the spectrum heart cathedral system

hungrylikethewolfie:

No but guys, GUYS, we need to talk about how important this scene is. Because the commonly accepted lore about unicorns is that they are so good and pure that they’ll only appear to young virginal girls. Because Molly Grue is a middle-aged woman who has been living with bandits for most of her life and is as far from innocent and virginal as you’re likely to get. Because she’s so angry that this creature, embodying everything that society tells her she’s lost, everything she’s thrown away through her own choices, is here now when all that The Unicorn represents is long since behind her. Because she knows, in a way that only someone who’s been steeped in an oppressive system her entire life can ever know, that she’s missed her chance and doesn’t deserve to be seeing a unicorn now.
And you know what? The Unicorn doesn’t [care] about her virginity, about her supposed loss of innocence and purity. She’s not repelled by Molly being older, being experienced, being a full human person. None of that has ever mattered to unicorns, only to the people telling stories about them. Not only does she step in to physically comfort her here, but before long this bandit’s wife becomes her friend, closer to her in most ways than Schmendrick.
This story is [honestly] revolutionary, you guys, and I just have a lot of feelings about it.

This was my favorite movie as a child (along with Dragonheart), but I never understood this scene. Not until this post. And I really, really needed to hear this.

...I've had an ancient plush unicorn in my room since I was 3. Her name is Unisalia. She was my #1 go-to gal when I was upset as a child, and now she works with my boss. So for two decades this unicorn has been a shockingly constant presence in my life, this silent old guardian.
The problem? My room has been a reservoir of terror and pain far too many times over the years. Yes, it's been a place of creativity and daydreams and sunlight, but it's also been a place of blood and panic and crushing despair as well, especially over the past decade.
That unicorn has seen me beaten, has seen me try to take my own life, has seen me fight tooth and nail with both invisible demons and the voices in my head. That unicorn has seen me begging God for deliverance with the words choking in my throat, has seen me bloodied and dead-eyed, has seen me used and defiled and treated as less than human. She knows that I had my virginity taken from me before I even knew it was a word.
And still, to this day, that unicorn lies at the foot of my bed, not thinking any less of me in spite of it all.
I've actually cried to her about it. "Why the hell do you stick around when I am effectively the antithesis of everything you represent, by this point?!" When I was incapable of seeing anything but a tar-stained horror in the mirror, something that all pure white things should run from, she disagreed. Nope, she was staying. That was all she'd say, as if that statement alone explained everything.
Now I guess it really did.
Maybe I did miss my chance. Maybe I don't deserve to be seeing her now, after all the other things I've beheld.
But, as the OP said, Unis really doesn't seem to care about that. She's here now, regardless of what I seem to have lost, regardless of what I will tearfully insist I've been reduced to. And she'll comfort me, even when I'm terrified that if I touch her, as something so allegedly impure, she'll disappear. But she doesn't.
...I think there's something pure and clear in all of us that never fades or dies, that unicorns can see, even if it's buried under years upon years of pain and fear and shame and self-hatred. And that's what draws them to people. It's not some elitist choosing of those who were lucky and protected enough to never be torn to bits. No, the unicorns will stand before kings and paupers, before saints and sinners, before virgins and whores, all the same... as long as we are willing, for even a second, to hope for that little glimmer within ourselves. If we can truly acknowledge that, even just for a fleeting moment, or if we can only mourn its alleged loss, for even a moment... I think that's what the unicorns are drawn to us by. They feel that we need them, as a reminder of some bigger and deeper truth, and in one way or another, they appear. And all we have to do is accept their presence. That's all.
Sorry for all the text. This just means a great deal to me.
Many sincere thanks to the OP for the clarification I've been seeking since my childhood.


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@ 12:45 PM

Dream for February 11th, 2014.
I was in SLC again, in some house I didn't recognize, but all my old friends were there (Q, Mel, KT, Xilats, etc.). I was feeling disastrously dissociative, and couldn't figure out how to speak very well. I wanted to know where I was going to sleep (apparently I had "just arrived" but no one had figured out lodging?), but as I was effectively mute, no one was paying attention to me, so I was just tailing Xilats. Either way, the ignorant actions of the people around me were causing me to get terribly switchy, and the "bad voices" started up. Sure enough, this started to happen-- it started to get harder and harder to front, and I felt as if I were possessed. I quickly ran up the nearest set of stairs, trying to get away from people in case the worst happened.
When I got to the top of the stairs, I practically collapsed on the landing, as some demonic voice was viciously trying to control the body and make us black out, but someone else inside was fighting them off the best they could. I don't know who they were, but through all that I could barely keep the body conscious from the strain. Then at one point, the demon-voice pinned the body to the floor (which used to happen in our teenage years IRL), and the voice who had been fighting them off actually cried for help, from me specifically. (That's... never happened before. Upon waking the significance of it just caught me in the heart.)
But I took over the body instantly at that, powered by that desire, and flipped the body around, posing like I was now pinning that demon down to the floor, keeping it from harming us (to a bystander I would have looked like I was wrestling a ghost). And I said, "don't you ever hurt the people in my headspace again, do you hear me?"
I can't remember the next thing that happened, but I ended up back downstairs and everyone was avoiding me like a freak, so I guess they had heard the fight upstairs. What I do remember is that Q punched me at one point? I think. He was fighting me and ended up knocking out one of my molars. It shocked me, and I promptly ended up bleeding everywhere, but I was so in disbelief of what had just happened that I couldn't move. Then I noticed I was bleeding over their rug (and getting dizzier by the second) so I asked for a towel or something, to stop the bleeding. However, people were actively turning around and leaving the room now when I approached them, even though I obviously needed help. I started to get very scared, as I was losing a lot of blood very fast. It quickly got to the point where I could barely walk or speak, and at one point I remember I really needed to lie down but I couldn't find a place in the house to do so. Right when I swore I was about to faint someone handed me a large blanket, and I remember thinking "should I stop the bleeding or lie down on it," and then I guess I did black out, because my memory cuts off very sharply right then.
The next thing I knew, I was lying in the back seat of a car, apparently being driven to the hospital by my mom. She made some sort of comment then, that she had been waiting for me to wake up, but she sounded very anxious and like she was avoiding mentioning something. I looked around as she spoke and unexpectedly found a journal of hers also in the back seat, so I flipped through it, hoping to find answers. Sure enough, that day's pages talked about how I had started dramatically "switching" upon her picking us up from the house-- meaning, I hadn't blacked out from blood loss, but because someone else had taken over! Apparently three "men" had come out-- Jeremiah, Knife, and one other unidentified but traumatized guy-- and she was concerned because she didn't know how to treat them correctly. She had spoken to all three of them at length though, I remember feeling this huge tug at my heart because I love my fellow System members, and from what she wrote, they were all terribly scared and distraught by the situation (not to mention Jerry and Knife are our two most softhearted men). I wanted to ask her about that, but was scared to-- after all, in the waking world, she denies us to our face, and is nowhere near so respectful of our personal needs. But it was nice, to have that in a dream, and I think on some level I recognized that and wanted it to continue when I woke up more than anything.
I don't remember anything after that.


