your desire is for him, you still won't know. You'll still refuse, but perhaps not with all your strength. And it'll take all your strength to resist him, I promise you."
"Come with me," she said. "Kill him for me."
"I'll come with you, if I can. And I'll kill him, if I can. But I think I won't be able to. I think there's only one person who'll ever come close enough to hurt him, to stop him."
"Then tell me. What is it I need to know?"
"It's simple. Nothing exists except in relation to something else. An atom is not an atom. It doesn't exist, except in relation to other atoms. If it never responded to anything else, it would not exist. All existence is like that--utterly isolated pieces that only come into existence in their interaction with other pieces. Human beings too. We don't exist except in relation to the other events of the world. Everything we do, everything we are depends on our responses to other events, and other events' responses to us,"
"I knew that."
"You didn't know that. It's so obvious that no one knows it. If nothing you did caused any change in the world outside, and nothing in the world outside caused any change in you, then you wouldn't know there was a world outside, and it wouldn't know you existed, and so it would be meaningless to speak of your existence at all.
So your existence, all our existence, depends on every piece, every person in the universe behaving according to certain set patterns. The system. The order in which everything exists. The laws that bind atoms and molecules are very firm. They have no freedom to vary, because as soon as they vary, they cease to be. But life--ah, there the freedom begins. And we who think we are intelligent, we are the freest of all. We make our own patterns and change them as we like. We build systems and orders and tear them down. But you'll notice that none of our choices have any effect whatever on the way that atoms and molecules behave. Just as we have no idea what any particular molecule is doing, they have no notion of what we're doing. We can't change their order at all. We can use it, but we can't break down their system and cause them to wink out of existence."
"I suppose that's true. We can burn wood, but the atoms that are torn from certain molecules combine again with others, and the system hangs together."
"Exactly. So we can't do good or evil to most of the universe. Only to other living things. Mostly to each other. Because the systems of human beings are ours to control. They're every bit as real as the universe itself, and they are what gives us our existence--but we can manipulate them. We can change the systems that create the terms of our life. And we do change those systems, according to the single simple choice of our will."
"What's the choice?"
"It arises from the desire of the will. And the desire of the will is simple. To grow."
"I don't want to grow."
"Every living thing has this same desire. Patience. Angel touched on it, in his childish way, when he spoke of people who own things. That's the most pathetic way people have of growing. The way Sken makes this boat part of herself--it makes her larger. Eating .also makes her larger."
She smiled. "You're being ridiculous now."
"I'm not. Kings also make themselves larger, because their kingdom is part of themself. Parents make themselves larger through their children. Some few people, though, have such a powerful hunger that they can't be satisfied until their self includes everything alive."
"The King's House is all the world," murmured Patience.
"What did you say?"
"Something my father taught me."
"Oh."
"So, is it good or evil to desire to be larger?"
"Neither. It's how you choose to grow larger. The system lives on sacrifice. No order could exist in which every person in it received everything he desired all the time. The system that gives us our existence depends on people making sacrifices. I give up something I desire, so that others can receive some of what they desire. In turn, they give up something they want, so I can have some of what I want. Every human society depends on that simple principle."
As always, her mind raced ahead, trying to solve the problem before it had to be explained to her. "So you're saying that good people sacrifice everything, and evil people sacrifice nothing."
"Not at all. I'm saying that good people sacrifice anything that is necessary in order to maintain the order that allows all others to exist, even if they have to sacrifice their own life. While evil people manipulate and force the sacrifice of any and every other person in order to wholly gratify their own hunger. Do you see the difference?"
"This is theology. Kristos was good, because he sacrificed his life."
"Don't speak foolishly, Patience, not to me. Everybody dies, and some have been martyrs in stupid causes. Kristos is Kristos because we believe he sacrificed himself for the whole world. For the largest order of all. He would not have died for anything less. Because his self had grown to include all the systems of mankind, and he acted to protect them all."
"Now I see how you became a heretic."
"Of course you do. These fools who think their Kristos will come to unite humans in perfect peace, without including the millions of geblings, gaunts, and dwelfs--it would not be good, because such a Kristos would be forcing the sacrfice of half the people of the world, to serve herself. So if Kristos is to be Kristos, she is willing to sacrifice anything to maintain the order that gives life to all."

Random Unrandom, The INTP/INTJ, Damn Good Poker Player, Sucks at Life.

