Monday, December 31, 2007


2007 has come and gone and you guys were here with me for most of it. Thanks for a great year, and thanks for having enough gumption and strength to stick with me through the whole thing. (Not everyone can do that, you know!) Here's to another exciting year of drama. (That is what keeps you coming here, is it not??)

May your 2008 be wonderful and great!

Sunday, December 30, 2007

Khalil Gibran - The Prophet - Chapter 2

I know it's been a while since I read chapter 1, but here is chapter 2 for your enjoyment. I enjoy reading this, so I should hopefully get more chapters out, soon. If you have not listened to chapter 1, you may do so by clicking on the link following the player. The link will take you to my podcast blog.

Sophia W. Podcast

Saturday, December 29, 2007

My Sweet Wraith

It's possible that another wave of poetry energy is finding its way to me. This happened once or twice several years ago. Not all of my writing is going to be spiritual in nature, some of it is very human, or even very animal. I don't care that it's not any good. That doesn't matter. I just want to express myself.

Forsaken winds in the night
Come back to haunt me -
Memories, ghosts of yesterday
That flee through the mind.
I remember your cruelty,
You were playing with power.
Do you remember my love?
Back then all that we had
Was each other; That was enough.
But soon, a savage energy
Pervaded our bonds, turning
Our affections into hate.
We were like elemental mates,
Desire burned in our bones.
That rapture was so strong,
Too potent, we burned each other.
All those nights of envisioning,
Making love behind eyelids,
Pretending I could hear your heart,
Could you hear mine?

Burned with Divine Love, An Angel That Wants Devotion

A new discovery reveals two destinies linked -
Soul trails crossing that had before meandered.
Rays of sun peek into dark dusty heart's chambers
Once frostbitten, but now infused with warmth.
This is the first stage of a personal journey shared,
Experienced before seperately as two but now as One.
Now the jewel can be retrieved, years after losing it.
Frustrated with pain, suffering - That's the motivation,
To start not on an ordinary journey but one that is
Burning with the fires of divine love, a yearning,
To bring to extinction the animal within, forgetting
Eros, philos even, instead jumping right into the waters of agape.
In the depths of that deep blue, there will be tranquility.

Might I taste you?
Infection, impregnated
With an idea
What do you want?
Angel,Your wings are fluttering.

Friday, December 28, 2007

My Computer's Back

My computer at home is now back online. My new computer room, with the leisure blue walls, white wall shelves, new white blinds, washed curtains, new wood/pergo flooring, new quarter round and socket/switch plates is now much more comfortable to me and it's getting put back together, slowly. Now my life - along with the rest of the house - can return back to something like normalcy. Maybe, just maybe, I'll take a photograph and place it on this blog when things are put back into place.

I am so far behind on comments, I don't know that I'll get caught-up, so at this point I'll either start over on keeping up with them or I'll slowly, over time, answer them, one by one. I've read them all, whenever I was able to find a free moment at work. Speaking of work, I no longer have time to spend online and I doubt we will for the next year or so; it will be quite busy. I do sneakily visit my email from time-to-time, though, and all blog comments are sent to my email so I never miss a single one.

Monday, December 24, 2007

Merry Christmas to All

My sister, Santa and me
Me and Sis

Sis and me

Me and sis

Me and sis

Sis and me

Here it is, 8:20pm on Christmas Eve, and I'm finally getting around to wishing you all a Merry Christmas. I'm done wrapping presents and I'm contentedly sitting here at my computer desk with a purring Pollyanna sitting upon my lap, looking up at me and staring. She was my Christmas gift to myself, and boy is she affectionate! I have to be careful; already my favorite, Peachy, is mad at me and avoids me now. She's walked in twice to sit on my lap and has caught a new cat in her place. I've made efforts to push the new cat off my lap when this happens, so that Peachy knows she's still number One, but she is just ignoring me the past few days. I hope she gets over this. If there is anyone who believes that animals have no feelings, let them witness this little adventure and may they change their ways!

