This is my time...manifested in such obscurely-lit heights
Jaded by raven-claw reason
and stained by crimson blood sights
Knocked into some melody-ridden mirrored cave...turned inside out
belly up with an eye embedded in my exposed tongue
in view of one way out
Scores of dead bodies...come alive
explode within mid-rise
left are five
sacrifice, change, truth, birth and death
wrapped in the wings of startled suicide epiphany
delivered with bittersweet moist breath
This is my time...manifested in such obscurely lit heights
stabbed with a civilization of prophetic swords
in shifting essence of flickering lantern lights
Under the bright warm green light, he fell fast asleep below a jet black sky teeming with pulsating stars as big as planets. His sleep state carried him into a very strange world.
As he slipped down into what seemed like a never-ending well made of smooth round-cornered stone blocks, rich forest-colored devils with emerald jewels for eyes and mouths that stretched open to reveal dancing screaming teeth, reached out to him with long two-fingered hands revealing semi-translucent, shiny, taut skin.
As he looked up while falling further below into...something...somewhere...he could see the coal black sky shrink to a tiny point which eventually disappeared.
He looked down and could finally see the end of the well. It was an open mouth with a large gleaming rapidly blinking eye in the middle. He felt he would die, feel excruciating pain or encounter a sensation which would obliterate him, but once his body fell through the open mouth and into the fluttering eye, he realized he was submerged in a very warm, embracing body of liquid. Liquid that composed the image of the large flickering eye.
Immediately, his mind and consciousness shifted and he experienced the perception of everyone that he had known and seen throughout his entire life. It was an indescribable and profound happening. He let out a mixed series of yowls, laughter, screams and indefinable vocalizations.
----
Glenda leaned over the bed and looked at her husband. He was in a deep sleep. She decided to wear her exotic black sweater tonight with shimmering crystal sequins. It made her feel elegant and special.
Tomorrow she would be leaving to explore new opportunities. It was time. He looked so peaceful in bed. So very vulnerable and innocent.
He never saw her for who she was. She knew that once he awoke, he would still be asleep, but alive somewhere else. With her he was dead and tired. No longer did her beautiful green eyes create a stir in his soul. Those days were gone.
She decided that the disappearance of special days held great wisdom. They were mothers embedded within a world of watchful esper mothers, swirling around amongst one another with their glorious strands of pixie hair, shaking off gorgeous particles of intoxicating sighs and snowy loving whispers.
She was infinite birth and an apotheosis of all seasons.
----
As all of the omniscient sensations emptied out of his body with each wild utterance, he felt the grasp of a hand becoming stronger around his left leg. The water felt so warm and fluid that he wondered if he was floating within a liquid illusion. He pushed his body around and saw that the hand was attached to no one. It bore a crisp-looking diamond ring with a gold band on the ring finger. The hand looked like it belonged to a woman. A woman with a slight pleasant build. Someone familiar but someone he couldn't recall no matter how hard he tried. The skin was delicate; as if it would tear away from the hand upon the gentlest of touches.
He reached down to grab the hand around his left leg and saw that it disappeared and reappeared on his right leg. However, upon reappearance, the hand was now decayed-looking, mottled gray in hue and the skin was jaggedly broken in several areas with an old worn leathery texture. The diamond ring was now replaced by a bulbous black spider with its thick hairy legs clenched around the hand's ring finger.
Something violently pulled him down into the liquid. He held his breath as he frantically felt his body moving further down into the liquid abyss. He could not make out any direction. He could not see and the temperature of the water became colder. So cold that he felt like he was going to become frozen. His body started to go into shock and he could no longer hold his breath due to time and panic. Just as he was about to give up, he felt his body land onto a soft springy surface. The coldness went away and he was no longer in liquid.
The area was dark but it began to brighten and reveal the interior of his bedroom. It was morning outside the open window next to his bed. The closets were open and his wife's clothes and belongings were gone. He could not move or speak although everything was visible.
His wife came back in the room to stand in the doorway and look over at him again. He tried to call out to her but she could not hear him. He tried again and failed.
He could only hear echoes of his voice as he looked into her eyes. Staring into them conjured up a fervent fever of aching and longing within. Like the early days.
