tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-51513317221581896932024-03-04T23:26:17.787-08:00Brain FoodKassandrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10374564708200913131noreply@blogger.comBlogger158125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5151331722158189693.post-41954020310614759902023-12-07T16:11:00.000-08:002023-12-07T16:11:43.070-08:00My throat chakra
has been castratedKassandrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10374564708200913131noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5151331722158189693.post-46008167478076325332023-11-23T23:11:00.000-08:002023-11-23T23:11:13.143-08:00Active Imagination Notes 01I am walking along a path in the woods. I come upon a wrought-iron gate and it leads to a secret garden. There is a bench, so many colorful flowers, and the sunlight hits the grass in one spot of the garden in a way that is so beautiful. There is a willow tree and I approach it. It is my friend. I see a flash of white and think that it is a rabbit. It turns out to be a dove, and it coos at me and then beckons me to follow as it flies off. I follow it to a cave back beyond the garden. The further back and down I go in the cave, the darker it gets, but the dove shows me a translucent blue light in the wall of the cave, like a portal door. I step through it.
Suddenly I am suspended in primordial space, not standing on anything, but not feeling like I am floating either. Just in it. It is bright rainbow white, pure light, and I almost feel like I could cut myself on it. I am slowly spinning around in this space, then I see the light coalesce into a bright colorful stained glass window of reds, blues, golds. I am able to step through the window.
I realize I am in a house, somewhat like a cabin. It is modern and cozy but has some ancient and medieval decor, like the stained glass window. I get the sense someone eccentric lives here. I realize that the window looks out over the garden I had been in prior - the house is sort of up on a hill above it. I notice a table with evidence someone had eaten here somewhat recently.
There is a chair by the window and a side table. A tobacco pipe is on the table, as well as a quill and ink pot. I sense an elderly man live(s/d) here.
I see a letter on the side table. It says "I have looked out this window for quite some time now. Perhaps too long. I would like to take an adventure."
I go to the front door of the house. I open it up to a new path. I am overwhelmed by how golden it is, like everything is made of real gold. In the distance, I see a bright red jewel, like a ruby, hovering over the horizon.
Kassandrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10374564708200913131noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5151331722158189693.post-25645067764780297152017-12-03T12:54:00.000-08:002019-12-16T19:45:58.138-08:00He and She1.<br />
Troubled.<br />
Troubled are the waters<br />
rushing through his head;<br />
the undertow carries away <br />
all good things<br />
to be smashed into the <br />
rocks.<br />
Angry.<br />
Blood boils over low heat,<br />
and it burns;<br />
he's easily maddened,<br />
but rightfully so.<br />
Haunted.<br />
Every turn of a corner<br />
begets a new horror;<br />
he's locked in a sinister <br />
old house filled with <br />
demons.<br />
Dark.<br />
The darkness gets so lonely at times.<br />
It isn’t much unlike the womb,<br />
except that it lacks any semblance <br />
of comfort,<br />
and <span style="font-style: italic;">this</span> womb belongs to<br />
a teasing<br />
tormentor.<br />
Sleepless.<br />
Because when he sleeps<br />
the restraints on his mind<br />
become unfettered,<br />
and his soul vomits all of that<br />
evil.<br />
<br />
(He cannot escape it.)<br />
<br />
2.<br />
Innocent.<br />
Like a child,<br />
her inability to grasp<br />
the darkness<br />
makes it impossible to try<br />
to explain to her.<br />
Pure.<br />
The way she softly smiles<br />
when she sleeps<br />
says that there are no nightmares;<br />
she is not disturbed,<br />
for there is nothing disturbing<br />
inside of her.<br />
Nurturing.<br />
Like a mother to its child.<br />
She may not want children,<br />
but she treats everyone<br />
as though they're hers.<br />
Naive.<br />
She thinks that she knows<br />
the things of torment,<br />
but she has never heard<br />
malicious voices<br />
as she lies in bed alone<br />
at night.<br />
Good.<br />
There is only goodness inside of her<br />
and she knows it.<br />
She retches over indecent actions,<br />
like someone chopping off an ear,<br />
or a man being fed his own<br />
brain.<br />
<br />
He looks on her and something<br />
good swells up in his chest.<br />
She looks at him and is filled with<br />
sweet sadness.<br />
Each craves the other for entirely different reasons;<br />
they're just not the same kind of creature.Kassandrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10374564708200913131noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5151331722158189693.post-62212420332424465112017-01-04T10:47:00.001-08:002019-12-16T19:55:26.778-08:00I was at this...house.<br />
Rich people, huge huge house, babysitting their son while they were gone for a weekend or something.<br />
[other stuff concerning this babysitting weekend/the son that I don't remember]<br />
<br />
Went somewhere with heidi and realized that I had taken the rich people's car instead of my own (I didn't have mine because I left it _____). There's a...party.<br />
One of the party favors I get is weird. There are these boxes and in them is a trinket and a perfume. They are sort of Alice themed; plain colors and text, and no pictures, but they seemed Alice themed because the first one I noticed said something about losing your mind.<br />
<br />
We want to go home, but can't find the car.<br />
I remember where I parked it and am very nervous it got towed.<br />
We're walking back and there is this guy; heidi knows his name, I know who he is but I can't remember, and it turns out he was looking for me and MY car (didn't realize that I had taken the nice car). He asks if he can borrow it because he has something he needs to do LIKE NOW.<br />
(note: later in the dream, I can't remember how or why, but we watch THIS GUY'S memory of what that situation was from his perspective, which is cool. He has a face on the back of his head, which is important somehow, but also can't remember this)<br />
<br />
Somehow we arrive back at the house. I yell at colleen for wanting to go home without helping everyone else clean up. Then I remember the countless times she took out the trash/recycling and I never helped her, lol oops! So I feel bad. And dumb.<br />
<br />
There is something horrific on the TV. Something happened to a little girl named Nancy, and there is a documentary about her. We don't watch it, but Heidi starts talking about the Aliens and Galactic War and future of earth and she's sort of preaching it at someone, which is abnormal, and Alan says, "Heidi. Stop. Heidi please, chill" while pointing at the TV screen. "Stop staring at the screen." I look and every time Heidi's voice raises, the TV which is turned OFF flashes back on for a second to show a picture of Nancy and her Mom.<br />
<br />
There's commotion about a guy who stole a boat (the place we're at is suddenly a cool wooden porch on a beach mansion, right) so we're looking at the boat and we find out...something...about the guy that makes me realize he's going to kill himself. Everyone is watching, videotaping, laughing, and the guy stops the boat and stands up and I know he's going to do something weird, like maybe jump?<br />
I look away for a bit because I notice a person to my left (whom I know) is doing something very creepy...he has hundreds of pictures of peoples faces (candid) that he's editing, including the boat guy who he now informs me killed a girl by slashing her neck. I can't stop looking at boat guy and I know that somehow this is going to draw his attention to me.<br />
<br />