So I feel like a shit. My life is so scattered all over right now and crazy drama shit to work through, and has been for a while. I know this. Things come up like hey move on be happy find love, over and over, and I'm over here like, don't you get how fucked up shit is? I don't want to make a mess of other people's lives. To me that's like hey sure I know what a fucking mess I am but sure I'll be the idealistic romantic, fuck that I'm bringing shit tons of baggage and mess into your life. I get it, everyone wants to be happy. So do I but at the same time I feel like, is it going to make me happy to start a relationship when I haven't officially ended my marriage, healed from the damage, or got my shit together to be in a healthy place to start anything? No one needs broken. This isn't about any specific person this is about the fact that I know where I am at this point, and I don't get how it is I can NOT disappoint people while also not making what feels like a wrong decision that affects another person's life and more than possibly not in a good way. Since my status has been separated, I have had more than a few people hit on me, and there's nothing wrong with that in and of itself, I just feel like it is wrong for me to let that into my life at this point, which would pretty much make me feel selfish and inconsiderate of how my life affects another persons. Why is it that human relations to each other are so damn complex? I like simple black and white answers, not this grey ground where things don't seem to make simple sense.

The curse of being an INTJ, we over analyze EVERYTHING and so tend to stay locked in that analysis storm instead of ever moving in any direction, due to all the possibilities that we see, both good and bad. Our brains work on this basis of seeing all angles of all things and the implications of it all, and this freezes us like deer in headlights running through all that information, immobilized to move any way at all due to the uncertainty of every move.

I am a person that wants to always know the right move before I move at all. LIFE does not work that way and I have never been able to simply accept that without considerable mental effort to forcibly change my thinking. I'm the type that a birthday surprise party would scare the fuck out of me for the first 10 minutes, I'd say something like thanks thats sweet but my brain would be going how do I get control of this situation for half an hour before relaxing and saying fuck it. I have got to learn to balance this better.

I hate it, I do it with jobs, people, hell I do it with going out for a beer, constantly weighing every bit of information that is just natural to my perception. I can't get into a conversation with a new person without being aware of everything they say, whether or not it means what they say, what am I missing that isn't being said, and am I correct or incorrect on reading between the lines, and how does it all affect me and how does it all affect them, constantly, sometimes I want an off switch to my brain, just STOP with the incessant data analysis. Learning to just be and shut that down is hard. I have noticed people tell me just stop thinking and let it go, which instead of making me stop thinking and let it go then starts the whole switch of all the positives and negatives IF I just stop and let it go. God, please reprogram me.

The up side? I process information like a mother fucker, I literally process shit too fast for worded thought so most of my brain works on insticutual concept instead of worded thought, which makes it fast and easy in less complex situations.

Down side of that? I have to stop and figure out how to translate what I am thinking or feeling into worded thought to communicate, and feel like I don't communicate well.

Any other iNTJ's deal with this on a regular basis?

BDSM Test

93% Bondage receiver True

86% Submissive True

64% Experimentalist True

55% Primal (Prey) True

54% Non-monogamist Currently non monogamist, but with THE RIGHT PARTNER COULD DEFINATELY BE MONOGAMOUS.

45% Vanilla I appreciate both vanilla and kinky intimacy. Depends on my mood, partner, circumstances, hormone levels and many other factors.

43% Switch Generally I am NOT a dominant. I do at times enjoy the idea of giving completely to my partner with them helpless so as to have the full enjoyment and experience. I do also have normal boundaries.

42% Slave WITH THE RIGHT PARTNER

41% Bondage giver Again, only in the aspect of a more fully giving experience to my partner.

38% Masochist Very surprised at this number, unsure, inexperienced and hesitant.

37% Brat YEP

30% Exhibitionist Less an exhibitionist than I am comfortable with myself in some regards, I did after all spend 10 years as a nude model, which naturally resulted in certain personal confidence and comfort level. I simply am not bent out of shape over nudity. Working with 300-400 male and female nude models for my career for 10 years and being nude around them was simply a part of my job and became simply unremarkable.

28% Dominant This one is iffy. Outside of the bedroom I am dominant but also naturally submit, through love and compersion, to a deeply involved partner. For example I did notice that when, for instance, M. would comment in passing that he was going to get coffee after his shower, I would find myself half way to the kitchen to provide coffee. I LATER realized that this was a completely subconscious natural reaction of love to his comment. However, I still am somewhat the alpha female in some regard. This is very subjective and circumstancial. In the bedroom, I feel that I lean towards at least a 98% submissive once limits are set.

20% girl/boy Not entirely sure what this means. I have a strong aversion to age play though.

19% Master/Mistress Again, just typical of alpha female personality.

19% Pet Really kind of personally confused on how I feel or where I stand on this.

17% Voyeur Depends on the situation.

15% Daddy/Mommy Nah, not my thing. I'd have put this at a 0%.

