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C & B

Mom. Who begat Me.

That’s pretty much the whole of the Biblical Begats for me and yes, my Family Tree is a ruler.

Twelve inch (30.8cm), with the curved bottom and the straight metal edge that left a slowly vanishing bolt when you got swatted flat on the palms for who knows what crime?


Across the knuckles.


That’s different.


I am trying to be nice. I am trying to be kind.


If I’d known I would have said something.

But you never said anything. So.


The steel leaves a welted stripe.
You’ll have to hide your hand.




You know you’re fucked when you open a new Word doc so

   You can greet the words muddling about in

Your head politely and


All the while


to reassure, to say

“It’s OK. You’re scared.

I’m scared too.”

                                                               and you

immediately format into

Ariel Narrow


    Because you see that everyday in docu

           ments that make your eyes tired and



Your words, from your brain, in an offline offtime hour

   You Formatted.


The words smirk and say




Here’s the OED’s definition of Reason.

Now then.

By all meanings of the logic of this definition there is absolutely no reason that I should have sought out this Artist last night, nor rediscovered this song.

Yet, I did.

And yes, I do believe Melanie C. has a beautiful voice.

Is it polished to the nth degree? Yes. Is it stand up and shiny for radio? Yes. But there are other videos wherein you can see her taking over the words, the song, even incrementally. Too many to post, and that isn’t my intention.

Do I believe she came into herself after The Spice Girls?


I have a hard time expressing certain things.

I can now be open about the fact that I am have been clinically diagnosed as Depressed. But not easily.

I can say “I was put on five drugs at once, and the only two commercial names I remember are Trazodone and Wellbutrin.” But not easily.

I can now be open about the fact that Coming Out as a Lesbian is 100,000 times easier than Coming Out as someone who has to deal with Mental Illness. (Bonus points for the anxiety!! Triple Score!)

The next big hurdle is Coming Out about the fact that yes, I do have sensual and sexual feelings. The Diana Krall post scared the hell out of me because I was actually admitting to the fact that I.


More than just in my fucked up head or in my not so fucked up heart.

And, really? Is it so bad to want to taken over, even for a little while? To get yourself out of your head and just feel, in a good way? To touch, kiss…


Maybe. So I’ve been told.

I don’t understand anything anymore.

Trouble is I’m a danger to myself.




“Many Bothans died to bring us this information.”

– Mon Mothma, Return of the Jedi


Oose is pronounced Oose, like Moose minus the M.

Oose Ty’kia was a Bothan. Not a real one (*snerk*), just one on a computer screen in an MMORPG game called “Star Wars Galaxies”. Which no longer exists.


I want to write about her. Have for a long time now. But every time I start to try, Words fail me. I’m afraid that if I speak about her, I’ll lose her. And I’m so tired of that.

I don’t know where I’m going with this. Other than to say…She’s me.






*fans self*

OK, so. I gave this particular thought 24 hours. Ish. Meaning I wanted to say this last night, but something stopped me. What? Who can say? So.

With regards to the voice of Diana Krall –

Her voice, to me, is the aural equivalent of having the finest sable fur brushed gently down the front of your naked torso while the lightest touch of a feather brushes up your spine.