andy_noir

Just in time for the end of the world, this supposed Archive finally gets organized!

To read any of my:
 

Short Stories go here.

Reviews go here.

 

And in case anyone is really masochistic, my poetry:

Belief

Microcuentos

true love

Not Enough

One Word Poem

Unrequited Love

When I was thirteen and I thought my mother was dying, she had Leukemia, I gave atheism a try. God, seemed to me, if his existence were true, to be an ass. It seemed unfair that after all of the pain that we’d been through the last ten years (longer for my mother) that this happened to us now that things were finally getting good.

 

It didn’t stick.

 

I believed too strongly, but it seems the doubt planted so long ago, has finally taken root.

 

Last year and every year before at this time, I would have been vibrating, trembling with what I would call magic, full of life, full of belief that the Earth spun thanks to invisible powers, as of yet undetectable by science but there. I knew it and I felt it in every bone, every sinew, every synapse in my body, not a cell doubted that there was more.

 

This year I step outside and look up at the clouds, formerly full of the electricity of life and they are wisps of air floating above marring the clear sky. Their shifting seems random. I feel silly with every mention of God. I get defensive at the very mention of religious skepticism; I don’t trust myself any longer.

 

At thirteen I thought that atheism was a decision you made logically, now I’m terrified that it is something that wears you down like rivers carving out a canyon.

 

This new disbelief scares me.

 

It’s always been such a large part of me, belief.

 

I believed in everything once, and I wonder when it happened, how long I’ve been going through the motions, how long it’s all been empty words.

 

And what am I going to do with all those witchy books?

My most common symptom when depressed is an obsessive hermitism, which includes the internet, which is why I seem to disappear from the face of the Earth for such long periods.  Except that this time, unlike so many others, when all I had to report was "I've been sleeping", I've got real news to share.

Perhaps, this will even be the only post of mine with any real depth, because I feel like for the first time I've moved forward.

I bought a car.  This is something I've been struggling with since I was fifteen, and on the "eve" of my twenty-fifth birthday it feels right that I buy it.  I've taken what the psychic told me all those months ago seriously, "Let go of all the extra, let got of the fear"  and I just went for it.  It might have brought me a few new problems, as well as adding to my rather tight budget a new bill, but I feel that it has also opened up more possibilities.

Although I'm finding that things I used to scoff at, like gas prices are suddenly very important to me, there is a sort of relief in knowing that I can go to the store for food and not worry about how many bags I can carry, or I can pop over to the library without sacrificing an hour of my life to waiting for the bus (just fifteen minutes to find parking.)

I'm taking kickboxing, yeah!  Learning to kick butt...

                                                                   ...watch out you, you know who!

The other news is that I've sought therapy and even though I am not yet actually seeing anyone, (I've had an "intake" appointment and have to wait three weeks for a psych. eval.!) it feels great to know that I'm doing something about this problem, like there is a light at the end of the tunnel, like one of these days I 'm going to wake up and realize that it's been a year since I last languished in my room in pain.

It feels good to be moving forward in these small ways after having felt for so many years that I'm stuck in a rut.

I will be turning twenty-five in a few months and I can't believe that I live such an empty life.  There really is nothing to it but a giant PAUSE, every time I feel I'm moving forward I am once again forced to become a hermit and then whatever small momentum and ground I've won is lost.

I'm going to whine a bit now, because I'm tired of people asking me, "how does it feel when you're depressed?"

It feels like crap, how do you think it feels?  If I could not get depressed, I wouldn't.  That's actually why I'm finally getting "help" now, because I've been trying to not be depressed for four or five years now and it ain't been working.

Either way, I've been feeling these past few weeks a new me being born, a me which doesn't really fit into my current home, sandwiched between my grandfather and my sister and her boyfriend and that in itself adds a whole new dimension of things to worry about, such as were and how much?

Well, I've got to go...have fun, read some books, have a blast!
 

I just wrote a bunch and because of my luck it all got erased, now I'm going to go cry...later I might try to write it up again...