The room disappeared abruptly and Glenda appeared everywhere. Even as he blinked, visions of Glenda appeared as split-second snapshots, reaching out to him in a faraway distance. He looked down at his body and saw thousands of copies of her hands reaching out to feel, grab and seize him.
The floor, filled with faces and garments of Glenda, broke away and revealed the opening of the stone-made well. He began to fall forever...always seeing the beckoning and smiling face of Glenda at the bottom.
She tried joking with him. Lifting her voice and seeing if he'd loosen up and eventually crack his usual crooked, warm smile. But something was wrong.
Very off.
Brian stared down at her with a very unsettling, piercing glare. The expression in his face was alarmingly serious and his eyes were hollow, empty and strange-looking, appearing much darker than usual.
Sharp instinct sent a jolt through her being and made her realize that her husband of 15 years was no longer there. The presence standing before her, posing as Brian, felt gravely threatening and deadly; teeming with dark sadistic desires.
Caryn felt like if she said one more word to him or even reached out to touch him gently, he'd abruptly seize her by the neck with all of his capacity with wild eyes and strangle her lifeless. She had never felt this energy from Brian and she was never scared of him nor did she ever have a reason to be. They had gotten into a typical mild argument earlier and now her attempt to break the ice had invoked the presence of a malevolent stranger.
Someone that had been lurking, undisturbed and asleep, within Brian since childhood.
What does it mean to be very human? How would we all look if we lived by our rawest behavioral codes? I notice that people are threatened by and very judgmental towards other who are "more human" than they are. I guess everything we do is human so to speak because we are humans doing whatever we do, but I am referring to "being human" as a way to describe a state of living in free expression of your natural instincts...no matter how odd they seem.
For example, I'll get an urge to utter this nonsensical sound while sitting at my computer typing. It's random and it doesn't seem to many any sense...but the urge is there once in awhile. If I were in the room with someone else or with a group of people and totally expressed this, I'd probably startle others or make them think I was on something because it's not kosher and "normal" behavior.
I sometimes get the urge to get up and let out a scream, get into a certain body position, moved my arms in a certain way, let out a guttural laugh or say a gibberish word or term that comes about from looking at an associated person or object. Some of these things relate to having synesthesia but I think on a basic level...they are still things that others might feel the need to do too. I censor all of these things when I am around people...because of course I've adapted to common social etiquette and I wouldn't want anyone to perceive me as crazy, unpleasant or uncouth.
But what if we all just let go...lived in a state of complete natural expression and thinking? What would happen? Who would you be? What would you discover about yourself? How would society restructure itself overall? Would we develop a natural life rhythm as a social community?
I think we might be the only species that lives with censorship of our authentic natures.
I know I am not going to go out tomorrow and start behaving this way. My filters will remain on and I will continue to respect social etiquette more or less because I just don't live in that kind of society but I still think about this from time to time. I also wonder if this makes any sense to others. I like to think many can relate to this and that everyone in their own way has their "weird urges" and impulses that they hold back all the time...without thinking...because we've been socialized.
There's an image that keeps popping up in my mind right now; a woman with a see-through belly showcasing multi-colored layered sand art below two prominent tits featured as large bulbous fishbowls each filled with exotic, frenzied-swimming, darting, glimmer-eyed fish. I don't see her head in most images, but when I do; her head is vaguely displayed as a spinning globe cocked to the side with a gold ring around it and a matching neck platform.
Maybe I should sketch this down in my sketch book. There has to be some message in this image somewhere as it keeps springing up.
I don't see her lower body, but I am thinking that I'd draw them as two skyscraper-like buildings. From the feet (first floors) all the way up to the top part of the inner thighs are many stories or floors with stairways that lead one floor to the next. There would be little people running up and down busily throughout these floors constantly performing tasks.
The pelvis up to the lower abdomen, which is right below the sand art belly, would be a birthing factory of some sort. The sand that falls from the belly into the pelvis-abdomen factory would have divine powers that produce life. The sand periodically leaking from the belly area into the factory, like sand seeping into the lower channel of an hour glass, would produce hyper and purpose-fixated homunculi...