Lo and behold, I'm in a room with someone and boat guy is there. I notice a knife behind his back. The other person gets away, which hardly mattered because he was coming for me anyway. I scream and scream at Heidi and Alan, who are in the next room, but no one comes to help me. I actually wonder if this is a test LOL. Turns out whether or not it is a test, there is DEFINITELY a guy I need to kill before he kills me (oop)<br />
<br />
Somehow I get the knife away from him, or maybe get my own, and I get him in a position where I can kill him. I slice the knife across his neck but it isn't hard enough, it barely cuts him on the surface, and he mocks me(?) and tells me I have to really mean it. So I press really, really, really fucking hard. It's visceral as it tears his neck open and I don't even look, I can feel it, and I don't stop to watch him die (weird thought, because I don't know why I would wanna do that).<br />
<br />
I run out of the room kinda bloody and I say "I killed him. I killed a person" and somehow get the point across that it was "self defense" but Heidi looks at me kind of...annoyed? disappointed?<br />
I'm very upset now about ending a human life without thinking over other options first. I ask Heidi why she is upset, ask her if I should have just let him kill me. She says, "Well, in my opinion you shouldn't kill a person. And if he had killed you, that's kind of the beauty of the way life works; you would have been better off in the end."<br />
<br />
I think about karmically how that makes sense, I guess, lol(?) and get more and more upset with myself for taking someone's life. I wonder if it was self-defense at all, retrospectively, and someone tells me I need to go outside and call the cops now. The weirdest thing is that the body is now my cat's body (Irwin), I guess because I can't deal with seeing the human body of someone I killed....(ohhhhhhhh shittttt).<br />
<br />
Suddenly I'm outside and I'm in my underwear but my top and bra are off and I freak out and think about how I can't talk to the cops like that, but I don't know where my clothes are. I want a cigarette SO BADLY but I don't have any because they had all spilled through the cracks in the wooden stairs earlier in the dream.<br />
<br />
I "wake up" and say "THE MEEK SHALL INHERIT THE EARTH. IT WAS ALL A DREAM, SO I GET TO DO IT THE RIGHT WAY NOW."Kassandrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10374564708200913131noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5151331722158189693.post-47331033920625219202016-09-04T20:37:00.001-07:002019-12-15T11:46:41.016-08:00Lord's Prayer Dream(I was maybe 10-11 years old when I had this dream)<br />
<br />
It was Halloween, and we were in my parents' old house. That house was structured as such that you could start in the living room, go through the computer room into the kitchen, go through the kitchen into the laundry room, through the laundry room into my parents' bedroom, through my parents' bedroom into the hall, through the hall back into the living room. My parents' old house had a circular layout.<br />
<br />
It was Halloween, and there was a Halloween party, and everyone was eating a special kind of snack cake. Everyone turned into a particular type of creature as a result of eating this. I was terrified.<br />
<br />
In my parents' bed was Xena, Warrior Princess.<br />
<br />
My parents were there. My mom's head transformed into an anthropomorphic, red Ford pickup truck. My dad's head transformed into that of a goblin.<br />
<br />
Somehow, a suave, dark, evil(?) man teleported me to a place that was....a large, dark, expansive room with absolutely no furniture. Much like a warehouse. There were many other kids my age around. There was a little boy who looked like the boy from Stuart Little. He was meek/shy...he was an outcast.<br />
<br />
The man did not have any food for us. We were afraid we would starve. He pointed toward a large...winding tube delivery system from which plastic orbs containing wafers with "666" on them rolled down and landed in front of us. If you put these "666" wafer-orbs into a sort of microwave, they would turn into delicious food. We were so hungry.<br />
<br />
But I didn't trust the man. And neither did the Stuart Little boy. We were the only ones who wouldn't eat of it.<br />
<br />
The little boy bowed his head and started praying,<br />
<br />
"Our Father, who art in heaven, hallowed be Thy Name. Thy Kingdom come, Thy will be done, on Earth as it is in Heaven. Give us this day our daily bread..."<br />
<br />
...and a large pair of absolutely glorious hands reached down, holding out to us a loaf of warm bread.Kassandrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10374564708200913131noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5151331722158189693.post-36913109775213232282016-08-29T14:18:00.004-07:002019-12-15T11:48:00.072-08:00Dreams<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;">False Rapture(?) Dream</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;">(So, my friend Daniel and I dreamed of the same setting/story on the same night. this is how I described mine to him, so when it says "you," it means Daniel)</span><br />
<br style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;" />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;">In my dream, it was indeed at a place like you described. Two things that are important: I was bitten by a rattlesnake once, went to the hospital, and recovered. Then later in the dream, you warned someone else of a rattlesnake (not me) and told him to get down on the ground (but not me). I laid down anyway because I overheard you warning him, and I tried to be as still as possible, but the snake could sniff me out. I was flinching and twitching but trying to be still as I could. Then the snake passed "over" my body as it dug itself into dirt that I didn't even know was around me. It felt as though it burrowed THROUGH MY BODY now that I reflect back on it. Anyway, I thought it hadn't bit me, but later friends told me that it definitely did, because I had this particular black dot in between my pinky and ring finger that you get when a rattlesnake bites you.</span><br />
<br style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;" />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;">Next important part: I was sitting on a sort of grassy knoll with you. It was dark and it was like a summer camp almost. There were millions of people around. I was reading a text off to you that WAS SO IMPORTANT BUT I CANNOT REMEMBER IT, and you "psychically" predicted the last words (almost). "Plain as day" (you said "clear as day.") Then you were able to read minds, and you and I were both receiving an ungodly amount of information...essentially telling us it was time to Ascend (it was both metaphorical and physical? everyone was beckoned to get on a spaceship that was landing over the giant lake??) But you and I were like, "It's too soon to be able to decide what to make of this! It feels malicious, not Good at all!" Even though everything that was happening was very real, and something WAS metaphysically communicating with us, and everyone around us was excited and talking about how loving and beautiful it was......we made the decision not to Go. That it was bad to go, or at least that we would give up going *this time around* because we just did not have enough time to utilize our discernment.</span><br />
<br style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;" />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;">----------------------------</span><br />
<br style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;" />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;">Pure Light Dream</span><br />
<br style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;" />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;">I opened my eyes to find myself in my own bed, surrounded by prismatic rainbow light that took up space and existed physically where air takes up space in waking life. This glittering light gave my body a sensation that can only be described in words as "buzzing" or "vibrating." It conveyed an infinite wealth of information that I was able to perceive simultaneously/</span><wbr style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;"></wbr><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;">instantaneously/at the same time. Gabe was trying to talk to me about mundane, everyday life topics, and I realized that despite the information being communicated to me by this...light...I was still experiencing myself as a fleshly human and had to figure out a way to continue to do so. It seemed impossibly hard.</span><br />