I was just telling a friend in email about how we spent Christmas as children, my sister and I. We'd put Mom's homemade cookies on a plate, along with a tall glass of milk and some carrots. The cookies and milk of course were for Santa, but the carrots were for the reindeer. Christmas morning, we'd run to the plate to joyfully find only crumbs and a sip of milk left. Some Christmases in the early morning, as we still lay sleeping in our beds, we'd hear Santa let out a booming "Ho, Ho, Ho!" that signaled his departure from our house. That meant it was time to get up and run to the tree to cheerfully open presents. Santa usually brought us everything we asked for - me, a castle for my He-Man toys, a bike and figurines, my sister, a dollhouse and pretty pink dresses. I can't think of anything that I didn't get that I wanted, so I feel satisfied that Christmas was everything it should have been to me as a child. My parents did a wonderful job of seeing to that, even though Mom didn't work, and Dad worked at the railroad. We weren't rich by any means. It amazes me to this day that they got us everything we told Santa about.
These were the Christmases that I used to look forward to. Granted, Christmas back then was all about getting presents. As an adult of almost 30, Christmas means more to me than just presents, although it is still a lot of fun to receive presents, as well as give. It's about spending time with family. (It was about that as a kid, only back then, it was "I can't wait for Grandma and Grandpa to leave so I can play with my toys.")
Sadly, Christmas is not as much fun to me now as it was back then. There's just too much to do: Christmas cards, shopping in madhouses, wrapping presents, etc. Then there is the "package deal", which is where along with family that I enjoy spending time with, I also have to spend time with people that are part of the deal, i.e. people that visit that I don't really care to see. Basically, it's also being around people I don't want to be around. Also, this year a depressive episode came right at Christmas time, which kept me from obtaining that feel-good Christmas feeling, where listening to Christmas music gives that warm cozy feeling. I didn't get that this year. To me, Christmas is just going to be another day, when I will patiently wait to come home to go to sleep so that I can go to work tomorrow. I'm not trying to be a grinch or a scrooge, it's just that as the years have progressed, and especially this year, Christmas just doesn't mean much to me. I didn't put up a single decoration this year, not even the small bookshelf tree that we usually put up. Some things this holiday season have brought me down a bit, so I won't get to have a real true fun Christmas. Oh well, boo-hoo.
Well, instead of whining and complaining, I do want to take time out tonight, on Christmas Eve, to say that I'm thankful for all the visits and comments you guys have given me since February on this blog. A lot of you have been here since the beginning, and I'm not just talking about the beginning of this blog, but the beginning of a blog I had way back in 2004. That means I've been talking to some of you for more than three years! (I need to get back in touch with Charlie, who is an "online friend" that I've had since 2000 when I was in college.) This blog is very much a part of my identity. I think of all of you as friends. That's one gift that keeps on giving.
I would name each and every one of my visitors, like I did a few posts ago, but I realized that I forgot to name Lucid, who is someone that's been visiting since this blog's inception. I'm not going to take any risks this time, so I will not name you all, just know that I love you all.
Merry Christmas, everyone. I hope your day is bright, joyful, loving, fulfilling and just plain fun.

Saturday, December 22, 2007

A Delightful Gift

I received an extraordinary Christmas gift a few days ago, and I wanted to share it with the world. It comes from Jim, an exceptionally talented gentleman that I met online in October of 2005. Many of you probably know Jim, and if you know him like I know him, you'll know he has a heart bigger than the state of Texas. (Pun intended!) Jim freely gives his love energy to everyone he meets. He gives so much of it away, that I sometimes wonder if he saves any for himself. One thing I know for sure, is that he's never seemed to run out of his supply! He's never gotten tired of hearing me whine, and has this magical way of being around whenever I'm feeling gloomy. He's a guy that's full of sincerity and charm.

As you no doubt know, recently I've been going through another cycle of complaining and whining about gloomy, dark and stormy things, like I sometimes do. (God bless you all for enduring yet another round.) Jim's gift has brought a lot of love and light into my night, and has caused my spirits to soar. I'm still floating! He's just an all around talented genius. After you read the poem, go and check out some of his artwork. (My favorite pieces of his can be seen at the aforementioned link.)

Thanks, Jim!