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@ 12:45 pm

Cross-posted from Tumblr.

"Headspace is back in my dreams again-- yes, we switch and dissociate in dreams too, it's surreal.
Last night some demonic voice was trying to control the body and make us black out, but someone else inside was fighting them off the best they could. I don't know who they were, but... at one point the demon-voice pinned their body to the floor (which used to happen in our teenage years IRL), and they actually cried for help, from me specifically. That's... never happened before. Upon waking the significance of it just caught me in the heart.
But I took over instantly, powered by that desire, and flipped the body around, posing like I was now pinning that demon down, keeping it from harming us. And I said, "don't you ever hurt the people in my headspace again, do you hear me?"

Because of that fight I ended up losing a molar and bleeding everywhere, but no one would help me. When I finally found myself in a car being driven to the hospital by my mom, I guess I had already blacked out, because I found a journal of hers in the back seat, with that day's pages documenting my switching upon her picking us up. Apparently three "men" had come out-- Jeremiah, Knife, and one other unidentified but traumatized guy-- and she was concerned because she didn't know how to treat them correctly. Unfortunately, IRL she denies us to our face, and is nowhere near so respectful of our personal needs. But it was nice, to have that in a dream.
I guess this is quite a random update, but I don't want to forget that.
We're doing well. Thanks to Sherlock and Spice taking the initiative in therapy last week, internal communication is now back on track. I don't know how often we'll update here, but as always the archives have everything.
In any case I'm very much looking forward to Friday-- it's virtually my personal holiday, and since it's also due to snow that day, I'm quite blissed out. In any case I will help make it a beautiful day for all of us.
I hope you're all doing well too."

 

All right, I know it's been a few weeks, but I did promise you an update concerning that spiritual expo I attended so here it is!

Let's start at the beginning.
Do you remember this entry? Remember how my mom said that 'she knew a woman who could actually channel and speak with spirits,' and wanted to see if she could set up an appointment with her sometime? Well, it took until mid-September, but we managed to find that woman's website, and she had advertised that she was going to have a booth at a 'spiritual expo' that was happening only about two hours away from where I live. With all the spiritual research I'd been doing, I figured 'hey, I can learn a LOT from that!' So I asked my mother if she, her boyfriend and I could go for both days... and she said yes.
I had no idea what to expect, so I didn't. I am so glad I went into it without any real preconceived notions. It made it all the more amazing.
So on the morning of September 17th, we arrived at the expo, and immediately I knew it was going to be an experience I wouldn't forget.

