deliriyum

Love ... rinse ... repeat

2011-08-02T01:51:00.001-04:00

by Emily Jones on Wednesday, June 15, 2011 at 1:59pm

i am strong

the world knocks me down

but i am strong

i stand back up again

and face my life

without fear

i am strong

until i am not

sometimes

i get carried away

in a moment

or an emotion

and i feel everything

so intensely

that i must express myself

or drown in my own tears

i love

i hate that i love

Vaseline

2011-08-02T01:50:00.001-04:00

by Emily Jones on Monday, June 6, 2011 at 1:23pm

Love is elusive

Like vaseline between your fingers

It gets where you don't expect it

But rarely where you want it

Love gets abusive

When expectations are not met

When one perceives that the other

Does not love ... in the right way

Love is explosive

Sometimes like fireworks

Lighting up an otherwise dim existence

Often like a match

Sparking and then setting your world on fire

Love is emotive

If we could but get to this point

We would have beaten it

Gotten past the glitch

Rebooted the system.

Hate is the end result

When love is meted out

Like crackers with soup

Or witheld for anger

Or ignorance

Day and Night

2011-08-02T01:49:00.001-04:00

by Emily Jones on Monday, June 6, 2011 at 1:18pm

Oft when the sun shines,

You don’t look

But there is always the warmth

Arms wrapped around you

Shelter from the cold

Oft when the sun shines,

It is hidden

Behind clouds of grey and white

But flowers only grow

Where the rain falls

Oft when the sun shines,

You can’t see

Yet the moon reflects the sun

Even in the dark of night

There is light

Call me luna

Call me love

Take what you wish

But give it back

Feed into me and I

Will quench your thirst

Satisfy your cravings

Fulfill your needs

Take but don't return

And one day you will reach

Into the well of my heart

To find it dry.

Morning

2011-08-02T01:48:00.000-04:00

by Emily Jones on Tuesday, June 7, 2011 at 8:42am

When the eye focuses in on its target

something for which it has searched

for as long as it has been aware

the fundamental reason for its existence

the perfect storm that guides it

that gives it life

there is a flash

nothingness filling with the sum total of the universe

nary a drop spilling

consuming and radiating

processing and creating

the abrupt cessation of everything

followed by the beginning ... of ... something.

it is found in the bright center of a wilted flower

the sparkle in an old man's eyes as he contemplates seeing his true love again

the fresh skin under a crusty wound

the heart is an organ ... and must be strong to survive the rigors

of life and love

space and time

the morning dew refreshes after an interminable night

drink and be renewed

Wasted Time - Originally Posted Nov 17,2007

2011-06-02T04:33:00.002-04:00

One would think that the equation for work would be ...
task / effort = productivity
and in a perfect world perhaps it is. But my world is not perfect. My world is barely comprehensible. Here is a sample Friday.

Task A, begun first thing in the morning per MonGigi's previous day's instructions, is pre-empted by Task B and followed by Tasks C, D, E, F & G. These projects combined with my daily work keeps me quite busy thruout the day, however, the results of Tasks B thru G are never required nay never even requested. My boss ... being management is not expected to be in the office on Saturday but she arrives bright and early looking like she rolled out of the wrong side of the dump truck and lands on her face. "Fires to put out," she'll say when queried about her reason for being here so early. As I am preparing for another day at work ... she asks about Task A's results. Not remembering that she pre-empted Task A with Tasks B thru G just yesterday. I cover my butt and say she'll have it in 15 minutes. When I arrive at her office to present her with the end result of the aforementioned task, she has disappeared. 3 hours later she'll show back up in her office having forgotten completely that she asked for or even ever needed the results of Task A despite the email and the copy that I left on her desk. Sometime about 3 weeks later, she'll inquire about the email and its location on the shared drive ... I'll direct her to it and re-send the email ... which she will promptly follow with an additional 3 hours worth of work to be completed in the next 15 minutes the results of which she wanted 3 weeks ago. "But, those aren't the instructions I was given," I might say. But certainly to unhearing ears ... so why bother?

