He could have taken her to the Grande Palace Resort, but chose a seedy hotel on the waterfront, within walking distance of the Pier; for it lent an air of noir to the affair, that mixed well with her fatalistic attitude of their coupling. Though he hated when she spoke in “after the fact” tense, it was one of her curious traits that he found most fascinating; her ability to see the world in ways and realms that most could not; including her knowing how they would end, before they even began.

He was a superficial praise whore to be sure, putting himself at the center of attention if he didn’t happened to automatically fall there; and while those around him found him an overbearing, egocentric ass, she sensed his insecurity and saw something deeper that others did not, and that’s the part she wanted to touch. But their chemistry and attraction was unparalleled and irresistible; taking them straight to that line they should never have crossed; the means to their inevitable demise.

The path by which she led him was laden with mystery and truth; the things they did in room 231 was nothing short of debauched wickedness. Touching on every human compulsion and desire; connected by kismet, each movement determined. She coaxed him deeper than he’d ever gone, then feasted on his philosophy, all the while stroking his ego and soothing his soul.

The scars she was left with are worn as badges of valor, for the end was truly a vicious battle; and while she believed that he’d grown from their time and experience, in the end he retreated right back to that haven of superficiality, convenience and comfort; the one that stifled, restricted and smothered. The one he thanked her, on countless occasions, for releasing him from.

What she hadn’t foreseen was the coward he’d become when the black cloud moved in and ultimatums rained down; choosing to cling to collected possessions that held no meaning, but symbolized his monetary value and social standing; rather than harnessing his soul that had only just begun to soar, and riding the current of freedom wherever it happened to take him.

She understood the cruelty he showered upon her, in the form of his words immediately thereafter; actions displaying the stand he was taking, to appease the one he’d forsaken; malicious words intended to wound; of regrettable mistakes and meaningless missteps, that he would spend the rest of his life repenting. But the blatant disrespect he hurled in her direction, when their paths crossed and they landed face-to-face, was more than she could suffer.

She knew their truth, yet he chose to live his own lie; and she’d walked away peacefully with no looking back. The justification for his hatred was pure ego-driven; reminding and rubbing her nose in the fact, that he stood far above on the ladder of success and achievement, whose rungs she refused to climb; when he knew deep inside that his position and wealth had never meant anything or impressed her in the least. She was the only true spirit he’d ever known; her freedom the very thing he longed for – the one thing he was afraid to embrace.

The depth of his shallowness was revealed to the world, on that cold, rainy November night. The camera crew zoomed in on the crime scene; police tape blocking off the street, a shiny, silver Maserati parked in the alley alongside the Hotel Palamar. Two victims found in the car, both having died from multiple gunshot wounds. President and CEO of prominent architectural firm and an unidentified prostitute, both having met their untimely demise during an apparent act of unfinished fellatio.

She gazed at the image on the television screen, as the camera panned out and revealed the full scene, her eyes were immediately drawn to the window on the second floor; a window she knew too well – the window to room 231, where they’d carried out their affair.

They say some men you just can’t reach, and while she didn’t doubt that for a moment, she also believed that upon reaching that place at the core of one’s soul and touching upon the truth that dwells there, some simply aren’t courageous enough to reach out and embrace it; choosing instead to succumb to their fear and fade into the illusion.

Wandering thoughts
Leading deeper
Endless hours
Pass by idle

Tears born of
Frustration
Wanting so much
To believe

While truths falsities
Ebb and flow
Raging as the sea

To shed tears of happiness
Heart swollen with joy
From the gift of truth
Another should bestow

But what illusions spring
From a bounty of words
While reading the pages
Of one’s very soul

A beacon in the darkness
Wrapping round the heart
Come to life on a virtual page

Where freedom is found
Chained spirits do soar
And the abyss calls you
By name

Shana was the drama queen of the group; pampered, posh and completely plastic. There wasn’t a single person in the office that wasn’t aware of the fact that she didn’t have to work, she chose to; for walking around money. Whenever there was reason for an occasion, she made it a point to play hostess, then downplayed the maid and gourmet chef who not only worked the soiree, but were full time employees.