Since Little Red Riding Hood was only ten and much too young to walk anywhere alone, her mother packed up the wagon and hitched the horses, even though she had absolutely no time.  The whole family rode over to Grandma's house, taking the main road, no wolves were sighted, no flowers picked.  There Grandma got packed up on the wagon and moved to Little Red Riding Hood's house because she was too old to take care of her self. 


The End.

I think it's amazing how time seems to slow down when you are somewhere unfamiliar.  I almost feel I've spent a lifetime here in Shamokin.

If you're thinking of buying a house, this is the place to do it, they're like half the price of houses in New Jersey!

Have fun all!

I believe in the stars.  I believe they have the power to show us the future. 

Now, I like science, a lot.  If a scientists tells me that stars are just big balls of gas, I believe them.

But I don't stop believing in the power of astrology, no matter what, because while they say that it's all just a coincidence, some of these coincidences are just too uncanny.

On monday I talked about The Case Against Adolescence and that was the beginning of my not wanting to think or read anything serious or intellectual for a long time.  Now, thanks to the power of astrology I know this period will end in October.

Here is my horoscope according Astrodienst:

Intellectual withdrawal
Valid during several months: This is a time of intellectual withdrawal, but not in a negative way. You aren't withdrawing to avoid a confrontation with reality but to reflect and think about all the ideas you have encountered recently. It is a good time to examine your personal and domestic life and to make plans or evaluate whether it is meeting your needs. This is an excellent time for discussions with your immediate family about matters that are important to all of you. Your thoughts may drift continually back to events that occurred in the past, and you may wonder why you cannot focus on the concerns of the present. You are able to voice your innermost thoughts at this time, and you should if you feel that something must be said. Do not allow pressures to build up within you that you do not express toward the people around you.
The interpretation above is for your transit selected for today: Mercury in the 4th House,  4, activity period from 10 August 2009 until middle of October 2009

There is no scientist on this Earth that can convince me that there is no way that Astrology works.

NEW MUSINGS!!:  Episode 3*

In which I get upset over The Case Against Adolescence and kind of recommend Aliens in the Attic.

The Case Against Adolescence, Rediscovering the Adult in ever Teen by Robert Epstein, Ph.D.
Rating: 5/5
Genre: Psychology, Non-Fiction

The Case Against Adolescence takes a look at Adolescence in America and around the world as well as into the past and concludes that Adolescence is a culture-created phenomenon.

Dr. Epstein looks at scientific research, anthropology and history to support his theory that adolescence isn't a real stage of life.  He says that this dangerous period of life has been fabricated by our society and gives a prescription in order to end the problems which it has caused.

I really liked the book, to be honest because he confirmed what has been my suspicion all along, while his theories are contested by several scientists and everyone I know, I highly recommend this book.


---
*bonus feature at end...

I'm currently reading The Case Against Adolescence, Rediscovering the Adult in Every Teen, by Robert Epstein, Ph.D.

It is very interesting and I have lots to say, but I have to say only one thing, that if we're going to attempt to convince society at large that Teens need more rights and freedoms it's going to be tough.

I just had a conversation with my Aunt in which I tried to tell her about the book and at the end of the thirty minute conversation, we reached a point where she said that all people need more rules and laws.  Pretty much, according to her, no one can be trusted to make decisions without the government.  SCARY!!!

Also, she thinks freedom is an illusion, have to say fighting that point was hard, specially since I feel incarcerated in my life.  Hopefully, soon I'll be able to free myself from the black iron prison...hopefully.

It has increased it because now I can give the impression that I'm around without ever being in the same room.

Discovered Rhyming Dictionaries!  Stay tuned for crappy rhymes.

Card No.: 742-066358-072

pillow, power, wonderful, linoleum, relief, lamb

aura, frequent, aft, even, agony, jaguar

fog, feed, axis, shudder, acute, tug, get
 

The door opened. There was no one on the other side. There was a long corridor before them lit only by the light coming through a doorway at the end. Jafai walked towards it without hesitation and led them to a large courtyard. It was overgrown with weeds and trees grew wild, blocking most of the light given by the sun.