Should I find this wasted effort and acquiescence on my part to be tantamount to 10 wasted hrs of every day? or should I just pretend that the work that I do is of some use to someone somewhere? I can't decide.

Christmas Ain't All It's Cracked Up To Be.

2010-12-06T17:23:00.004-05:00

I published this back in 2007 on my MySpace blog ... thought I'd transition it over here.

So Christmas is upon us . I can't stand the holiday. I know I know ... you're thinking ... "But you're a Christian HOW can you hate Christmas?" Well let me tell you. First of all ... it's NOT a Christian holiday no matter how you spell it. The birth of Christ should be celebrated by ALL Christians every day. Secondly ... The festival that is now known as Christmas was actually a celebration for the Vedic Solar Deity Mitra. This Hindu deity Mitra was also worshiped by the Persians as Mithra, which later was adopted by Rome and remained even after the conversion to Christianity. There is no record of a December 25th celebration of the birth of Christ in Rome earlier than 336. In Constantinople, no record of a celebration before 378. In Alexandria, not before 400; and in Jerusalem, not before 425.

Our Christian ancestors knew better. The celebration of December 25th was illegal in England. It was outlawed in New England from 1649 to 1658. The December 25th celebration was condemned for its pagan roots by the Puritans, the Methodists, the Quakers, the Amish, the Presbyterians, and the Baptists. Why would they do that if there was not a legitimate problem? Christmas was made a legal holiday in Massachusetts in 1856.

In one brief paragraph, the New Schaff Herzog Encyclopedia of Religious Knowledge tells us how the December 25 holiday entered the Christian Church:

"How much the date of the festival depended upon the pagan Brumalia [The December 25 celebration], following the Saturnalia [an eight-day December 17-24 festival preceding it], and celebrating the shortest day of the year and the 'new sun' . . . cannot be accurately determined. The pagan Saturnalia and Brumalia were too deeply entrenched in popular custom to be set aside by Christian influence . . . The pagan festival with its riot and merrymaking was so popular that Christians were glad of an excuse to continue its celebration with little change in spirit and in manner. Christian preachers of the West and the Near East protested against the unseemly frivolity with which Christ's birthday was celebrated, while Christians of Mesopotamia accused their Western brethren of idolatry and sun worship for adopting as Christian this pagan festival."-- New Schaff-Herzog Encyclopedia of Religious Knowledge, art: "Christmas."

Let us not forget that at Mt. Sinai the people declared the celebrations associated with the "golden calf" to be "a feast to the LORD." He wanted to kill them all, and would have, except for the intervention of Moses. We cannot decide for ourselves what is right and wrong. That is what Satan wants us to do. We cannot proclaim a known pagan birthday to be in honor of Jesus, just because we think it is a good thing to do.

Christmas is nothing more than a false god. A golden calf if you will. Don't let me lie and say I don't like to get presents ... but let's face reality folks ... if it's Jesus' birthday ... then we should be giving gifts to Him ...

Mat 25:40 Verily I say unto you, Inasmuch as ye have done [it] unto one of the least of these my brethren, ye have done [it] unto me.

So let us give to those less fortunate ... instead of going into debt and financing a huge Christmas. Honestly, I don't know how we as Christians should feel about the holiday. I am of two minds about it. Giving gifts is a wonderful feeling ... but the pervasive selfishness of this holiday is so unlike the life Christ would have us lead that I can't imagine He would want us to celebrate this way. The pagan symbols that we have also adopted ... and given new meanings to ... I am truly conflicted about their place in Christian worship.

Sorry for the rambling ... but this IS a blog afterall.