13% Primal (Hunter) Ok, sounds legit.

10% Sadist Both true, and also rationally have an aversion to this based on reason and reality.

10% Owner I have no desire to own anyone, in any way. I got this because of "do you take a nurturing and guiding role", but this for me is an act of service and love, and I have no association for it mentally or emotionally in a control aspect, it is simply an innate service thing for me.

9% Brat tamer I have some personal boundaries, yep.

7% All-Rounder What is this?

4% Degradation receiver NOT cool with degredation.

4% Ageplayer NOT cool with age play.

0% Degradation giver Again, NOT cool with degredation.

Calling On God, Does He Care, Is He Listening, Will He Answer (The Scripture List to Combat Your Heart and Head's Hopeless Zone) 10/13/2016

I tend to struggle with emotional issues, and tonight I was struggling with some things and while lying in bed, was crying and praying. God knows my heart, and I know He understands what all is up, and I don't want to get into it all here, that is between me and Him.

He kind of lifted me up emotionally enough and I ended up out of bed, tended to my son who wanted a snack at 4 am, and then sat down.

I have a thing for Zondervan Life Application Study Bibles, and I found a free download of one for my ebook reader earlier, which is awesome because mine are ALWAYS wearing out, the first one I have I got when I first started seeking Christ, and was carried around for so long that it had to be duct taped on the binding and is pretty much unusable, well maybe not really but it's more of a sentimental life landmark these days.

The second copy I got now has no cover on it.

Now I have this digital copy, which allows you to put in notecards.

So before I even had any idea what I was doing, without any thought, I googled Calling On the Name of The Lord.

Turns out there is this whole LIST of verses that I came upon and reading through them, I started typing them down, one after the other.

Getting part way down the list, my emotional funk has somewhat lifted, and as it started to lift, this one stuck out to me:

Jeremiah 33:3
'Call to Me and I will answer you, and I will tell you great and mighty things, which you do not know.'

(This is what happened to me tonight, which is how I found this list of verses for this notecard. I was crying and calling out to the Lord. My favorite for tonight.)

I continued down the list, and my funk continues to lift.

I came upon this one, which prompted me to write this Facebook Post.

Romans 10:12-14

For there is no distinction between Jew and Greek; for the same Lord is Lord of all, abounding in riches for all who call on Him; for "WHOEVER WILL CALL ON THE NAME OF THE LORD WILL BE SAVED." How then will they call on Him in whom they have not believed? How will they believe in Him whom they have not heard? And how will they hear without a preacher?

The thought that passed through my head while typing (which was the Lord talking) was "should post this to Facebook, the whole list, so that others dealing with things that are similar or relevant have this same list I have given you"

So, here it is:

1 Chronicles 16:8, also Psalm 105:1
Give thanks unto the Lord, call upon his name, make known his deeds among the people.

Psalm 86:5
For You, Lord, are good, and ready to forgive, and abundant in mercy to all those who call upon You.

Psalm 86:7
In the day of my trouble I will call upon You, for You will answer me.

Psalm 116:2
Because He has inclined His ear to me, Therefore I will call upon Him as long as I live.

Job 27:10
Will he delight himself in the Almighty? Will he always call on God?

Isaiah 65:1
"I was sought by those who did not ask for Me; I was found by those who did not seek Me. I said, 'Here I am, here I am,' To a nation that was not called by My name.

Zephaniah 3:9
"For then I will restore to the peoples a pure language, That they may call on the name of the Lord, To serve Him with one accord.

Psalm 50:15
"Call upon Me in the day of trouble; I will deliver you, and you shall glorify Me."

Lamentations 3:55
I called on Your name, O Lord, From the lowest pit.

2 Samuel 22:4, also Psalm 18:3
I will call upon the Lord, who is worthy to be praised' So shall I be saved from my enemies.

Psalm 4:1
Hear me when I call, O God of my righteousness! You have relieved me in my distress' Have mercy on me, and hear my prayer.

Psalm 17:6-9
I have called upon You, for You will hear me, O God; Incline Your ear to me, and hear my speech.

Show your marvelous lovingkindness by Your right hand, O Lord You who save those who trust in You From those who rise up against them.

Keep me as the apple of Your eye;
Hide me under the shadow of Your wings,

Psalm 18:6
In my distress I called upon the Lord, And cried out to my God; He heard my voice from His temple, And my cry came before Him, even to His ears.

Psalm 27:7-13
Hear, O Lord, when I cry with my voice!
Have mercy also upon me, and answer me.

When You said, "Seek My face,"
My heart said to You, "Your face, Lord, I will seek."

