Helloween 2021 Day 28: I Cancelled...

 

Image by Danilo Fernando Braga Geraldo from Pixabay

I have canceled

the fear of what you think

of what I may think

or what I may be

what you make of me

whether I am unsophisticated 

because I have never been to Paris

I have canceled

the fear of your judgment

of what I believe

or cannot believe

I believe in ghosts

or at least the possibility of

your opinions will no longer scare us

~ornery owl~

prompts

https://thesaxophoneplayerswife.com/

"I canceled..."

https://dversepoets.com/2021/10/26/dverse-poetics-halloweeny-humans/

Write a duodora about a human attribute that irritates you and put a Halloween spin on it. Snobbishness and closed-mindedness are two attributes that grind my gears. Ghosts are associated with Halloween.

https://earthweal.com/2021/10/25/earthweal-weekly-challenge-approaching-samhain/

General theme of Samhain and those who have departed the material world.

http://www.octpowrimo.com/2021/10/octpowrimo-day-29-paris.html

"What is Paris to you?"

In this case, it's a concept used to convey an idea or emotion.

https://reinventionsreena.wordpress.com/2021/10/28/reenas-xploration-challenge-205/

"Do I believe in ghosts?"

I believe in the possibility of ghosts, and I've seen some shit. 

I don't care if you believe in ghosts or not. I don't have any intention of arguing with anyone about it. I'm just tired of people with "my way or the highway" attitudes and closed minds.

~Ornery Owl Has Spooken~

Image by Nicole Dralle from Pixabay

The Icky, Sticky, Nit-Picky Legalese If You Please (Or Don't Please)

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I Refuse

Somewhere Out There Version 15

Photoshop manipulation by The Real Cie

I refuse

 To believe that you 

No longer exist at all

Even though that

Is the most sensible thing

To believe

According to those

Who pride themselves

In being very sensible

I believe

That something of you

Still exists

I'm not talking about

Some pithy platitude

Nothing like this

No annoying "humor me" sentiment

Like "he still exists as long as you

Hold him in your heart"

Which is the same as saying

Nothing is left

But you have fun with that, Honey

What I'm saying is there's something left

Some kind of energy

Something usually too subtle to perceive

Something real is there

Some part of you remains

I refuse to believe otherwise

I refuse to agree

With the sensible and the pithy

I will hold onto the outrageous

I believe

In you

And me

For Gem from Cie

and 

For Gerry from Pepper

Notes:

Once I got through running things through filters to achieve an abstract effect, the original images aren't easily recognizable. However, I wanted to give a shout-out to HDgreenstudio and Thalia Took, whose images played an essential role in the creation of this piece.

Spirits, both human and other, are generally subtle in their presentation. I have seen spirits, but it is rare to see what was referred to by The Real Ghostbusters as "a full-torso apparition." Spirits have a higher vibration than corporeal beings and are made of pure energy. It would be wonderful if communicating with them was as easy and direct as Hollywood makes it appear to be. Alas, it is seldom so.  

The Cheese Grates It: 30 Days of Haiga 2017 Day 28 + OctPoWriMo 2017 Day 11: Play For Me

Click to Enlarge

Verse and text by The Real Cie

Note:

This image features Malcolm Young doing what he did so well before dementia robbed him of his ability to remember how to do this or to remember who the people he cared about most were.

I hate this damn disease. It makes me sick, sad, and angry.

Even if it seems unrealistic, I have to believe that he either no longer functions through this body (his brother has stated that he isn't in there at all anymore, and I think few people would know better than one's soul mate) or one day he will wake up free of that body and remember everything.

I believe in at least the possibility of some pretty esoteric shit. You're free to believe it or not. It's really no skin off my nose either way.

This man did not deserve what is happening to him. It's horrible and it's wrong. To quote young Calvin of Calvin and Hobbes fame, "it's either mean or it's arbitrary, and either way, it gives me the creeps."

Isn't Calvin middle-aged now?

Even so, you know Hobbes is still with him.

In closing, fuck you Dementia. 

This is why horror movies don't scare me. Real life is far more terrifying.

I hope that we get at least a bit of respite between lives.

Yes, I actually do believe in at least the possibility of reincarnation. You're free to believe the same or not. I'm not here to argue. 

Quoth the barista: "I'm just here to express."

~The Cheese Hath Grated It~

Fallen

Image by Sarolta Ban

Once upon a dream

 An angel was sent to Earth

 She has lost her way

~Cie~

Prompt Used:

Imaginary Garden With Real Toads:

Where did I come from? 

