Writers Cafe

I recently joined a new writer's site and I love it. It's Writers Cafe and you can find my profile here. It is a wonderful site for writers where you can post your writing, get it reviewed, review others' writing, enter contests, create contests, all kinds of fun stuff. I'm addicted to this site now. If you're a writer, you should check it out!

Broken Bonds, Shattered Heart

Sisters, soul mates
Two halves of
The same whole.

Or so I thought.

Our friendship was strong,
Our love spanning lifetimes
Unconditional in its giving.

Or so I believed.

Closer to you
Than anyone else
Ever.

And then you turned away,

Leaving me without
A word of explanation
Without understanding.

And my broken heart shattered.

Confused and hurt
I wonder why
You couldn’t accept me,

Just as I am.

Oh Sally!

I signed into my blogger account cuz I had something to say, but then forget what it was two seconds after I thought of it. Damn it. That happens to me all the time.


Nothing much has been going on. Life has settled down after the flurry of religious activity preparing for the Drunken Midget's baptism/communion. They are on Spring Break starting tomorrow, so that will be fun to try and keep them from killing each other while they are home bored all day.


I'm also on break now, so no more classes for me for a week and a half. Yay!

I am feeling very tense and agitated for some reason. There's nothing more than the usual stress going on, and I'm finished with finals, so I'm not sure what that's all about.

In other news, I found this really cool website for writers called WritersCafe.org and I'm loving it. It's a great social network for writers where you can publish your writing and have it reviewed, enter contests, join groups, review other people's writing etc., etc. It's a great site, I'm glad I found it.

I'm currently reading A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius by Dave Eggers, and it is so good. He has a very dark, tragic kind of humor, which I love. He is an amazing writer.

I'd write my memoirs, but I think you kinda need a life to be able to do that. Something I'm apparently lacking at this point in time. But that's okay. I'm content with being a hermit. I just have such severe social anxiety it is difficult for me to meet new people even when I can overcome the Agoraphobia and get out of the house. Which isn't that often, unless I have to go to school or something.

K, well my gf is on the phone, so I'm gonna go.

Laters!

Happy Easter!

The Drunken Midgets were baptized and confirmed last night. Even though I am not Catholic, I am very happy for them and very proud. Though, they were baptized at the Easter Vigil mass which just happened to run near to three hours. Leave it to the Catholics with their never ending massess. It was a beatiful mass though. Everyone was given a candle and the first part of the mass was said in candle light. Too bad it wasn't said in Latin. I've always wanted to go to a Latin mass for some reason.

But, needless to say, with all the sitting and standing (thank Goddess there was no kneeling) and the uncomfortable chairs I felt as though I had been run over by a truck last night. And that was the fun part, cuz today I'm not only in even more pain but also stiff as hell. I'm going to have to do a few yoga poses and stretch things out a bit. If I can even get into the positions, I'm pretty damn sore.

I might start going to a few masses with my mom and kids. Even though I am not Catholic, and don't have any plans to be, I do think that it all comes from the same God/dess, and there are no Pagan churches or Covens near me. My faith is currently on life support and not doing well, so a little dose of spirituality can't hurt.

I aslo somehow need to find a way to set up my altar somewhere in my room. I gave the Drunken Midgets the bigger room, and now I don't know how I'm going to fit my altar in mine. There are some spells I'd like to do, the first one being a money spell, and all my Witchy cupplies are packed up in my steamer trunk, which is what I use as an altar, with nowhere to put any of it. I've got some pretty cool Witchy stuff too. I like to get most of my stuff at Magus in Minneapolis. I don't go there often though as I can never seem to get out of there with less than $100 worth of stuff. They have some really amazing stuff, and a lot of the herbs I need that I can't find at the grocery store like Wormwood and Mugwort.

I bought a pretty cool athamae there too. I love that store, but haven't been there in over two years cuz like I said, it's an expensive trip for me and money has been extra tight lately.

There's another pretty amazing store in the Eden Prairie Center, and I can't recall the name of it, Healing Moments, or something. They also have a nice supply of Witchy items and some beautiful jewelry. It is also a very dangerous store for me. That's where I bought my Tibetan prayer beads, which I actually got a pretty good deal on.

I wish I knew the insence mixture they used at church last night, that smelled really good. I like to make my own incenses and then mix them with sawdust and burn them. I have a study incense, which opens up the memory receptors and helps you retain information. It smells really good. I'll have to post the recipe sometime. It's all just herbs you probably have lying around your house. Getting a hold of sawdust might be a bit challenging though. Luckily for me, my dad works at a cabinet making company so I can get plenty of that!

