I spell it out like that so it doesn't really look like the age that shall not be named. I know I shouldn't be bothered. It is nothing but a number. I don't look the age that shall not be named. I don't think I act that old either. Although I am not exactly sure how you are supposed to act. But I have it seems fallen in to a small pit of despair over it. You know, here I am the age that shall not be named and what have I done? And I know that where I am in life doesn't have anything to do with age. I know that. But it seems that bothers me anyway. And I know I am going to be 41 and I can be right where I am or I can be where I want to be. Of course that extends the thought that I know where I want to be. I sort of do. It is some nebulous place where I am doing something creative and I am happy and fulfilled. Of course there again that leads you to believe that I know what it feels like to be fulfilled. I am not sure I do.
Anyway
I turn the age that shall not be named on Saturday.
Happy birthday to me.
What work of art (film, book, record, whatever) changed your life?
Submitted by bodhibound.
That would have to be "Up to the Roof" by Blue Man Group. It really describes how I feel about myself. How I think the best part of me sees the world. I often wish I had the courage to really take the fire escape up to the roof. I have to a certain extent realized that my goals in life are not necessarily what other peoples are. My inner landscape is really more important to me that the landscape most everyone sees. Not to say I am a total new ager. I can be as shallow as the next person. I am a creative being. Feeling creatively fulfilled really matters to me.
I have had this on my live journal for a while now. I love it so I am going to post it here.
Departure
by Kristispyder (or rather the Spike living in my head)
They haven’t figured it out.
It is right in front of their faces and they can’t seem to
understand the need.
The ecstasy that never seems to be fulfilled.
The awesome revelation that comes over you the moment
your mouth fills with the liquid light.
And every time it is new.
If they knew they would be here.
They would be lining up to trade the pain for the aching need
that never really gets sated.
And still, it is so much better than what they have now.
Letting the slow spiral fall about you.
Losing yourself in the crimson.
The intoxication of the color.
Falling so much farther than the floor.
Knowing that it will have to end, and even in that there
is celebration.
It means this need - this delicious emptiness - will again
need to be filled.
And again and again and again.
It’s smelling the fear.
Dying to see that naked gleam in the eyes of the one you
have happened on in the night.
Or perhaps one that you have interwoven into your nights
for days or weeks or months.
Knowing you will soon know them more intimately
than any lover could have dared.
And for one brief moment they will know this bliss
and even after they have loosed this moral coil
they will long for that moment again.
And again and again and again.
They are fools
I know, because I have been there
On that precipice.
Between heaven and hell.
Between light and dark.
Knowing that blood is the Goddess and I will again
worship her with abandon.
Reveling in the endless flow.
The delicious agony of the hunt and the
unashamed anointment that follows.
I can still feel it falling into me.
Feel the pulse of the darkness
In my arms.
In my legs.
In my cock.
It’s departure is deafening.
My Groups
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Harry Potter Updated: 6 days ago
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The Three Broomsticks Updated: 6 days ago
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Laurell K Hamilton Updated: 7 days ago
