Religion (and, no, i have never done Acid!) i was 19 when i wrote this. before my drinking days.

go into the eye and enter the realm of the mind. in the mind you will find the Soul, a seed of the Cosmic Garden. it is hard to un-weave the soul from the mind on Earth, an inextricable pulse trying to exist between realms. this is the place where Religion is created within oneself...

Air Ripe for Fascism

"A lie told once remains a lie but a lie told a thousand times becomes the truth." Joseph Goebbels

this is what concerns me about the Trump phenomena and the recent term, "alternative facts".  Trump's campaign was run by stirring emotions of hate, bigotry, racism, fear, and scape-goating (Mexicans and Muslims). his policies are divisive, delusional, and sets citizen against citizen. While his core civilian supporters and voters are not the majority, they seem to always get out and vote, and always make the most noise. i am quite angry at my fellow democrats/liberals who didn't vote at all, or who voted third party this time. this was not the election to vote third or cast a protest vote. it was too close, too much was at risk. any progress that has been made for diversity and liberal ideals will be targeted. 
if you want progress, we liberal thinkers, whether Green Party, Democratic, Socialist, or other, need to unite to eliminate the stuck- in- the mud, anti-progress Conservative Republicans as they do not represent the majority of Americans in 2017. but at least we will see what happens in a wholly conservative, billionaire old, white male run government and hope we learn from it. but i am quite cynical about it. i have been deemed an "old soul." right now i feel it. i feel as if i am  living on the edge pre-Nazi Germany. PLEASE! WE MUST LEARN FROM THE PAST! READ! READ NOT JUST TO PASS TESTS, BUT TO FEED YOUR HEAD! 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rwQeKSlY56Q&feature=share 

In Trump We Trust

in less than 24 hours Donald J Trump will preside over The United States as the most powerful man in the world. he is unfit and it is frightening. i am getting tired of hearing "give him a chance" based on what?! based on the hateful, sexist, Islamophobic, narcissistic, immature, womanizing, selfish, greedy billionaire- who- never- had- to- work- a- day- in- his- life world-view and we've all heard him verbatim ... he has nothing in common with any American you or i know or will ever know.  As a woman i especially feel his election is a slap in the face for all the progress that has been made over a century. now we, women who care about what is going on, and about equality, and being valued as a HUMAN BEING, has to look up to a man who values women as objects, property, status....it's disgusting! As a working class woman, from a working class family, who never got any "trickle" from the trickle down, i am aware of the detrimental effects his presidency, not because of him himself; he is unprepared; he thinks it's going to be like being CEO of his Surname's company... he can't deal with any criticism about anything, especially about his appearance, and he is now the number 1 focus of the world and will be scrutinized for everything. 

NOT ONLY IS IT OUR RIGHT TO PROTEST, BUT OUR DUTY UNDER THIS CURRENT ATTEMPTED HIJACKING OF DEMOCRACY...THE FIRST THING A FASCIST DOES IS TO DISMANTLE THE PRESSES/MEDIA... OUR CONCERNS ARE DIFFERENT FROM WHEN THE REPUBLICANS WERE IMPEDING OBAMA; TRUMP'S AGENDA IS ACTUALLY DANGEROUS FOR AMERICA; IT IS BLATANT, UNFETTERED CAPITALISM STEAMROLLING OUR PROGRESS AS CITIZENS!

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gneBUA39mnI

Frankenstein

http://www.bartleby.com/144/"a well behaved woman" is a relative statement... do not confuse this with grace, class, femininity...those are all things that we need to embrace. it is when these attributes become something to demean us, to belittle us, or to wear away our rights and representation, that is when WE MISBEHAVE!

ORIGINS OF THE FEMINIST: The Divine Womb

The Goddess floated on a Sea of Darkness; the Eyes of our Great Mother, closed, imagining. Behind the meditative lids was a fiery whirlwind- arcane chaos, beautiful mystery! The limitless Mind imagined all potential existence. Behind the Eye of God was a symphony of raging energy- a sound like infinite, vibrating violin strings in a stormy ocean. Mother Universe cradles her womb, a pure, pulsing circle- circle- immortal, unending, no beginning, no end, secure, complete, inextricable. The omniscient, elliptical Eyes open gently releasing Illumination- a mere idea in our Great Mother’s Mind became our existence.

