So much to say, but gods, I’m tired.

What a weekend.

maybe later.

the walls aren’t only inside.

I hear the dissonant whistle of the freight train. Her collar hangs from my mirror, intentionally unwashed, her blood and fluids making it stiff, a thick canvas torn through three holes. It is impossible to tear. she was hit hard, it was quick and complete.

I miss My Bean.

Today I did laundry, and found her hairs as I pulled out my clothes.

I don’t need to worry about her anymore. I have stopped feeding her and giving her water, a week after she left. She watches me now. There was never a companion like her. She will come back, I will see her.

I need to come back. I need to get the tatoo that honors her here,where she passed. Only in Austin. I need a good artist. I welcome recomendations in this writing. I have little money lately, but that will hopefully change. It should not be free, but I can’t afford much. I want to pay for this pain. I want to carry it forever.

Advertisement

Tonight I asked Albert. I will go to the meditation retreat, I will go to New Orleans, see Cole, her home, and offer myself to animal rescue program. After that…

He stopped me in mid sentence.

he said “You are always welcome home.” I made him repeat it. It was the same.

Will I come back? I don’t know. I want to, but the world is out there, waiting as I have waited for it. She is here. She is here…

I am hers, I think that I always have been.

I will decide. I have. I will come back.

I promised.

A Good Question…

Plastic wrote:
> I saw you on here and realized that i totally
> miss you.
> whats going on in your life??
> where are you living? from the photos it looks
> like some magical fairy land…….
> im so sorry about bean…i know how much she
> ment to you.
> what is the best part about your life right now?

My Reply:

The people, the growth, the way I am learning to work through suffering and just have good ol’ pain.

A certain woman whose eyes I can see my dreams and sorrow in, whose smile makes it all okay. Our love for each other both tender and full of beautiful rage. Release. We learn together. We open further. We’re terrified because we look into mirrors, and know ourselves enough to be wary, but we believe in each other.

The necklace I made out of Beans teeth.

This Beautiful Forest.

The way creativity is a way of life, a passion, a need here – never is there anything less important. It nurtures, inspires.

The knowledge that I can do anything I want, and will. I always have, but now I back me up, and have much more confidence.

Chocolate Milk. Coffee. Bourbon. Gotta love the way we medicate.

The way my tent sounds when it gets windy here.

Dying my hair Black Cherry again.

Re-piercing my ears – probably today or tomorrow.

Many things.

My life is the best part of my life.

Today is the best part of my life.

You are the best part of my life, and all the people I care about.

Right now.

My life is full, beautiful. Full of sorrow and shining with love.

My life is the best part of my life, every day.

Last night Fred became something new, something much more effective in
the spoooookiness of The Creature – and I smelled as sweet as a baby,
to boot.

Talcum powder.

Before each group came through I poured the powder all over my hair, my
costume. With each small movement an ethereal powder floated off of me,
with each violent shake of my head it exploded. Freaked people the fuck
out when Fred popped out at them.

The Haunted Forest is open again tonight. Fred will be standing high and smelling baby fresh.

Come on down.

(a couple photos tat Jenifer took of Fred are now on my Tribe profile.)

They collaborated against me, plotted and schemed. So apparently unassuming, just laying around and serving me when needed – I had no idea what was going on. They were clever. They waited until I woke, and then assaulted me while my eyes were barely open. They had the upper hand – there was nothing I could do. They won.

I woke this morning to my clothes strewn around my tent – cleverly placed everywhere as if I did it, but I know it is their own form of protest.

I need to do my laundry.

A beautiful day for standing around. A cool breeze, sunshine.

I’ve been invited to set up in front of Austin Art Glass on S. Congress. Probably be there around 1:30 for a few hours, then back to The Forest to become Fred, and finally get some shots taken of it by Jennifer. A busy day.

Monday, Sleepytime Gorilla Museum. Damn, I haven’t been to see a show in so long it’s pathetic.

Strig, care to join me?

Okay, time for coffee. Big coffee. Sweet Elixir of Life. GoGo Juice.

Katzen has been asked to leave the property today. It’s sad – I like her, but there are lines that should never be crossed, and she crossed them with both Albert (tagging his alter to Alisun with spray paint) and me. There is definitely a good person in there, I’ve seen it many times – unfortunately her chemical imbalance is stronger…

Okay. really. Coffee.

Now.

A darkened tent and a low battery on Clotho. This needs to be quick, but what is there to say? I could say that I wish she was here, so we could look into each others eyes and know that it was time to get out of the drunken mayhem of the lounge. No words, simply an understanding. A nod, and she would stand up with me and hold my hand as we walked away. I could say that the way she wanted to tell me of her birth resonated so deeply inside of me that there weren’t any words I could find to express my gratitude in what she was willing to share, and most importantly, why. I could say that the respect, her understanding of the reverence I hold for the necklace I now wear and her asking if she may touch it – the look in her eyes – brought tears to mine, and I knew again. Her.