Jafai seemed neither surprised nor perturbed by the utter disaster that lay around them. Sally walked towards a peculiar square bush and pulled away some vines to reveal a marble bench. John now looked at the courtyard with new eyes. The garden in the center became a pool, and the bushes that lined it became benches. What he had believed to be topiary were now plainly shown to be statues covered in the vicious vines that had taken over all of the courtyard.

Jafai led them to a doorway to the left of their entrance a brilliant light shined out of the room, almost blinding John after the gloominess of the rest of the house.

Inside was a workshop that reminded John of Jafai’s suitcase writ large. In the center table a large man, his graying hair and hulking shoulders his only visible features, hunched over a small electronic board made up of what appeared to be ceramic and copper. Without looking up the man barked out, “What do you want old man?”

“I need your help.” Jafai said hesitantly.

The giant looked up in surprise, eyes wide. He was soon distracted by the sight of Sally and John standing behind the frail looking man.

Sally let out a nervous giggle. John could see that he was close to sixty and exceedingly handsome.

Ignoring Jafai, the bear of a man walked right up to Sally and grabbed her right hand, “Alexander Efieh at your service.” He pulled her into his strong arms and kissed her deeply. John pushed down the need to drag her away. When the man finally let go Sally just giggled and said, “I’m Sally.”

“Efieh" Are you two related?” John asked hoping to draw the man’s attention away from Sally.

At this mention of the old man Alexander turned to see Jafai looking closely at a gadget across the room and ran over exclaiming, “Father! You are going to break that!”

“I guess that answers your question,” Sally muttered.

“I will do no such thing, I taught you everything you know!” The old man yelled lifting the gadget from the table and closer to his face.

“Yes, but I taught myself more things.” Alexander reached the old man, and had no sooner tried to tug it out of his father’s hands when it let out a small explosion and fell apart raining gears and small springs on the pair.

“Now, look what you’ve done!”

"It was perfectly fine until you tried to pry it out of my hands!"

John and Sally looked at each other; John whispered, "let's run."

Sally shook her head and moved deeper into the room. John followed looking over his shoulder at the arguing men – now hovering over a different gizmo.

Although the argument was presumably about the object that lay between them John knew that it probably encapsulated a lifetime of arguments.

He turned back to Sally who continued her self-guided tour of Alexander’s workshop. She reached out a hand towards a large box with what appeared to be a mirror inside. John snatched her hand back.

“Don’t touch anything.” He hissed, turning in relief to see that Alexander hadn’t noticed.

He heard a click and saw that Sally had reached out her other hand to turn the lever on the machine.

“Sally!”

“I’m ambidextrous.”

The mirror flickered and slowly an image began to appear. It was Alex waving at the camera.

“It’s a TV” Sally said as the image faded.

“That’s impossible!”

“This whole city is impossible.” She wandered away pulling John after her through their still attached hands. At the back, a desk sat, scrolls and pieces of parchment littered liberally over it, a pillow also lay at one corner of it. It too was covered in notes.

A leather scroll sat atop this chaotic ocean of paper. A frayed leather strip held it closed in a loose knot. With frequent looks to the fight behind them Sally and John opened the knot and unrolled the mat. It contained a variety of parchments, some with lists, some maps, others unintelligible. Sally picked up an especially fascinating parchment; it sketched out the parts of a device, although it seemed unfinished. The parts were labeled in Greek and it was surrounded by descriptions, this was not the literary Greek she had learned to read in school. She did pick out the words chronos and aura.

“What does it say"” John asked staring in puzzlement, “it’s all Greek to me.”

Sally looked back to make sure that he saw her roll her eyes, when instead she saw a very angry Alexander bear down on them. She wanted to stuff the piece of parchment into the leather mat and pretend to never have seen it, but it was too late. She straightened up, leaning slightly into John and looked right into his eyes as he reached over and snatched her out of her hands.

“What’s that about"” She asked.

“It is none of your business.”

“I think it is, it’s about the time machine your father invented,” Sally said pulling out the cube safely wrapped inside a handkerchief, “and it has a lot to do with us.”

Alexander seemed to look at them a little closer, studying them from top to bottom, “you are from the future.”