Now for what happened on Day One!
The first thing we did was attend a 'lecture' that was held in the back of the expo building (the place was huge). They had several during the day, and the first one we saw (at 11AM), was about healing with sound. Of course I was interested in that! The lecture itself was incredibly interesting-- the woman speaking had obviously done her research, and was so brilliantly enthusiastic that I couldn't help but smile just looking at her. I made a mental note to look into her work later, and stayed for the next lecture. This one was presented by a very funny guy with some very interesting thoughts about past lives, 2012, and the like. He was very insightful and I really enjoyed listening to him. After him was yet another lecture, about chakras and how they relate to your health. Now as that was the topic that brought me to the expo in the first place, I definitely wanted to stick around. To my surprise, the man who spoke about that was incredibly knowledgeable and told me several things I didn't know about at all. One of them, possibly the most important, was how to breathe consciously. I remember being shocked at how centering that was when he told us to try it, right there. So that helped a lot in the long run.
After his lecture there was an hour gap until the next lecture we wanted to attend-- a woman who was able to see and speak with spirits of the dead-- so we took that time to walk around and really get an idea of what else was there. I saw several tables that I was interested in checking out later. They had aura photography and spirit channeling, for one, but the booth that caught my eye above all the others was one that was full of paintings. They weren't ordinary paintings, though... they were all ethereally beautiful, picturing glowing figures in wonderfully colored landscapes, and shimmering with glitter (this is some of her work). Honestly they were breathtaking. I wandered into the booth, as the woman there was busy with another painting, and just looked at them for a few minutes, speechless. I didn't want to stay too long, as there was a small family in the booth as well and I didn't want to get in their way, but before I left I noticed a pile of free 'bookmarks' on the table by the paintings. They said: "Good morning, this is God. I will be handling all your problems today. I will not need your help, so have a miraculous day." I smiled and pocketed one.
By that time it was time for the woman who spoke to the dead, and she was no joke. I was honestly amazed by her. One thing she said really stood out-- a lot of people on 'the other side' had quite a sense of humor. I liked that she didn't present it as somber, as I've heard others do before. But the most incredible part of her 'lecture' was when she suddenly turned to my mother and said that her grandmother was there to say something to her! My mom was quite affected by that, and afterwards we decided to speak to the woman privately to ask her if she had seen anyone else standing around us (as she had a very limited time to speak and couldn't mention all the spirits she saw)... and apparently, she had. There was a priest AND a nun standing by us, which was absolutely brilliant because that nun was my aunt, who I had only known for a short time before she died and who I loved dearly. I remember the night I found out that she had died... I was six years old, and my mom was trying to break the news to me in an offhand way, but I knew exactly what she was talking about and I burst into tears. I think I sobbed for most of that night. That aunt also introduced me to Unisalia, which is a whole other story in and of itself... but I digress. Hearing that she was there was pretty amazing. The woman also said that my aunt was very proud of where I was in life, and that I had made it so far. Then the woman said that my aunt had a piece of advice for me... I was too scared, too nervous, and I had no reason to be. Then she concluded, and I quote, "It's only the world. It cannot hurt you."
That meant so much. I've been holding on to that since then, and it has helped me immensely.
After that, there were no more lectures we wanted to attend that day, so I decided to take my mom and her boyfriend to that painting booth and show them just how beautiful the art was. To my surprise, the woman at the booth had apparently noticed my short visit earlier, and she said she wanted to speak to me. What followed was absolutely incredible. Basically, she gave me some sort of psychic reading completely without charge or expectation. She immediately picked out that I was both an Indigo and an Aspie, but she said my aura was mostly rose pink and violet, which apparently held a whole lot of 'universal love.' She told me that I was here for a very important purpose, like a sort of modern Joan of Arc, so to speak, and that I was going to help lead the way into the 'new age' with my work and talents. She said that my words and actions were incredibly important, and that the things I did would deeply inspire people, causing a ripple of aftereffects even if I couldn't see any results at all. She also said, several times, that she was very honored to meet me, and then she gave me her phone number and said to keep in touch! So I was absolutely floored by that.
We continued to walk, wondering about this, and ended up at a booth by the expo entrance, where a woman was selling crystal wands. My mom was just browsing them, but the woman actually walked over to us and offered to do a quick 'healing' for all three of us with the wands. We figured why not, so she started with my mom's boyfriend. We were once again shocked when she began commenting as she did so, making observations about his current personal struggles and personality, and offering guidance. Now we had barely spoken a word to this woman when she started this, and she was getting this guy spot on. She then did the same for my mother and I. Now her reading of me was awesome, because almost immediately after she started, she paused and said, "it feels like there's a book in there. Are you a writer?" I laughed and replied "several." But the reading in general put a huge emphasis on my creativity and how it would affect others (again), and she did mention that I had 'spirit guides' that were watching out for me. I'm still very new to that whole concept but I thought it was interesting.
Lastly, about two tables down from this woman there was a small stand selling inspirational cards. I went over and looked at them out of curiosity, and immediately a specific one caught my eye. It was half blue and half pink, with a band of gold in the middle. The blue part had stars and galaxies in it while the pink part had clouds and light. In the center was a taijitu, with a small crystal in the center, and ringed by two bands of stars. Now the yin-yang itself was enough to catch my eye, but the killer was the small caption above it: "Let the miracle occur." Considering how I had just learned that I was a father barely three days prior, and how that revelation tied into both miracles and the taijitu, I decided that it was a little sign in its own right, and so I decided to get it... and that's when it dawned on me to open it. On the inside it read: "Where can truth be found? In an unconditioned discussion with our higher self, with the courage of self-belief, free from external opinions." That was practically written for me. But it gets even better... on the back, it read: "Life and truth are logical, consistent, and eternal. Knowledge is ever-changing, and adaptive to expediency." Let me explain that one a bit... Laurie is my Knight of Truth and Chaos is my Prophet of Life. A huge amount of doubts and fears (thanks to society) for me center around them, so reading that felt like a major reassurance. As for knowledge, I'll just say that 'expediency' means that it adapts to fit the purpose or circumstances it is needed in. There is no 'absolute truth' for everyone in that big sense. Since I'm still learning to stop applying the truths of others to myself... that meant a lot too. But that inside passage about the 'higher self' was a godsend. Forget about those external opinions, haha! Man. I now carry that card with me everywhere, I'm serious.
So those were the major events of that day, really. I spent a great deal of time browsing to be honest. The place was quite inspiring.