And now, the amazing poem that Jim wrote for me:


Out of a Dark and dreary Day, attacks and stabs did Rain,
Beat and hurt, Wounded bad, my Voice sang a Sad refrain.
God where I knew not When, nor How to get there Soon,
Just hope and Me, in deep debris, my Eyes stared at the Moon.

On keyboard Pads and lightened Screens, paths Tangled inbetween,
Computers hummed and speakers Blared, daunting voices Screamed.
Electric lights and condensors Squeezed, the words Danced in Glassy Reams,
Hopes and fears of Real live Life, spiraled round, the Written Dreams.

Ships of Songs, in Addresses long, and Dot coms of this, and that,
Rang Bells of clanging, ding dong Chimes, and Windows of Hearts, that Wept.
To myself with Letters, clicked in type, that Strung in chains, like Tunes,
Dirges mired, in Ageold tales, and Rainbows, ran Round the Silver Spoons.

"I don't know", in Thought I said, as Software, loaded long,
"I don't know, if there is for Me, any such, Electronic Song."
But Here, at Once, a Name Appeared! Bulletin from out the Blue,
"Stay, See, let me show You round, and Talk to me of Truth!"

From Whence, come, this Lovely Sound, this Invite, to glints of Day,
I was just leaving here, as Notes of Cheer, Rang Bells in Her Special Way.
"Okay, I'll Stay and See you near, Talk and maybe try to Be,
The Self I once Was, in better times, when I Was, a better me."

Keyboards Blazed with Flaming Fires of Thoughts, and Meanings flew,
She bowled me over with Hopeful Love, and unflinching, Spoke the Truth.
What forms the rapid clicking Keys, What unselfish Gifts abound,
In this Heart, this Human girl, in All this hardware, I Think I've Found?

Months and months of Talk and talk, of Emails and Comments too,
Like Solar systems and Cosmic realms, of electrons, dripping Dew.
On Earths of screens, and blinking Lights, Stars raced, round the Room,
Emails sped and Servers fled, the raging Torrents Gently crooned.

Oh, how these Times began, between Us and I found my tune so True,
How words Spoke as when I was Young, before the bullets flew.
She brought Me glee and filled My files, She lifted my Spirits high,
But Real She was, so I could Feel, her Words canceled the Ageold lies.

How Real her Life, I Feel her So, thru glass and metal frames,
I thank Her, always, for Being so, it ain't easy, to ride these Trains.
And She knows, the Journey in her Heart, She Suffers, as We do,
She Stands, and doesn't run away, takes breaks, and gets back to You.

The Whistles blow, the Rails Ring hard, the Sounds are Signs she Sees,
"Stay, See, Talk to me," She invites us quick, to come into Her Rooms.
And when we enter into those Depths, our Realness we quickly meet,
She cuts you slack, because She Knows, Forgiveness, is her Treat.

Love Life, in spite of it, let Life, Love you back,
Stand your Ground, no matter, how hard it gets to Be,
Remember long, as Long we can, Be in touch, and let Us see,
"Stay, See," and Talk with Her, may She always Talk to me.

To my Friend, my Mentor in the Blogging Medium, Thanks for everything, Always, Love!

PS: Happy Channukah, and a Merry Christmas to you S.W. from Jim C.

Friday, December 21, 2007


I was able to bring home my new little girl tonight. She was drunk from her spay surgery. She wobbled everywhere and looked up at me cross-eyed. She is seven or eight months old and has been hanging around the neighborhood for a couple months. She was living in a cardboard box on one of the neighbor's back porches, but he said he didn't want to take her in because his girlfriend is due to have a baby in January. Well, she's mine now! :) The girlfriend wanted the cat but was glad that someone was taking her in. The nights have been getting cold. I'm glad she has a place, now, just in time for Christmas.

She's apparently been in a cat fight because there is a big scratch across her nose. She'll probably have a scar. I guess an appropriate nickname for her might be "Scarface". :)

She hasn't been around my other cats very long yet. Peachy hissed at her, but only because I put Pollyanna in her room. Pancho was glad to have another female in his harem. Penelope was inquisitive; I'm surprised she didn't go on a rampage. My dog Peabody of course wanted to chase her around, but I wouldn't let him. I hope he isn't too much of a brute. We'll see after she heals from her surgery.