Each contributing colored layer of sand from the belly would represent a different vital ingredient for form whole bodies. The factory would incubate the sand mixture and in a certain time period eventually release a newly born but recycled humanoid. That's where all those little people running back and forth in the skyscraper building legs would come from. Each person would have a maximum number of tasks to perform upon birth. As the last task is completed, their life span would end and they'd shrink and dry up into a sandy powder of diverse hues and textures. Another homunculus would come and perform a cleaning task with a ceramic container, broom and dustpan to gather up the sand decay and empty it into one of the many small escalator-deposit openings located within the walls on each floor.
My favorite thing to do is to tell a story and to illustrate it in some fashion.
The art piece "Ginger's Song" has gone through a lot of revisions. The character even looked different in the beginning. Not drastically so, but Ginger was less refined. I like that her features remain odd and characteristic so that you know that although she resembles a human, she belongs in the fantasy realm.
Ginger's Song is a short story concept that I have yet to write. The story is about a young girl with a talent for playing the piano. While practicing in her room on her scaled-down piano that her mother purchased for her years ago, she thinks of a new tune that she's quite fond of and wishes to try out on the piano. At first, the tune doesn't sound right. Some notes are off and it's incomplete.
When she manages to finish composing the tune, something very fantastical happens. One of the walls in her bedroom starts glowing around the edges and eventually breaks away completely to reveal a hidden world. She sees a valley of lush green rolling hills, marbled white fluffy clouds in the sky with a brilliant and crisp sun amid a pale lavender sky tinged with lemon tints and an inviting quaint little schoolhouse with children playfully running around on the grounds not too far in the distance.
Ginger realizes that this special song that she's created is the key to this enchanting world. Anytime she wants to visit, she knows she can play her song, Ginger's Song.
Although, I've decided to showcase my artwork here as well, more of my illustrations can be viewed at:
As Patrick pulled up to the remote hospital near the outskirts of town, he noticed that the parking lots and the premises overall were empty. There was only one car near the front of the hospital entryway and it appeared to be an abandoned slick black Camaro. The Camaro had odd characters carved into the paint job and the tires were missing.
Patrick wondered if the hospital was closed. He also wondered what kind of hospital this was. It was strange and in a very remote part of town that he'd never been to. Why did his friend recommend this place to him last week? There was no one here. Could he even get in?
Patrick took his cell phone out of his pocket and decided to call Thomas. He wanted to verify that he was at the correct address but Patrick noticed that his cell phone could not pick up a signal. He looked again at the building through his car window and saw that the street address matched what he wrote down on paper.
1771.
He was certainly on the street of Uriah. He was on time for his appointment. He also knew that there was no other hospital around the area, so this had to be it.
Patrick decided to get out of his car and walk up to the entrance. As soon as he neared two feet of the entry doors, he was asked to insert his driver’s license into a nearby slot on the left wall for identification. This bewildered Patrick but he figured since he had an appointment, this might be the way that the hospital allowed certain people in during, what seemed so far to be, off-hours.

Once he inserted his ID, the doors automatically slid open and the whimsical and exciting sound of coins falling rapidly and repeatedly out of slot machines could be heard, although there were no slot machines to be seen near the doors and it made no sense to hear them. The place was certainly not a casino of any kind.
He noticed that all of the lobby seats were empty as well. The black and white tiled flooring created a continuous Escher pattern and the walls were decorated in loud, hypnotic, spiral motifs. The chairs arranged around the wall in the lobby were in greens, blues, reds and pinks. They were very modern-looking and resembled the shape of the letter s with wavy indentations.
No one was at the front desk.
Soon, over the speaker system, Patrick heard an echo of melodious chuckles, a clearing of the throat and then a voice prompt, in a strange high-pitched voice with deep undertones, telling him to take a seat only on a green chair and patiently wait to be assisted.
Patrick looked around. He felt a bit scared and extremely confused. What was this place? Where were the staff and medical professionals? None of this made sense.
He walked over to a dark green chair and hesitantly sat down on it. He waited awhile and looked toward his right which stretched down into a very long and slightly dark hallway. He could see no end to the hallway due to the increasing darkness within its visible depth. However, he began to hear something.
Footsteps.
Light footsteps.
As he strained his eyes and edged over the dark green chair to see clearly into the hallway horizon, he started to see a small figure make its way toward the lobby. The figure looked like it belonged to a small child. As the figure emerged into the lobby, Patrick could see that it was indeed a child. The child was unusual looking. It was a girl and she looked like no girl Patrick had ever seen.