NaPoWriMo:

See notes

Notes:

This Lune addresses the metaphysical theory that I may not just be trashed out mentally ill fuckup, I may be a fallen angel. I have been studying the Lost Books of the Bible and the works of Dr. Doreen Virtue, and what I am reading rings true for me. If it makes you feel better, you can file this theory under trashed out mentally ill fuckup and just appreciate the poem, or not. I don't really care, just don't be a dick about it.

The line "once upon a dream" was inspired by the line "once upon a December," which comes from a song in the animated movie "Anastasia." I would not have come up with this if it weren't for today's NaPoWriMo prompt, so although I didn't specifically follow their instructions, they did inspire me. 

 

OctPoWriMo 2015: Day 11: I Did It My Way

I Did It My Way

When they sneered at me

And what I believe

When they tried to force me to see things their way

I went ahead and did it my way

When they told me I was zany

Said that my thoughts were evil

That I wasn't fit to be among decent people

I kept on doing it my way

When they called me nefarious

Said that I was consorting with the devil

Just because I talk to ghosts

I still did it my way

Sometimes their words made me unhappy

Many times my heart was broken

But lying about my truth would bring no joy

So I always did it my way

Perhaps to those in the mainstream

My beliefs seem a little extreme

But I always try to be good and do right

At the heart of it all, that's my way

~Spectra~

Notes:

I'm Spectra, and I do Tarot readings and speak to those beyond the veil. I've always had psychic abilities. I grew up in a small town, and the rumors flew. I got tired of trying to convince closed-minded people that I wasn't Satan's sister, so I just let them talk. 

Eventually I moved away and didn't have to deal with them any more. Sadly, the world as a whole is rife with closed-minded attitudes.

It's hard to believe, but there are still plenty of people who think that "witch" equates with "devil worshiper." 

If anyone else has esoteric beliefs or simply an open mind and a desire to make the world a better place, you might be interested in Team Netherworld's Open Minded Search for Truth page.

Truth is not one size fits all. We are all walking our own path. The one thing we all must do, first and foremost, is harm none. That includes not spreading lies about those whose paths are different from our own.

Alone in a Private Hell

Image Source

Alone in a Private Hell

An amicable soul, in some ways childlike

Unadorned and understated, sometimes silly, never frivolous

In some ways always lonely and misunderstood

Now trapped within a mind like a house long abandoned

Where the light of love cannot touch the soul-crushing loneliness

~Cie~

Notes:

We are currently not participating in blog hops although we still like to use the writing prompts. 

I personally am not really up to doing much in the way of return visits, and it's kind of rude to ask people to visit me if I'm not going to visit them back.

I'm also not much up to having me or my work be scrutinized right now. 

I'm sick and tired of being the crazy person getting the conciliatory pat on the head. 

"There there, Crazy Cie. Isn't it nice that you express these feels of yours through your art? Aw, how broken you are. So glad I'm superior to you." 

I'm tired of having it be implied that the way I feel is somehow wrong or childish or sick and twisted. 

I'm tired of having it implied that there should be a time limit on my grief.

I'm tired of it being implied that my every thought is due to my fucking brain chemistry.

I'm tired of being told that I shouldn't express my heart because the soul is an outdated concept.

I once had a (sanctimonious) person ask why I publish what I write if I don't want to receive "constructive criticism" on it.

Well, I didn't publish it for you, Asshole.

I publish it on the off chance that there's someone out there who's like me; someone who's adrift in a sea of misunderstanding, who may really need to hear what I have to say, to know that they aren't the only lonely, misunderstood weirdo in the Universe.

That is who I do it for.

Then I do something else.

I read it aloud to the man in the picture above. 

I'm not in the room with him, so I'm not reading it where his physical ears can hear it. 

I read it to his soul.

Because he's lonely and afraid and doesn't know what's happened to him.

So I hope his soul can sense that someone cares about him, and maybe he'll be a little less afraid and sad.

I do this, and I believe it may help, because I choose to believe it does.

The end.

He would actually get this better than most people. 

Which is one of the big reasons why I've loved him for the past 38 years, and will for all time.

If I’m living on borrowed time, do you think I’m gonna waste my time conforming?

Current age: 62 and has no memories of his accomplishments or his family and friends.
Age at onset of dementia: 55 (and fuck you, Universe)

Lewy Body Dementia discovered post-suicide Age: 63

The Real Cie's aunt: probable Lewy Body Dementia, age of diagnosis: 72

Me: Age 49, will be 50 on February 15.

TRIGGER WARNING: DISCUSSION OF SUICIDE IDEATION

Here's what I'm noticing. This kind of shit seems to be happening in younger and younger people. I'm not a scientist. Nor am I particularly given to believing in conspiracy theories. The Illumin-Naughty seem as likely to exist as the Illuminati, as far as I'm concerned. But I do see a pattern.