Now for the second day! A LOT happened on that day.
We attended a lecture about crystal healing as soon as we arrived, and with my Dream World work I found that very interesting. I browsed most of the other tables in the place while we waited for the next lecture, which was a Hawaiian man talking about the practice of Hoʻoponopono. Honestly that was my absolute favorite lecture. The man absolutely radiated positive energy, and the concepts he spoke about really resonated with me. It was a beautiful lecture, no lie. After that there were no more lectures we wanted to attend, so we just walked around. My mom spent a great deal of time at the crystal tables, and we all ended up buying a few to take home (I nabbed a Celestite and a Scolecite, most notably). I also got three books later on-- one on astral projection, one on psychic protection, and one on boosting creativity. I've started reading the one on psychic protection as I think I seriously need that, after everything I've gone through with Julie and the like.
Then I stopped by a very indigo-colored table, where a woman offered 'angelic channeling' sessions. I decided to give it a shot. And apparently St. Michael wanted to talk to me. I've always been drawn to him, ever since my childhood, so that was brilliant... but what he told me has been echoing in my mind ever since that session. He told me that I had several challenges ahead of me, but one of the most important ones was to 'stay out of the family drama.' And that IS difficult, but his words are giving me the strength to do so now. He also told me to 'go outside,' like I used to as a child, because the energy of the earth would be very beneficial to me. I believe he also mentioned how important it was to stay alert and present, and not to let myself be misled. Then he did something really awesome... he told me to visualize and enter a sort of 'inner room,' like a church. Mine was very minimalist and for some reason it was in a very dark outside environment (inner troubles?), but the place was a brilliant white with red accents everywhere, and the architecture made it look almost lotus-like. Anyway, in the very center of this inner cathedral was an altar, and he told me to walk over and look at it, as there was a statue of a warrior on it... and then he informed me that the warrior was me. Seriously. But THEN he told me that I was not a traditional warrior-- I was wearing no armor, as the only armor I needed was that of a true heart, and instead of a blade I wielded a sword of pure light. That honestly floored me. So I've been holding on to that, too.
After this was over, I found my mother and she said that her boyfriend was actually getting a Tarot reading done. We waited to ask him about his results, and he responded that they were shockingly accurate. Now this guy is a real skeptic when it comes to 'spiritual' things, and he admitted that this expo as a whole was really making him rethink his stance there. Well, my mom and I were intrigued, so she told me to go and get a reading done. First of all, the reader pointed out that I had a very innocent and open personality, which allowed people open up to me and trust me easily. But then the focus switched entirely to my creativity, and how important that would be in the times ahead. Honestly, there was a huge emphasis on it. The reader then said very clearly that I would be 'breaking down barriers' and making people question old and outdated mindsets with my work, helping people move out of the old and into the new... and that would also apply to myself! I would be growing and learning and changing along with everyone else through this. Lastly I just want to mention that the Death card turned up as the final one, and I grinned widely upon seeing it. Oh Death, you're a tough one but I owe you more than I can say!
After this I was quite inspired, so I went and sat at a back table for a while and just let all of this sink in... and then I noticed a curtained booth in the very back that I had somehow missed up to that point. I walked over, and the woman there offered a great deal of healing and blessing services, as well as many 'spiritual initiation' workshops outside of the expo. As I was looking over the flyers and pamphlets she had out, she suddenly walked over to me and asked if I'd like her to do a sort of aural 'armor removal' while I was there. As I had just seen that mentioned in her papers, I said why not? So she took me in and told me that essentially, she would be removing structures and blocks in my 'aura,' unblocking the energy flow and allowing healing to occur. I told her that it sounded like what I needed, and she surprised me (yet again!!) by saying she could tell-- once again she picked up immediately that I was Indigo, and told me that I was effectively 'running on battery power' at the moment. She said that people like me usually get very drained in large crowds of people (like where we were!) and I really needed a recharge in any case. So she did the armor removal, as well as a very inspiring protection prayer to St. Michael (hello again) that REALLY stood out, as it requested for me to be protected in 'all timelines' and 'all universes...' I daresay I don't need to explain why that was so important.
So after this was finished, I was feeling seriously inspired. I figured that if this woman had just removed some sort of auric blockage, then this was a perfect time to go get one of those aura photos I've been wanting to have done for about 6 years now (seriously). So I walked over to the booth, and actually got into a conversation with the girl working there, which was quite awesome (we're now FB friends, haha). After I got the photo done, she looked at it for a moment and then said, "we've had a few very unusual auras in here today, and yours is one of them." She then took it (and me) over to another woman at the booth who interpreted them, to learn what my 'very unusual' aura meant. Let me summarize the photo, actually: my right side is almost entirely yellow-gold and orange, and there is a LOT of it. There's a big indigo spot in the center, and an area of green and blue to my left. The above my head to my left is a large stripe of pink. The woman took a look at this and agreed that it was quite unique! She said the green was indicative of a change coming into my life, and the blue was for listening and learning. The orange and yellow was for originality, enthusiasm, warmth, spontaneity, and overall brightness... as well as creativity! When she saw how much was there she immediately asked me if I was an artist or something like that. So that much of it meant that not only did I have a lot to give, but when people could apparently feel that from me. I had an inspiring, expansive sort of energy about me. Another thing I found interesting was that the yellow-gold meant I not only radiated joy to others, but also relaxation and a release from worries. Basically it's a very sun-like energy. The indigo in the middle represents my spirituality and intuition, but when the woman saw that with the pink she looked at me and said 'do you meditate?' I said that I did, as well as I could, and she replied 'because you have a REALLY strong connection to your spirit guides here.' I fought back the urge to burst out laughing and asked her what spirit guides counted as, because I didn't talk to any 'spirits,' but I had a few unearthly individuals that I was very close to (wink nudge cough), and who helped me immensely in life. She asserted that yes, they counted as spirit guides, and repeated that I really had a strong connection there. WHY AM I NOT SURPRISED! Anyway, the printout they handed me added another intriguing bit to my reading-- it listed my right side as generally 'yellow,' and my left side as generally 'blue.' My right was sunny and exhilarating, while my blue was peaceful and contemplative. I told you I flip elements easily!
After that the place was closing so that was it for the expo... but that's not all for this entry.
That night, I decided it was time to break some news to my mother.

