Sunday, May 17, 2015

Remember Dionysus gave rock n roll to you

I was just listening to that old song from 1989 by Kiss "Hide Your Heart".  One of those backwards love songs that you don't think of as a love song right off the bat because it's not slow. It's not until you listen to a few lines that you get it.  It's also got a deeper underline to it.  Be careful what you choose. Or in this case, who you choose.
It's the age old idea of following your heart or your head. Which is something that everyone finds themselves in the middle of more then once in their life, and not always about relationships either.

I'm sure I freaked out a few of the neighbours as they walked down the hallway just now, as I sang along to it. I had one of those moments during the song where I had wished I'd followed my heart when I was younger and had had the opportunity to sing. Really sing, not just...well not just the starts and stops in an old friends garage band that never made it past first rehearsal or the bad choices I made for myself because of hanging around karaoke bars. The many many bad choices I made because of the people I hung around with in karaoke bars.  Bloody hell, there's about ten years of my relationships that started and ended brutally in karaoke bars.

The thought flashed through my mind while I was singing the song loudly, about how age is just a number to some, and for others it's the biggest divide.

Here's the thing; right before I got the incredible urge to listen to this song, I had asked the universe for a sign. Can't tell you what about, just that I asked for a sign and this song was firmly stuck in my head for a bit forcing me to find it and listen.
The song did something else. It flashed in my mind a quote about a question that more then one of those relationship gurus have asked over the years. Can you live with the idea that you might never actually meet your soulmate and be okay with it?  My original thought was no, I can't. Which quickly faded as I thought about the lyrics I was belting out, and how the song flips from one character finding real honest love to the other having an obsessive love relationship. The kind that can leave you abused physically and emotionally. 

Crap. Back to soulmates.  Why does everything in my life come back to soulmates? Even when I just want to sing?  And with my mind flashing back to the topic of soulmates, how some say they are there just to help us learn karmic lessons and how some say they are rewards for those struggles that the karmic lessons teach us. And yet, how some say they are our mirror selves.

The song is only 4minutes and 30seconds long. That's a lot of weight to crash down in such a short few minutes. 

Did I find the sign I was looking for before listening to the song?  If I did, I wasn't smart enough to notice. But the song did remind me that fear can make us make choices that are bad for us; and make the wrong choices that spiral out of control. I need reminding sometimes that every choice we make, affects not just us, but others as well.

Oh, and during that 4minutes and 30seconds I was lost in the song, my right side itched madly. First time in a really long time it would seem that Mr. Scratchy was thinking of me.  See, and there's the topic of soulmates again.

Thursday, May 14, 2015

Dirty Laundry 51

I got a message from my cousin Walsh bit ago. "You're giving up?"  I had no idea what the hell he was talking about, and pretty much figured it was meant for someone else and he just had one of those days.  Then a second message came in. "You undead? hahaha."   yeah that one was meant for me, anyone else he would have asked if they were alive, like a normal person.

Me-:"What do you want?"

Walsh-:"You were not at the cafe on Monday. I was there and you weren't. Though you liked it?"

Me-:"Did. And doesn't matter."

Walsh-:"You home?"


He banged on my living room window about an hour ago, scaring the hell out of me. I let him into the building, thinking I didn't want to see anyone.

"You're not giving up are you?"

Me-:"Maybe for now. Why?" I was still in my pajamas, am still as I write this. Okay, haven't gotten out of them in a few days but who cares right?

Walsh-:"You shouldn't give up. I think you need to do this, continue with the readings."

Me-:"I don't want to. I don't want to do much of anything right now."  I ended up sitting here listening to him lecture me on being a quitter. Fun times. He picked up a book I'm reading on the history of voodoo, flipping through it laughing. Jerk.  Told me he read the latest on the fairy tale, asked why I did it that way? Then was going on about wrestling, which I think I grunted.  Seriously, I just wanted to punch him. "Haven't watched it in like two weeks."

He laughed, not believing me. Understandable. He asked me something that I couldn't answer from one of the episodes, which then got a look of realization from him. I think I just broke my cousin's heart.  He left had to get back to work, and I sat down to write. Ended up staring at a flashing cursor for a bit, my muse it seems gone and writers block starting again. So, I ended up posting this. Which of course, I would have anyway. Good thing I believe that everything is copy, or I'd never have anything to write about anymore.