Do not hide Your face from me;
Do not turn Your servant away in anger;
You have been my help;
Do not leave me nor forsake me, O God of my salvation.

When my father and my mother forsake me, Then the Lord will take care of me.

Psalm 28:1-2
To You I will cry, O Lord my Rock:
Do not be silent to me,
Lest, if You are silent to me,
I become like those who go down to the pit.

Hear the voice of my supplications
When I cry to You,
When I lift up my hands toward Your holy sanctuary.

Psalm 55:16
As for me, I will call upon God, and the Lord shall save me.

Psalm 86:3
Be mercilful to me, O Lord, For I cry to You all day long.

Psalm 91:15
He shall call upon Me, and I will answer him
I will be with him in trouble;
I will deliver him and honor him.

Psalm 120:1
In my distress I called to the Lord, and He heard me.

Isaiah 58:9
Then you shall call, and the Lord will answer;
You shall cry, and He will say, 'Here I am.'
"If you take away the yoke from your midst,
The pointing of the finger, and speaking wickedness,

Isaiah 65:24
"It shall come to pass,
That before they call, I will answer;
And while they are still speaking, I will hear.

Jeremiah 33:3
'Call to Me and I will answer you, and I will tell you great and mighty things, which you do not know.'

Joel 1:19
O Lord, to You I cry out;
For fire has devoured the open pastures, and a flame has burned all the trees of the field.

Zechariah 13:9
I will bring the one-third through the fire,
Will refine them as silver is refined,
And test them as gold is tested.
They will call on My name,
And I will answer them.
I will say, 'This is My people';
And each one will say, 'The Lord is my God'"

Acts 2:21
And it shall come to pass
That whoever calls on the name of the Lord
Shall be saved.'

Romans 10:12-14
For there is no distinction between Jew and Greek; for the same Lord is Lord of all, abounding in riches for all who call on Him; for "WHOEVER WILL CALL ON THE NAME OF THE LORD WILL BE SAVED." How then will they call on Him in whom they have not believed? How will they believe in Him whom they have not heard? And how will they hear without a preacher?

Psalm 99:6
Moses and Aaron were among His priests,
And Samuel was among those who called upon His name,
They called upon the Lord, and He answered them.

Numbers 14:14
and they will tell it to the inhabitants of this land. They have heard that You, Lord, are among these people; that You, Lord, are seen face to face and Your cloud stands above them, and You go before them in a pillar of cloud by day and in a pillar of fire by night.

Jonah 2:2
"I cried out the the Lord because of my affliction, And He answered me.
"Out of the belly of Sheol I cried,
And You heard my voice.

The point of this is that many of us face issues in life, from depression to illness to financial trouble, issues in our relationships, it doesn't really matter WHAT exactly those issues are for the purpose of this post.

No matter how we might feel like God's getting sick of hearing us, or God's not listening, or He's heard it all before from us, or He doesn't care, or He's not there for us, or He won't answer, or He's not in THIS storm with us, or He doesn't have an answer for us, or that we have to find the right words (see 65:24), yada yada so on and so forth, all the crap that comes against us when we need to feel connected, it's BULL.

Its our doubt and enemy lies.

The authority we look to is His word, not our doubt or enemy lies.

So now you have a decent sized list.
This is what you pull out when you get into that hopeless zone, the list to get half way through that will pound it into your brain "Yes I'm here" when you're heart and head want to convince you otherwise.

Journal Entry For M. Written August 2014

For M.

Journal Entry | about 1 year ago

January 2014 - Almost 30 years of carefully crafted steel shell and molten core came to nothing. In 3/4 of a second and one breath, everything changed. It's amazing how much power can be held in so little time, and such a silly trivial moment.

Hey.

3 letters, 3/4 of a second, one moment in time where you found a sliver of my mind not desperately digging ragged fingernails into a narrow ledge of shallow breath while my iron will held back the hell that had me by the throat.

The fact of the matter is, I had no expectations, at least not for you. Just some passing bit of nothing floating by one soul that saw nothing but scars in it's wake and the abyss before it.

3 letters to a few words, a few words to one conversation, everything in me on the floor and then nothing, silence, me sitting stunned and bottomed out. I think I had forgotten you were even there, on the other end of that fucking phone, the cold outside of your window sucking up the cold I had bared my teeth at for half a decade.

6 words and it all came down, like nothing. One steel core transformed to glass, with 6 words between 2 people that had probably never even been in the same damn CITY at the same damn time.

I had no expectations of you, you weren't ever supposed to be there at all.