Thanks for your comments on my earlier posts. I'll respond to them later. I'm still feeling withdrawn but I wanted to show a picture of something that is giving me happiness at the moment.

Monday, December 17, 2007

Senseless Nonsense

Longing for yesterday,
When the honeysuckles bloomed
And the wind blew free in the wild blue.
Butterflies stirred and birds, too;
They lighted upon my shoulder.
That was when you said "hello"
And I smiled.

Tonight the distance is near;
The end of infinity comes upon us.
We reach the end of the universe;
The only direction we can go is back.
Together, let's turn around.

Listen, to the rhythm of your heartbeat.
thum-pum, thum-pum, thum-pum
Nature's drum
Feel the pounding in your chest
Hark! You are alive!
The only thing you have to do is live.

I sit and wait for your silence
Any silence but yours is noise

I don't know when or why,
I waited for your temper but found my own.

Hippies aren't Helpless

From a dream I had either last night or the night before:

"We wanted to help you, but we thought you were fine on your own. After all, you're hippy-ish."

I'm not really a hippy, I'm just casual.

Sunday, December 16, 2007

Chaos in the Abode

My house is chaotic at present moment. My computer is under a dropcloth, unplugged and pulled-out from the wall. Everything - with the exception of my computer desk - that was in the computer room is sitting in my living room. There is painter's equipment here and there, and new flooring sitting in boxes in my kitchen waiting to be installed in the computer room. The house looks like a construction zone and there's not even a place for a small electric Charlie Brown-ish Christmas tree.

I haven't done Christmas cards yet and I'm absolutely dreading it, but I must as I feel it is my duty to at least send cards to those that have sent me cards. There are Christmas presents scattered throughout the house that I haven't wrapped yet. I don't even know what all I've bought so I may have to do more shopping. One present needs to be boxed and brought to the post office to be mailed; if I don't do it tomorrow or Tuesday it might not make it to its recipient before Christmas.

I like Christmas, but I honestly can't wait for January 1st to come so that I can relax back into normalcy. I have plans for January, such as making my fractal art that I haven't made since April of this year. I'm going to sit and read more. I'm going to watch some movies that I haven't even opened since Christmas of last year. (My poor father visited today and was looking through my DVD collection. He noticed that I hadn't opened a movie he got for me last year and I could tell in his voice that he was a little disappointed. It's a movie from 1971 that he'd really like for me to see, along with its sequel that came packaged with the movie.) Most importantly, though, I just want to start creating art, again.

I really want to know, and I hope you'll tell me in the comments: What do you wish for this Christmas?

(I'll respond to comments HOPEFULLY tomorrow during lunch break at work.)

Thursday, December 13, 2007


Lately I've been spinning out-of-control, and I feel as if I'm about to burst at the seams. I feel angry at the world and many of the people in it. More and more lately I'm shutting myself up in a small room and closing the door. Today at work I couldn't stop tears from flowing as I laid my head down on my desk. I can't pretend anymore that my world is free of negativity.

I'm not sure if this is a medication issue. I'm scared and unsure of anything right now. This medication has helped me to become more active in life again, and has taken away most of my depression. I feel more physically awake than I have in years, since 2004. I've slept a lot less, although I do still occasionally sleep all day on the weekends. What I am most pleased about is that I'm able to get-up and go to work without feeling like someone needs to drag me into the office. This medication has worked miracles for my career, and it was very timely as I was about to give-up on working.

The price, though, is that I've become very angry lately, and am easily irritated and frustrated. Not only is this bad for my health, it's not good for my relationships. I've been down and out rude to people. What, you guys thought I was Miss Friendly all the time?

I sit here and I feel like I'm wound-up tight, a rubber band about to break. I've therefore made the decision to start weaning myself off the miracle drug. What this means is that I may face depression again. I've been telling myself and others that all the anxiety was fine as long as I wasn't depressed, but I'm starting to feel like the anxiety, anger and severe frustration is worse than the depression. I'd rather be polite and depressed than mean and content.