Dude, my muse is gone. At lest it feels that way.

Tuesday, May 12, 2015

Dirty Laundry 50

My ribs have been killing me all day. Spasms, which if I didn't know better, I'd say it was as if someone punched me. But, I do know better. Chalk it up to those ghost pains again.

Who needs the television when your neighbours who share a kitchen wall spend the whole day straight screaming at each other. In something that's not English.  And why is it, whenever I'm trying to read/write/do a ritual when I need quiet, the neighbours decide to gather in the hallway right in front of my door and party?  I think it might be time to make a batch of hot foot powder or something. Toss hot oil and cauldron drippings at them...if I had a cauldron. Never really fell into that trapping. But my level of witchdom is another story for another time.

I had this interesting conversation the other day with an acquaintance, about fitting in. I'd like to say friend, but I haven't gotten that close to anyone in the last few years to be honest...anyways, we were talking about how fitting in can be tough. Finding your place, your tribe so to speak. It's something too that's been on my mind for weeks. Though she...this new semi-friend I've met in the last few weeks since doing tarot readings, she's the one who brought the topic up. And here's me, running with it.
All I know is that I'm exhausted by the whole thing. There was a time in my life, none of that mattered to me. Didn't give a flying rat's abdomen what anyone thought of me. Now, it's all I think about.
Fitting in. Finding that group of whomever that is on the same wavelength as me. Wavelength. That used to be a drink like 20 years ago. Iced tea if I remember correctly...anyways, at my grand old age of 41, I should not still be feeling out of place or disjointed. I should firmly be where I'm suppose to be with the people I'm suppose to be with. Only I'm not. I am still feeling like some lost puppy wandering in the woods during first snow. You know what I mean?
My plan had been high school-college-meet the man of my dreams get married-move to Edmonton-become a publishing powerhouse-open an art gallery-and be the couple that everyone around us dreamed of being.  So much for plans. The universe totally had other ideas for me. Got the high school then college part done super easy. Fast forward 20 years and well, you know the score.
Sitting here, with nothing but my blog for company.

But back to the emotional exhaustion. The video project was a failure. I'm tired of trying to meet people in the pagan/witch community. I've mentioned on here how clique-y it is. All I've accomplished on there is to feel fake and like I'm pandering to douchebags. That's not me, and I hate myself for it. I keep asking myself why it matters that those people accept me? Don't have a good reason, so time to move on from them.
The tarot readings...great idea, bad location. I've pretty much decided that if I am going to continue doing them, I need to not do them at the cafe anymore. Makes me feel like I'm whoring myself out. There's a scary thought. But I don't have a better way to describe it. Sorry.  Actually, not sorry. That's another thing, I'm sick of making myself sound like I'm less than.  Tired of bowing down because I don't look like some supermodel.  I've embraced my bride of Frankenstein-ness, but you know what, even the bride of Frankenstein was desired by both the creature and the! 

There's a whole other topic for like an essay length post for another time. The bride of Frankenstein.

Wednesday, May 6, 2015

Dirty Laundry 49

Mr. Freeze finally said hi.

I was stunned. His voice didn't match him. It was a bit on the high-nasal side. Not at all what I was expecting him to sound like.

Anyways, so I've been doing tarot readings for the last few weeks. And have gotten my first repeat client. Which, is cool, don't get me wrong, but bit unnerving as well.
This guy came in last Friday for a reading. And again on Monday. And said he'd see me again at the end of the week.

Here's the thing. He's looking for me to give him a different reading. To tell him that everything is going to work out in his favour. Only, I can't tell him that.  He's stuck his head in the sand and refusing to deal with the situation he's in. Until he either makes a decision to deal with it, or learns a lesson from the situation at hand; his reading will be the same. Every time. He even picked the same handful of cards.
Which happens, when someone hasn't faced their fears/doubts/learned anything.

You get haunted by a card or group of cards. And I know that all too well.

I've seen this sort of thing happen to others over the years. They end up with a client who is so afraid to make a choice in their life, that not only do they become addicted to the readings, but they become addicted to the one doing the reading to the point they can't make up their minds what to have for lunch without consulting them.

Some of those types don't need a tarot reading, they need an hour with a counselor.