Poetry ... or something like it

2010-05-06T21:25:00.000-04:00

there comes a moment
when life seems to pass so fast
there is no time for the things
you planned from the beginning
the things you built your life around
haven't been done
and there is no time

but the time i have left
i want to spend with you
doing nothing i ever dreamed of
is everything i want
is that too much to ask?
or do you wish to be free?

or is it me ...
who wishes to be free?

do you love me...
do you mean it...
how will you show it...
do you know what kind of commitment i require...
do you know how to give that much?

i'm not sure
anyone
is strong
enough
to be
with me
only i
know myself
and it
will probably
be that way
forever

i need more than most
but i give more than most
i hurt so easily
but i love more than you can imagine

The Next Phase of Emily

2010-04-09T11:48:00.003-04:00

We touched last week on the beginning of the transformation ... I'll continue today ... but this time it will probably lose me some friends. I guess I'm in a place where I'm comfortable enough with myself to accept that most people aren't going to understand me ... but my friends will accept that maybe there is more to me than meets the eye.

We touched on the BDSM scene last week and in truth my experimentation was of the mildest sort. I was essentially introduced to B/D at a BDSM show at Cogan's. I got a taste of having men thank me for beating the shit out of them, leaving marks, and generally allowing me to express my distaste for the human race. it was fun ... and the dark librarian look really intrigued the boys. well that's no way to exercise my hatred for all people everywhere ... so i continued to withdraw into myself. I became darker and more foreboding ... not exactly the kind of girl that boys are fascinated by anymore. Unless of course you had the desire to sit and talk to me ... search out the depths and see that the waters aren't completely treacherous. Through these dark days ... I learned about myself and struggled with certain facets of my being that just ... didn't ... jibe. They didn't work in this world and it made my life hellish. I'm dark, morbid, twisted, kind-hearted, and incredibly sensitive. Not a good combination if you think about it.

During this period I learned something about myself that even I wasn't comfortable with ... mostly in play ... I had discovered submission. Not in the sexual context ... but in ... well ... a complete and total way ... even now I have difficulty verbalizing it because it's so foreign to me. but submission ... is not just doing what someone else tells you to ... but yielding yourself because you know all your needs will be met and that you don't have to think about yourself. It fulfills a significant need in my psyche to forget all about my own well being and concern myself with another. I've never been very good at taking care of myself and when put to task I tend to exclude all others when the responsibility is mine and mine alone. The concept of submission, although foreign, is remarkably freeing. There is freedom in submission. This is not to say that one should just give up their autonomy ... it's not really like that.

Feel free to ask more if you wish ... I do not profess to be an expert ... I just know what little I've picked up.

Birth of a Freak

2010-03-29T12:59:00.011-04:00

Let's talk a little bit about being a freak ... growing up I knew I didn't fit in. I wasn't a jock, or a prep, or a grit, and I wasn't really a nerd but that's where I ended up. I always knew the answers ... but I never got good grades ... so even the nerds didn't necessarily accept me. It wasn't until after boot camp that I was able to express myself. There's something about boot camp that tears you down and rebuilds you without all the mushy parts. I remember the day I stopped wearing colors. I was 19 ... fresh out of bootcamp and a breakup. While in the throes of mourning for my failed relationship, the girlishness completely abandoned my wardrobe. Black, white, and O.D. Green became the colors of my flag ... and my boots were made for walkin' ...

My freakification took place in many stages. The first is described above. The next important phase was getting the hell out of dodge aka Tidewater nka Hampton Roads. I'm prone to packing bags and going wherever it is my little heart desires. So I moved to Seattle to be with Lucas ... my shroomgod. He was the love of my life. Ridiculously passionate but kinda aimless. It's fun for a while but at some point you have to get some direction. After about a year my direction brought me home. Now ... not sure if you've ever left and come back ... but if you're gone long enough the bitterness and bad feelings dissipate leaving you with positive memories of the place that you struggled to escape your whole childhood. Also ... maybe it was just me ... but I came back way cooler. Less uptight. More open-minded. Very Interesting due to my adventures. But I still hated people (and that IS a product of the area).