<br style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;" />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;">Suddenly I was at work in the breakroom sitting across from Silas (who continues to be a grounding essence of comfort in all of my dreams these days). Silas was mid-sentence, and I heard, "Oh, yeah, I forgot that you saw Pure light." I realized that in the past, when I have heard the term "pure light" (e.g. we are made of pure light) I had been mishearing the inflection. While I had heard it as, "we are solely made of light," what it really referred to was light that is Pure, or that colorful, buzzing light that was conveying to me truth and wisdom of the universe.</span><br />
<br style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;" />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;">------------------------------</span><wbr style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;"></wbr><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;">--------</span><br />
<br style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;" />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;">7 Layer Dream</span><br />
<br style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;" />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;">We were at Verizon, and there was a sudden panic. A man, something threatening, they evacuated us and we stood outside in wait while a SWAT team intervened. A news crew stood outside and on a small monitor I saw the man. He was a Moslem man with a long, long white beard, and he was strapped to a sort of table. He was emaciated. I knew that I was dreaming, and I felt that he had something important to tell me. I looked into the small monitor and he looked back at me through the screen. He said a name...in an ancient language. Greek? Hebrew? I immediately pulled out my phone to search phonetically for the name he had given me. It was 2 words...the first started with a B, the second with an M. It reminded me of the Biblical names of demons or something. The information I found was important, and I tried desperately to hold on to it...</span><br />
<br style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;" />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;">...but I "woke up" in my bed. I checked my phone, and I was included in a group text with my friend Dan and many, many others. They were all discussing the dream. We'd had a shared dream, but none of us could remember the information we were given. I looked to Gabe, though, and was so excited to find that he'd been a part of it too. It was no longer a Secret if he were open and aware.</span><br />
<br style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;" />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;">Suddenly I was outside Verizon again, walking with my coworker Silas and his girlfriend Alyssa. I felt disoriented and confused, unsure whether or not I was dreaming. They felt vividly there, and as I turned a doorknob I thought to myself, "See? It's easy to tell the difference between dream and reality. A dream could never feel so real."</span><br />
<br style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;" />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;">I was awake in my bed again. I was frustrated that I had been wrong about being awake with Alyssa and Silas. I tried to go back to my phone's search history from the earlier dreamscape, and it wasn't there. I accepted that, because I was surely awake THIS time, and it made sense.</span><br />
<br style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;" />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;">Now I flash to a new dreamscape. I was part of a tour in a history museum, but I wandered from the group and began searching through books for the name the old man had said to me. I couldn't remember coherently enough to find it, so I left, and an old man wearing a long robe followed me out. I turned to my boss Jenn and asked her what to do about the man following me. She said that more isolated I was, the easier a target I would be. I turned back toward the museum to walk right past the man.</span><br />
<br style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;" />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;">Finally I was in a square rose garden like a park in New York City. There was a young man with me, and I attempted to tell him about the first dream I'd had, with the old Arab man and the name he had told me. I mistakenly said Balthazar, then Baal. The man was triggered by one (both?) of these names and turned into a vampyric creature who lunged at me while shrieking(?) I was able to keep him at arms' length while I begged myself to finally wake up. I tried to scream.</span><br />
<br style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;" />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;">I finally woke up (For Real, finally) after some time of bouncing back and forth between these dreamscapes. I was in a state of sleep paralysis until finally I came to, slowly, and checked my phone's search history just to be sure....</span><br />
<br style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;" />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;">------------------------------</span><wbr style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;"></wbr><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;">----</span><br />
<br style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;" />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;">Bill Clinton Dream</span><br />
<br style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;" />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;">This one is a bit more hazy, but the most vivid parts were these:</span><br />
<br style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;" />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;">A beautiful lady who was dressed like a secretary led me into a conference room. There were no people in it, but there were decorations of pyramids and Eyes of Osiris and lots and lots of Illuminati-symbols and ornate golden jewelry. I turned, and Bill Clinton was there. I then made the connection that the secretary woman was a Monica Lewinsky character, and I realized just how disgusting the whole conspiracy was. He was part of a powerful and malicious group that uses (abuses...) women and then puts the blame onto the women. All of the news stories demonized Lewinsky as a sort of Whore of Babylon character when really it is the power structure Bill Clinton represented, in that room full of ancient Egyptian Illuminati symbols (the freemasons are obsessed with ancient Egypt...).</span><br />
<br style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;" />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;">Then: a little boy who was a part of a sort of gang came up to me and stuck a knife deep into my side. I remember feeling no pain as he pulled it out, but putting my hand there and feeling so much wetness as blood poured out. I turned and saw my mom in a computer chair, and I instinctively wanted her to save me, like a child would, but I realized that she couldn't.</span>Kassandrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10374564708200913131noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5151331722158189693.post-74697553357442819582016-06-17T19:43:00.004-07:002019-12-16T19:46:29.217-08:00a light tucks under the shade by the window<br />
pretend you didn't see it all you want<br />
i felt a wisp of hair that wasn't mine just then<br />
did I imagine that sensation?<br />
<br />
you weren't around when the moon landed upon the earth<br />