She had very black skin like the color of a traditional bowling ball and platinum blond hair that seemed natural rather than dyed. Her cheeks were rotund, shiny and plump so much that they looked like artificial protrusions that hid surgical implants underneath. The little girl's eyes were a piercing glowing green. But a dark emerald green, like the chair Patrick was told to sit in earlier. Her little legs awkwardly crossed over one another as she walked. It was a very rhythmic and robotic walk and cadence. Patrick saw that she was dressed in tiny pantaloons that were puffy around the thighs. The shirt, which exposed her smooth and chubby dark belly and hosted an image of a circle on the front, had puffy short sleeves to match the pants. The entire outfit was lime green.
The little girl was holding a green tray and as she came close to Patrick, he saw that the tray contained a light green candy bar with an infinity symbol embedded on it. The coating of the bar seemed to be some kind of fondant.

Patrick felt paralyzed. He had no idea what was going on and who this peculiar little girl was. He also thought about her parents. Didn't she have parents around? Who was supervising this weird little girl?
"Hey there...are you here by yourself?"
The little girl continued to stare at Patrick with the tray in front of her. She slowly formed a wide but closed-mouth smile but made no other gesture.
"What is your name? Can you understand me? Where are your mother and father? Are they around? Is anyone else around the hospital? Can you tell me?"
The little girl stopped smiling and raised the tray higher and closer to Patrick.
"Eat," she said in a very babyish voice.
"Eat what? The candy bar?"
The little girl giggled and nodded her head playfully. Patrick didn't want to eat anything from the tray. The bar appeared to be clean and no one had bitten into it, but although this was a child, this was a stranger nonetheless and he didn't know what to expect.
"If you tell me your name and get someone to come to the front desk, I will eat a piece of your candy bar OK? Deal?"
The little girl's lips began to quiver and form into a pout and her crystal dark-green eyes started to tear up. She lowered her head and began to cry.
Patrick looked around alarmed to his left and right, especially toward the hallway to see if anyone heard her crying. No one came and the girl cried louder.
"Shhhhhh! Please...stop crying. I'm sorry. Look...I'll eat a piece of your candy bar OK? Just a small piece. But after this you'll have to call someone in to begin my appointment or else I am going to leave."
The little girl looked up from the tray into Patrick's eyes and began to smile again. Patrick picked up the bar from the tray and held it up to his nose. It smelled strongly of vanilla and lemon. The smell was inviting and he could not detect any foulness or decay in its odor.
He broke open the candy bar and was shocked to notice that not only was the inside of the bar hollow but the interior of each broken piece contained a minuscule room with little humans inside of it. They were in the middle of various scenes within a torn apart living room space. He could see a woman in the kitchen cooking, a tiny man on the couch watching TV, 2 miniature children on the floor playing board games with one another and a couple of older people at a dining room table reading.
They all, except for one little man, were oblivious to Patrick's surreal intrusion. Before Patrick could react, he saw that the little man on the left broken piece of the bar stopped watching television, turned around to stare at Patrick and got off the couch. He walked toward the jagged end of the broken bar and sat down with his small legs dangling off the edge. He lifted his diminutive hand and pointed directly at Patrick.
Patrick got the chills, jumped back, let out a yelp and dropped the bar pieces onto the floor and immediately felt the beginning of tremors below the ground and around the walls in the hospital room. It felt like an earthquake. The little girl was gone without a trace although the tray was now on the floor near the disjointed candy bar. The candy bar pieces now looked like the parts of a smashed green scarab beetle with perfectly round blood clots.
Patrick backed away from the wall in horror and began to call out for help. No one came. He saw that the wall behind the chairs was developing cracks and that with each tremor the cracks were fracturing further.
He ran toward the entrance doors on the let but he could not get out. They were locked and would no longer slide open. He banged on the glass doors repeatedly but they still would not open. Patrick saw a full parking lot outside of the glass doors and a thriving community of people walking around. He screamed frantically for assistance and desperately hoped that someone outside would hear him.
No one paid attention.
No one heard him.
The wall as well as the flooring was now splitting fully into two sections...and each side was moving in different motions as if they were on a balancing scale. Patrick stood with his back flat against the glass entry doors in sheer terror watching as the room continued to split in half. He was on the verge of fainting when he saw what the split began to reveal. A pair of extremely large eyes slowly materialized through the ever-growing split revealing a human face with a wide-eyed curious expression.