I could say that I will soon give her the pedals fallen from the flower, the withered and decayed ones that so few seem to see. Look to the earth, I am not so pretty. The worms writhe in the mess. She knows. Fuck all of you for calling me “beautiful”. I have offered you nothing of me but writings that barely glance the surface. So few know. She does. I never want to hear that again. I know better. I give the gift of hatred to those I care about. Hate me, understand. I give them my darkness – but even then, only a taste, and I have even threatened lives through it when I was a different me.

but I need you.

I just need you to see, as well.

I could say many things, but I won’t. It is time to sleep, and dream of my succubus. The dreams will be forgotten before waking, but the subtle smile will remain. I want to wake up next to her, but she won’t read this soon enough…

Fred is slow to manifest tonight, there was rage and words earlier as I found when I returned that Katzen had gone through my tent, touched sacred things, gone through the box where I keep my altar and stabbed my Athame into the earth, through my leather, in front of the tent she has been kicked out of.

I’m calmer now. It takes a lot to take me to that level of seething anger, and so few people see it. As much as I want to kick her teeth in, I know the bad energy she brought on herself will do it better. I let it go. I will cleanse my tools. I did, however, kick the shit out of a chair that was in my path as I went to confront her.

Sorry, chair. Not good to be in my way when I search for anyone who wrongs me…

Time to strap into Fred.

to you.

“The world is not respectable; it is mortal, tormented, confused, deluded forever; but it is shot through with beauty, with love, with glints of courage and laughter; and in these, the spirit blooms…”

~ George Santayana

“Life is slippery.

Here, take my hand.”

~ h. jackson brown jr.

Bean, Blue Hair, & ASL

Three weeks today. Her smile adorns me, her necklace is almost done, I just need to get a silver clasp to hold it safely to me, right now it is knotted. It turned out well, but I will change it when I find the beads that were in my head when I envisioned the necklace made of her teeth.
I pour the first sip of bourbon on her sand pit, take much more for myself. She never liked bourbon anyway. I need to be careful. It’s still early, lots to do before tonight begins.

It’s strange being here these days. Talks come to dogs, of how good some are, how well behaved, how wonderful, how cute. I want My Bean to be here, show them all what the perfect companion is. I want to howl her name, scream at them letting them know that they are wrong, My Bean is the best, ever. Still, the tears fall. Her smile is reflected in them.

I miss her so much…

…

I look at a single blue hair, found much earlier and saved in between pages of a book. This time it brings warmth, and I smile at the uncertain comfort. There is never true comfort in a mirror. I know what lies beneath the image, ready to destroy, trying desperately not to – but there is laughter through tears, there is a darkness that is familiar and home. Words said that mimic my thoughts, my actions of a lifetime. She says the things to me that I tell no one, we exchange different lines of the same warnings as if on cue, the dialogue of lovers. The moon smiles, shines on our faces as we are enfolded in its glow. The steel heart behind us symbolic of our pasts…

…

10.21

Albert, that power stealing bastard, has taken power to the tents and the computer to juice our Halloween thing. Quite fine, but there is a deafening silence in my tent, and fuck – no computer in the barn. Again, a wireless hobo. It will do for now…

Last night we had about seventy five children from the deaf and blind schools come through the trail, and that was an absolute delight. The Creature (Fred) was thrown together in minutes when the call went out that there were 50 people lined up at the gate, I yelled at people to get me some fucking lighting and cut myself off in half sentence realizing the futility and did what I could myself. It was a beautiful evening when the initial madness calmed down, really – the highlight being when one of the deaf girls in a group pointed at Fred (me), staring at him with wonder in her eyes as she backed up, as he advanced – and then she gave the sign for “I love you”.

That stopped Fred short. His eyes softened, he placed his front legs wide and bowed deeply in gratitude to this beautiful little girl, and then rose, and pointed the way out, watching as she left…

…

I wonder where I will end up after the Vipassana retreat. Everthing inside wants to come back here, to The Enchanted Forest, and truly become a part of it. Come back to other things, as well. One other in particular.

I don’t know. Those answers will come.

Exhausted. A warmth flows through my heart. The faintest hint of a smile graces my mouth, everything is good for now.

Kicked off the sidewalk so I statued on a Jeep. Less tips, but how was I going to pass up that offer?

A surprise visit where walls turned to windows and

sharing love with the Moon.

Exhausted. A warmth flows through my heart, my eyes shine as they struggle to stay open just a few minutes more.

I savor it.