where I dug and dug for the answers to your questions<br />
ever since you asked them, I've been naked<br />
opened up and swallowed whole by my creation<br />
<br />
everything was meant to be<br />
the way it has unfolded,<br />
but I can't help but question our Sovereignty<br />
you weren't meant to be here, and I'm alone<br />
<br />
I've never felt so Powerful.<br />
<br />
today the stars beckoned and I refused them<br />
the pull of darkness is stronger still<br />
the light has licked its lips at me<br />
and I do my best to ignore it<br />
<br />
rain never asked what we thought of its wetness<br />
so why pretend like we care?<br />
please tell me again<br />
what it is you remembered<br />
if you really dare<br />
<br />
see,<br />
the wholeness of We<br />
has opened itself<br />
up to me<br />
I cannot even cry<br />
<br />
you wandered through this wood forever<br />
to Catch a Butterfly<br />
<br />
Softly, slowly, gently now<br />
hear that whisper before it fades away<br />
then kiss yourself when you finally remember<br />
what it means to PrayKassandrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10374564708200913131noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5151331722158189693.post-56770462918927695112015-10-11T20:20:00.001-07:002019-12-16T19:46:36.469-08:00<div style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; -webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; background-color: white; border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; color: #444444; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', HelveticaNeue, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: inherit; line-height: 21px; margin-bottom: 15px; outline: none 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">
crying didn’t help me.<br />
it made your skin crawl and I,<br />
well, I do think you liked it.<br />
<br />
because you can’t cry. No,<br />
I know that<br />
your tears have waterlogged your weary head.</div>
<div style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; -webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; background-color: white; border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; color: #444444; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', HelveticaNeue, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: inherit; line-height: 21px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px; outline: none 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">
all that pressure sealed your<br />
pulsing eyelids<br />
and kept you silent,<br />
but thrust my legs (left-toe to right-heel)<br />
all the way out the front door.</div>
<div style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; -webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; background-color: white; border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; color: #444444; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', HelveticaNeue, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: inherit; line-height: 21px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px; outline: none 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">
I saw a<br />
hard, cold, little rabbit.<br />
I picked it up<br />
and laughed right at it.<br />
I even made myself sick<br />
when I decided<br />
what I was going to do then.</div>
<div style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; -webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; background-color: white; border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; color: #444444; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', HelveticaNeue, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: inherit; line-height: 21px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px; outline: none 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">
I picked up that ceramic piece<br />
of what she called <span style="border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; font-family: inherit; font-size: inherit; font-stretch: inherit; font-variant: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; outline: none 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><i>art.</i><br style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; -webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; box-sizing: border-box; outline: none 0px;" />i</span>t was fired in her summer camp kiln.<br />
it was fired in the <strike>infernal</strike> internal fires that she caged.</div>
<div style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; -webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; background-color: white; border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; color: #444444; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', HelveticaNeue, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: inherit; line-height: 21px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px; outline: none 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">
…I thought it would explode,<br />
that pink little rabbit.<br />
I thought her unhinged desire<br />
would burst<br />
into a fine display of<br />
passion-under-pressure<br />
erupting.</div>
<div style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; -webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; background-color: white; border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; color: #444444; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', HelveticaNeue, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: inherit; line-height: 21px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px; outline: none 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">
no, I project.<br />
<br />
I projected my<br />
foaming, fizzing,<br />
volcanic fear ready to burst into<br />
an ugly display of<br />
childish panic.</div>
<div style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; -webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; background-color: white; border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; color: #444444; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', HelveticaNeue, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: inherit; line-height: 21px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px; outline: none 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">
The ceramic piece of<br />
<i style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; -webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; font-family: inherit; font-size: inherit; font-stretch: inherit; font-variant: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; outline: none 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">art,</i></div>
<div style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; -webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; background-color: white; border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; color: #444444; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', HelveticaNeue, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: inherit; line-height: 21px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px; outline: none 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">
(that pastel bunny with the chip on its shoulder;<br />
a deep pit that we used as a cigarette holder),</div>
<div style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; -webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; background-color: white; border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; color: #444444; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', HelveticaNeue, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: inherit; line-height: 21px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px; outline: none 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">
her kiln-fired, summer camp, funny<br />
bunny<br />
was NOT<br />
the catharsis of my<br />
rage parade</div>
<div style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; -webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; background-color: white; border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; color: #444444; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', HelveticaNeue, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: inherit; line-height: 21px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px; outline: none 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">