They had three children, with a live-in nanny who raised them rather than tended them. Ponte Vedra Beach is where they resided; in a sprawling 8,000 square foot oceanfront mansion with their own private stretch of beach; a showplace to be certain, just as Shana was a show piece to her husband.

Sure, she thrived on the attention her looks afforded her, but in truth she loathed the amount of time she was made to spend on her appearance. Yes, “made to.”

Her husband was the most sought after plastic surgeon in northeast Florida and had invested tens of thousands of dollars of his time and talent, on breast implants, tummy tuck and lipo after their last child was born and they were certain they wanted no more.

He hired a personal trainer, which came five mornings a week, to make certain she worked out, because quite frankly, he didn’t trust her to do it on her own; and the chef was to prepare all her meals and keep track of what she ate on a daily basis, so that at the end of the week he could assess her caloric intake and adjust her workout accordingly.

He put her on a routine Botox schedule, which just so happened to coincide with her Mercedes maintenance. Three thousand mile oil change, tire rotation and Botox injections, all in the same day, which she swore was just a coincidence.

As she drained the last of her third margarita, she confessed that he’d recently hinted that for her 43rd birthday he might be giving her a facelift, then burst into tears; professing how miserable she was, and that at the end of the day, all the money, clothes, jewelry, memberships and trips abroad did nothing to ease her loneliness.

Then in the very next breath she turned to me and asked if I knew how many calories were in a margarita. I told her I didn’t know and what difference did it make. She looked at me like I was crazy and said, “Are you kidding me? It makes ALL the difference! I don’t have the luxury you do, of having a husband who loves me unconditionally. Richard is surrounded by young, beautiful women every single day and the last thing in the world I want, is to be forty-three and single, with three kids and forced to take care of myself!”

“CHECK PLEASE…”

She doesn’t seek his memory, it just comes creeping; and when it does, that’s all there is.

Its nothing to do with fear or inspiration; building a fan base that was there long before he was; or anything at all for matter of fact. For who would dream of seeking such hurt.

Its simply a means of soul survival; an attempt to heal, her wounds on her own. Purging her being in the form of words; bloodletting her system of his poison, his disease. Being caught in the death trap, he sets and springs.

His desperation for reprieve, amounting to nothing; empty words of apology and pleas of forgiveness. He gobbles her words and his ego grows, waiting for Twitter to tell him there’s more.

An advertisement for acclaimed feature films that grabbed my attention. And so I began to browse the images of the available DVD’s. It was a strange, almost eerie image that I was drawn to; the silhouette of a horse with its head in a downward position and something unidentifiable in the one visible eye; the word ZOO typed beside it.

I went online and did a search for the movie trailer. Upon closer examination of the movie poster, it appeared to be the bust of a naked man reflected in the horses eye, but I couldn’t make it out for certain. Then I began to read the blurb and immediately wished that I had never received the catalog, as I read about the feature length documentary that focuses on a man who died and his group of friends in Washington State who call themselves the Zoo; partaking and video taping their acts of zoophilia with the stallions; having chosen this particular farm, due to the fact that there are no state laws against having sex with animals.

“JESUS CHRIST,” I heard my self say aloud, just as the darkness came crashing down.

I know you feel the weight of my heavy, saddened heart, laden with complete and utter disgust.; but do you hear the sound, of my wounded soul weeping; for my self and all of mankind?

What comfort can you offer, in light of such abomination; vile, shameful, detestable acts; exploited documentary style, romanticized by critics, that I have unwillingly become privy to this night?

There are moments we live that stay with us forever; traces we’ll carry into the ether. There are sights and sounds and things we witness, that leave such an impression, we are changed forever.

I fear the mark made on my psyche and soul, will remain a permanent stain that will never fade away. And there is no understanding, no wanting of reason; just pure abhorrent evil, the only conclusion, to why man could do such things.

And I wonder why, such pathetic beings, are given life in the first place. Allowed to breath and breed right along side us.