"You need to get out of there. I'm in the car. Are you going to tell me where you are or do I have to drive around Lansing looking for you?"

It wasn't a question and I was no fool, a simple command and there was nothing left to stop you.

6 words turn to 6 hours of 4 words running through my head in an endless loop, "What are you doing?" "What are you doing?" "What are you doing?" "What are you doing?" "What are you doing?"

And there you were, black metal against a black sky in a cold night, blind and limitless, and such a fool.

What did you expect? I had no expectations of you, and you, you God damn bull headed stubborn Taures, incapable of connecting the possibility that the flow of your life could ever be out of step, stepped out into that cold night, liquid steel where you'd robbed mine away in 6 breaths, and now it was me that turned to ice.

Because you weren't supposed to be there, weren't supposed to exist.

I never expected anything of you, but I damn sure didn't expect you either.
Almost 20 years ago I formed, as all small girls do, a fairy tale, the image of a man crafted in the mind. refined with time, illusion.

I could have believed anything else, and I felt my core freeze, heard the laugh of my soul in disbelief, of course it would be you, 6 words of course it would be you, who else could have said them? My soul laughing at the insanity of it while my mind screamed for me to run and my body froze to that winter's ground.

You silly stupid boy. What did you expect? You carried the deepest core of me casually, without any idea.

What you didn't see was that you stepped into that cold night, lit a fire in your mind and let it consume you, consume me in a perfect terrible trap.

Because for everything you took, as only you could, whatever tie binds us can't break the ones that bind me, your heat of your hand on my neck can't break the cold chains of fate for me.

I am sorry. I am sorry that you broke yourself against me, desperately trying to break me free. I could have taken the cost of you, what I can't take now is that I am still frozen on the sidewalk, "Run", "This one will destroy you", "What are you doing?"

"Run." "You destroy him." "What have you done?"

"Run. You need to get out of there. Who will save you from the price you pay for trying to save me?"

Sanctuary, Solitude, and Journeys Through A Garden (Written 2005)

Sanctuary, Solitude, and Journeys Through A Garden

Erotica | about 1 year ago

(Mini Poetry book I wrote in high school).

SANCTUARY, SOLITUDE, AND JOURNEYS THROUGH A GARDEN
AN ALLEGORICAL WORK
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Dedication

I’m sure that all authors have those people in their lives that make them who they are, those infinitely valuable souls whom they could not have made it through without. This book is for that wonderful supreme Father who sits on His heavenly throne and puts up with me, sharing the ever-present love, humor, support, comfort, discipline, guidance, understanding, and everything else that has no name that I know of besides love,butmeans everything to me. God is not a layer-of-laws. His purpose is to guide, father, andbefriend. Find Him. He is the spice of life. Thank you, my love.

For Juan and Anjelica Gonzales, Amy White, and all the others without whom I could not live, for their support, encouragement, humor, comfort, love, and understanding means more to me than words can say. Thank you all for believing in me so much that I began to believe in myself as well. Thank you, Juan, for keeping me insane and bleeding even when they tried to fix me permanent.

To Anjelica – pink ducks live on!

For my wonderful family: Douglass, Tracey, Jon, Mary, David, Mom, Dad, and everyone else. Thank you for everything; I love you guys. I can’t tell you that enough.

For Lynn Butterfield, who has helped me get through life in general, always knew just what to say, and is the best friend a person could ever have.

For Terri, without whom I would never have been able to take this from its messy little draft form and transform it into something beautiful.

For the millions of people who have helped me walk this treacherous path of life with dignity, encouraging me to the end to stay strong and not give up.

Mostly, for Linda Rebney. Without you, this would never have been done. You are a superb teacher, and I owe all of this to you. I never would have solidified the writer in me without you. Thank you, a thousand times over, thank you.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Preface

All works were created solely by the author except for Mina’s Song, a poem written by Victor Baron.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
An Explanation of Subheadings

Spirals are longer pieces that flow like smooth rivers.

Soul Blood is the collection of pieces that came out of nowhere in particular, but have meaning and make sense nonetheless.

Journeys are pieces that have a purpose that illustrates some aspect of life.

Chaos poems are rushes of pure raw emotion that probably make no apparent sense to the reader, yet have infinite meaning to the author.

Reds are miscellaneous but share a common color, a generalization for the three pieces that were left as loners to drift in the society of the previously mentioned subheadings.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Mina’s Song

The day has passed beyond our power.
The petals close upon the flower.
The light is failing in this hour
Of days last waning breath.

The blackness of the night surrounds
The distant souls of stars now found,
Far from this world to which we’re bound
Of sorrow, fear, and death.