It did not light up the streets<br />
when I heaved it<br />
with all of my <strike>internal</strike> infernal hate<br />
put behind it</div>
<div style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; -webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; background-color: white; border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; color: #444444; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', HelveticaNeue, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: inherit; line-height: 21px; margin-top: 15px; outline: none 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">
Instead,<br />
it crumbled into ten dusty pieces<br />
that I swept up<br />
all alone<br />
the next morning.</div>
Kassandrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10374564708200913131noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5151331722158189693.post-22658502985189575472015-01-15T06:17:00.001-08:002019-12-16T19:46:44.336-08:00The birds speak louder than your words<br />
and I can't even understand theirs.<br />
Funny thing, that is.<br />
A story about a monster will outlive anything<br />
you've ever had to say<br />
and it was written by a girl five years your junior.<br />
You were the monster all along(?)<br />
But she wasn't to know that, some two-hundred<br />
years ago,<br />
or so.<br />
I hear the birds louder than I hear your<br />
monstrous voice;<br />
you're so quiet in your terror.<br />
But perhaps it doesn't ring so loudly in my ears<br />
because it's dampened by the fast<br />
thud-thud, thud-thud of my heart.<br />
You animal, you seem so large!<br />
But the birds are larger, not when I hear them caw,<br />
but when they come together in a murder<br />
that screams, "We are here,<br />
and why are you down there,<br />
so alone?"Kassandrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10374564708200913131noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5151331722158189693.post-1658848401825381262015-01-14T18:54:00.000-08:002019-12-16T19:46:55.396-08:00I look at you and see beauty<br />
dontcha know.<br />
"Get the fuck away from me,<br />
with your negativity,"<br />
I used to think.<br />
Now all I want is to cling to you-<br />
-cling for my life, like<br />
you're saving me<br />
and didn't you?<br />
You saved me, I think<br />
I think that if I hadn't known you I'd be lost.<br />
You're not the stone,<br />
You're the apple tree,<br />
for me.Kassandrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10374564708200913131noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5151331722158189693.post-31139171870099955072015-01-06T07:55:00.001-08:002019-12-16T19:47:05.004-08:00My life is petty, and the people are scary.<br />
My arms got wet as I said,<br />
"No, it's okay, baby"<br />
the day after my mattress lost the shape of my body.<br />
<br />
The people are petty,<br />
and my life is scary<br />
but I blow smoke out my mouth<br />
in pretty shapes<br />
and feel comfy.<br />
<br />
You never knew that I knew,<br />
but I watched you two<br />
through the blacks of<br />
the backs of<br />
my eyelids<br />
I bundled up into a<br />
blanket cocoon<br />
just trying to keep my heart<br />
silent.<br />
<br />
You never knew what I knew.<br />
Not 'til I told you; then<br />
you just firmly denied it.Kassandrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10374564708200913131noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5151331722158189693.post-62801036481843630192014-09-03T09:05:00.005-07:002019-12-15T11:50:39.183-08:00Dream Sept 2 2014<br />
<br />
- the wooden house<br />
- puppies (they looked very human when they became adults)<br />
- broken pinky S: adair told me that she remembered a thread about how your pinky can't make an S like your pointer/middle/ring fingers because it's too short, and that in that thread i said i could still make mine into an S and everyone thought i was lying. Dave posted snapchats I'd sent him and I was shocked at how good i looked. i looked like the most ideal version of how I actually look(?) but then i saw a film of myself and my hair looked awful and my face was very wrinkly and it had to do with drinking and smoking, maybe<br />
- john goodman whose name was gary. i told him that he reminded me of my dad's friend gary west<br />
- my mom came to my job where i explained to her what we did and was embarrassed by her when she didnt understand.<br />
- the girl with the giant cube phone with holographs. i couldn't figure it out.<br />
- multiple people (including marcos) telling me the story about how __________ was originally supposed to be called __________ but something messed that up (in the style of typical fun history fact)<br />
- calling kerry about the check<br />
- Z with a girl named Elaine, I saw them all over each other while crossing a highway crosswalk. Talking to R about it and touching his bare chest. I was horrified until I realized R was Z now.<br />
- started watching Mulan on some device, but it became Real Life and my older brother needed to get across a northern asian (made-up) border to kill somebody(?) but couldn't because of his known political views. So I chopped my hair off and learned how to act like a boy so i could join the brigade across the border.<br />
<br />
<br />Kassandrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10374564708200913131noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5151331722158189693.post-61723268449231907452014-06-19T01:45:00.001-07:002019-12-16T19:47:27.315-08:00<span style="background-color: white; color: #444444; font-family: "helvetica neue" , "helveticaneue" , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19.600000381469727px;">To be wildly angry at that which terrifies you is the most vulnerable of things.</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #444444; font-family: "helvetica neue" , "helveticaneue" , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19.600000381469727px;">Powerless yet thrashing, you’ve never felt so empty.</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #444444; font-family: "helvetica neue" , "helveticaneue" , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19.600000381469727px;">Do you remember when you were a child, and you screamed and you screamed and you flailed on the ground, </span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #444444; font-family: "helvetica neue" , "helveticaneue" , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19.600000381469727px;">but they never felt sorry for you, </span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #444444; font-family: "helvetica neue" , "helveticaneue" , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19.600000381469727px;">and you dug your hole one hundred feet deeper with each desperate attempt to fight? </span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #444444; font-family: "helvetica neue" , "helveticaneue" , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19.600000381469727px;">Powerless. </span><br />
