wake-memento mori
……And as I opened my eyes into the present, his gaze caught me and I fell. This gaze had lulled me from my slumber and back into him. This look had nearly pierced me as I woke into those eyes that I knew I would exist behind before he laid them upon me……I won't pretend that I could read his mind in this moment, I don't think I could ever know what he was thinking. I only remember that everything was still. My mind lay thoughtless and sedated for hours afterward.
I have decided to put this “soul/life/[God]searching” on hold, it was taking so much out of me. I believe I was very close in achieving “something” or grasping an idea a bit more tightly but it seems it is currently just out of reach. I will have to sit under the tree and wait for the apple to fall to me... While it ripens I have decided to move on to something more tangible, a lover. A lover who I have happily given my nature and celibate mentality while he eagerly submits to my womanhood and allows me every pleasure of it.
This character, tossed into my path has currently withdrawn my thoughts from my own morality through his mastery of. He seems to embody everything that I have been juggling for the last few months. This man is like a walking purgatory. He bears a crucifix around his neck that he never takes off, and he has scarred his skin with his religion. On his right arm he bears markings in his flesh that resemble stained glass and on his left a struggle between good and evil. He dreams with a bible close to him and has Psalms 23:4 inscribed in his flesh.
“Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death….”
This mans sweet, passive nature keeps him very unassuming. He has delivered himself to me as a child in things said and done deliberately and things not said and done deliberately. He insisted that I read one of the many books that he keeps, one being very obviously titled…. “Angels and Demons”, by Dan Brown.
{ More coincidences…..another script…}
I love listening to the evolution of the songs that he is composing/reconfiguring after we lay together. I find a great bit of pleasure in making him sweat, and hearing him continue to moan while he sleeps.
This one should play out very interestingly…..
He made me consider the following.....
*We give flowers on different occasions.
Offerings for our weddings, funerals, sweethearts, birthdays... etc.
I suppose they represent sacrafice, and the essence and orgins of nature. They also represent instinct, vulnerability, and nurture but most importantly they represent death/thantos, and Eros/love. A beautiful, fragrant memento mori, a gift of love/and the present*, and a reminder of the cruel significance of time/mortality.
"Hamlet"- Ophelia, in one of her weakest moments gives out bones/sticks and refers to them as different types of flowers. She became as a grim reaper.
Lastly-...I have been around children who have given such things as gifts before they became secular minded fools. The act is more important than the object. There is a wonder and innocence in the mundane. Another aspect to ponder.
Secular...( bad word ).... religion is of the world, is the world, it's impossible to seperate the two.
Secular should be a synonym for religious.
I have decided to put this “soul/life/[God]searching” on hold, it was taking so much out of me. I believe I was very close in achieving “something” or grasping an idea a bit more tightly but it seems it is currently just out of reach. I will have to sit under the tree and wait for the apple to fall to me... While it ripens I have decided to move on to something more tangible, a lover. A lover who I have happily given my nature and celibate mentality while he eagerly submits to my womanhood and allows me every pleasure of it.
This character, tossed into my path has currently withdrawn my thoughts from my own morality through his mastery of. He seems to embody everything that I have been juggling for the last few months. This man is like a walking purgatory. He bears a crucifix around his neck that he never takes off, and he has scarred his skin with his religion. On his right arm he bears markings in his flesh that resemble stained glass and on his left a struggle between good and evil. He dreams with a bible close to him and has Psalms 23:4 inscribed in his flesh.
“Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death….”
This mans sweet, passive nature keeps him very unassuming. He has delivered himself to me as a child in things said and done deliberately and things not said and done deliberately. He insisted that I read one of the many books that he keeps, one being very obviously titled…. “Angels and Demons”, by Dan Brown.
{ More coincidences…..another script…}
I love listening to the evolution of the songs that he is composing/reconfiguring after we lay together. I find a great bit of pleasure in making him sweat, and hearing him continue to moan while he sleeps.
This one should play out very interestingly…..
He made me consider the following.....
*We give flowers on different occasions.
Offerings for our weddings, funerals, sweethearts, birthdays... etc.
I suppose they represent sacrafice, and the essence and orgins of nature. They also represent instinct, vulnerability, and nurture but most importantly they represent death/thantos, and Eros/love. A beautiful, fragrant memento mori, a gift of love/and the present*, and a reminder of the cruel significance of time/mortality.
"Hamlet"- Ophelia, in one of her weakest moments gives out bones/sticks and refers to them as different types of flowers. She became as a grim reaper.
Lastly-...I have been around children who have given such things as gifts before they became secular minded fools. The act is more important than the object. There is a wonder and innocence in the mundane. Another aspect to ponder.
Secular...( bad word ).... religion is of the world, is the world, it's impossible to seperate the two.
Secular should be a synonym for religious.