The Light caresses the invisible, strings spawning a tuned symphony, setting the curved womb of the Universe reverberating from within. From the Navel burgeons the Cosmic Tree. The branches delicately unfurl, caressing the bejeweled galaxies, setting them seductively swirling in the hallowed, illuminated Sea of God’s Imagination. The Tree’s veins circulate the symphonic, Illuminated Sea and from the branches drip delicate droplets, trembling with swirling universes within. (Breanne L. Buccos, 2011)

The Paleolithic Era

Thousands of years ago it was the Goddess that was worshiped  It was female energy that sustained the Earth and its inhabitants. Like the moon goes through cycles, so does Woman, which seems to connect her to the energy of the Earth and tides. All over the world, archaeologists have unearthed female figurines and carvings, such as these:


prehistoric petroglyph found in a Utah cave

Willendorf, Austria 30,000-25,000 B.C. Paleolithic

Aztec goddess



Prehistoric Nile Goddess

Isis giving birth

Indus Valley 3rd-2nd Millenium B.C

Dreamer of Malta 3000 BCE

Laussel, France 22,000-18,000 B.C.E.

Sheel na gig Celtic fertility goddess of death and rebirth 11th Century

Paleolithic carving seeming to represent the vuvla

Modern scholars believe these statues and images to be related to fertility rites sacred to men and women. Thousands of years ago, from the Paleolithic to the mysterious eras of Crete and Atlantis, women were revered for their life-giving powers-their vagina being "the portal through which a child enters the world" (E.O. James, religious historian, The Chalice and the Blade). It was believed that once a person dies they can return to life by being reborn through the vagina. Blood was a symbol of life, therefore the female's menstrual cycle was mysterious and sacred. Archaeologists have discovered ancient Cro-Magnon burial sites in France, where, around the skeletal remains, are cowrie shells covered in red ocher, a symbol of the vagina and menstrual blood, so the deceased could be revitalized by the woman's life giving blood.

Acts of sex and giving birth were sacred and revered until the men of the Catholic Church began writing history, saying that Eve was the one to blame and therefore her, and all women bore after her, are the carriers of the "original sin," and that she was the one to blame for the downfall of mankind, (1 Timothy 2: 14). Why was the Gospel of Mary buried? During the Council of Nicea it was decided which Biblical texts would be written as God's word and which would be banned. Why does the Catholic Church now deny that there was a female pope, Pope Joan? The Scotus' chronicle of the popes mention her,  " A.D. 854, Lotharii 14, Joanna, a woman, succeeded Leo, and reigned two years, five months and four days"  (The Woman's Encyclopedia of Myths and Secrets, Barbara G. Walker, p. 475).

cowrie shells, once used as currency and in burial rituals

Our ancient ancestors seemed to understand the sustaining connection of human life to Nature

around them. Many goddess symbols are of females surrounded by animals, water, and trees. Our ancient ancestors seemed to be conscious of the connection of all life, and from whose sex was divine,

As Riane Eisler writes in her book, many Paleolithic remains seem to suggest a female centered society- the many female figurines found on every continent, the red ocher found in burial sites and the vagina shaped cowrie shells. These early civilization gave birth, (no pun intended) to more complex , goddess religions, that are represented by powerful female deities such as Isis, Nut, Maat, Ishtar , the Shekina, Mother Mary and of course Mother Earth and Mother Nature.

It was not until Judeo-Christian religions that woman became the "weaker sex" the carrier of "the original sin"... the sex who was condemned by God and not God-like herself.  As St. Paul said Eve was the only guilty one, (1 Timothy 2:14). Early Christians destroyed Goddess centered temples and scriptures and deemed the early rituals as works of the devil. The Christian Church declared through Acts 19:27, that the Great Goddess " must be despised and her magnificence destroyed." Christians will defend this saying that it was because Jesus had come and made all other beliefs obsolete. But, could it also have just been a power thing? To gain more land and world influence over the Muslims and Jews of Asia? To keep women from owning land, earning their own money, and making their own decisions about who to procreate with and about giving birth or not and once giving birth, deciding how to raise the child? 