I think our world is polluted as fuck, and it's killing us in various and horrible ways. I think all the people succumbing to these shitty forms of dementia have been poisoned by our toxic environment, and it isn't going to get any better anytime soon.

I evidently have a genetic trigger for this shit, and I have been thinking. I may be living on borrowed time. And if I am, I'm going to off myself when I get the diagnosis. I've taken care of people with dementia for all but five years since 1988. I am not putting myself or my son through that shit.

Given that there's a fair possibility that I'm living on borrowed time, do you know what the fuck I'm not going to do?

Care about a bunch of rules set down by a bunch of stodgy, imagination-impaired, heartless, inflexible assholes. 

Believe as I do. Don't believe as I do. I really don't care. But don't fucking tell me how to think and feel. I was never going to conform to your standards anyway. Given that I may only have five or ten years left, I'm going to conform to them even less.

I have an open mind about metaphysical possibilities. I'm not going to close my mind because my beliefs make some people uncomfortable.

I love what and who I love. If you have a problem with that, take a look in the damn mirror as you point your finger at me. Then take a look at the three fingers pointing back at you.

I'm actually not afraid of this possibility. I'm pretty stoic about it. I've had suicide ideation pretty much all my life. I'm not afraid to die. My life hasn't been an easy one. Sometimes I think the easiest thing in the world would be to down a whole bunch of pills with a butt ton of alcohol and just let the world fuck off at last. I'm sick and tired of hearing what a fuckup I am echoing in my damn head all the time.

I'm not doing it today. So don't get your hackles up searching my URL to try and find out where I'm located. This isn't a "right now" suicide note. This is a "if I'm diagnosed with dementia I'm offing myself" note. Because fuck that shit.

So anyway, if I believe in the possibility of ghosts and incarnate people communicating with each other and maybe even becoming friends or falling in love, who the fuck is anyone else to tell me I can't believe that? 

If I believe the personality survives the death of the body, who the fuck is anyone to tell me I can't believe that?

If I believe in an afterlife, but not an afterlife that adheres to some particular set of dogma created by a bunch of stodgy old fucks to control the masses, well, that is what I believe. If it brings you comfort to think of me frying in a fiery pit because of my beliefs, perhaps you're the sick fuck, not me. 

If I believe in reincarnation, how the fuck is that hurting you?

People are always so all-fired hot to tell other people what they should and shouldn't think and feel. I've had it up to here with that shit. None of us knows for sure what happens after we die. My theories are as valid as anyone else's. More to the point, I don't shove them down anybody's throat. 

I guess my point is this. I don't know if I'm living on borrowed time or not, but I damn well could be. Do you think I'm gonna waste that time trying to please anybody by conforming to their particular reality? I can't live your damn reality, nor do I want to. I can only live my own. 

Stop trying to tell other people what to believe, think and feel. As long as what you're doing isn't hurting anybody else, it's nobody's damn business.

One thing I aim to do. When I do get to the other side, whenever that is, I am going to give both of the dudes pictured a great big warm hug, because they both touched my life for the better and both pulled me through when I was a very sad, lonely, and bullied teenager. I wished both of them could be my friends.

I totally shipped "Mork" as my best platonic friend back in the day, and you will never guess which band was Mork's and my favorite. When you're a sad and miserable twelve or thirteen year old, that kind of thing can mean a lot.

When people judge another person's reality based on their own set of experiences, they do the person they're judging a great disservice.

Both Malcolm Young and Robin Williams taught me a lot. The biggest thing they taught me is that having compassion is the most important thing. As neither of them are conventionally attractive, they also taught me that true beauty is in the soul. Not that either of them are ugly, but neither of them would ever be considered "hunky" by any stretch of the imagination.

Both of them struggled with depression and addiction issues. These are certainly things to which I can relate. 

These are beautiful people--truly beautiful people, not Hollywood hyped beautiful on the outside hollow on the inside glamour seeking glory grabbers. If I do end up being one of the many succumbing to the horror of dementia, at least I will know I am in glorious company. I love you Mal, and I love you Robin. And I do not give one single fuck what anyone thinks of that statement.

I guess I've said what I need to say. It pretty well boils down to this. Quit fucking judging. You do not know what another person is going through or what they have been through. Since you haven't experienced their life, you aren't qualified to judge it.

I can't live as if there's no tomorrow, because my Last Day may be here sooner than I ever would have imagined. I have to get what I can done in what time I may have left. I'm not wasting that time conforming to anyone else's bullshit standards.

~Cie~