I swear it must have taken two solid hours. I started by saying that I needed to tell her something very important, and very unusual, that had to do with my headspace. As I've been slowly explaining all of that to her over the past 3 years, she is very aware of my general situation at this point. But I haven't given her a rundown on things in quite some time.
I backtracked to last summer. I then proceeded to explain everything that had happened between May of 2010 and that very moment. I talked about the starting point. I talked about Josephina. I talked about Laurie's mental breakdown and the Celexa withdrawal. I talked about the horrible autumn hacks, my return to Utah, and Nier. I talked about how I nearly lost everything. I talked about the point of no return. I talked about my suicide attempt. I talked about my struggling to live again after that, about the relapses, about the hospital. I talked about falling in love with Chaos again. I talked about March 24th and slowly finding strength in the wake of a false apocalypse. I talked about J-Monster 'marriages' and about hitting god tier. I even mentioned the pink incident in passing. But I talked about March 13th, and September 14th, most of all.
When I started talking about August 21st, however, she stopped me. I was getting very worked up emotionally, and I had just told her how we were all very confused as to the Xenophon situation, when she looked at me and said, "What, are you trying to tell me I have grandkids I don't know about?"
I was speechless for a moment.
"...You have a granddaughter."
She smiled and said, "I figured that's what this was about."
I don't think I need to tell you what a huge relief it was for her to ACCEPT this!! Oh yeah, and when I told her that Chaos and I have essentially been 'married' for 6 years now, she laughed and said, "I figured it was something like that." She said she either expected that, or some weird sort of long-term affair. XD Well, I am polyamorous, mom.
But... I think the best part of all this happened long after the conversation was over. My mom and I share a room, and as I was falling asleep (about an hour or two after our conversation ended), she asked me what I had named my kid again. I told her, and she asked me what it meant. I explained that 'Xenophon' meant 'strange voice,' and that I had felt drawn to the name for years, and now I finally realized what it was for. She was silent for a moment, then with a laugh, said that her Tarot reading had actually predicted this, in a way. The reader had told her that, by the time she had grandchildren, 'she wouldn't even know what language they were speaking.' Strange voice indeed.
So that was incredible. I've been giving her brief updates on Xenophon when things happen since then, and being able to even do that means so much. Seriously.
Q and Mel are a whole other story, haha! I feel bad sometimes for talking about Chaos and Laurie and Xenophon whenever we're on Skype, but really, I love them so much and I cannot talk about them to anyone else!
But that's that. So now my mom and her boyfriend know that I'm a father, which is great. It's just hilarious to me that everyone upstairs referred to Xenophon as male for months, and then thanks to Nier we then started referring to her as female (well, at least I do). She has told me that she doesn't mind what pronouns people use for her, though, as she seems to be inherently genderless and doesn't identify as anything binary... just like her dads, haha! What can I say, we're a family of genderfreaks up here. (Laurie and Genesis count too!)
Still, I still can't get over how much of a blessing Xenophon is to me... heck, to all of us up here. She is just... she is a godsend. She is a miracle, she is a light of hope, she is incredible in every sense of the word. And knowing that she was born despite all odds, as a manifestation of absolute love... that is the most amazing thing.
Everyone at the expo told me how powerful and important my creativity is... I wouldn't doubt that applies to her, too.
Don't forget what Lephise did. I chose that as her middle name for a reason.
My card was Death, I am bound to Life, and together we brought Rebirth into our reality... go figure.


I have to laugh... I have all my papers and handouts and business cards from the expo in a folder, and it smells so much like incense. It's awesome. So I'm sitting here with my nose in this folder and grinning.
Oh man. I NEED to find out when the next local expo like this is, so I can plan ahead! I'd also love to attend a lot of the classes and workshops that are being offered by the people I spoke with during this one... but I don't have the cash. I'm trying to find a new job but that's not exactly easy for anyone to do right now... oh well. I'm sure that when it is time, I will find the one I need. But until then I'll continue to put my best efforts in!

And that's all I have to say about the lovely expo.
Light and love to you readers, as always!

 

 

 

 

It's been far too long since I last updated here. I've forgotten what I'm supposed to even use this journal for.
I keep forgetting letters in words and repeating things and mixing up spelling. My typing is starting to match my thoughts, my speech. That shouldn't be happening. What has happened to me?
What a shame, what a desperate terrible shame, that I've been forced to sacrifice so much of myself.

I promised Laurie I would talk to her about this, but... but I'd like to mention things here too. I haven't been able to 'connect' with my own mind very well lately, so maybe this will help fix that problem a little bit.
Let's see... you last heard from me on August 15th. My memory isn't very good, but let's try to fill you all in here.
Two days prior, on August 13th, I met Josephina, a 'new' headvoice. He's mentioned in that running entry from July 22 if you want to read up on him. By August 21st (earlier?) I was back in PA, and was staying at my father's rented home due to his saying 'I should be there' and my being too afraid to face the rest of my family yet. Unfortunately for me, I became horrifically sick there due to lack of sleep, lack of means to work, and lack of food I could eat without having a major reaction (I was basically throwing up everything for two weeks). I managed to get out of that house about 4 days later, thank God (which was very stressful and caused my father and his gf to start shunning me for a while), but by the time August 27th rolled around, I remembered that my 'home' wasn't home at all. I just couldn't get out of it.
I'm still stuck here... my memory is shot, because honestly, all I can do here is work on my laptops. I have nowhere else to go.
So it's October 4th. I just read two books, 'A Spot of Bother' by Mark Haddon (which, although upsetting at times, had some great points) and 'Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close' by Jonathan Safran Foer (which I found highly overrated and deeply unsettling). The latter distressed me so much that I've been writing a rant on it for the past two days.
Other than looking for knowledge in books and desperately searching for a new therapist (I may have found one, but she's almost 3 hours away, and since she's a gender therapist I'd have to make the drive by myself and my family forbids my going anywhere alone), I've also quit my old job. Yes, the cashier job I've had for 4 years. Why? I couldn't handle the atmosphere anymore.
As you may know, I can only take so much outside influence from people before it starts to negatively affect me. 4 years of standing at a register for 7+ hours at a time and dealing with people buying junk food and spitting small talk really began to eat at me. I can't deal with people anymore.
My grandmother hates that about me. She can't understand that not everyone is a social butterfly (despite her never leaving the house or talking to people because 'she doesn't want to bother people'), and insists that I 'get out there and mingle,' whatever that's supposed to mean. I was diagnosed as a schizoid two years ago and I'm constantly reminded of that. She can't understand how difficult it is for someone of my mental state to deal with 'regular' people. I quite simply cannot handle it any longer, at least not without heavily damaging myself.