John was not prepared for that statement and stuttered out a “yes.”

“My father can’t send you back and neither can I,” he walked around the desk and began to reorganize the papers inside the leather mat.

“Why not"” John demanded; he felt Sally’s hand on his arm.

“It is beyond my power,” then he sunk into the chair and look up at them, the dark rings in his eyes now visible without the large smile he’d worn even during his arguments with his father.

Jafai stood beside them now, his wrinkled brow imploring his son for an explanation.

“You were at the temple"” He asked pulling at the leather strip he had just tied. The three visitors nodded. “do you really believe the gods exist or that they allowed one of their temples to be burnt to the ground"”

“Don’t start with your blasphemy again!”

Sally and John jumped at the venom in Jafai’s voice.

Alexander only shrugged and continued, “How many sacrifices have been performed in the last ten months"”

The tension in Jafai’s shoulders seemed to disappear and he seemed suddenly a frail old man, older than any John had ever seen, even with the advanced medicines of the future.

“Too many.”

“There’s an organization. I don’t know their goals, but I can see their hands in all this.” He waved his hand over the unfurling mat.

John thought he was being unnecessarily dramatic, but Sally spoke up, “you think they have time travel technology"”

“I am positive. They also have a device, I saw it once. I’ve been trying to duplicate it,” he lifted the diagram Sally had been looking at earlier, “I think it’s stopping Father’s time machine from going forward.”

“They must be the men that were trying to hurt you!” Sally exclaimed looking at John.

“I thought you said you made that up to get me to meet you"”

“Well, yes and no. They obviously had some nefarious purpose.”

“But why"” Jafai now spoke, sitting down on a nearby footstool, sending scrolls and rivets flying. “Why would they hurt them all, why"”

Once again, John was struck by the pain in the old man’s face. Even though Sally had explained to him about books having souls, John couldn’t understand the man. He’d always seen books as disposable, and here this man was in agony over their destruction.

Alexander spoke now, softly, “they’re fighting a war against us and they’re taking out the most vulnerable of us.” Alexander pulled out one of the lists from the pile of parchment, “they’re winning.” He passed the list to his father who took it with shaking hands.

Tears fell now from the old man’s eyes as it scanned the long list, “I didn’t realize it was so many.”

Sally took the list and scanned it, “I’ve never heard of half of these and the half I’ve hear of I didn’t know had libraries!”

“Our brother scientists are in hiding,” Alexander said seizing the paper from Sally and rolling the mat again.

“Strabo has arrived with news.” Alexander pulled a cabinet forward and stuck the leather roll in a small hole behind, he slid a tile that had been sitting on the cabinet over the hole completing a mural of frolicking muses and placed the cabinet in front of it again. “We’ll go ask what he’s discovered.”

Strabo, Sally mouthed to John behind Alexander’s back a wide grin on her face.

They all left the house and John looked back at the sewer tunnel and grinned. They walked in silence among the labyrinthine streets of the city, John lost in a fog of thought until he realized he could no longer hear the excitable discussion between Jafai, Alexander and Sally.

He stopped walking and looked around the street.

“What a wonderful turn of events.” He muttered to himself.

Tall houses, lined the narrow road, faces blank. A few were painted in bright colors, but most just wore the plain grey of mortar. There were no intersections and so he ran quickly down the street and around the bed, until he found himself at a busy intersection. The strange steam cars that seemed to be common here rocked past him, back and forth. Representatives of every part of the world walked up and down the road, paying him no mind.

He knew he was lost and he had no way of finding Sally, on her way to some secret house, for all he knew hidden behind a hologram like Alexander’s house.

He ran back, full of inspiration and hope, he ran back and forth across the street touching first the front of one home and then the other, across both sides of the street until a group of men stepped out of one of the houses. They were light skinned and blond, wearing tunics and baggy pants, he went towards them to ask for help. They were speaking in a strange language that the helmet didn’t translate, it sounded like German to him, and he spoke up, “Can you guys help me"”

The men looked at him for a second before they burst out in laughter and swaggering they patted him on his back as they walked up the street and disappeared around the bend. He sighed, “I guess the helmet only translates Greek,” he said to no one and walked down the street.