I feel like it would be nice to be held by a fatherly figure, and told that everything is going to be alright. That's the child in me. She just wants everything to be alright. It must be an inner-child insecurity issue.

I'm also very selfish and have neglected many of my blog friends and pen pals. I'm just stuck in this little goldfish bowl and all I can do is think about myself. "Oh, poor Sophia." It's a bunch of needless self-pity. I'm a big whiner.

So, there you have it. All that time I've spent trying to climb out of the human drama and I find myself right smack dab in the middle of it again. At this point I don't feel like enlightenment is even possible. It's just a pipe dream.

Tuesday, December 11, 2007

Maine, People?

For those of you that live in the United States, can you do me a favor? Will you keep an eye on your pocket change and see if you can find a Maine that isn't too shoddy?

I have all the quarters in my lovely states book, except for Maine. When and if I get one, I'll be up-to-date and can simply await the quarters that are to come. I was negligent for a while in keeping up with them. Now how I regret my negligence.


The Velveteen Sophia

I know what it feels like to be an old stuffed playtoy that can no longer service its owner. Or maybe I was dreaming.

Monday, December 10, 2007

I Love You

Mistaken about the origin of love, men are mistaken about its result. Positivistic and spiritistic morality equally recognize in love only one possible result--children, the propagation of the species. But this objective result, which may or may not be, is in any case an effect of the outer, objective side of love, of the material fact of impregnation. If it is possible to see in love nothing more than this material fact and the desire for it, so be it; but in reality love consists not at all in a material fact, and the results of it--except material ones--may manifest themselves on quite another plane. This other plane, upon which love acts, and the ignored, hidden results of love, are not difficult to understand, even from the strictly positivistic, scientific standpoint.

To science, which studies life from this side, the purpose of love is the continuation of life. More exactly, love is a link in the chain of facts supporting the continuation of life. The force which attracts the two sexes to each other is acting in the interests of the continuation of the species, and is accordingly created by the forms of the continuation of the species. But if we regard love in this way, then it is impossible not to recognize that there is much more of this force than is necessary. Herein lies the key to the correct understanding of the true nature of love. There is more of this force than is necessary, infinitely more. In reality only an infinitesimal part of love's force incarnate in humanity is utilized for the purpose of the continuation of the species. But where does the major part of that force go?

We know that nothing can be lost. If energy exists, then it must transform itself into something. Now if a merely negligible percentage of energy goes into the creation of the future by begetting, then the remainder must go into the creation of the future also, but in another way. We have in the physical world many cases in which the direct function is effected by a very small percentage of the consumed energy, and the greater part is spent without return, as it were. But of course this greater part of energy does not disappear, is not wasted, but accomplishes other results quite different from the direct function.

Take the example of a common candle. It gives light, but it also gives considerably more heat than light. Light is the direct function of a candle, heat the indirect, but we get more heat than light. A candle is a furnace adapted to the purpose of lighting. In order to give light a candle must burn. Combustion is a necessary condition for the receiving of light from a candle; it is impossible to ignore this combustion; but the same combustion gives heat. At first thought it appears that the heat from a candle is spent unproductively; sometimes it is superfluous, unpleasant, annoying; if a room is lighted by candles it will soon grow excessively hot. But the fact remains that light is received from a candle only because of combustion--by the development of heat and the incandescence of volatilized gases.

The same thing is true in the case of love. We may say that a merely negligible part of love's energy goes into posterity; the greater part is spent by the fathers and mothers on their personal emotions as it were. But this also is necessary. Without this expenditure the principal thing could not be achieved. Only because of these at first sight collateral results of love, only because of all this tempest of emotions, feelings, effervescences, desires, thoughts, dreams, fantasies, inner creations; only because of the beauty which it creates, can love fulfil its immediate function.

Moreover--and this perhaps is the most important--the superfluous energy is not wasted at all, but is transformed into other forms of energy, possible to discover. Generally speaking, the significance of the indirect results may very often be of more importance than the significance of direct ones. And since we are able to trace how the energy of love transforms itself into instincts, ideas, creative forces on different planes of life; into symbols of art, song, music, poetry; so can we easily imagine how the same energy may transform itself into a higher order of intuition, into a higher consciousness which will reveal to us a marvelous and mysterious world.