Oh, and if you want to banish negativity from your house, just burn basil throughout the house, then sprinkle some in every corner of every room to keep it away. Repeat this every few months and it will help keep negativity at bay. I need to do a full cleansing of my house with a mixture of Sage, Rosemary, and Thyme. That is a powerful cleansing incesnse that also smells pretty good. Then I need to trace protective runes over my door and windows. I haven't done that since I moved in.

I should do that 'Change Your Luck' Nutmeg Bath again. I could use a change to some better luck. That's a pretty good spell.

K, well, I'm off.

Laters!

Beautiful

Beauty is not a fad
Nor dictated by runway models
In desperate need of a cheeseburger.
Beauty is in these eyes
That have seen so much
Each wrinkle that tells
Its own tale, beauty is in
This soul that radiates
Wisdom and peace.
Beauty is in the moment
She finds to pause in her chores
And have a smoke.

Beauty is not a fad,
Nor dictated by shiny
Fashion magazines with their
Anorexic waifs staring at the camera
With dead eyes.
Beauty is this woman,
Dark skin, sparse white hair,
Blemishes and all.
Can you read between the lines,
See the glorious splendor etched
Into every crease of her face?
Can you see the wonder of her soul?

'Beautiful' Copyright Patricia Schoenberger 2008, all rights reserved worldwide.

Asylum: Part Two

Here is part two of the short story I started yesterday. It is a very rough draft and I'll probably edit it some and repost it on another blog, but this is how it stands for now.

Suddenly she started throwing her malnourished body around her room, kicking and emitting a high pitched wail that tore its way through his very soul. It was a desperate, plaintive howl of utter misery and frustration, one he never imagined a human could make.

Three nurses rushed down the hallway, shoving him out of the way to unlock her door. It took all three of them to hold her down her flailing body. One of the doctors he had not met before came in, administering an injection that did nothing to calm her, instead incensed her more and the wail erupted into a piercing scream that should have shattered glass for miles around.

Ben dropped the charts he was holding and put his hands over his ears, he thought his eardrums would explode and bleed if she did not stop that awful screaming. The nurses were shouting at each other, the doctor issuing orders through the pandemonium and an intern burst through the door with another syringe. The doctor stuck her in the leg with it and within a few seconds she went limp, muttering softly.

“But words will never hurt me…”

“What did you give her?” Ben inquired of the doctor who was now scribbling furiously in her chart.

“Morphine. It’s the only thing that works when she has an episode.”

“Does she have those often?” Ben asked, still shaken by her inhuman wailing.

“It varies. Sometimes three or four times a week, but then sometimes she’ll go a couple weeks without one.”

“Have you determined what triggers these episodes?”

The doctor sighed impatiently. “Are you a doctor?”

“No sir, I’m a med student. I was just curious.”

“Well, we all know what they say about curiosity. I suggest you leave this one to the doctors.”

The doctor’s pager screeched, calling him to another patient. After he left Ben stayed behind to watch her. Even in her sleep she muttered that rhyme, tossing and thrashing around as though trying to escape an invisible assailant.

He felt pity for her, but beyond that he was consumed by a deep compassion and a yearning to ease her suffering. For the next six weeks of his rotation he obtained permission to sit in her room as he ate his lunch, talking to her and keeping her company, though she showed no sign that she even noticed his presence.

Three times she had an episode when he was there and he had to cut his visit short. Those days he felt incomplete, disappointed that he was not able to spend the full hour with her. He enjoyed their visits, despite their one-sidedness, and spoke to her about his hopes, his dreams, his fears, anything that came to his mind, many things he had never and would never tell another living soul.

He began to fantasize about what it would have been like had he met her before she ended up here. Would he have been able to save her from this fate, been a force of good in her life that would have kept her from this deplorable life? Maybe it was just the would-be doctor in him desiring to play god, nay, to be god, but somehow he felt that he could have prevented her fate had he been able to intervene long ago.

Maybe they would have fallen in love, married and had several children. Maybe she could have lived a happy life, free from the insanity that now riddled her mind. But, all the maybes in the world would not change the present, and as much as he hated to admit it, he was not god and could do nothing for this poor soul. Nothing other than share his time with her for an hour a day, hoping that at some level she would know that someone out there cared.

His rotation passed quickly and with a profound sadness and nagging feeling of regret he said good-bye to her during their last lunch. He told her he would not be coming back, but that he would always remember her and pray for a miracle. He patted her on the shoulder, and with one last lingering wistful look her turned and left the room, shutting the metal door behind him with a loud bang.