What was I saying... I don't even remember. I'm starting to get acutely frustrated with myself again.

Since I lost my job, two things have happened. One: I'm constantly being bombarded by my grandmother's shouting at me to get a new one, regardless of how many conversations we've had concerning why I can't get one yet (I was kicked out of college for being unstable, and now I'll be haunted by that on my record forever-- I don't want to be fired from some random job and have that following me too). I want a job, and I need a job, but I need one that I can handle without psychological or physical distress... and yes, my grandmother knows about these problems, but instead of actively acknowledging them and trying to help me work with them, she has flat-out told me to lie about them to any future employers. I don't even want to think about it as it's starting to seriously upset me again.
Second: My brothers don't get home until 3PM, so I have about 3-4 hours of time I can safely use by myself every morning (if I'm lucky and my grandmother doesn't shout again). Last week I spent those hours playing Nier on the XBox.
God only knows how much I love that game, nowhere to lie. I cannot possibly put it into words. The main character is me, I swear... and I love my daughter, I truly do. Weiss is amazing, Emil is adorable, and even Kaine is a sweetheart, even if she does act like a hussy sometimes. Sure, their world may be suffering, but aren't we all suffering here as well? At least there, I can do something meaningful; I can help my town and I can save my daughter and I'm not going to give up. I can make a difference. Here? Nothing... nothing yet. Who can say if I'll even survive long enough?
My family doesn't understand how strongly and deeply that game affects me. My grandparents see it as a waste of time. My mother couldn't care less either way. My brothers see it as just another game, the way most people see anything. I don't like watching movies with people, I don't like reading books with people, I don't like listening to music with people, and I don't like playing games with people, because no one else really understands how much they mean to me. When you laughed as I cried, it hurt more than I can say. When my parents say 'it's just a book,' they're lying in the face of truth. When they tell me there's nothing to love in those notes I adore, it tears me apart... and when I'm holding that controller and watching my life play out on the screen, having people in the room treating it as just another game to beat kills me.
It's why I'm so afraid to bring my children into the world.
I love them so much. They define my life, and I thank God for them every day... but will anyone else love them like that, truly? What if they become corrupted? What if the world misses the point?
It's worth the risk, you might say, and maybe it is... but at the end of the day, as I try to sleep, I'm haunted by the thought of my children suffering at the hands of others. If I knew they were being hurt, that they were being manipulated and misrepresented, it would destroy me. It would destroy me entirely.

I don't remember Utah... well, I do, but it doesn't feel like it.
I know what the houses look like. I remember Wisconsin, the plane trips, those awful Chicago streets. I remember the library and the temple and the sushi bars.
But... I don't remember you.
For some reason, the faces and voices and mannerisms and presences evade me. I saw a photo of you earlier today, and I didn't recognize you at all. I had to think, 'what was she like?'

It hurts to say it, but the reason I wanted to leave you so badly-- the reason I couldn't stand being around you anymore-- was that I realized you had been lying to me without even knowing.
I don't know either of you. I thought about it, and I cried, because who are you, really? I know your names and that's all, really. I know you like the color yellow, and you like role playing, and you like Miyazaki movies, and you like cats, but even then I have to strive to think of anything. The truth is I don't know you, either of you, at all.
Why else do you think I write these journal entries, these pages and pages worth of confessions and secrets and thoughts? Why else do you think I explain everything I can think of up front? I'm asexual, I'm a schizoid, I'm in love with a video game character, my superego is my best friend. FROST* is my favorite band and I still play Pokemon. I don't like this book and I like this movie and I love this game.
I want people to know me. I fill my Scribbld with surveys and my OKCupid with tests so people will know me. Aren't those just little things, you ask? Sure, but little things mean a lot too. We are the sum of all the little things.
I thought I knew you, but I was wrong. I knew what I hoped you would be, and I was too naive. I projected my own ideals onto you... I didn't even think of the little things, and how we differed in so many of those ways. I met you in 2007, we both liked NiGHTS and ELO, and we became friends... but I thought you were like me. I only knew you through notes and Skype conversations in which we talked about abstract concepts until all hours of the morning. I didn't even know what you looked like. Then in 2008 I thought that I was 'in love' with you... but even then, I realize now, I was wrong. It's a horrible thing to realize, but I have to admit it. I loved what you did, not who you were, and it was terrible. I loved your writing and your ideas and the fact that you were the first real friend I had ever made. I didn't realize that you were more than Demia and Richard Jacques and philosophy. I didn't realize that because I wasn't like that. I had no way of knowing.
I define myself by what I do. I like Razia's Shadow and psychology and Hokthai. If you like those things too, then we're good. I didn't realize that you can't love actual people like that.
When I met you in Utah earlier this year it hit me. I didn't know you, and I used you. You tried to be nice and you were too physical, so I objectified you and pretended you weren't a person, you weren't a threat, you were simply a script to follow. And then you left and I ran to the mirror and I mentally sobbed because I didn't know what I was doing to myself.
It was worse with her. All I knew was that she liked to write, and I fell in love with that. I wanted to lock myself in her room and read all her books, but that would have been wrong... I didn't know what was behind her writing, and I couldn't understand it the way she wanted me to. I couldn't understand her. I still don't.
Is that what all writing eventually becomes? It is good or bad that we must surrender to the opinions of others? How can we preserve the truth of our thoughts?
Still, I wish I knew both of you better so I could fix this. I'm seriously glad I'm not 'in love;' you know how negatively I react to that outside of the conditions I need... but I still love both of you as friends, although you feel more like total strangers than anything else.