<br style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0); background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; color: #444444; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', HelveticaNeue, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19.600000381469727px; outline: none 0px;" />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #444444; font-family: "helvetica neue" , "helveticaneue" , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19.600000381469727px;">You did it again when you begged him to love you and that word slipped out and you didn’t mean to say that phrase and now he is so angry and you’re flailing on the ground again. </span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #444444; font-family: "helvetica neue" , "helveticaneue" , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19.600000381469727px;">Please, you beg. Why don’t you help me? </span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #444444; font-family: "helvetica neue" , "helveticaneue" , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19.600000381469727px;">All you want is for him to wrap his arms around you so tightly and squeeze until there is nothing more to the universe than his heavy weight protecting you from what this has been about from the day you came through that warm and safe tunnel </span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #444444; font-family: "helvetica neue" , "helveticaneue" , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19.600000381469727px;">right into the cold, white hands of a man who has lived two billion, two hundred seventy million, five hundred and ninety-two thousand times longer than you. </span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #444444; font-family: "helvetica neue" , "helveticaneue" , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19.600000381469727px;">If you could have looked into his eyes he would have desperately tried to warn you with them. </span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #444444; font-family: "helvetica neue" , "helveticaneue" , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19.600000381469727px;">His old eyes would have tried to show you the pain and the sadness and perhaps would have hoped to comfort you by letting you know we’re all the same. </span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #444444; font-family: "helvetica neue" , "helveticaneue" , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19.600000381469727px;">But that is only what he has been told by others who knew just as little as he and, likely, just as little as you. </span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #444444; font-family: "helvetica neue" , "helveticaneue" , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19.600000381469727px;">Your father will never tell you that he fantasized for years about murder because he was obsessed with the moment of death, </span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #444444; font-family: "helvetica neue" , "helveticaneue" , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19.600000381469727px;">and that his fantasies ended when he watched you exit your mother’s womb because that ambiguous moment of your birth was just the same.</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #444444; font-family: "helvetica neue" , "helveticaneue" , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19.600000381469727px;">He was not satiated. </span><br />
<br style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0); background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; color: #444444; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', HelveticaNeue, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19.600000381469727px; outline: none 0px;" />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #444444; font-family: "helvetica neue" , "helveticaneue" , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19.600000381469727px;">Nineteen years later, your lover will hold you in his arms </span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #444444; font-family: "helvetica neue" , "helveticaneue" , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19.600000381469727px;">at midnight once a month </span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #444444; font-family: "helvetica neue" , "helveticaneue" , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19.600000381469727px;">and listen to your sobs while you try to explain through gasps and gulps that you must be more scared than everyone else </span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #444444; font-family: "helvetica neue" , "helveticaneue" , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19.600000381469727px;">because no one else talks about it and you </span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #444444; font-family: "helvetica neue" , "helveticaneue" , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19.600000381469727px;">just can’t stop. </span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #444444; font-family: "helvetica neue" , "helveticaneue" , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19.600000381469727px;">He says that it’s not worth thinking about </span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #444444; font-family: "helvetica neue" , "helveticaneue" , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19.600000381469727px;">and you wail with your head thrown up to the ceiling and your sticky mouth wide open. </span><br />
<br style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0); background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; color: #444444; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', HelveticaNeue, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19.600000381469727px; outline: none 0px;" />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #444444; font-family: "helvetica neue" , "helveticaneue" , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19.600000381469727px;">Every book, every film, every story you have ever witnessed or been told leaves you with a feeling of dread. </span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #444444; font-family: "helvetica neue" , "helveticaneue" , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19.600000381469727px;">Your friends exit the theater unaffected and you look at them in disgust because how can they carry on? </span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #444444; font-family: "helvetica neue" , "helveticaneue" , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19.600000381469727px;">How can they continue as if life has not just ended before their very eyes and is ending all around us and there is NOTHING we can do about it? Aren’t you ANGRY?, </span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #444444; font-family: "helvetica neue" , "helveticaneue" , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19.600000381469727px;">you shout, </span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #444444; font-family: "helvetica neue" , "helveticaneue" , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19.600000381469727px;">and they shrug. </span><br />
<br style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0); background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; color: #444444; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', HelveticaNeue, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19.600000381469727px; outline: none 0px;" />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #444444; font-family: "helvetica neue" , "helveticaneue" , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19.600000381469727px;">When you dream that night it is of an atomic bomb with a timer, </span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #444444; font-family: "helvetica neue" , "helveticaneue" , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19.600000381469727px;">tick tick ticking, and you watch the seconds </span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #444444; font-family: "helvetica neue" , "helveticaneue" , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19.600000381469727px;">count down to your finality </span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #444444; font-family: "helvetica neue" , "helveticaneue" , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19.600000381469727px;">and you wince and you flinch and you bang your fists against the wood paneling above you </span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #444444; font-family: "helvetica neue" , "helveticaneue" , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19.600000381469727px;">because you are hiding under the house you grew up in, </span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #444444; font-family: "helvetica neue" , "helveticaneue" , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19.600000381469727px;">because you have to do whatever you can to protect yourself, </span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #444444; font-family: "helvetica neue" , "helveticaneue" , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19.600000381469727px;">because inevitability does not mean you give up</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #444444; font-family: "helvetica neue" , "helveticaneue" , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19.600000381469727px;">and it does not mean you can’t be pissed as hell about the fact that something less real than you can decide </span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #444444; font-family: "helvetica neue" , "helveticaneue" , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19.600000381469727px;">that you are no longer.</span>Kassandrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10374564708200913131noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5151331722158189693.post-32436128503352049622014-04-06T02:36:00.000-07:002019-12-16T19:47:38.395-08:00The kiss was forced out of me.<br />