Haunting Spirits, Tormenting Spirits; Chapter 1

Abandoned old places can make people who enter feel unsettled, and believe it haunted. Spirits haunt houses, and cemeteries, not people. The most frightening thing is- spirits are vibrating energy, chaos, waiting for something to sup upon so as to create order for itself. They can, and will, inhabit empty, wandering souls of people who feel powerless, dismissed, and invisible.

The opera of the shrouded moon illuminates the quiet evening of sopping skies after a rainy day, and smoky auras that ballet among the people on the streets...  A young girl walks out of a palm reader's room, skeptical. she was told that there is a spirit around her that wants her to fail. 
"Nonsense."
Skeletons of buildings, looking sketched by a rueful hand while tears dripping onto the paper blurred the ebony ink, loom over her. Standing close together on the streets are the burnt, solemn- faced brick buildings trying to uphold each other through the times, staring agape with black tears smeared under hollowed eyes. 
She scurries off to her favorite place.
Spindly, bare trees in epic Shakespearean pose bow and sway as if under water. Among them, she dances an unknowingly seductive ballet. All around, leaves cascade like fairy rocking cradles. Gangly, gaping- mouthed black wreaths of vines and branches mournfully moan through the woods . She studies the trembling, delicate droplets, holding swirling universes within that gather on the budding branches... The wind, breathing out eternally, stirs the dead leaves that begin to sound like approaching footsteps. Feeling a little unnerved, she stops suddenly like a wide eyed rabbit. 
She spots an open grave. She kneels down and peers under the beams and wooden cover. She spends the next 15 minutes scooping away tumble weed-like things from falling into the open grave that seem to be propelled towards her by the wind- perhaps all the spirits flying around. 

The kitchen window yawns a cozy glow as she approaches the house. She is excited, happy, knowing that she is near her love. Her cat, Willow, greets her. She takes the light from the window, kneels down by the cabinet and lifts up the loose floor board as the lantern gently sways in her other hand, illuminating her treasure. Willow meows and nudges her knee. The cap glows in the darkness surrounding it. She cracks open the seal, puts the bottle to her lips as natural as a baby goes to its mother's breast, and feels calmness as the acrid elixir of Life slides into the little pool her tongue has created, an embrace; then her lips form a curtain over her teeth as they make a suckling sound as it slides down. The whiskey brings a soft blush to her cheeks. Her eyes begin to float on the placid, tingly sea of her mind. 

Willow nudges her hand, stirring her to pick up the bottle and drink more and ponder...staring... the dark house behind her lingering, looming, like a cloak of depression. 

She gets up; Willow leaps from the table fervently meowing and swirling round her shins, staring up at her human mother. 

she goes to the cupboard and takes the cat food and doles it out into Willow's dish. Willow dives in, purring and devouring the meat. 

Willow sits now, contently licking her paw and wiping it over her ears and face... 

"ohh,  mother dear, see here, see here, our mittens we have found!" and she goes to the floor and nuzzles her face into Willow who bats at her face and leaps away into the other room. 

"cheeky wee bitch!" the girl calls out, then laughs and drinks. 

Her work-soiled and scratched. yet delicate hands carefully take up her chipped tea cup with a broken handle that she has set aside for sentimental reasons; she endears things such as these; she keeps broken ships and dusty plates with chips; she does not sweep out corners because little spiders make their webs there...

She looks at the bouquet of dead roses hanging on her wall- their face once unfurled peachy and silky, now decrepit mummies trapped under a claw of dust. She smiles slightly at them, thinking them still beautiful, like old age; they bowed out gracefully like a stage actress at the conclusion of a drama.  She is haunting a place of a loved one she once knew. she reads through her journals she filled with her prose when she was alive. 

She sits with her hand on her prostrated forehead- as if checking for a fever- or a pulse of creativity- from where her words used to flow fluidly before  she met that specious, handsome devil that convinced her that she can't live without it... tells her that she is nothing without it, that she needs it to be strong and calm, makes her black and blue, and feel so abandoned, and then kisses her wounds, comforting her... sticks its tongue down her throat, sups on her sweetness, replenishing the void with bitterness, anger, and whispered philosophies of self-righteous indignation.  She hates it. She loves it. She never felt as powerful as she did in it gripping, comforting, warm, dysfunctional embrace.