He came to another, smaller intersection and stood wondering which way to turn when a man wearing a jaguar print, sleeveless tunic, walked up to him. He noticed the thickness and realized that it was real fur, “but jaguars only live in the Americas…” he said to himself.

“I knew I was forgetting something.” The man said, with a British accent.

John only had a second to realize the man spoke in English before feeling an acute pain on the back of his head.

 

THE FIRST THING JOHN NOTICED WAS PAIN. It rolled through him, an unbeatable chill that caused him to shudder; the movement brought with it a bonus: now his insides hurt too. His hands were tied behind his back and his eyes were covered by a bandage. He had obviously been tossed somewhere hard with very little care. The sacrificed lamb had been treated better than this.

He listened carefully, but could hear nothing but the beating of his own heart pounding. He tried to sit up and hit his shoulder on the wall beside him. He got the feeling that he was in a large room, but when tried to move he felt fenced in from all areas. Finally even though his legs ached at the very thought of supporting his weight he shifted his legs underneath him and leaning against the wall behind him he pushed himself up it, until the wall began to move and he fell to the ground hitting his axis on the way down.

On the ground, he wondered vaguely where he’d gleaned this piece of information and knew that regardless of where he’s learned it he would have a hell of a bruise on his axis, the second vertebra of his neck.

Unwilling to give up his bid for freedom, he turned around and leaned his forehead against the moving “wall.” Slowly and deliberately he rubbed it across the wall, realizing that it was made of wood, a crate. He reached one corner and scraped his cheek against it until the cloth tied around his head was ripped off. He saw that he was inside an enclosure created with four large crates filled with what appeared to be cattle feed. The ceiling was indeed far away and hinted at a much larger space that he could currently see, the floor a dark colored linoleum, made him think of home. Not any home he’d ever lived in, but of the time he’d grown up in. He neared the gap he’s created during his attempt to stand and pressed his eye against it. Half hidden by other crates and bags he could see the aft of a helicopter. Joy rose in his chest as he realized this must mean he was in the future, or the present. Of course, did this mean that Sally was still stuck in the past?

 

To be continued...

 

I know! I want the story to end too! I swear, I've discovered that I'm best able to write in between of doing something completely mind-numbing, mostly this means at work (I'm a secretary) unfortunately, it's hard to do this when there's lots of people around.

So I was at Facebook and saw a quiz, “How White Are You?-Stuff White People Like” and was immediately troubled. I am Puerto Rican, I was born and live in Newark, NJ and if I took that test I would probably score high. Why? Because I like “white” things and I got anxiety when I saw the quiz, because I've learned to be ashamed of my love of Rock and Sci-Fi and comics.

 

Illogical? Yes.

 

But it’s the kind of thing I’ve dealt with my whole life and I know that other minorities have also dealt with it. As a child I was ridiculed for my love of books because I was “trying to be white.” Loving books being such an intrinsic part of me, I was troubled, am troubled by the idea that being intelligent means you aren't proud of your heritage. But beyond this is the idea that all individuals of any “racial” group must act the same way. It's even worse when the group itself is the one reinforcing this idea. I am extremely stubborn and so I refused to give up my loves, instead I hid them and tried to fit in I failed miserably.

 

As a young Hispanic woman I've faced my share of prejudice (ageism, sexism, adultism as well as racism) the moments that

hurt the most were:

 

 

A middle aged mother clutches her eight year old’s hand as she walks into an expensive retail children’s store where I am folding t-shirts, “Can you help me?” She enunciates loudly.

“Why, of course, madam,” I want to scream, but enjoy the shock in her face, I enunciate loudly, “what do you need?”

***

An older white woman’s surprise when she discovers that I am Hispanic and from Newark, “but you speak so well.”

***

A tall, blonde, blue-eyed co-worker wants to nickname me Coqui, my blood turns to ice, I grind out a “No. Absolutely Not.” It takes me two weeks to understand my reaction.

