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2 entries this month
 

GOOD BYE SOULMATE of 1992

12:33 Dec 24 2006
Times Read: 670


It is not sour grape, I will always be your best friend, and it is not because you said we are from different worlds that I feel this way, I simply needed to love, to give my power to be a wall and to learn as a spy in my fascination of amazement. I have more of you in me than any man will have of any woman anytime anywhere any who but I was not Gemini and you were not Libra. Christendom lied when they said we were soulmates. My bull and your scorpions never had the window. If it was real there would have been more time for timing rather than at the end to just be one of 2 bullets in your revolver pointed at your tum for me to withdraw my bullet was key for me. Yes Rider could have been mine and I will always feel he is my son, and I don’t care if you feel I am wrong but what came after doesn’t mean a thing to me. I feel like a dad that’s all, once, one time I had a boy and now all I can make is girls so whatever, but I chose me.



I am Imenhotep Tamara I have become what you could not and you will never write a screenplay so just give it up but hold on to the colors, that is why I chased you, only for the magic of color but I could not love you because you did not love yourself, I don’t think you ever will. You need kids, I may not, I don’t think I will ever even settle down I was not meant to, and to have hearts in spades and diamonds to be clubs with acceptance of from the world, women are right, if I walk into a bar I can leave with anybody, even a man if I choose, but he better be wearing a dress have a nice ass and a girly voice. So I am the Bull, I am the father of fathers the stud whom she thinks of when the night is over for a moment she remembers the exotic stranger in the bar, he is the force that pushes her over the edge, that pushes him over the edge that brings new life into the world. I am the bull and I have killed the last matador.



This is not the man you met, this is the female impregnation of the male, there is color without frequency, maybe an echo of feminine unthought unexpressed philosophy turned into gold sculpture by the hand of a man that just wanted to learn feeling to walk beside fire and not be an animal and act on desire, I had to be a god, not a man, I had to be more than life offered I had to be the thing that was missing and you gave birth to that as I took you to a place where you are now happy through it all you were never a whore, as long as I stood by you you were whole. Together we became the best of both worlds, and yes I know your world very well, and it is ok I was your body guard that was what I was when you found me that was what I was all the way through, and I will always be awkward with you, and a real man should not, it is just that you are too meta-physical you can’t even cash in on your self.





But I became the best of what you wanted to be, if you ever want to know how the healer in you would have turned or how the perfect screen play ends you just ask and I will come running to show your soul to you, it is all in there me our soul. But it will always be the same wih you and I, I am a homewrecker bull in a china shop of sheep and in my wake disaster I would have gone insane with the herpes and beat you like Senz and father. I made the executive decision to go without the woman I loved with my world heart and I would rather go without you forever than to be turned into a monster. To be Imenhotep and live forever as a healer I had to cut out my heart, but I will always love you, respect your awesome power even if you forget you who you could have been with me, your live wire.



I don’t know what is my destiny, I don’t care if that train comes I will let it go by there are always other trains and even if there are not other women still there are other lives.



I have the patience to heal to live in forms unreal, to breathe through my ass while the world holds my head in shit for lifetimes because my uncontainable soul is grounded in the beauty of the very first moment I saw the world, I did not cry as a child, yes I had to wash my face many times because of you that I was perfect acted perfect and didn’t understand why we could not be perfect together, you simply did not trust perfect for perfection, true perfection has no want. The only time I ever really wanted you was when I was losing my perfection and no one could love me but you, but you always said, just take it one day at a time. There was more, much more but this magic marker is getting me high.



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GOD IS A VAMPIRE

18:38 Dec 07 2006
Times Read: 685


This I posted in the Bel Obscuridad forum of my house, it was a gift since they allowed me to enter. You can't walk through the door with nothing.





God is a vampire because in allowing evil and suffering we have the desire in the examination of our mortality to make one stand to do something right and beautiful for the world and if we do get it done, then there is an imoortality of sorts. I am lucky to achieve that first life mission. I have many more, but first I just want to relax. Here is the body of the text...



God is a Vampire, as the smashing Pumpkins sing. I do not think one can do no wrong in life, there is no such thing as a wrong turn, there are only detours.



The end of the trip is magical. The worst thing you can do in life is to tell people the end of the trip. I will tell you what I learned.



Going into the final day of getting the body back really, to tell you the truth I was scared. The only way I would be resurrected was if I really was whom I pretended to be. I didn’t know, I could walk the walk and talk the talk, and I had never been knocked down after my first fight, but still I was overwhelmed and scared I was inadequate. There was no fear, I put my trust in something outside of myself, some force of nature that stays in control, and I let go and it brought me peace to face the final day. I knew if I screwed it up I would die.



