My Blog

Driven

zayna — Fri, 12 Oct 2007 06:26:34 GMT

I feel it collecting crackling as it races through my veins heat lightning desperate to spill from my fingertips flashing over letters as words tumble from my head all I need is the catalyst and it is coming numbing me to painful reality reminding me of the Dream I Am become the vision - muse breathed to life building behind that fleshy dam about to burst magick mind but which came first doesn't matter anymore One with endless waves above an abyss driven by lunacy the consequence of so much raw power there is no mercy here only me driving driving driven

I Love Halloween...

zayna — Sun, 09 Sep 2007 09:48:31 GMT

I realize it's only September 9th but I have my Halloween decorations up already. Why? I love it. No other reason. I want to. Go ahead. Make fun. I don't care. ;) I just want to enjoy it for as long as I possibly can. Don't worry - I don't do this at Christmas time. I never get those decorations out until after Thanksgiving. I swear! You can even ask Basina!

WONDERFUL!!!!!

zayna — Sun, 05 Mar 2006 18:09:31 GMT

Well, today has been a wonderful day. I mean *truly wonderful! First, I got up and felt rested for the first time in days. I took my time and got ready to go do all my running. I left at around 9:30 this morning, ran to the post office and sent some bellydance dvd's to my Sister, then thought I'd just see if I could get in for a walk-in eye exam since I needed to update my glasses for driving anyway. I got in. The eyes are still in great shape and I only need the glasses for driving and working on the computer. Great! Even found a new set of frames that are a little more stylish - I get those in a week or so. I got the grocery shopping done in great time and spent less money than I'd expected to spend - which was good since I spent entirely too much on my new frames. I even bought a rotisserie chicken and some potato wedges and they're warming in the over, so there's no cooking for dinner tonight. Good stuff. I got home and had just started to put everything away when my Sister calls. She says, "Important question." I say, "Alright, shoot." She says, "Do you want my car?" "...What," I say and grin, certain there's some punchline soon to follow. "Do you want my car," she says again. "Why, what's happening," I ask, certain now that with her luck, it's been wrecked or something and she's flipping out, though oddly the feeling of dread that accompanies a call from her when there's trouble is absent and she sounds amazingly jovial for someone whose car has been wrecked. She says, "X" (her boyfriend) decided to upgrade my car to a new one so we're giving mine to you if you want it." Giving it to me... We both start crying and laughing. My car has been slowly dying for a while now and I haven't been able to visit her in ages because of it. She lives nearly 6 hours away from me. My soon-to-be "new" car is a 2005 Subaru, fully loaded with only 11,000 miles on it and a 3-year warranty. I. Am. BESIDE myself! I have NO idea what I did to deserve this karma, but I will take it and smile, giggle and cavort my way through the rest of this day and probably several after! I pick up my car soon AND I get to visit her while doing so! CHEER! LIFE IS GOOD!

A Time of Reflection

zayna — Wed, 28 Dec 2005 14:04:45 GMT

I don't know what it is - the end of the year, the cold twilight creeping in ever earlier? This time of year, between the holidays, reminds me of those I've been blessed to know and heartbroken to have lost. Grandma Mickey. So elegant and full of grace. You were our Hepburn. You always had time for me. I was ever your "little dolly dumpling", no matter how obnoxious I could be. You made the best cake in the world and I've forever been spoiled by the jars and jars of dill pickles no one will ever be able to duplicate. This year I will use the recipe you entrusted me with and I will do my best not to cry when I bite into the first perfect pickle. Aunt Nancy. You were stolen from us too early. But I think you knew it would be becuase you lived more than most in the time you had. You were my world traveler, my finder of the four-leaf clover. You made me love nature more than any other and taught me how to find joy in the smallest of things. You taught me that life is precious and far too fragile and that there is too little time with the people who mean the most. Papa. I remember when you'd peel your apples for sauce. You'd spy me sideways, standing on tippy-toe to watch, tongue on my upper lip as I looked at the skins. You'd slip me piece after piece, always with more apple than skin. You'd let me catch as many fish as I wanted and then clean them for me without complaint. You who were always gruff and so, so big, would let me stand behind your chair for hours, putting your white hair in curlers or ponytails. Somehow you managed to look stoic through all my tortures and the only payment you collected was a moment of my time, a kiss on your roughened cheek. Oh, Grandma. I still miss you most of all. I still dream of you in your garden. Your smile still lights my eyes and every rainbow I see I know you sent. I feel your gentle presence in this house day after day and now that it's my turn, I feel that wise, knowing smile on me so very often. I know you are proud of me and it makes my darkest moments a little brighter. I will carry you in my heart forever and because of you, I shall always Believe. Now that the year is nearing its end, it is time for me to turn my gaze once more to the future. But I shall never forget those who gave me so much joy and who had so much to do with shaping the woman I have become.