<br />
<br />
We sat there in your ugly silver car, both silent, for moments. Then you locked your doors.<br />
Inside I was rolling my eyes, but instead I smiled sheepishly, because<br />
I knew that I was supposed to.<br />
<br />
I bit my lip and didn't say a word.<br />
In my head, I saw myself punching you in the face, unlocking the doors, running to my car, and driving off to never speak to you again.<br />
I didn't do that.<br />
<br />
You said, "Well," <br />
and I said it back. <br />
<br />
I knew what I was supposed to do. I knew that life would have to go on and that I would have to do this at some point, probably time and time again, and I wasn't going to be able to wait around forever. It would happen sooner or later, and probably while drunk. <br />
<br />
Had I forgotten that he came back to me just hours earlier? <br />
I must have. <br />
Or maybe I didn't believe him when he said that he wanted it again.<br />
Or maybe it was because he told me what he'd done and with whom and<br />
I felt like I had to add blame to myself.<br />
<br />
Whatever the reason was, it was there.<br />
So I did it.<br />
<br />
The kiss was forced out of me, yes.<br />
But I initiated it.<br />
<br />
I leaned over and thought that it would be innocent.<br />
It wasn't.<br />
<br />
Your body reacted as if you'd been resuscitated with a jolt of electricity; you grabbed me and touched me everywhere, frantically and awkwardly. Your nails dug into my ass. You rubbed your palms over my shorts and the zipper poked my skin. It hurt.<br />
<br />
I knew that it was supposed to feel good, but it didn't. It felt like nothing. Inside I was still rolling my eyes, the whole time; as you bit my lips and sucked on my tongue, all that I felt was embarrassment. Shame for picking such a bad kisser, even though we both know that I didn't pick you at all. <br />
<br />
I never liked you, but I thought that I was supposed to.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
I abruptly pulled away, fed up with my asexuality.<br />
<br />
I unlocked the doors, ran to my car, and drove off without a word.<br />
<br />
"Sorry for leaving like that. I just had to go."<br />
"That's okay. It made it so much hotter."<br />
<br />
More eye-rolling.<br />
<br />
Disgust.<br />
<br />
And that was it. <br />
<br />
That was the only other experience I've had.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
After that, would I want any others?Kassandrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10374564708200913131noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5151331722158189693.post-62659522433110371302014-04-06T02:32:00.000-07:002019-12-16T19:48:01.005-08:00My Story, ReallyMy first memory is masturbating under a baby sleeping bag at age 2 while Fly Away Home was watched by my parents.<br />
<div>
And then every day after that until I was 16. </div>
<div>
Then there's the road trip, the traveling RV, the bunnies running around and my parents' hippie friends.<br />
My parents were cool in that moment. That's the only time they were ever cool.<br />
There's the sweet and sour pork from Hong Kong and a Sailor Moon Blockbuster rental.<br />
My parents screamed in the background.<br />
This happened a lot.<br />
My dad would threaten to leave forever at least two times a week.<br />
I would run to the front door, lock it, spread my arms and legs out across it while begging him to stay.<br />
He'd push me out of the way and leave (but not forever).</div>
<div>
There's fooling around with my cousin when we were young enough for it to be acceptable but old enough to know it was dirty.<br />
The barbies and their dirty games. Mom found a note: "Times of sex: 1209238507960486468304962"<br />
Yeah.<br />
There was church. And church. And church. And church.<br />
DirtywrongbadnastySEXUALwhyamIsosexualGodpleaseforgiveme<br />
I was four.</div>
<div>
Vague memories of the backyard and the swingset and Surfin' USA and the dogs and Bob Dole and Bill Clinton and The Raven and being much wiser and more intelligent than I am now. <br />
Ages 4-7 are mostly full of memories of getting myself off to violent fantasies under a blanket in plain sight. <br />
I thought of Princess Jasmine being captured by the 40 thieves and they put her labia in a small toaster oven and I got off to it.<br />
My dad had to tell me to stop. I didn't want to look at him ever again after that.<br />
I did tap and ballet and jazz and gymnastics and took piano lessons and played soccer and basketball and tennis and softball. My parents wanted me to do <i>everything</i>. My dad lived vicariously through me.<br />
It was exhausting.<br />
My first day of school (8 years old) my mom took my dad's keys accidentally and my dad got a ride to work my uncle had to take me to school. My first day.<br />
There was Bradley and I liked him and he let me puff on his asthma inhaler and then he was murdered by his father along with his little sister and mother. I used to push the little girl on the tire swings.<br />
My mom and grandma told me and took me to McDonald's. I ate french fries.</div>
<div>
I read books and books and books. I read one book every day; never kids' books, those were BORING and I wanted to be big, I wanted to hurry up and get big and be a grownup.</div>
<div>
Character Day. I went in an Uncle Sam costume and a girl asked if I had a pillow in it to make my stomach big.<br />
"No...that's just my stomach."<br />
Fat.<br />
Dirty.<br />
Slut (eight. years. old). </div>
<div>
I had friends I don't remember and don't particularly care about.<br />
<br /></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
Kassandrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10374564708200913131noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5151331722158189693.post-19749223092016503102014-01-04T11:46:00.001-08:002019-12-16T19:48:19.602-08:00<div dir="ltr" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0); background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; color: #444444; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', HelveticaNeue, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px; margin-bottom: 10px; outline: none 0px;">
Hate might fill you up,<br />
but that fire in your eyes<br />
makes you look foolish, boy</div>
<div dir="ltr" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0); background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; color: #444444; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', HelveticaNeue, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px; margin-bottom: 10px; outline: none 0px;">
I’ve got clouds above my head<br />
that want to rain on your<br />
sad, silly eyelids</div>
<div dir="ltr" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0); background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; color: #444444; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', HelveticaNeue, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px; margin-bottom: 10px; outline: none 0px;">
You try and you try and you try<br />
and the world maybe buys it,<br />