Sleep, love; forever sleep.
Your soul the night will keep.
Embrace the darkness deep.
Sleep, love; forever sleep.

The gathering darkness takes our souls,
Embracing us in chilling folds
Deep in a mistress’s void that holds
Our fate within her hands.

Dream, warrior, of the dark above,
And feel the sweet redemption of
The night’s consort, and of her love
For those within her bands.

Sleep, love; forever sleep.
Your soul the night will keep.
Embrace the darkness deep.
Sleep, love; forever sleep.

We close our eyes, our minds at rest;
Submit our wills to her behest;
Our weaknesses to her confessed,
And to her will we bend.

The strength of silence fills the sky-
Its depth beyond both you and I;
Into its arms our souls will fly
Where fear and sorrows end.

Sleep, love; forever sleep.
Your soul the night will keep.
Embrace the darkness deep.
Sleep, love; forever sleep.

-Victor Baron
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Spirals
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Mind Trip

Watch and learn.
Bleed and burn.

Sane’s a mind trap.
Here’s a mind trip.

Boom boom electric.
This storm’s eccentric.

Comfortable chaos.
Calculated payoffs.

Welcome to my little black box.
You’ll find you can’t break through these locks.

Close your eyes and hold on tight.
We’re about to take one hell of a flight.

Listen to my words as they steal your breath.
Watch as my thoughts lead your death.

You can’t kill me; I’m already dead.
I’m the demon that’s invading your head.

My smooth cold rhythm became your addiction.
Your curiosity became your conviction.

Schizo goddess
Makes your life a mess

Choose your fate in a little glass vile.
Succumb to the charms of my seductive smile.

Fall into a deep dark dreamy sleep
And don’t you move your eyes to weep.

Wake in a room of soft red light.
Suffer over the loss of this fight.

Inhale, exhale your last breath
And rest forever in the arms of death.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Manufactured Personality
Introduced to Society

Teach your children not to see
That men say how this life should be.

Acknowledge not that danger lies
Ahead when sharp eye’s mind implies

That these are only mortal men,
And new life’s no less than they were then,

But teach it still in unspoken ways
By filling up your children’s days

With answers to their question’s query,
Even as your heart grows weary.

“Think not outside this prison box
With it’s impenetrable locks,

For new minds were must persecute,
And the non-conformist execute.

Allow them to think that they are free,
But freedom means not to be free.

We’ll teach them only what we choose,
Ensuring that we will not loose,

For there can be no rebellious song
If we ne’er teach them something’s wrong.”

It bears the title cheap conformity-
This directed society.

Teach them only what few see fit;
Mind’s-eye candle ne’er lit.

Watch as their lives slowly unfold
Caught tightly in a predestines hold,

And hear the wing beats as legions fly
To stifle their forbidden cry.

Hide their differences safely away
In support of this glorious new day,

And all too willingly them enable
To accept their history as fable.

Manufactured personality
Introduced to society.

Stop the rivers’ free flow
Lest some wandering eye come to know

That like that river, we were meant to be
Wild and joyous and infinitely free.

Allow no mind to long meditate
Upon subjects small and great,

And let no connecting ties be drawn
Between the dusk and breaking dawn.

Stifle the robin redbreast’s song
As it resounds clear and strong,

And drown out the shatter of the heart
As individuality rips apart.

All nights become a single night-
Each breaking dawn melts into a single sight

As all watch the lone decisive fire
Of white-hot lightning’s last desire,

And upon the wings of a single lash
Burns this disgrace to contra-ash.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Soul Blood
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Damnation Way (1)

Borne of shadows
And darkened folds,

A realm of secrets
Ne’er to be told.

Take up the hand
At your right side

And on the wings of dark angels
Into forever we’ll ride.

You’ll see your life pass
In the blink of an eye;

Should you make the choice
You’ll never die.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Damnation Way (2)

Fly with me
Into darkness unknown.

Kiss the storm
As it’s fire is shown.

Hear the whispers
Of souls long lost.

Watch as dreams
By demons are tossed.

Spiral down
Into sweet oblivion.

Feel yourself
Loose sight of the sun.

Listen to the thunder’s
Scream so near.

Quiver under the caress
Of the angel’s tear.

Wake in a field
Of silver streams,

And know once again
That nothing’s what it seems.

I leave you now
With questions infinity

For your soul has been touched
By the hands of divinity.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Journeys
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Sanctuary,
Solitude, and
Journeys
Through A Garden
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Part 1
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
He had spent many long nights resting in the comforting embrace of the moon, calm and peaceful with the assurance that he was alone in the garden, untouchable. He had once read a passage somewhere that he felt knew him very well.