Hypocrisy

zayna — Mon, 17 Oct 2005 20:11:08 GMT

Anyone familiar with the old adage "practice what you preach"? It amazes me in this day and age how many people seem unaware of - or maybe too ignorant to decipher - the meaning behind it. There are entirely too many examples in this world of hypocrisy and it's a GIANT pet peeve of mine. There's almost nothing worse than a liar - especially one who buys their own line of crap and to me a hypocrite ranks JUUUUST below THAT. You berate someone for doing something "wrong", when all the while you go ahead do the same exact thing - just secretly so nobody knows your dirty little secret. Just lights my fuse and I see it more and more every day. Absolutely disgusting... But let me tell you how I *really feel! ;)

Why I Hate Geese

zayna — Sat, 06 Aug 2005 00:31:24 GMT

I think I still bear a grudge from... Okay, I can see I'm going to have tell you a brief story and expose my dreaded mean streak. Yep, I do have one and I do my best to squelch it but occasionally, something like geese just brings it all back in vibrant, living color. lol One summer, when I was thirteen years old, I was visiting my sister Lora for a week. They lived on a little farm and they had lots of animals - chickens, goats, cats, dogs... and they had a goose. This big white ogre hated everyone except my brother-in-law. It would sidle up to him and just dote on him, slithering around his legs like a cat while he worked outside. But anyone aside from him was fair game. That goose would chase anyone who got close enough for it to victimize. I avoided that little dickens like the plague, of course. It would watch me like a snake from across the yard and I could just see the inner workings of its evil little mind. I didn't want it to pinch me with that nasty, orange beak and over time my overactive imagination had transformed the gawky bird into a raptor. But one day, after having gone with Lora to get groceries, we returned home and I was helping her carry said groceries into the house. Well that goose knew I couldn't move quickly for two reasons: 1) I had a limp - I had just gotten through with a four-month stint in a toe to thigh plaster cast after a badly broken leg. And 2) My arms were full of groceries. I was easy prey. So here comes this hissing, honking antagonist and I could do nothing except feel the dread wash over me as I watched it come. That goose started pinching me all over, hissing and driving its beak at my arms, then starting to reach higher toward my face. It hurt! My sister was telling me over her shoulder to keep walking and the goose couldn't get me, but she was in front of me quite a ways and didn't see how close it actually had been to begin with. Well, the pain of those pinches awoke something awful in me. Before I consciously realized what I was doing, one hand shot out from under the grocery bag and my fingers wrapped themselves around that bird's throat. I was gritting my teeth and squeezing the life out of the thing. I knew I was becuase I heard a choked, panicky noise coming from it and its flat, black eyes were bulging cartoonishly out. I stared into that animal's eyes with all the warmth of a shark and I think in that moment the goose knew I wasn't alarmed at the idea of its impending death. Another moment passed and I knew I'd have to let go or I really would kill it, but I didn't want it to start chasing me again. So I gave its throat one more good squeeze, a kind of universal language warning that I'd crush its windpipe if it bothered me again and let it go with a little shove. It staggered drunkenly for a moment, then seemed to come back to itself. It turned tail and ran, wings flapping wildly to give it a little extra speed as it went. I started thinking rationally again and then the guilt overwhelmed me. Oh my GOD! I could have KILLED that bird! I don't care, whispered a malicious little voice in the back of my mind, and then I clamped a hand over my mouth as though I'd uttered the phrase aloud. I looked furtively around but no one had seen the attack...or the counter attack for that matter. I hurried the groceries inside and helped Lora put them away but my hands were shaking and I wanted to cry. That bird never, ever bothered me again, but to this day I hate it for bringing that black and ugly feeling to the front of my consciousness. I'm not a violent person, but because of that incident, I know I can snap and I don't like that knowledge at all. I suppose I'm the comic version of Clarice in "Silence of the Lambs"... "Silence of the Geese"! Oh yes, friends, and in THIS movie, the heroine is a hybrid cross between Clarice and Hanibal! Argh. And now I have shared my deep dark secret.

To Dream (A first submission to the Creative Writing Tribe)

zayna — Thu, 04 Aug 2005 09:01:03 GMT

Sun, June 5, 2005 - 2:47 PM To Dream He was lost - a blur of many shades - a shadow in the darkest part of the night. He wanted, he needed. He was angry and bitter, full of black hate. He was alone, unneeded, unheeded and dear god...so fucking *lost* in the Black. But then one night, or one day (there was no light here), there she was, in vibrant, living colors. She did not know him but she Knew him through and through. He had Known her forever the first time he saw into the depthless grey of her eyes. She offered him a slender, moonpale hand, and though he could not say why - they had never exchanged a word - he took it. She pulled him. Not into the bright, stark light of the sun, but out of the Black and into the Blue, the blue passion of sublunary light. Same blue as the ocean...same blue as her eyes... She pulled him up and he followed the rhythm of her heart. It pounded in his ears like a song. He wanted to move, to dance but not alone. He laced his fingers into thick, auburn curls and closed them around fistfulls of it. He pulled her head backward and pressed his lips against the pulse in the delicate curve of her throat. She was warm and alive and she Knew. Suddenly, he did not hate. Suddenly the idea of eternity was not such a curse, if only he could Be with Her. He felt intoxicated. They swayed together and he took her head in his hands. Silver. Not grey, not blue, but silver...why had they seemed so grey in the Black? They glittered like gems and reflected the moon, the moon, the... Where was it? No moon here, only She. She was all there was and the light was coming from Her. It spilled out of her in warm waves, rushing over him like the tide, inundating him with Passion. Now they would dance. Forever. He blinked. And when he opened his eyes again, he squinted against the cruel, cold glare of the yellow sun and cursed the bitter sound of his alarm.