Now the main distinction between men and women is that men have to be real, they have to back up everything, and life is not an act at all, even if it is an act, still they must be convincing, and ultimately perform to please the woman. That cannot be faked. The last test was just the same. The devil was at my side helping me, and God held out a helping hand, but I failed. I was only human. I didn’t give up really I just conceded that I was inadequate, and to stop trying so hard for the moment, and let go. If I was to die, it would be alright, I had tried my best. You can never have regrets when you have tried your best. What ever that force be, the thing that took my diseased body and brought it back to 16, the last lesson was humility. I truly lost humility when I got this body, it was a power trip that used me, and it covered up the beauty and innocence of childhood.



I was lost with power, and I forgot that the man in me was an act so convincing that I even believed it, but I am a child inside. That is what I found in the apex of my soul. I heard my baby voice, then I implanted a memory of that day, the talk I had with to ladies friends in a diner. One lady remembered the day I went to visit her husband ten years ago, she remembers how I had to close the door on her to tell him something behind his great grande big desk of his.



Pat, I think I am leaving my body.



No Coach, you’ll be alright you’ll see.



Now Pat was right, he might not have known the truth, but there is a force of nature that even protects us from ourselves, and somehow it can even bring you back from the brink of death every time. When someone is in dire straits and you don’t know what to tell them, just tell them, not to have hope that everything will be alright, but in actuality everything really will, and you can bet on it. I have been diseased living in forms of bodily expression none of you can imagine, many a man would have killed themselves 20 times to get to the point where I got, but I never gave up. I thought I was smart enough to simply exist without too much pain. I did the right thing, I researched, I learned, I read medical papers, and I even finished some books on the side and was responsible in my lifeforce. And you know what? The damn body heals itself if you give it a chance, I didn’t drink, I didn’t drug, and I simply waited even though I knew there was no way back to being pure. I would even go without love, you know. I was not worthy of love, but that didn’t mean I was not to love myself. Giving up the dream of love precludes the need for a significant other to be there for us to force us to love ourselves and live life right for them. I lived life right for me, but I had dignity. Something was happening that I had lost control over and it was consuming and corrupting my body, and so I ran away to die, and you all know the story I made a miraculous comeback merely because in the time it took to roll a cigarette in Cortland NY, too lazy to turn the TV to a channel I saw an access channel advertising a softball league, which I said to myself, you know, it might be some good to me to play ball. I took a team that hadn’t won one game in three years, and they rode me to the playoffs and took first place. I don’t think they are called the Groton Rottens anymore.



I didn’t want to come back to NYC, but part of Cortland used me wrong and some of it used me right, but the balance thrust me back to the place I belonged. Being the MVP in the league and stepping away from paralyzing medicine that healed by compromising major systems, I was back, and I will tell you this, no one on the planet had a better summer than me. The people who were along for the ride can attest to that, the dust in my pockets took me far, and yet on the inside I knew I was dying, but I didn’t let anyone know I was burning in hell. I wasn’t in denial, I was finishing my father’s book on the war steadily, but it was no rush job, I had time, but by the end of the book, my life would be over. Then things got worse, I had to juggle demons, just when I had solved one, and the book wasn’t finished, and if I stayed in NYC I would have died and there would be no book. I had to get out, and so I went to Providence.



I got the feeling that while I was there I was not the first burning man writer to come there to finish a book before I died, and I let her have it. Afterwards, with the book 99% complete at this writing, she said, yeah, you were the third writer on that death bed. See many people when they are dying are going to give up on doing something for the world that is beautiful, and I did it for everybody, and this kept me alive today, that was the one thing that made a difference, that when real love passed me by, I loved my father instead, and did something real. Now I can see through my father, and my father accepts all I had to do to limp through life as a torn up rag doll, and it is quite sad, people think I am crazy for the admissions of my behavior, but you see, I had to tell somebody the truth, other wise my antics would haunt me and then I would want to die. Friends in essence for me are secret bearers, you tell them the way you live, because I feel the need to be true, and then, well, they are mirrors to us, and we can change if their response to our lifeforce is something we ourselves can take or not. I never changed, I kept on trucking, but it was nice to see how my true friends saw me, of which there are so few. It takes decades to really know someone, and I know they are all going to be angry at me for the pictures I paint of them in my memoirs, but, they know going into a relationship with me, I am going to tell all how it is, like it is, and I am going to go to the top of it by starting at the bottom. Now I am humble, life is worth the trip, so stick around, none of us are losers, unless we give up, we all have a piece of the puzzle, the world is there to make you doubt your value, degrade your value, but inside, there is some flame that sustains our self, we need not carry wood, we need not do anything but be ourselves and accept what ever limited role in life, for the time being, because my father is right, life is a marathon, and no body loses as long as we keep running.


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