My instinct is to hide. To take my child and run as far from mankind as we can possibly get. But I no longer believe there is a safe place, for we are surrounded at all times, each and every day of our lives.

Yesterday the headlines. Today this. I cannot help but wonder, what message the universe is trying to send me, by blinding me with this darkness.

DEAR GOD…won’t you please deliver us from this evil?

An advertisement for acclaimed feature films that grabbed my attention. And so I began to browse the images of the available DVD’s. It was a strange, almost eerie image that I was drawn to; the silhouette of a horse with its head in a downward position and something unidentifiable in the one visible eye; the word ZOO typed beside it.

I went online and did a search for the movie trailer. Upon closer examination of the movie poster, it appeared to be the bust of a naked man reflected in the horses eye, but I couldn’t make it out for certain. Then I began to read the blurb and immediately wished that I had never received the catalog, as I read about the feature length documentary that focuses on a man who died and his group of friends in Washington State who call themselves the Zoo; partaking and video taping their acts of zoophilia with the stallions; having chosen this particular farm, due to the fact that there are no state laws against having sex with animals.

“JESUS CHRIST,” I heard my self say aloud, just as the darkness came crashing down.

I know you feel the weight of my heavy, saddened heart, laden with complete and utter disgust.; but do you hear the sound, of my wounded soul weeping; for my self and all of mankind?

What comfort can you offer, in light of such abomination; vile, shameful, detestable acts; exploited documentary style, romanticized by critics, that I have unwillingly become privy to this night?

There are moments we live that stay with us forever; traces we’ll carry into the ether. There are sights and sounds and things we witness, that leave such an impression, we are changed forever.

I fear the mark made on my psyche and soul, will remain a permanent stain that will never fade away. And there is no understanding, no wanting of reason; just pure abhorrent evil, the only conclusion, to why man could do such things.

And I wonder why, such pathetic beings, are given life in the first place. Allowed to breath and breed right along side us.

My instinct is to hide. To take my child and run as far from mankind as we can possibly get. But I no longer believe there is a safe place, for we are surrounded at all times, each and every day of our lives.

Yesterday the headlines. Today this. I cannot help but wonder, what message the universe is trying to send me, by blinding me with this darkness.

DEAR GOD…won’t you please deliver us from this evil?

Lab worker held in Yale student’s slaying – Mom finds slain bodies of 2 kids, ex-husband – Case casts spotlight on sex offenders – Hofstra student recants rape story – Millionaire gets 8 years for sex with orphans – Teen could be charged in smaller L.A. fire – Bone found at Calif. kidnap suspects’ home – Notre Dame sues ex-worker over $29,000 tip – Woman arrested for spanking stranger’s child – Prison log: Execution trouble due to drug use

She finished the list, turned off the computer and gently shut the lid. Walked to her bedroom, closed the curtains, climbed into bed, pulled the covers over her head; and wept.

Some people laugh and call it cute.
Some people label her anti-social.

Some think she’s naïve, lost in her own world.
Some call her a self-centered bitch.

Some say she’s an overprotective mother.
Some advise she should cut the apron strings.

Some get it.
Some never will.

She didn’t ask to be here. Wasn’t an errant soul who mistakenly happened into this world; sent here as punishment for behaving badly, or waiting for that next big reincarnation, in search of a real adventure.
But she is.
Here.

That doesn’t mean she has to like it. Doesn’t mean that by being “one with the universe,” she must accept that being part of the “whole,” means we are “all one.” She’s not certain if she will ever accept that as truth. Perhaps that’s why she’s here now. Perhaps that’s the one thing that keeps bringing her back; over and over again.

She has a very clear vision of the duality of good and evil that lives within each and every human being. Possesses an uncanny ability to penetrate the façade, see behind the veil, and into the soul where good and evil resides. A gift? A curse? Call it what you will, but its something she has lived with her entire life. Defining and honing in her adulthood. Used as a tool to reason and rationalize paths taken in her youth. Researching and recording events predicted, premonitions seen, déjà vu witnessed.