She started to speak, but instead of her usual rhyme she stammered and stuttered, trying to force the unfamiliar words from her mouth.

“G-G-G-Good…bye…B-B-Ben”

'Asylum' Copyright Patricia Schoenberger 2008, all rights reserved worldwide.

Asylum: Part One

Here is a not so short story I wrote that I broke into two parts. Here is the first part:

“Sticks and stones

May break my bones

But words will

Never hurt me. “

She repeated the childhood rhyme over and over as she sat huddled in the corner of the green padded room in the Psych Ward at the state run mental asylum. She grasped her knees in her arms and rocked back and forth as she repeated the rhyme breathlessly again and again like a Tibetan mantra.

Her hair was knotted and greasy, hanging in her face listlessly, hiding those strange grey eyes that were filled with pain, raw and raging, intermixed with the madness that was slowly consuming her mind.

The medical student, Ben, looked through the tiny window into her room, more adequately described as a cell. Her own personal prison they trapped her in for her safety. Ben noticed that she was strapped in a straightjacket. He asked the resident doctor about that.

“If we free her she claws at her flesh and her eyes, trying to gouge them out with her own fingernails.”

This was Ben’s first day on his psych rotation and he was disturbed yet strangely fascinated by this woman.

“What meds is she taking? Surely there must be something that can calm her enough to remove the restraints.”

Dr. White glanced at her chart. “She’s taking Valium, Lorazepam, Clonazepam, and Nembutal. This is as calm as we can get her.”

“I can’t believe she’s still coherent with all that in her system.”

“If you can call this coherent. Not much of a life if you ask me.”

They moved on to other patients, but throughout the day she remained on his mind, creeping and crawling around in his brain like so many thousands of tiny bugs. He walked past her room often, casting quick glances inside to find her in the same position, still repeating those same words over and over.

He unofficially peeked into her chart, horrified by the abuse that she had suffered, the so called life with which the fates had cursed her. Her mother died when she was two, which left her in the care of her drug addicted father who tortured her and abused her sexually. When he wasn’t raping her he drugged her up and shared her with his friends. She was removed from the home at age ten and put into foster care where she was gang raped repeatedly by her foster brothers.

She was first checked into the hospital at age 16 after she sliced up her wrists. From there her mental state deteriorated rapidly until she was committed by the state to this hospital.

He was shocked to discover that she was 28 and had been here over ten years, showing no improvement whatsoever. The doctors had given up on her and their goal was to keep her as medicated as possible to prevent her from hurting herself. They held out no hope that she would improve, ever.

He stood outside her door, watching her as she mindlessly chanted the childhood rhyme. He wondered what was going on in her mind, if anything. Was she trapped inside her insanity, frustratingly aware of her inability to communicate with the outside world, or had she been lost forever, never to be found again?

'Asylum' Copyright Patricia Schoenberger 2008, all rights reserved worldwide.

God Damn It

I am alternating between being enraged and heartbroken. Last night I cried myself to sleep cuz the Drunken Midgets absolutely trashed the house again after I spent all day cleaning it on Friday. There are dishes and clothes everywhere not to mention papers from school, art supplies, shoes, I could go on forever. I can't do this anymore. I can't be the sole one responsible for keeping this house clean when these Drunken Midgets are such slobs and don't lift a finger to help. When I woke up and saw their chores weren't done, after I told them they HAD to be done cuz the cleaning lady is coming bright and early this morning, and I told them, with tears in my eyes, how overwhelmed I am with the mess, but they don't give a fuck.

So, I've decided they can either get up at 6 and do their damn chores or they can take the bus to school. They hate taking the bus, but I hate constantly following them around and cleaning. How ungrateful are they that they expect me to bend over backwards for them and do all that they ask and they can't even pick up after themselves? I am so pissed and so discouraged about it all, I just want to take away everthing they own but for a bed, three changes of clothes, a pillow and a blanket. I'd like to see them make a mess then. Oh, and I'd have to give them each one set of dishes that they had to clean themselves everytime they need to use it cuz every dish I own is dirty and gross and scattered all over my house.

Have I mentioned how pissed I am? I have half a mind to go wake them up now, but that wouldn't do anybody any good. I need to cool down first. Ungrateful little urchins. There was another word I wanted to use, but I won't cuz I do love them even though they piss me off to no end.

So, I woke up in a pissy ass mood, in case you can't tell.

I just want to cry. Then break something.

In other news, I have no other news, I'm too pissed.