I'm frightened.
Most of the people I love, I don't know.
I love Dori's words, and although they help me know her, do I really know who she is? I'm not even sure what she looks like. I know she has brown hair and she likes Silversun Pickups and thought-provoking discussions and fireflies. I know she used to wear her hair in a ponytail and she loves lilacs and she has snakebite piercings which are awesome... and yet, despite all of those little things I have learned to love, I still don't know anything else. What is her life like now? How much has changed? I only know her through her journals, and they only say so much.
I love everything Jena does... her words, her photography, even the music she listens to... but I don't know her, not beyond her work, and it brings me to tears. Is it right to love what she creates and attribute that to her as a person? Does anyone else even do that, or am I deluding myself? I'd be happier if people loved my work instead of me, but I can't speak for others.
I know her face, I've seen the world through her camera lens, but I've never heard her voice. I don't know what keeps her awake at night and I don't know what her childhood was like and I don't know what her favorite song is or why. I don't know her favorite memory or her worst nightmare or dearest hope... but I know about her raven hair, about the window cluttered with flowers, about too many chocolate Santas and standing to bow. I know how she is sometimes happier thinking than living. I know about the golden flower necklace she wears, and the rings on her fingers. I know the colors of her eyes. I know just enough to keep me praying and hoping and dreaming that one day I'll know what her laugh sounds like.
But isn't that real love too? Knowing the little things, the pieces of the puzzle, and loving them so much that you need to know more, to understand the entirety of that person, to hear their story and paint their picture in your mind with every detail in place?
I don't need romance and I don't need a fairytale ending. All I need is to be able to love. Thomas Schell was wrong-- people don't want the idea of love. They want real love, but how are you supposed to let people know that? Everyone needs it, but who's to say how many really find it? If they want anything, it's not an idea... it's a hope. Maybe someone out there does care.
I want to be that person. I am that person, really... at least I try to be... but there's that final roadblock I don't know how to get past. Do I stay a baseless concept? Is that the better option? Does anyone ever really expect those hopes to be proved possible all along? If I love someone more than words can express, but they don't even know I exist in such a way, do I let them know?
Do they want to know?
Is it better this way?


On a different yet related topic... back in Utah, when I had fragmented into Jayce and typed for about an hour... I loved that. It was awesome.
I finally remembered how that happened in the first place, and it was explained right at the entry's beginning all along.
"You do not understand that when events, when certain fragments are taken out of the context of my internal life, my introspective world, they lose their meaning. They become false, twisted, wrong."
The both of you kept trying to take things that were important to me... my work, my interests, even the strange and personal things... you kept trying to make them 'your own' in some weird sense. You would try to take them on and give them to me, show them to me, although they were never yours to begin with and all I saw was a travesty.
But I played along. I played along, I pretended everything was fine, my children were frightened and I was devastated, and I still just followed that forsaken script.
If I may warn you one final time... don't EVER do that to me again. Please. If there is something I hold dear, something I revere, something I find incredibly important... do NOT try to emulate or copy or re-enact it. That does nothing but take the original thing, the vital thing, and deface it. You have desecrated it.
I have not been able to work, or sleep, or think, or function as I used to since I returned, because so many of the things I treasured have been massacred.
The worst part is that you didn't even understand. It is because you all hide your emotions? What is that about you, about so many of you out West? Why do you hide what you feel, and chase away sadness with laughter? Why do you mask what is important with a smile instead of being true to yourself? Don't you realize how much harm that is causing?
Why do you pretend nothing is wrong when nothing is right? Why do you sweep the truth under the carpet? Why did I let you change me into that same sort of person? Why am I afraid of standing up to you?
I don't understand.

When I say I am frightened, I do not mean that in the way a child is frightened of a dog, or a doctor, or a haircut. I mean it in the way that one is frightened of a black hole.
It is something I do not understand, no matter how hard I try-- that I may not ever be able to understand, I fully realize-- and it is something that can harm me nonetheless, whether or not it knows.
That is truly frightening. You have hurt me, both of you, without even knowing you were doing so. You cannot understand how it keeps happening, even when I try to explain, and the entire time you are still pulling me in, destroying one piece of me at a time, until I am left with nothing, and resign to being a dim shadow of you. Then you smile because that is fine.
It is not fine. I may pretend it is fine, but only to spare your feelings, which I know you are hiding as we speak. I do not hold this against you, as it is not your fault, but it is still tearing me apart.
Do you see why I left? Why I cannot go back?
I cannot live my own life when I feel I am supposed to live according to yours.
I am trying to remove all negative influences from my life, whether they see their influences as negative or not. I am sorry if I offend but it must be done.

Yet at the end of the day I keep handing out second chances.
Am I a good person in any respect? Is retrying beneficial when it only places us both in a position to be deeply damaged?