Her path is a winding one. Her journey is of a spiritual nature. Not in search of God, for she knows where He dwells, but rather to obtain a better understanding of the why’s and how’s of this material world, as well as the afterworld and those who dwell in between the two.

Knowing for certain that when we reach the highest realm of being, we will be shown the ultimate reality; when everything else leading to it, is nothing but illusion; an illusion that all too often is filled with real life monsters, who take lives and destroy souls.

There is a very real battle of good and evil, existing in all corners of the world, every single minute of every single day. Well aware of the ever-present threat, she does not wear blinders because she’s too weak or uncaring to handle the truth of the world. She does it out of necessity; for her own personal survival.

She is unable to return the gift she was given; to lift the curse and see only what she chooses; incapable of numbing herself to the truth within the illusion, by allowing herself to be spoon fed images that television executives and the media think we need to see and hear, by simply tuning in and zoning out. It doesn’t work that way for her.

But, oh, how she sometimes wishes it did…

He could see how tired she was, that day he happened upon her alone in the café; and though he purposely took his thoughts elsewhere, ignoring her completely, he knew from her body language that he’d once known so well, there was something amiss; and he couldn’t help but wonder what was going on in her life that was causing such fatigue.

Years ago he’d gone away from her, removed her completely from the equation of his life; but that didn’t stop him, from on occasion, seeing her shadow pass across his wall. Each time it happened, his perception shifting; re-instilling those truths and beliefs he’d discovered while in the presence of her; a presence he once believed was easy to shake, though part of him secretly yearned to hold onto.

While his real life was constantly in the forefront of his thinking, somewhere in the back of his mind lingered the life they had known; that driving light, filled with her laughter, dimmed by her cries, exploding with their passion; bringing something magical to his world of sameness.

His ability to sense her presence from miles away, clouding his memory on sun-dappled days; the one constant, through the years that had remained; though he still wasn’t sure, if what he was feeling was real; or simply his imagination running wild, that caused him to linger, night after endless night. A vigil in the darkness, waiting for and willing her to come.

The rains came, followed by raging thunder and a fantastical lightening show, as he sat in the corner of the darkened room; waiting, watching, hoping; that she would not disappoint. He fell asleep in the chair somewhere around three, waking suddenly as a cool breeze, brushed gently across his flesh.

He opened his eyes and watched in silent fascination; as the misty shadow floated gracefully across the room; then as if willing it to happen, she slowly began to materialize.

She was wild-eyed in her misery, carrying the same tired and worn out expression he’d seen a few days before, etched across her beautiful face. He knew right then that he had called her to him; that she never would have come on her own. His heart overflowing, with the sudden feeling of guilt; for the pain he had caused, because of what together they had done.

He sat up a little straighter, unconsciously clinging to the arms of the chair; gathering courage, he spoke out to her. “I don’t blame you. I know you think I do; but I don’t. I never did.”

She turned slowly, casting her gaze upon him; the veil of her so thin, that he could see right through it. In the blink of an eye, the span of a breath, she was upon him; face-to-face, as they once comfortably lay. She hovered in front of him, weightless; though he could feel her pressing down on him; searching his face, seeking truth in his eyes; as a single tear, sparkling like a jewel, dripped from hers; landing as a raindrop, upon his naked thigh.

He wanted to tell her that he missed her; that he worried and wondered of her constantly. That their time spent together had not been in vain; that a part of her, in his heart, would always remain. And while the words he still could not muster, the one thing she never ran dry of; the truth she saw clearly, in his green aging eyes.

Of me
About me
In spite of me

Because
He knew me

Because
I let him

Because
I wanted him to

Like none other
Before or after

Deeper
Better

To the core

Then left to wonder
If he knew me
At all

She fled his
Love
Not once
But twice
Following a
Heart
Laden with
Lies

He never
Asked
For her
Madness
Yet withstood
The wrath
Diligently

She will gladly
Spend
The rest of
Her days
Loving him
Completely

She owes him
Nothing less
While he
Deserves
So much
More

image:faerienymph