In all living nature (and perhaps also in that which we consider as dead) love is the motive force which drives the creative activity in the most diverse directions.



One thing about this that comforts me, is knowing that all the love I gave which I thought was lost was never really lost at all.

The Divine Self-Existent

"That the existence of the one God was widely known by some classes of men at least among the nations of antiquity there can be little doubt. Among the Chinese, according to the most eminent authority, Dr. Legge, the word Ti represented the same idea as we express by the word God; and its assumption as a title by the earliest dynasty of the Emperors of China would be quite in accordance with the ancient belief that the monarch ruled as the divine representative. When the disciples of Manu approached that sage to beg for instruction in the wisdom which afterwards formed the foundation of Indian law, they addressed him as follows: "For thou, O lord, alone knowest the purport (or rites) and the knowledge taught in the whole ordinance of the Self-Existent (Svayam bhu), which is unknowable and unfathomable." And their master, in his reply, laid down the principle of the One Uncreated God, the Giver of Light. "The Divine Self-Existent," he said, "indiscernible, making the elements and the rest discernible, appeared with creative force, dispelling the darkness.'

~The House of the Hidden Places, by W. Marsham Adams, [1895] page 83 and 84
I understand what this paragraph is trying to explain, but I have questions. By "the One Uncreated God", does he mean, God was never created but always existed? How can a God be uncreated yet appear with creative force? Or perhaps they meant that God always existed, but one moment appeared (out of nowhere?) with a force meant for creation. By "Self-Existent" does he mean God once existed only to Himself?

If we are One, and God is One, then it follows by logic that we, too, are God. If God always existed but was indescernible, then is creation the act of making God discernible, thus making us and everything else discernible?

Who among you would like to comment on this paragraph, or to further explain this statement: "The Divine Self-Existent, indiscernible, making the elements and the rest discernible, appeared with creative force, dispelling the darkness."

What do you think?

Thursday, December 6, 2007

I Didn't Mean It...

Sometimes I say things that I regret immediately after having said them. This has been happening a lot lately. It has to do with how irrational a person can be, and how much of a habit it has become to speak before thinking. Of course, what one's mood is in the moment this has occurred has a lot to do with it, but that is not an excuse.

Why do we hurt those that are closest to us? Is it fear of being so much alike that we'll lose our identity unless we leave a little bit of distance between us? Certainly most of us are not emotionally sadistic, but yet it happens. Some tiny part of us, inside, is like a little devil that says and does things that stings our allies, and we do this because? Because we want attention? Because we want revenge? Because we feel we have been wronged and must put-up a fight? Because we fear we'll lose our possession of them?

We call ourselves "spiritual" and yet we continue to do this?

We better not completely rid ourselves of thoughts, else we'll be shooting verbal arrows at each other in impromptu speech.

And that is my thought for today. (More like, one of them....)


A Real Santa

Earlier this evening I was feeding my elderly cat Peachy some canned cat food. She gets this treatment every night, while the other two cats are free-fed, because she's old and has trouble eating dry food and is very thin. After she's done eating in a closed room, there will usually be several bites left, and I'll give these to Pancho. Penelope gets a few bites as I'm preparing the meal in the beginning.
Tonight, after Peachy was done eating, I grabbed the plate and picked Pancho up and put him in his spot so he could eat the remaining bites. Penelope had already had some before all this started. But tonight, Penelope stuck her head in Pancho's way and started eating his food. Pancho, being a real gentleman, kindly stepped back and allowed her to eat. And, as if to further display his kindness, he started to bathe Penelope as she ate.
Now that's what I call a real giver. :)
(P.S. I hope you all aren't tired of hearing anectdotes about my pets in the midst of this blog which is supposed to be mostly spiritual, but every now and then I feel like telling their stories.)

Translator Please?

A problem arises when we don't know what our hearts want. This happens because the heart and the brain do not speak the same language.