Patrick started to feel an eerie sensation in his limbs. The sensation forced one of his arms to propel upward and point to the face between the opening. He could fully see the human now. They were holding up each end of the broken-apart hospital room with their gigantic hands. He jutted out his index finger to point at the face peering further into his side of the hospital lobby and let out an unearthly long shriek between his wildly-tortured, stretched-open mouth.
At that moment both sides of the room were released by the humongous hands and Patrick's body slammed hard against the glass doors as he felt a dramatic drop into an indescribable abyss...
Perhaps the trend isn’t so new in certain cultures, in some older generations and cases of estranged relationships between two people who stay married on paper and still live together, but in North America overall the trend of couples, living together either in marriage or a long-term partnership, maintaining separate bedrooms and bathrooms is steadily on the rise.
There are even marriage couples who are looking into buying separate houses, condos and apartment. The claim is that maintaining a good deal of personal space keeps a relationship healthy, symbiotic and enduring.
I am not sure what I think about this solidly. I know being in a long-term relationship (for two years now) with my fiancé, who lives in Canada while I live in the US, taints my opinion of maintaining major separate living conditions. The last thing I’d want to do, after the distance is finally gone between us, is to continue to keep that factor going.
Separate Bathrooms
I do find separate bathrooms very desirable. It is especially ideal for couples who have different habits and similar/different work schedules. One partner might have way more personal items than the other and not mind the counter being somewhat populated. It might sound like a preference based on messiness and laziness but if you are a person who needs to have reasonable access to relative items as you wash your face, comb your hair, apply makeup/shave and so forth, then you will want to arrange certain items around the counter space conveniently and keep those areas dedicated.
Some people are very minimal and extremely low-maintenance. They can’t stand the idea of anything around the counter space aside from a solid bar or bottle of liquid soap and a few hand towels to dry their face with.
A couple’s work schedules can affect the necessity or desirability for separate bathrooms. Usually a household contains a master bathroom connected to or near the master bedroom. If both partners need to get up at the same time to get ready for work and one person needs more time to get ready, then I am sure both people will appreciate having different bathrooms. But I find this to be the least promotional argument for having separate bathrooms. Whether or not two bathrooms spaces are classified each as belonging to a partner is not really effectual. If there is more than one bathroom in the house, someone can always use the other one regardless.
So I think having separate bathrooms is more impacted by habits and need for privacy.
Separate Bedrooms
Hmmm…well this tightens up things a bit. I will bring up the point I made with having two bathrooms, in that if one partner, for whatever reason, wants to sleep in another bedroom, given that there’s more than one bedroom in the house, then they can just do this without classifying it as “their” room.
So this means when I think of a couple having separate bedrooms, it’s more than just an occasional condition. It’s stable and consistent. In this case, I can’t see the desire for this in what I personally consider an idea relationship. I love the idea of sleeping close to my partner in bed each night. I like to feel him near as it makes me feel affectionate, secure and comforted. These seem like natural desires.
I remember reading a thread on a discussion board years ago, asking forum users if they liked the idea of having a separate bedroom from their partner. One man replied that he was a chronic and extremely loud snorer and his wife was a light sleeper. Ever since they got married, she initially found it hard to sleep next to him snoring so loudly and would experience nights where she got very little sleep for work the next day. As a result, he said they winded up maintaining separate sleeping areas. He took on another bedroom in the house.
Another woman mentioned that she and her husband had completely different work schedules and when her husband got up to get ready for work, she did not want her sleep disturbed. So they too began to cultivate separate sleeping quarters.
I guess I can understand these exceptional cases…especially the first one as I would just hate hearing snoring period. That makes me feel glad that I don’t have a partner that snores like that and that I am not a snorer myself.
I think it’s important otherwise for couples to bond physically throughout their relationship, including at bedtime. This doesn’t always mean having sex. This just means being close together. I am not always one to snuggle, especially during very hot weather, but I do like to cuddle up often to my partner when sleeping. Eventually we move apart in our sleep anyway, so it’s not a hindrance. I am not worried about being put in a mindless choke hold while asleep.