Crazy Bitch

I'm almost up to my 300th post!

No matter how much I write, the writer in me is just not satisfied, I always want to write more. It was the same way when I used to draw. I loved drawing, especially with ink or charcoal and chalk. I saved some of my art from when I was younger and was thinking about framing it. Hell, now that I have a scanner, I can scan some of the smaller pieces and show them on my blog. I haven't drawn since high school though. I'd like to pick it up again, and maybe I will one of these days. I'm sure I'm pretty rusty though. I used to be pretty damn good though, and always impressed my art teachers.

In other news, I've only written a few pieces this week, and they were scribbled out in like ten minutes, so they aren't my best work. But, I still feel like posting something, so I'm going to post a couple short poems I wrote a while ago.

Dreams Unfulfilled
It’s survival of the richest
when every door closes
leaving no way of escape
because hope is a commodity on the NASDAQ.

For what hope is there
when dollar signs rule
dreams fulfilled come with a mortgage
and you don’t pass the credit check?

What hope is to be found
in a humiliating quagmire of dependence
where the shackles of poverty enslave
and steal every choice away?

What hope for the oppressed
when the grinning, greedy, drooling monsters
killing for power, profit, oil and conquest
determine reality for us all?

Why bother to hope
when every effort is lost
in a sea of helpless destitution
that drowns every dream?

There's no way out
when you can’t afford the power
that only money can buy
and each day is a struggle just to survive.

'Dreams Unfulfilled' Copyright Patricia Schoenberger 2004, all rights reserved worldwide.

And I kinda like this one too...

Darkness in Me

Darkness inside of me
Sin and iniquity replete
Demons within
Snarling, vicious
Insatiable hunger
Feasting on my soul
Devouring all that is good
Leaving behind nothing
But evil, foul and deep,
Rancid wickedness
That cannot be tamed
Or contained.
Mad with blood lust
Starving, ravenous
Feasting on flesh
Sucking the marrow
From the bones.
At last satisfied,
Satiated,
At least for now,
The darkness abates,
The demons slink back
Inside, to hide
From the light of day
And the persona
I wear today.

'Darkness in Me' Copyright Patricia Schoenberger 2008, all rights reserved worldwide.

Manic, Buffy, and the Friday 5

I'm feeling a bit manic this morning, like I'm on top of the world, but not like Leonardo DiCaprio (or however you spell his name) in Titanic, cuz he just bugs me. For the first time in days and days I woke up feeling wide awake and ready to face the day. That usually only happens when I'm manic. Most days I just want to crawl back under the covers and hide from wretched reality. But, I'm only mildly manic as I did manage to sleep almost six hours last night. Of course, I fell asleep at 8 so that had me up at 2:00, but I'll take what I can get.

Okay, I am so very excited, cuz I get to watch Buffy today!!! I haven't been able to watch her in what seems like years cuz of the whole cable situation. I adore Buffy and I've missed her so! I know, I'm a geek and totally okay with that. I've been happy to be able to watch Angel and Charmed again too, but they just aren't Buffy!

So, that's what I'll be doing in an hour and a half. Hehe

In other news, the youngest Drunken Midget had a sleepover last night, so I didn't hear from her all night until 11:00 when she came in and asked me to make them go to bed. I guess she was tired but didn't want to admit it to her friend, so she made me do her dirty work. lol

She cracks me up.

Haven't been writing much lately. I wrote a couple of poems this last week, but that's it. Not my usual output of three poems and/or shorts a day, but I guess it's better than nothing. Thank Goddess for the proliferation of writing prompt sites, cuz they go a long way in stirring my creativity. Though, the words for this weeks Friday 5 @ Poefusion were tricky, but here is what I wrote using these words:

sylph
rabble
fizzy
suasion
freckled

Shoe Shine Girl

Sensuous, beautiful sylph

Voluptuous, graceful and lovely

A stunning ray of sunshine

Radiating from the rabble.

Kneeling before me

Shining shoes

Dirt smeared on her freckled face.

The swell of her ivory bosom,

Excites me.

Red ringlets falling across green eyes

So full of pain and suffering.

In her misery she is striking

She is exquisite in her woe.

Loneliness carves its presence

In the delicate lines of her face

In the shadows haunting her green eyes

Flecked with red and brown.

I long to pull her into my arms

Ease her pain, her misery.

Would it take much suasion

To convince the shadows

To stop haunting her eyes?

I open my Coke, it is fizzy

And bubbles over

I offer it to her, my heart

In my eyes, my longing

Plain for all to see.