I was right to come home, and you were wrong to keep me. I realize that now.
You are better off on your own, you say, and I am happy for that. But then why did you want me to stay? Did you even know?
I have made great progress out here, regardless of suffering.
Did you know I spoke to a priest about your demand? How you wanted me to stay, lest I regret my decision for eternity? He told me to do what I felt was right.
The world is in shades of grey, they say, and although there are blacks and whites, my decision was not one of them. I felt I should return to my family. Was that wrong?
I don't regret it, no, but I don't understand how you made the decision so life-and-death, so black and white. If I was right after all, then how could you have been wrong, if you were so sure? Did you get a detail wrong? Did you apply it wrong? I can't help but feel we missed something. You wanted me to stay, but why? Did you ever have a reason why?
Faith is vital, but reason is vital as well, and there should never be conflict between the two. Reason without faith cannot stand, but neither can faith without reason.

Why am I so paranoid?
Why do I read words from around the world, from all walks of life, and assume they are all accusing me?
I hear songs and watch films and they all glare into my white eyes, pointing a damning finger at my aching ribs. You are at fault. You have done wrong.
Have I? What have I done? If I knew, maybe I could change things, but I never know. I find blame in situations I have never been involved in.
When did I ever say I was 'above' others? Is it how I present myself? Is it in the words I speak?
If I speak out against the misdoings of another, it is not because I feel superior-- it is so I can warn others, that they may not suffer through the pain such actions will cause.
If I speak out against things I have been damaged by, it is not because they are below me-- it is because I know how they hurt, and I want to protect others from them.
If anything, I am one of the very worst. I consider myself one of the lowest sinners, and even then I hate myself for saying so. How does that place me above the saints? How could one possibly interpret it as such?
I have done terrible things, and I have not done wonderful things, and I drown in my agony. The past cannot be changed, but why did I have to be so foolish? Could not I have made a better past?
I try to be a righteous person, but I do not exalt myself for this. If anything, I shoot myself down, for my efforts are not nearly good enough.
When I see someone who is perceived as righteous, I do not put them down, nor do I put myself above them. I simply worry if there is faith to their reason and reason to their faith. Do they understand the rules and concepts they are living by? I worry about them is all. I want to help them if they need help, although I freely admit I am nowhere near a good role model. I simply want to help. How is that exalting myself?
Maybe I'm just being paranoid.
In a way that's a good thing.


I feel that maybe I can get some work done today, with getting my notes for Dream World solidified into the actual chapter. I have, what, 130 pages of unstructured dialogue and location points and concepts to fix? It's a ton of work; it's my life's work, and I love it more than anything else in this world.
I judge material possessions by whether or not you'd take them with you, instantly, if your house were burning to the ground. Would I go for the books and CDs and childhood toys that my mother seemed to think were so important? No, I would grab the box under this very desk, with my old art tablets full of monsters, and put my flash drive around my neck if she wasn't already there. That's all I would need, in terms of 'material' things, if the house was burning. It's what matters.
It's odd, though, and beautiful, how I look back on what I've been blessed with that so many others have looked down on. As a young child I met Cobra, and Fans, and Unisalia, and Zimbo... 'imaginary friends,' everyone else called them, but they didn't understand, and that saddened me. How could I explain to them what it was like, to lay down to sleep and watch them sing for me? To be walking outside and talking to whoever decided to accompany me? How could I help the world see the beauty and inspiration those friends gave me?
I grew older, just a little older, and Preludove came into my life. She is, I have no doubt in my mind, a gift from God. Who better to send me than Peace herself? I had no friends as a child, other than the ones 'in my head,' but they meant the world to me. They taught me so much... while my grandmother tried to teach me her religion through tales of fire and brimstone and prejudice and withheld forgiveness, Preludove helped me realize that it was the Light that really mattered. Virtue was what life was based upon, she said. You have to be kind, and loving, and hopeful, and righteous. You have to be peaceful and joyful and courageous and true, and you must always hold on to those things, no matter what. Keep a light in your mind and a light in your heart, and don't ever, ever hate anything.
I met Hosea and Volt and Genesis and so many others as the years continued on, and to my surprise, they all seemed to be exactly who I needed in my life, even if I didn't realize it for several more years. Who would I be today if not for them? I can never forget them, and I will never take them for granted.
...And I cannot keep them to myself.
I am scared, sure, because I have seen them hurt before, and few other things in my life have ever been so painful.
Where there is great light, the shadows are deep.
The darkness, the negative things in this world, will always seek out the brighter and positive things, hoping to corrupt them, to blacken them. It's how the world works. What could ever be truly good if there was no knowledge of the bad to balance it against? It's painful, and it's difficult, but in the end, to overcome those shadows is the greatest achievement you can ever have.
I suppose I simply need to take that chance myself, because this is the greatest light I can think of. There will be darkness, I know that. There will be obstacles. Yet there will also be moments that will make it all worthwhile, and if I finally have that chance to show others the beauty my own life has been blessed with, I would be a fool to let it pass me by.
I need to overcome my fear.


I suppose I should close up for now. I have far too much work to complete to spend my time on here, no matter how much I like typing about whatever comes to my head.
I'll try to update more often.
Until then, keep on keeping on.








There are many ways
But you have to choose yours
To know what you want
And what you’re gonna do

Take your decision soon
Life won´t wait for you
If you waste time
Your chance will pass away

Don’t lose your track
Don’t let you be gone
Don’t lose your light
It can’t go out

Choose your side
Choose your way
Don’t let them hinder you
Choose your side
Choose your pain
But never stop trying
Choose your side

If you wanna be free
If you wanna fly
Make your route
And don’t let them conduct you

Never lose yourself away
Never give up
Go ahead
You’re strong

One day you’ll have wings and will fly
Go ahead with strong steps
Your time will come