***

Talking about crime, they lower their voices when I enter the room, they don’t want to offend me. But why should them, I’m not related to any criminals and I certainly don’t associate with them.

I want to say something snarky, something that will make them think twice, but I don’t. I keep quiet, I know the value of silence, I know the dignity, of keeping calm, and tall and stoic, they can’t fit me into their stereotypes.

***

While discussing the recently proposed Health Care bill a co-worker said, “if you’re an American and you aren’t from a certain country you don’t get any help [from Welfare, Medicaid, etc.]” along with the context that preceded and the anti-immigrant sentiment that came before I was prompted to ask, “Are you saying that you’ve been discriminated against by the American Government for bring a White American?”

My co-worker got real quiet.

They approached me and tried to convince me that I too was an American and privy to the same discrimination.

***

Old white people, I can’t help but get nervous around them, on my best behavior because I know that they will judge all brown people on my behavior, specially me, who am so generically ethnic, that I am often confused for all sorts of different races, I feel all non-whites are judged by my behavior, must always be witty, smart, polite, well-dressed, the antithesis of who I truly am.

 

I wrote these down a month ago after a moment of stiff politeness to these well-meaning slights.

 

But in the end, none of these situations has hurt me as much as being scared to be myself around blacks and Puerto Ricans for fear of being accused of betraying my heritage in some way.

 

While I enter every situation without expecting to be prejudiced against, I’m ashamed to admit that on more than one occasion I’ve found myself tempted to deny my white friends. I love you guys, I have never denied you, but the thought has been there, I am Puerto Rican and proud of it.

 

I like salsa and talking in Spanish and eating platanos and pastels and yuca and lying in hammocks (it’s a Taino invention). But I also like Indie music and books and Star Trek and mayonnaise and I don’t want to think that every time I do one of these things in public someone is going to tell me that I’m not a “real” Puerto Rican.

 

I think that this facet of an already complicated topic should also be considered.

 

A co-worker mentioned that he believed there were several of these for different “races” and I say I disapprove of them all!

 

Now, I’m going to go take that quiz and I don’t care how high that percent is!

 

My Facebook, I'm 100% White apparently, I really didn't think it would be that high.

 

Wow, I don't even know how long it's been, but here is the next episode!

Episode 2




Edit, July 22, 2009: I'm kinda dumm, here are the links I promised:

AstroClick Portrait
Short Report - Personal Portrait

I walked in full of belief,
you fed me some cheese.
Oh, how can I live
now that i can't
think of the future
except as a scam!

Yes, after a relatively dry spell of CMN literature, here is a free (crappy) poem for your enjoyment.

And here, due to popular demand is the story of my "psychic" reading in Philadelphia.

I believe I got my reading at:

Miller Mary

(215) 922-8890‎

In the spirit of full disclosure the person who did my reading was not the owner of the establishment, but her younger employee.

The young woman looked familiar to me, but I didn't immediately place her, but by the time the reading ended I was convinced that she was the young girl that Diana and I met at St. Anthony's festival a few months ago.

I chose the General Life Tarot Reading.

I have listed my magical biography in other posts, but I will repeat it here.

When I was eleven my mother had Leukemia and thus my very strong Christian Faith was thrown for a loop thanks to that ever present question:  Why would God let this happen to a good person?

I tried to become an atheist, it was impossible, my belief in the existence of the non-material was too strong.  So, I turned to other religions, looking for a theistic explanation.  I was in seventh grade and met a girl who had an interest in Witchcraft and so I looked into it.  So, in 1997 I began to dabble in Tarot. 

I never became adept at it, and never stuck with it for more than a few months at a time, but I know the basics.

Thus when the girl, whom I will call Cassandra, since I do not know her name, brought out the Tarot cards, the first thing I noticed was that there weren't all that many of them.  I shrugged, I figured she was only using the Major Arcana, people do this.

She asked me to make two wishes as I shuffled the cards, I asked her if I should do so with a preferred hand.  She said it didn't matter.  Indeed it didn't as she didn't ask me to cut the deck, although that may have been because there weren't enough cards to cut.