Sorry 'bout That

Whoa... the post from below was written while under the influence of a sleeping pill. I have no idea what it means.

Wednesday, December 5, 2007

I Should have Asked Him

It's in the past now, and too late for me to make my move. I never properly asked and I know I had complained about difficulties. So is this why there is no more magic?

The teacher can never offer anything unless the recipient comes forward to meet him of his own free-will. But it must be emphasized that a general desire for higher knowledge is not sufficient. This desire will, of course, be felt by many, but nothing can be achieved by it alone so long as the special conditions attached to esoteric training are not accepted. This point should be considered by those who complain that the training is difficult. Failure or unwillingness to fulfill these strict conditions must entail the abandonment of esoteric training, for the time being. It is true, the conditions are strict, yet they are not harsh, since their fulfillment not only should be, but indeed must be a voluntary action.~Knowledge of the Higher Worlds and Its Attainment, by Rudolph Steiner, [1947], Chapter IV THE CONDITIONS OF ESOTERIC TRAINING


I've screwed up so many things before, so why not my esoteric training, were I
hypothetically receiving esoteric training? And what is the polite or formal way
to ask the teacher for his knowledge?

When I failed, the teachings stopped and the magic disappeared.

Of course there are other "teachers" out there that I could ask, but not without the wonderful introduction I had to my previous teacher. He is not a teacher anymore. He is just a man. But that was my fault because I was too lazy to do my assignments. So that level of teacher/student is gone and what's left are friendly hellos and how are yas. How's the weather... How are you? Oh, I'm fine, thank you for asking. It went from talking to Socrates to talking to a friend to talking to a man. I don't know which was better but I really enjoyed Socrates. The levels of our relationship have begun to taper off. Nicely, though, so that I could ease my way into it and it wouldn't be such a shocking blow to find out the magic man you put on a pedestal for much too long was really only a man. Just a man, a normal man in whom I had placed beliefs about that caused my delusions. Yes, I poisoned myself, so it was all my fault. My fault for living in a fairy tale world, my fault for escaping the real world to come to a place that seemed magical, and to a man that seemed he could show me the answers to the universe. But now, I see now, that it is almost certain that such a man does not exist. I still feel love in my heart for this magic man. Yes, he will always be a friend, but he is not the teacher I was looking for. That becomes obvious to me more and more these past months. I noticed that when I stopped being angry by his absenses, and when I no longer hungered for our deeper conversations, it meant I was back down off the cloud I was floating on in some fantasy story. Yes, after all these, I found out that he is just a man. Not a wizard, not a mage, not a teacher. It was just some fairy tale idea I had in my head.

I don't live in the real world. I don't want to be here. I'd rather be back in the fairy tale world. Right now I'm completely back within the everyday physical world doing everyday things having everyday chores and tasks and work, and t.v. and movies....but no magic.

I want the magic back.

Sunday, December 2, 2007

A 19-year old Saudi Woman....

Saudia Arabia has succeeded in adding to my recent displeasure with the Middle East. I have tried so hard to be a Pollyanna, loving everyone, being open-minded about different cultures and religions, but today I have been pushed too far. I absolutely cannot tolerate some of the Middle East's Islamic men's rule against women. These disgusting acts have tainted Islam.

A 19-year old gang-rape victim was originally sentenced to 90 lashes, because, before the event took place, she was meeting in a car with a male who was not her relative. She appealed the decision, and now, they've more than doubled her sentence because they claim she was using the media to her advantage! She is to receive 200 lashes and six months in prison.

This is just as ridiculous as flogging a woman because she allowed her students to name a teddy bear "Mohammad".

To all misogynistic and sadistic men in the Middle East (and only these types): GET A LIFE! GROW UP! You are like little boys on the playground! You have no idea how absurd and preposterous your behavior is. The only thing it proves is that you are shaking at the knees at the very thought of letting a woman use her intellect freely in your country, because you fear she would be your better.

Ignore This Post

I just needed a place to put an image so that someone in a free tech support forum can help me figure out how to fix a problem I'm having.

How is this for a wonderfully exciting late Saturday night post?