She brushes her hand

Across her forehead

Smearing more dirt on her

Heart shaped face,

And smiles at me

As she accepts my gift

And I wonder,

My heart leaping at the possibility,

Is it a smile of invitation?

'Shoe Shine Girl' Copyright Patricia Schoenberger 2008, all rights reserved worldwide.

Rage Against the Machine

Somebody just shoot me now and put me out of my misery. I threw my back out doing the Drunken Midget's chores, and the cleaning lady is coming today, and so I have to suck it up and pick up through the excruciating pain. I told the DM's today that if they don't start doing their chores I'm not driving them to school anymore. They don't do a damn thing around the house, other than to mess it up, but they still expect me to do everything for them and bend over backwards for them. I am so DONE!!

And, technology has now given the Drunken Midgets the opportunity to fight when they aren't even together. They were fighting through txt messages last night for like 2 hours, and the youngest kept telling me to do something about her sister, even though she was the one being unreasonable and her sister wasn't even fucking with us! Do you know what they were fighting over? Fucking paper.

The eldest had taken a stack of loose leaf paper, which appparently belonged to the youngest, and so she freaked out. I told her I'd buy more paper, but she wanted that paper. New paper wouldn't do. And the eldest kept telling the youngest she was a brat and she was going to scribble all over her paper just to piss her off, and it was this big fucking mess. Over paper.

And people wonder why I'm fucking insane. This is what I have to deal with on a daily basis.

So, there is the nasty mess I have to clean on a daily basis, then all this fighting, money stresses, and school, and bill collectors that are now calling my parents, which is pissing them off, and my computer that is so fucked up as to be nearly worthless, I could go on and on forever. I think I should get a lot of Karmic credit for not killing people who desperately deserve to die. I mean, come on, can't you think of one or two people the Universe would be much better without? Wouldn't I be doing the Universe a huge favor if I started taking out those that are a blight on this planet?

Can ya tell I'm crabby today? Hehe

But, aside from the crabbiness, I think my theory still makes sense.

Have I mentioned lately that I hate bill collectors? They have to be some of the most ruthless, slimy, rude, inconsiderate, and just plain mean people on the face of the planet. I hate them all and I hope they all go to an island for a convention and somebody blows up the damn island. If I had the damn money, I'd gladly give it to them, but I don't have it so leave me and my family the fuck alone. I'll pay you when I can!

Yes, I'm hostile today. Is the rage just radiating from your computer or what?

And the worst part is that I'm so stressed, and so tired, and in so much pain, I can't write and haven't been able to for a few days now. I can handle almost anything else, but writer's block I can't deal with. Writing is like air, if I don't do it I will die. Although, today that doesn't seem like such a bad alternative considering all the shit I'm dealing with.

Arrgh!

And since I'm on a roll, I'm going to take a moment to bitch yet again about the damn parents in Eden Prairie that think they are so much damn better than everyone else. There is this sign right under the stop sign at the exit to the school that says in big letters 'RIGHT TURN ONLY ON SCHOOL DAYS.' Now, it says that cuz traffic is so bad that if you try to turn left, cars line up back into the parking lot and it takes ten years to get out. If everyone turned right, the line would flow smoothly and we'd all be able to get on with our damn day. But no, half the parents think they are more important and the sign doesn't apply to them, so they wait and wait and wait and wait to take a left turn and it backs up traffic, adding an extra ten minutes onto my wait time, and it pisses me off every day.

Phew! That was a lot of bitching. But I feel better now. Thanks for reading!

Laters!

my chemical romance - mama

I love this song! I tried to post a Pink song and that didn't work, so let's see if this one does...

P!nk/Pink: Don't Let Me Get Me Full Length Music Video

This is so my song, cuz I am truly my own worst enemy!! And, if it were not for the fact that I'm a Leo and I really love myself a lot, I'd want to be somebody else too, cuz some days I just can't stand myself. I love Pink!!

P!nk/Pink: Don't Let Me Get Me Full Length Music Video

This is so my song, cuz I am truly my own worst enemy!! And, if it were not for the fact that I'm a Leo and I really love myself a lot, I'd want to be somebody else too, cuz some days I just can't stand myself. I love Pink!!

Follow the Yellow Brick Road... to HELL!

Well, I had a very good weekend. It was nice to have a life for a night and actually go out, though we didn't win any money at the casino. But, the hotel room was nice and I had fun playing blackjack. I won a bit, then lost it all so that kind of sucked, but it was wonderful to be out and around people, though there wasn't much eye candy. One dealer was really hot and if we were thinner and younger, and she wasn't married, my gf and I may have had to throw down over him. He was like a beautifully wrapped gift to the Universe he was so hot.