‘Solitude, extended for a sufficiently long period of time, becomes its own reward and nourishment. A weary soul’s voice aloud can become repugnant to its own ears, and for years these had been the only voices he had heard and spoken back to, until they had become his own voice.’

It was not surprising, then, that the girl’s presence
in the garden had not gone unnoticed, for over time the solitude had developed in him a keen awareness of this place. He had felt her presence long before she had come into view, a slight rise in the electricity of the air that was carried to him in the gentle caress of a warm breeze.

Had he not been slightly stunned by the idea of another being’s presence, he would have killed her—a thought that led his curiosity on a fine wire, for he was at once flooded with resistance to the idea. Who was this woman who had somehow, if only for an instant, tamed some small part of him into wanting to know more about her?

He watched as she made her way along the small path that led to the small pool of water in the middle of the garden, following in silence, until she came to rest at a low bench made of marble below a trellis covered in ivy. She seamed unsure of what to do next and turned around quite suddenly, startling him.

He heard her slight intake of breath at the surprise of almost colliding with him just as he stumbled backward, her recoil and his knocking them both down. For a long moment they sat, dazed, and he fully expected her to scream and beat the living hell out of him in fear. He sat absolutely still, ready to dodge the oncoming assault, and was not unpleasantly surprised when it did not come. She only sat there, quite still, gaping at him as if she had never before seen another human being.

When he was sufficiently sure that he was in no immediate danger from her, he quietly rose and took a step toward her, extending his hand to help her to her feet.

She did not shy away from him, but remained exactly as she was, as if sculpted of ivory. Her eyes went from his face to his hand, then back again, then returned to his hand as if she had no idea what to do with it. Then, tentatively, she took his hand in hers, watching him all the while in mystified wonder as if she were watching some magnificently wild creature poised on the bank of an ethereal stream, and stood.

His senses were at once assaulted with a thousand different triggers, and he almost fainted from the overwhelming impact of it all. There was a hint of lavender and eucalyptus about her, and her hand was unusually steady, self-assured. Her eyes were a deep green, a striking contrast to his icy blue and purple silver blend. Her skin was the color of vanilla cream with a hint of caramel, her hair long and slightly disarrayed, as if made of moonlight. She wore a simple light-blue dress that fit her small frame well, and she seemed infinitely young and innocent, as if she had only just come into the world, and had not yet seen its dangers.

She was about seventeen, and she was regarding him with the same wonder that he felt. Suddenly he felt self-conscious, and dropped her hand. A small frown played on her lips, and she once again seemed unsure of what to do. After a moment, she held her hands in front of her, turning her head slightly and dropping her gaze away from him, only to return it a moment later.

Finally, he found his voice and gently apologized for startling her. She flushed, as if a small child caught doing something wrong, and modestly told him that there was no need.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know that there was anyone here.”

“Who are you? he asked, and she could hear a mix of curiosity, distrust, and something she could not quite name in his voice.

“My friends call me Ress.”

“Why are you here?” His eyes narrowed and his tone was demanding, dominant, powerful, and indignant.

“This place, I’ve never seen anything like it. Who are you?”

“Rune.”

“The garden. Is it yours?”

“ You could say that. No one comes here. Until you.” He raised an eyebrow, and said with indignation: “Do you often make a habit of invading places where you don’t belong?”

He smiled.

“No, of course not; you spoke of friends, so this is new to you.”

His voice was full of resentment, and she was reminded that she wasn’t welcome here.

“I’m sorry. I’ll go. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

For the first time it occurred to him that he wasn’t so sure that he wanted her to go. He had spoken too sharply, and he resented that. He felt violated, as if somehow, she had broken something by being here, and the confusion of the moment upset him even more. Who was she to question his security?
She was just past him when he turned to her again.

“I don’t like the idea that this place isn’t just mine. I had counted on this place being forgotten. I want to keep it that way.”

“I understand. I was never here.” She smiled gently. Rune nodded and watched as she left.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Part 2
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
He rose from the depths of sleep and uncurled himself slowly, as if he woke for the first time, and found the rooftops overlooking the city. There he sat in the icy wind and rain, ice and fire that he opened himself to, a gift that seemed his and his alone in the form of a storm. He had once read somewhere that the king’s house was all the world. Indeed, he felt like a king, for the king’s house is all the world, and he felt all the world’s joys and sorrows as if they were his own, the joys and sorrows of the god of storms.