<span style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px;">but i hear those thoughts</span><span style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px;"> </span><span style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px;">you dare not speak</span><br />
<span style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px;">and i cry about it.</span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0); background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; color: #444444; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', HelveticaNeue, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px; margin-bottom: 10px; outline: none 0px;">
<br />
(The fact that homicidal fantasies turn you on<br />
means you've got<i> shit</i> to work through,<br />
but I think having me around for all that blood-flow<br />
makes that realization hard for you)</div>
<div dir="ltr" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0); background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; color: #444444; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', HelveticaNeue, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px; margin-bottom: 10px; outline: none 0px;">
<span style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px;">Don’t you know that I understand </span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0); background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; color: #444444; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', HelveticaNeue, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px; margin-bottom: 10px; outline: none 0px;">
just how much you want to feel free?<br />
<span style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px;">I’m not trying to stifle you,</span><br />
<span style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px;">but you won’t let me leave.</span></div>
Kassandrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10374564708200913131noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5151331722158189693.post-41242180287607788052013-12-30T20:56:00.001-08:002019-12-16T20:27:03.882-08:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVRHV4E9kVZCn_uxFe6L-oJBHgfD-_Ybd1xvNSqLVuMaxM4WNVn5lt9z_4u2UjGJ7Ijt8VmhBF-WyGw7I496-Ar6FB_RDujSXDJajz_mjtdzaEDnElZK7V7mDrN3uo2oWOR2qa9rWrMM4/s1600/fuck+him.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVRHV4E9kVZCn_uxFe6L-oJBHgfD-_Ybd1xvNSqLVuMaxM4WNVn5lt9z_4u2UjGJ7Ijt8VmhBF-WyGw7I496-Ar6FB_RDujSXDJajz_mjtdzaEDnElZK7V7mDrN3uo2oWOR2qa9rWrMM4/s320/fuck+him.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />Kassandrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10374564708200913131noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5151331722158189693.post-59441395254287597672013-10-04T22:12:00.000-07:002019-12-16T19:48:29.907-08:00IDSorry, but I just don't buy that happiness<br />
is something you feel, that it's real<br />
if I'd only give up the <i>one thing </i>i could<br />
tell you about me (I mean truthfully:<br />
<br />
what is identity? you think I was faking<br />
when I furrowed my brow<br />
as if asking, "but how?" when you<br />
told me to 'be myself.'<br />
Do you know what my favourite song is?<br />
Well, neither do I).<br />
<br />
But I <b>do</b> know how to <i>measure</i> myself,<br />
and that I don't measure up<br />
because I ate a whole cup--not a fourth--<br />
and I'm too large by three,<br />
see,<br />
I'm obsessed with A's<br />
<br />
...you know what I mean.<br />
<br />
When he asked me if I was an actress<br />
and I said, "Yes" with a smile<br />
I was answering an identical question<br />
<br />
but not the one he was really asking.<br />
<br />Kassandrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10374564708200913131noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5151331722158189693.post-78140486225353131312013-09-24T23:57:00.002-07:002019-12-16T19:48:36.107-08:00<br />
<div style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; color: #969696; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 18px; margin-bottom: 10px;">
Take my hand,<br />
baby, please<br />
I just want to touch you</div>
<div style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; color: #969696; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 18px; margin-bottom: 10px;">
Why do you flinch,<br />
baby, why<br />
do you look so afraid?</div>
<div style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; color: #969696; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 18px; margin-bottom: 10px;">
As if my skin left all those black scars<br />
I can see on your shoulders<br />
As if the tips of my fingers burn right through your flesh with my sins<br />
As if I’ve drowned you in waters<br />
to laugh at the way that you sputter<br />
As if it’s possible you haven’t wanted me<br />
for quite some time now</div>
<div style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; color: #969696; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 18px; margin-bottom: 10px;">
Sometimes the voice of my childhood<br />
tells me I’ve hurt you<br />
And sometimes the sound of my shame<br />
makes me sob when you’re near</div>
<div style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; color: #969696; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 18px;">
I’m not the angel that you once<br />
imagined would save you<br />
You’re starting to sense that you<br />
ran out of dusk into darkness.</div>
Kassandrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10374564708200913131noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5151331722158189693.post-41651640591764932072013-08-05T22:09:00.002-07:002019-12-16T19:48:44.811-08:00I am not real<br />
<br />
but<br />
<br />
boy, did I convince each and every one of you<br />
that I'm the realest there ever was.Kassandrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10374564708200913131noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5151331722158189693.post-42867292419074404082013-08-04T22:13:00.001-07:002019-12-16T19:48:53.180-08:00i know your tricks<br />
i know your lies<br />
i'm trapped i'm trapped i'm trappedKassandrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10374564708200913131noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5151331722158189693.post-82043837255391324742013-07-10T15:28:00.002-07:002019-12-16T19:49:04.908-08:00You know I don't see you the way you see yourself?<br />
<br />
You know I see something beautiful?Kassandrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10374564708200913131noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5151331722158189693.post-24895467343608453132013-06-16T22:45:00.001-07:002019-12-16T18:55:03.158-08:00I'm pretty fucking suicidalKassandrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10374564708200913131noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5151331722158189693.post-7447787355636061542013-04-14T20:58:00.001-07:002019-12-16T18:55:09.763-08:00So unhappy. So, so fucking unhappy.Kassandrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10374564708200913131noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5151331722158189693.post-39852000847145458142013-04-06T00:09:00.001-07:002019-12-16T19:49:19.160-08:00the way you found me last night<br />
<br />
on the floor<br />
<br />
with my face on the ground and my hair wild<br />
<br />
sobbing, writhing madly<br />
<br />
screaming for you,<br />
<br />
"Gaaaaaaaaaabe"<br />
<br />
in between sobs<br />
<br />
"Gaaaaaaaaaabe"<br />
<br />
repeating over and over in my head<br />
<br />
"you were supposed to save me"<br />
("you were supposed to save me")<br />
("you were supposed to save me supposedtosavemesupposedtosaveme")<br />
<br />
it should have made you sick;<br />
<br />
i <i>imagined</i> how sick it would make you<br />
<br />
how you would scoff and return downstairs to laugh at some cartoon<br />
<br />
but instead you did the thing I never could have fathomed<br />
<br />
you picked (pulled) me up off the ground<br />
<br />
held me in your arms<br />
<br />
held me so tightly and so<br />
<br />
warmly, and<br />
<br />
you <i>did</i> save me.<br />
<br />
you did.Kassandrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10374564708200913131noreply@blogger.com0