Mmmm... nummmy...

Anyhow...

You think you're going to take her away, with your money and your cocaine...

Sorry, a bit of Tom Petty slipped out there.

I have to wake up my youngest in twenty minutes, and I so don't want to start my day. I have a lot to do today and I don't want to do any of it. Though, a friend is stopping by later so that will make all the cleaning worth it. The eldest did the kitchen halfway, but the youngest didn't do her chores in the living room, which is utterly trashed right now. Damn it.

I'm so sick of cleaning up after these kids, it almost makes me want to cry.

K, well, Angel is on, so I'm outta here.

Laters!

Fun Tests

Your Seduction Style: Sex Pot

Tradionally known as a "siren", "rake", or "femme fatale." You exude sensuality. And while your sexiness is part of what makes you an incredible seducer... Your ability to make others feel sexy is what really makes your seduction skills shine. Most people don't feel attractive or desired enough - a need which you tap into. You have the ultimate sex appeal, and getting attention from you is a total self esteem boost. Your confidence is contagious, and you help others unleash their own sexuality. Your sex pot seduction skills are so intoxicating that you can get away with... well, almost murder. Lovers feel like your sensuality is in your blood, so it's only natural if you flirt a little. And if you stray, that might be okay as well - as long as you make your lover still feel hot.

a href="What Kind of Seducer Are You?

And, not everyone knows this...

You Are Bisexual

Girls or guys? You'll take either. Or both. You can't make up your mind. And why should you?

What's Your Sexual Orientation?

Feedback Puleeze!

P.S. I've been thinking about getting a Mohawk or dying my hair purple. What do you think? The Drunken Midgets have forbidden me to get a Mohawk but say it's okay to dye my hair purple, so I'm thinking about going with the Mohawk! Hehe

Education is the Cornerstone of Buffer Society

My Drunken Midgets are so sick and twisted, just like me. The youngest cleaned out the car the other day, and when she goes to show me the trunk she was all, "Look, you can fit not one, but two bodies in here it's so clean!" She's definitely my child! Hehe

In other news I haven't written a damn thing today and I'm going through creative withdrawals. I feel lost and incomplete. Well, more so than usual anyway. I just don't know what to write and can't find any good writing prompts.

I've been toying with the idea of having my own writing prompt blog and having three prompts a week. I don't know if anyone would participate, but it's worth a try. It would be fun, I think. I'd have a theme of the week. Then on Thursdays I'd do the Thursday Three, and maybe on Saturdays I would do one more prompt. I'm not sure. I'm just toying around with the idea.

OMFG! My last lighter just died and I have no matches. Damn it. I so don't want to go out again, for the third time today, to get one. I knew I should have stopped at the store on the way home from dropping the youngest at school, but I was too lazy. Damn it.

K, well, I'm on the phone now, so I'm outta here!

Laters!

You Have Got to be Kidding Me!

So, I get all ready to sit down and watch Angel, all excited cuz this is the first time I've been able to watch it in ages, and wouldn't you know, the cable is out!! That is just so my luck!!

Celebrate!!!!

I have cable again!!! You have no idea how excited I am about this! I haven't had cable for the last month or two, which meant no tv for me as I can't get reception without cable, and it has been awful!! Now I can watch Charmed, Angel, Buffy, Law & Order, and ER again! Yay!! I am so happy, you just have no idea.

I know, I have no life. Having cable back again has been the highlight of my week so far. Though, on Saturday I get to go out, so Yay again!

In other news, that's all I had to say!

Laters!

Breathe Into Me (Reprise)

Beautiful corpse
Stunning in repose
Eternal sleep, darkness deep
And cold.
Breathe into me
Make me be
Bring me to life
With your warmth
Your love.

Beautiful corpse
Eternal sleep, darkness deep
And cold.
Arouse me from
My endless slumber
Breathe into me
Make me be
Something real

Beautiful corpse
Eternal sleep, darkness deep
And cold.
Dance with me
Awaken my soul
Breathe into me
Make me be
Something real.

Beautiful corpse
Stunning in repose
Eternal sleep, darkness deep
And cold.
Breathe into me
Make me feel
Bring me to life
Make me real.

'Breathe Into Me (Reprise)' Copyright Patricia Schoenberger 2008, all rights reserved worldwide.