She began to lay out the cards, in a vague cross pattern, I noticed there was a mix of cards from the Major and Minor Arcanas.  She gave me a few vague pronouncements on my family (whoever's sick will get better) one that made me laugh (inside) was "there's someone your're not close to."  Everyone. "you will become closer to that person."  Yes, very enlightning.

Then she says, "you are going through a dark period in your life."  I thought, I look and am pretty cheerful today so she can't be reading that from my clothes.  I nodded.  In retrospect, happy people don't need psychic readings.

Then she said, "this was not god's plan for you."  my hope was lifted, I thought, maybe she really is psychic...
Then she ruined it.
She said, "someone did this to you, someone has interfered."

I asked her to clarify and indeed she was trying to convince me that someoen had put a spell on me, she took me for a sceptic when I showed my disbelief in that statement and old me she could find the person for me, for a fee of course.
Only for the materials.  $45 for 9 candles.

I left at that point, I pity the person that believes that, I had just walked out of an occult shop where I bought 4 candles for about $3 and that's including tax.

She then told me not to tell anyone of my reading or my wishes wouldn't come true.  Censorship.  Ha.  Guess I won't ever be successful then...oops!

I only wished I had asked her what color the candles were?  Or why she hadn't used a proper deck of tarot?  Or what on Earth was her layout called?

Why did her "someone's interfering" line turn me off, because I'm a psychic, an inept one, neither precise nor in control of what I see, but I know damm well that the only person keeping me from the path set out for me, is me.

Either way only good came of this excursion as it began a renewed interest in the Tarot for me.

...And as an added bonus, here's what I did last night!

Through Curious Expeditions I discovered The Observatory Room and found out that they would be hosting a lecture, Layered Orders: Crowley's Thoth Deck and the Tarot(a personal narrative by Jesse Bransford), sponsored by Phantasmophile.  I decided to go.

I had an excellent time.  Everyone was wonderfully kind and I was able to meet a few people, I wish I could have overcome my self-sabotaging fears, but on the positive side, I went.

The lecture itself was very good.  Jesse Bransford was amusing, straighforward and honest.  While he didn't do an in-depth analysis, he did cover all the major areas of tarot symbology and a good outline of Aleister Crowley and his development of the Thoth Deck.  It gave me a few good places to begin my own research and  I feel blessed that I was able to attend the lecture.

Jesse Bransford is an artist and I believe a good one, check out his blog here.

In Philadelphia!

Was depressed, needed a vacation, so I took one, from the world.  I literally did nothing for two days (July 8th and 9th) except read fanfiction (because it's easy access to fluff, and such fulfilling, soul patching fluff it is...)

I went out and dropped lots of money on getting my hair done, (something I haven't done since prom, in 2002, yeah...):

 
I got my bags packed with the essentials, Kindle, umbrella, lip balm, wallet (and sweater, only for trains and buses) : and off I went to Philadelphia.

I had only my intelligence, my bag and a vague idea that I should take the Septa at Trenton to aid me in my journey.  Thus the following conversation took place:
The lady at the NJ Transit ticket counter in Trenton: How can I help you?
Me: You sell tickets for the Septa?
Ticketer: Yes.
Me: Can I have round trip tickets to Philadelphia?
Ticketer: Where?
Me: Philadelphia.
Ticketer: (kindly) where in Philadelphia?
Me: The first stop?
Ticketer: (Bemused) How many?
Me: One, round trip. (Followed by babble asking forgiveness for being an idiot and a burden.)
Ticketer: (Big smile now that she understands that I'm mentally challenged) That will be $16.

So I went off on the Sept, like their seats better than NJ Transit, like their conductor's uniforms better too, and make good use of the Kindle (more fanfiction, thank god for Whispernet!)

Saw some awesome sights there. 
The Masonic Temple:
Centre Square:

But perhaps the most important thing for me was the way that Fate, Destiny or God played a hand in my journey there.  I went to Philadelphia with the vague goal of seeing or (if possibly) going inside Benjamin Franklin's house.  The man is the love of my life, I think he was an amazing, crazy visionary and I worship him (as much as I can worship anyone who is not Carmen M. Negron).  I did not do any research before leavign my house, I just stepped out the door and put the rest in God's hands.