Separate Houses
OK this is very weird to me. I can see doing this as a couple wanting to move in together after they officially get married. I can see this for a couple who is not married. As I write this I don’t have anything against cohabiting couples, especially since I’ve experienced this myself in the past, these are just reasons where I can see living in separate houses making sense.
As for a married couple, I don’t understand the reasoning behind this. It’s like a marriage couples wants to have their cake and eat it too. They want the feeling of being single while being married. I think if a couple needs separate housing, they might want to examine their desire for a long-term relationship or marriage…as well as the condition of their relationship period. I mean what’s the point of living in two completely different housing spaces?
Sleep in a different room if you have to in order to maintain privacy, but again different building means “trouble in utopia” so to speak.
I think one other area that might make sense here is if a couple is going through a separation period. They don’t want to officially split up but they do need their time apart to sort things out. They might feel that even living in the same house in separate bedrooms is too close for comfort so they work out living in separate housing until they can resolve their issues.
Overall, people are experimenting with new ways to define their relationships/marriages. For some people, these options work for them. They are able to maintain a healthy and close relationship while sustaining different types of living spaces from mild to extreme. I can’t really argue against whatever a couple does if it makes sense for them and it works.
But I think with whatever decisions people make here, they need to be completely honest about their motivations so both people know that they are on the same page and there are no excuses being made to slowly but safely detach oneself away from a relationship…in other words, taking the passive aggressive approach.
I always love to hear different takes and experiences on this subject though.
The classic song by 80s rap group Black Sheep, "The Choice is Yours" comes to mind right now.
I just read an entry on a Dear Sugar blog. This was the blog entry:
This or That: Her Husband Confesses to Cheating or Having Feelings For You?
Your friend mentioned that she’s been having some issues with her husband lately, however you didn’t realize the extent of it until you head to their house for a dinner party. You watch his behavior turn from bad to worse with each drink. He’s continuing to pick fights with her and she’s obviously humiliated. When she heads into the kitchen, you pull him aside and ask him to stop his unreasonable behavior. Would it be worse if he responds by . . .
This: Confessing to seeing another woman on the side? He’s completely guilt ridden, which is why he's acting this way but he wants to make things right although your friend will be absolutely devastated to learn this news.
Or . . .
That: Revealing that he has deep feelings for you?. His lust and desire for you has made him realize that he can’t stay with your friend anymore.
My thinking is that...it's bad and I'd carry a burden either way but I think it would be worse if he revealed I was the object of his desire. In the case of him telling me about his affair and wanting to work things out...that is such a sensitive scenario. My immediate desire would be to tell my friend but the reactions here could be so complex. It's like I am damned if I do and damned if I don't on so many levels. What I would do is urge him to tell her. Tell her or else I will. That will make it that he has some pressure on his butt to make a move regardless of what results. If he doesn't, then I'd tell her and I'd argue that if it was none of my damn business, then he would have shut his mouth in the first place and not involved me knowing.
In the other scenario...if his partner is my best or good friend, how is she going to react once she finds out not only that he is cheating on some level, but that it involves me??
Of course I would never indulge his desires or return any of his interest. I will NOT do that to a friend for anything even after they break up. But he'd still be cheating because he has fallen in love with me. He's emotionally detached nonetheless. I consider that a form of cheating...hence he has to hide his feelings from his partner.
Anyway...when someone learns that they are being cheated on and their partner loves someone else, I can imagine them handling the situation irrationally and wildly because understandably they are in deep pain. So with the irrationality in context, I can see my friend taking out great anger on me just because I happen to be her partner's love interest and the reason her partner no longer wants to be with her. That's a pretty big mindfuck.
What woman wants to hear this about her best friend and her man? Rationally, she should not blame me and see that I only have her best interests at hand, but again emotions make people internalize a situation in so many unexpected ways. I would give my friend her space but openly and directly let her know I am there for her if she wants to talk.
I would not follow up on any contact with her partner if he tried contacting me later especially if he was an associated friend. I can imagine that he'd try to get with me after they broke up thinking he had a chance.
I think this situation will reveal how strong the friendship is between two women and what kind of dynamics are at play. If the friendship had any underlying catty, ego and jealousy issues to begin with, you'll certainly see them come to the surface in one way or another here on either side...that's for sure.
How would you handle this situation? and which scenario do you think is worse? Anyone experience this before?