Breathe Into Me

Beautiful corpse
Stunning in repose
Eternal sleep, darkness deep
And cold.
Breathe into me
Make me be
Bring me to life
With your warmth
Your love.
Eternal sleep, darkness deep
And cold
Awaken me
Arouse me from
My endless slumber
Breathe into me
Make me be
Something real.
Eternal sleep, darkness deep
And cold.
Dance with me
Reawaken my soul
Rekindle my spirit
Breathe into me
Make me be
Something real.
Beautiful corpse
Stunning in repose
Breathe into me
Make me feel
Bring me to life
Make me real.

'Breathe Into Me' Copyright Patricia Schoenberger 2008, all rights reserved worldwide.

He's a Professional Transvestite

I am feeling very restless and dissatsified with life this morning. Not even writing will soothe my frazzled nerves. You know I'm bad off when writing doesn't do anything to improve my mood. Not that I've tried all that hard. All two of my attempts to write were halfhearted at best, but I'm just not in the frame of mind to create, which is immensely frustrating since I long to create something beautiful and dark.

All the stresses and woes of life are really catching up with me today. I'm so tense and I can't relax my neck and shoulders. I really need a back rub or massage. Actually, what I really need is a night away from it all, which I'm going to have this weekend as my best gf is paying for us to get a hotel room in some casino for the night for her birthday. I am so very excited to get out, you have no idea. I can't wait for Saturday. It's been so damn long since I've been out, I think I may have forgotten how to have fun. Hopefully it will all come back to me once I'm out. Hehe

Although, as much as I'm looking forward to Saturday, I really need more than a night off, I need a vacation. Badly. I need at least a few days far away from here and all the shit in my life. I'd love to get away for a long weekend to Vegas or something. Too bad my best gf doesn't take seperate vacations with her husband, cuz we could go somewhere and do some damage for a long weekend.

I'm feeling rather blue today. Despondent, and hopeless. And a bit disoriented. Detached from my physical body. Surreal. I wish I had the movie Garden State to watch, but my best gf Dz borrowed it. I'm in the perfect mood to watch it today. I cry every time I watch that movie. Zach Braff is absolutely brilliant. He wrote, directed, and starred in that movie. It is an amazing movie. I'm sure I've gone on and on about it before though, so I'll stop now.

I also feel sick to my stomach and anxious.

Just thought I'd share.

In other news, I have no other news.

Laters!

Tweener: Part Two

Lunch went well. So well, in fact, that she invited him back to her apartment for several hours of fervent fucking. The sex was amazing with him, she had to admit. When they were in bed, something in him let loose, and a passion radiated from him, born of his joy at simply being with her. He brought her to a frenzy of ecstasy never before experienced. Too bad some of that passion didn’t carry over into the rest of their relationship.

Afterwards he watched her work on her mural, in awe of her beauty, grace, and unbridled talent. It aroused him to watch her paint, her brush strokes seductive, her body dancing with the burning need to express itself in her art. She was bewitching, beguiling and he was enchanted with her, cherished every moment with her, was completely and utterly captivated by her stunning exquisiteness. He loved her with a desperation he could not hide, made all the more intense by the knowledge that she did not love him, and she never would.

He knew that as certainly as he knew one day he would no longer walk this Earth. But he did not care, was infinitely blessed just to be able to share in her life, for however long she let him.

He watched her in silence, barely breathing for fear of disturbing her, and as she painted she lost herself in the act of it, forgot he was even there. When she painted she left this world, entered her own world where darkness reigned, the Moon bowed before her, and the planets and stars danced to music of her making.

Being in her presence as she created was intoxicating yet almost painfully devastating. Emotions, raw and primal, surged through her, exuding from her, intangible entities that momentarily took corporeal form and joined her in an exotic pantomime that touched him profoundly, nearly brought tears to his eyes. He was content to merely sit and watch her for hours on end.

Dusk was falling before she came out of her reverie, looking over at him and shaking her head with a puzzled look on her face as though she were trying to remember who he was.

“Have you been here this whole time?”

He laughed softly, not offended that she had forgotten him in her zeal. “Yes. You are amazing.” He stood up, walking over to her and putting his arms around her. She smelled of Estee Lauder Pleasures and fresh paint. He leaned his forehead against hers and looked into her green eyes, flecked with red and brown.

She smiled radiantly and leaned up to kiss him softly on the lips. He felt a stirring between his legs again. She drove him wild, like no other woman ever could.

Enveloped in his arms she felt safe, secure, at peace, and she wished she could love him. She tried to, cared for him deeply, but just could not fall in love with him. It made her sad in a way. He was a wonderful man, kind and sweet, yet she was not fated to fall in love with him in this lifetime. Maybe in another.