One thing I did look up was Harry's Occult Shop, because I needed some candles.  So in my wandering around the city I very consciously headed in its general direction.  I took a wrong turn somewhere and found myself in front of a pizzeria only to realize that I was hungry.

I walked in.  I did not like the pizza.  The sauce tasted bitter, but being a picky eater, used to being made fun of, I forced myself to eat it, convinced it was only some strange vegetable or spice I was not used to.  I found my way to the store, bought my candles, and wandered off to the Old City to hunt for Benjamin Franklin's house.

My stomach ached and I needed a bathroom pronto.  Thank God for the over abundance of Starbucks restaurants in the world.  I rushed , as gracefully as possible of course.  Afterwards, guilty, I sat down with a cup of coffee (badly in need of a rest).
  Without much to do I read the postings on the wall and found a flyer for a show, Buddha, grabbed a sheet, tucked it into my journal and feeling a little better, went on my way.

I wandered down to the Delaware River where there was a Hispanic celebration of some sort, playing salsa music, I danced a little and drank a Pina Colada (virgin, alas).



I wandered away as quietly as I entered it and got my future told by a "psychic".  (More on that later).

I walked on...

I find myself passing what I assumed to be an alley or entrance to a parking garage of some sort when a horse drawn carriage drives by (I am walking forward, the carriage moving in the opposite direction) and I hear the driver say, "down that street was Benjamin Franklin's house.  I stopped, a foot in the air and pivoted, almost falling (I am not making this up, this is what my life is really like) and march boldly down my alley, barely containing my enthusiasm.  To see this:
  I could go back in time and kill Ben's grandkids; they tore down his house and print shop to put up an apartment complex.  The white lines are where they used to stand, all that can be seen are the foundations dug up later by archaeologists:

Oh well, at least I got to stand there.

My fear was that I wouldn't have anything to pass the time until the time of the play (at eight) or that I wouldn't find the location or that I would be so exhausted that I would fall asleep during the play.

I didn't.  I made it to Benjamin Franklin  High School, , about ten minutes before 8 pm and the show was so engaging that I didn't fall asleep.  In fact, the opposite happened, I was energized by it.  The writer and performer, Evan Brenner, was amazing!

I've always had a vague interest in the Buddha and Eastern philosophy in general, but I have to say now I'm quite interested in learning more about the Buddha and his life and teachings.  They said that the show was coming to NYC in the Fall so I suggest you guys check out the website: www.thebuddhaplay.com and see it.  I'll hopefully watch it again in the Fall after gathering a bit more knowledge, so that I can see it as an informed person.

The execution by the way was amazing, I've never seen a one man play before, and was scared, not just because of the topic, that it mught be boring, but Mr. Brenner brought life to it, he did narration, and dialogue for multiple characters and pulled it off.  There was an interesting structure to the play, a framing device, symbolism and he pulled it all off, by himself!!!

Being a novice about both the Buddha and one man shows, and a rather obtuse one at that, I found that I could follow the story easily, and he injected humor into it!  I thoroughly enjoyed myself, go watch it!

I walked back to the station and rode the train (more Kindle-assisted fanfiction) and walked home (in the rain) at 1:20 am...

All in all the best day of my life (willfully forgetting the bad pizza and bathroom emergency) and the longest walk of my life (1:30 pm - 8:00 pm, with only a few restsops, of less than 10 minutes each, except at Starbucks, but I believe that can be forgiven).

Have fun!  Visit Philly, a wonderful city and read some Franklin, the guy was a genius...

So, 'cause I'm interested in religion I sometimes read the bible.

I'm reading Mark right now (not going to read the other 3 because this is the oldest and probably the most accurate, so why waste my time?) and Jesus says in Mark 6:4 :

Rather comforting article I read earlier: http://www.realitysandwich.com/gathering_tribe.

Go read it!

For anyone who sympathized with me a couple of weeks ago, here is an article I read last night:

11 Ways to Cure Someday Syndrome