Tonight, he was restless, and his soul searched for something that he did not know he searched for, but he felt it all the same. Soon, he drifted on the wind until he found his garden, and his thoughts turned back to Ress. For reasons he did not know, he tore through the paths until he came to the center of the garden, and came to a dead halt. Even his heartbeat seemed to silence in his desperation. She was not there and he did not know whether to weep in heartache or flood with relief. He did not know whether he wanted her there or not. And so, he left again, because his sanctuary was a sanctuary no more.

Indeed, Pandora herself had been the cause of his discomfort, unleashing all the torments of hell upon him; Pandora in the form of the innocent vanilla cream caramel queen of winter roses.

He was so emerged in his thoughts that the sudden realization that she was near took his breath away, too late realizing his carelessness. He supposed he should have taken her life in the garden, for he could not bear the turmoil that she had wrought upon his world.

Before he could question what he was doing, he had found her, and spoke.

“May I…walk a while…talk a while…stalk a while…on this beautiful pathway called life?

“Do as you will, but don’t expect too much of me. I got nasty, nasty habits and that’s all you’re gonna get.”

“I don’t remember what song that’s from.”

“Neither do I.”

“Why do you use it, then?”

“Because it fits.”

His eyes narrowed as his gaze fell over her in a penetrating stare that excited and frightened her.

“What do you see when you’re out here?”

“Cheap conformity. They are…bubbles of blood on a barbed wire strand that stretches from this life to the next, and we have not reached the end of it yet.”

“Do you always speak in quotes?”

“Only when it suits me.”

“The story of a woman’s life.”

“Why so cold?”

He leered at her like a great jungle cat ready to pounce.

“Because it suits me.”

“Is everyone an object of your ice, or is this my own special treatment?”

“Maybe you’re not the only one the song speaks of.”

“So I’m just a scapegoat for your nasty habits?”

“No. A scapegoat is innocent of the crime that he is being punished of. He is the victim of displacement.”

She shivered under the rage emanating from his body in silent, thunderous pulses.

“And what was my crime?”

“Knowing that I exist. Being where you had no business being. Violating my sanctuary. Defiling my temple of solitude. Do you want to know your biggest offense?”

Her own rage was quickly rising.

“Try me.”

“Allowing me to walk a while and talk a while, for now that I have stalked a while, I’ll send you on that beautiful pathway of death.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Chaos Poems
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The Rebellion of Breaking Glass

Decisive Silence
Disobeying Gravity
Stillness
Freeze Frame
Solid Fountains
Tattered Memories Ablaze
Pieces Momentarily Suspended
Paints the Portrait of Life
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Queen of Winter Roses

Whirlwind
Stable Chaos
Liquid Fire
Fear
Winning Bets
Salt and Flesh
Music
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Red
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Elemental Lover

I feel him wake
deep inside me,
my lover,
and rise to greet the night
with his fire-eyes that
reflect his heartbeat
in the mirror made of sky.
I melt into him,
like lowering myself
into steaming hot water
and feel the vibrations
of his trembling breath.
My veins flow like
rivers induced with his soul
as he raises his face to
gaze upon his crown of stars
that is no longer there.
He reaches out to caress my face
with fingers made of his breath,
and I breathe deeply and
become saturated by it.
He speaks,
and the sound of his voice
crashes out like cymbals
in waves of shaking sound.
We fly swiftly
through mother night
and fall;
asleep within his center,
yet wistfully awake,
and are caught by silver clouds
that wrap us in their misty embrace,
so that we may settle back
to where we began
and sleep until
my lover wakes again,
spending the time soaking
in this gift he gives
so freely
without reservation.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Crimson Tidal Wave

The blood of a thousand roses
Flows as a river of wine.
The death of the stars in heaven
Gives birth to these fears of mine.

Rooms of gold and silver
Inta-vie do save,
To ride on the wings of demons
O’er a crimson tidal wave.

Blackened flash of fury
Clash like cymbals in the night
As rhyme and reason under fear
Upon wings of red alight.

Pray fly fast the soul
To nearest arms await,
To unfold a more hellish scene
That Chaos could create.

A dry tongue screams forever
As the throat rips and tears
Under the intensity
Of the pleas that fall on deaf ears.

Turning corners blindly,
Not knowing what awaits,
As fools fly the roads
That lay foundation for our fates.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Dreams

Lay you down
On a carpet of thick red feathers
That sting
Like needles
Into your cool, smooth flesh
And breathe
Misty ice
That burns like
White-hot lightning
That courses through your veins
To jumpstart your heart.
Close your eyes
And fold your arms
Inside crimson-stained satin
To sleep
Beneath the surface
Of reality.
© Copyright 2008 Dovetail (dovetail at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
Dovetail has granted Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates non-exclusive rights to display this work.