He wrapped his arms around her more tightly, wished he could absorb her into his very soul, become one with her, never to part. Her body fit perfectly into his, every nuance and curve. That they were meant for each other, of that he was sure, he just wished that it could be in this lifetime, and not one of the next. And though he knew he was destined to long for her love and never actually receive it, ‘the heart wants what it wants.’

'Tweener' Copyright Patricia Schoenberger 2008, all rights reserved worldwide.

Tweener: Part One

Okay, so I did post this on my writing blog, but not everyone here reads that one, and I like this story, so I'm posting it again. And, it is based on a truth, my uncle Kerry did coin the term 'Tweener.' Hope you enjoy....

Oh, and it was based on the Friday 5 on Poefusion, the words this week being:

string
mural
kempt
dilated
vinegar

Tweener

As she painted the mural on the wall she thought about tying a string around her finger so she would remember to call him. It seemed as though lately she was always forgetting to do that. Not that she didn’t want to talk to him, but he just wasn’t on her mind as much as he used to be.

She stepped back to view her work so far. The mural took up the entire east wall of her living room, a scene of a lake at twilight, when the last bit of lingering sun is purple in the sky and the stars are just starting to shine faintly. The full Moon reflected soft beams onto the lake, where a lonely loon sang its sorrowful song that echoed eerily over the water. Or so she imagined as her brush strokes recreated the scene so perfectly laid out in her memory.

The lake was Little Pine Lake, where her parents owned a kempt cabin and where she spent many a happy years as a child. In her mind the image dilated, expanding to encompass the entire lake, the entire town of Perham and memories cascaded into her mind, reminding her of more peaceful times.

The phone rang shrilly, rudely ejecting her from her mental meanderings. She glanced at the caller ID and rolled her eyes. He always complained that she never called him, yet he never gave her the chance, as he was calling her every couple hours.

Sudden irritation swelled within her. She snatched up the phone to answer it, a bit of vinegar in her voice; he knew she was painting this morning.

He responded to her barked ‘Hello!’ with a meek ‘I’m sorry to bother you. I just wanted to hear your voice.’

The hard edge in her voice softened some, and she apologized for snapping at him. He could be so sweet sometimes. She felt bad for being rude. He just irritated her so sometimes. He was too needy. Sometimes she felt as though he was a puppy following her around and pissing with excitement every time she offered him the slightest bit of affection.

She felt so bad she agreed to meet him for lunch, even though she had planned on painting until dinner time. He sounded so happy that she accepted his invitation that another flash of guilt surged through her. It wasn’t his fault he liked her more than she liked him. He was a decent enough guy, charming in his own way, but he was a bit too naïve for her, a little too innocent. She liked her men slightly dark, with a bit of mystery. She wanted to be seduced, not courted.

He was what her uncle Kerry would have called a ‘Tweener,’ someone with whom you occupy your time until someone you really wanted to be with came along. Maybe it wasn’t fair to him, but she had long since learned life wasn’t fair, and besides, who ever said it wasn’t okay to have a delicious little fling every now and again, with no attachments or sentimentality involved? She offered him no illusions as to how she felt. Did not make promises she could not keep.

More to come...

'Tweener' Copyright Patricia Schoenberger 2008, all rights reserved worldwide.

Karma and the Law of Three

There are two Universal Laws that fascinate me, the Law of Karma, and the Law of Three. Loosely translated, the Law of Karma states that what you put out into the Universe will come back to you, and that what we experience in past lifetimes will come back to haunt us in this lifetime whether it be good or bad. Past Karma therefore determines present events and actions made. The Law of Three takes that one step further and says that whatever you put out into the Universe will come back to you times three, whether it be good or bad.

So, when I do something negative to someone, they could possibly be incurring past Karma. But, my question is this, is there ever a time when you can inflict somebody’s past Karma on them, inflict righteous ‘punishment’ without incurring bad Karma on your part? I mean, the way I see it, if I have been hurt or harmed in some way, then later impose that same hurt or harm on a person who needs to learn a Karmic lesson, that should free me from the Law of Three. Because, face it, some people really deserve some shitty Karma, and who better to inflict it upon them than someone who has been hurt that way in the past? That seems to qualify a third Law: The Law of Universal Justice. Cuz, whether it be in this lifetime or one of the next, there will be Justice and it seems to me that Justice should entail some satisfaction of the part of the injured, which would be to inflict such action on someone else who desperately deserves it.

So, I think that, yes, sometimes you can be mean to someone and get away with it.

Hehehe