Having been exposed to industrial music prior to my adventures, when I returned I found myself hanging out with the "goths" just cuz I liked the music and the style. Always an outsider I was still "NOT a goth" or a phrase I coined a "conserva-freak". It started off with just some fishnets ... black eyeliner ... 22 hole docs ... spiked collars ... a borrowed vinyl dress ... 3 point restraints ... black leather straitjacket ... fetish balls in Richmond ... a weekly s/m show (@ cogan's back in the day) ... not sure if you want to know where that led ... but needless to say the bdsm circles kinda promote tri-sexuality.

Although quite monogamous ... there was exploration with bondage and domination ... of course I was always the top. Expressing my genuine distaste for people & it was rarely sexual (for me anyway). It wasn't until much later that I realized there's much more freedom in submission. Another story for another #FreakFlagFriday ... ;-S

Ok ... enough #FFF ... hell I think this covers #TMItuesday too.

Thoughts on Thanksgiving ...

2009-11-27T14:39:00.005-05:00

I have been known to splurge over the holidays ... to spend more money than I should ... cook more than I can eat ... eat more than I should. These things make the holidays feel better. I'd like to investigate this need to over indulge over the holidays. Let's look at Thanksgiving first. If this is a day of thanks, a day to enjoy the gifts that God has given you ... family, friends, a "bountiful harvest" ... then why on earth is it so painful? You spend time with family members that you don't see any other time of year. Why? Because you don't like them.

Whomever is hosting has the horrific task of cooking food for dozens of people and cleaning up their mess. Have YOU ever tried this? My mother is a wreck for weeks before Thanksgiving, especially if her uppity brother and his family are coming. She moves all the furniture and cleans everything ... including the baseboards. We are not talking about a house that NEEDS this kind of attention. My mother is pretty fanatical about cleaning no matter what she might say, so this kind of attention to areas in her house whcih are neither dirty nor visible, is completely obsessive. The cooking is unbelievable. We don't open a can for anything ... gravy, cranberry sauce, stuffing, even the ham is cooked with love and tenderness. But after the meal, when we are all stuffed and miserable, because our blood sugar is so high that we are virtually in a turkey coma, come the dishes ... and moving all the furniture BACK to where it was originally.

It's a pleasure to spend time with my family ... with a few exceptions. For example, this year my grandmother made me cry. Why do we find it necessary to include those family members who really make a point of not playing fair? Ok ... enough about the jerks I am blessed to be related to ... and back to the point of this post. If this is a day of joy and of giving thanks ... why do we feel so miserable when it's over?

In MY life, everyday is Thanksgiving. I am thankful for so much ... and I express these thanks every single day. I actually find the idea of a day of "giving thanks" rather perverted. We are no longer an agrarian society, and this holiday was designed to celebrate the "bountiful harvest". We're not growing the sweet potatoes anymore. We can't go out in the backyard and kill the turkey anymore. We don't have a crop of corn to bring in and boil. This holiday ... or the fashion with which we celebrate it ... is antiquated and now serves more as a reminder of how good things COULD be ... rather than how good things ARE. At this point I would like to re-emphasize that I love my family. I go out of my way to spend time with them whenever I can. It is simply that these holidays are too full of pomp ... and ultimately mean very little in and of themselves.

Let's step back for a moment and consider our options. May I suggest taking a moment in every day to consider your life and the things for which you are thankful? Make a point of calling or visiting someone who is on your mind throughout the year. Show them how important they really are to you.

I do, in actuality, enjoy Thanksgiving. I particularly enjoy seeing family that I haven't been able to visit over the year. I enjoy sharing a meal of unrivaled decadence with the people I love the most. I like chilling and playing games or watching TV afterward. My family means the world to me ... ok ... MOST of them ... and I am grateful to have this day where we can all get together and simply BE.

I could keep going but now I'm just rambling. Up next ... Christmas.