I have time on my fingertips. I also have written skill. Instead of creating a world or a story right now, i'm going to ask people to find me, and introduce me to theirs. I'm better at mimicking what is real than i am at sci-fi, warlocks with weapons and general extremes of fantasy. I do like Elven worlds however, and could be convinced into other niches with persuasion. I was last active here as a dedicated advanced writer before the site went down 10 years ago. This is my first reintroduction back to Role Play writing. I'd like to make friends first here. Inbox me. Show me around. Sell me a tale i can tie myself to.
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- -o-O-o-Fantasia-o-O-o- 10 yrs ago
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semper iuvenis
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2.3.18
I sit in a modern, welcoming flat in the west coast of Scotland, in a post industrial town where nothing ever happens now. One day i'll get out, but for now, God keeps putting obstacles in my way. Or allowing them. Semantics. It is half midnight on a thursday, and Elderslie is being chased by "The Beast From The East". This Siberian snow storm has had us under its spell for days. It is supposed to last. Schools, facilities and transport have been cancelled for a while. People have abandoned cars and if they dare go out they buy basic supplies wherever they can find them, and home in when the blizzard strikes a peak; returning back out to talk to neighbours when it quells. Right now i hear that strange blustering, whipping and Vuooooooing, expressing just how cold and hostile it is outside.
Earlier today i ventured out on an errand for my ludicrous friend in the flat diagonally below me. She called to complain to me that her mother had brought her staple groceries. She said she didn't want sensible things. She wanted crap. So i went to buy her some. I trudged to the corner shop and spent £31 on shite. I am forever making cakes and buying sweets and chocolate bars that i stash especially for cupboard raiders that burst into my flat very often. They are like raccoons. My friend was very satisfied with my plunder. I remember a girl in the shop was resentful of my throwing money at such things as vimpto astro bands and burger bite puff crisps and chocolate bars and ice creams. "You must be OFF YOUR NUT", she hissed. She however probably puts money into things i only wish i could, like grand weekends out, cigarettes, clothes.. SECC Hydro gig tickets. My life is dull and quiet. Poetically confined. Don't tell me how to spend my sentence.
I bartered my wit and a snack with a man in the close across from me on my return, and in exchange of a tidbit from my mass of purchased crap, he vowed to pick me some milk up on his drive out. I sarcastically wished him luck on getting out at all. I'd spoken to him earlier while i was attempting to build an igloo. Next thing he was visiting my door and expressing interest in me. And later after that he even brought his daughter to me to introduce her to me. But this man is too old. He is succcessful - a broker. But this isn't what i look for. Where is the long hair? The beautiful charm and light footed playfulness? I seek youth. I seek vibrancy.
Later as the night drew in, i heard what sounded like a child outside, between the sucking and blowing of the snowy whirlwind. Concerned, i moved to the window. Why would a young child be out at 10:30pm in these temperatures? When i looked out i saw a grumpy looking woman slamming the back door of a four by four and getting in the front to drive. As she slammed the doors, something light flickered out and was caught into the air, unseen by them. She drove away into the lamplit distance.
I was fascinated. It was like American Beauty but even more captivating. This wrapper, or whatever it was, frolicked and flickered in the street lamp light, and fluttered through the air so elegantly. I smiled widely, watching it circle and fall; sweeping and lifting again to play higher at rooftop height, only to rest on the ground and swish to and fro once more. It was such a pretty sight. That would have been enough alone.
But then i saw it better in its resting position. It was a strangely perfect rectangle! Could it be? A ten pound note. The new latex plastic type? I believed it was, and so i felt a mad rush of risque and daring, and i decided to do the obvious. I left little Eva-Rose sleeping in her bed and i raced out wearing nothing but my dressing gown, to fetch that plunder. I trod shamelessly barefoot in the stacked up powdered mounds of snow, out onto the icy tire track rink of the road. I laughed and held my gown closed as i tip toed here and there, wondering if it was even still to be found. But there it was! Resting in a cleft of light snow again! I lifted it and kissed it and whispered "I got the money, bitch!" And then i was off the street like the end of someone's confusing hallucination. Reimbursement for the frivolous fun earlier? Who can say.
It is now 1:47 am and the wind is bleak... so bleak noone would survive sleeping rough. I worry for these on our streets. I feel like i've done nothing for them. If God could only move me to donate that note to the Glasgow city mission. If He could prize open my frost bitten hand/heart. I pray for that day when my thought becomes action. Meanwhile i have watched movies, feeling alone and undiscovered. Not even a virgin any more; i'm not the maiden i once was - hoping to find obscure love i could die for. I'm the slightly less desirable version now. I'm apparently still innocent and longing, only this time i have no dowry of mysticism and pale skin. Alright i do. But i tell you it's been touched and tainted and i feel like it is a chain around my neck for life. Like those medical army like keys people wear to warn others. "Damaged Goods".
I mention the time because.. between 12 and 1 am there were youngling adolescents straying up this semi main street on their treks home from the pub. I envied the sparce girls, outnumbered by their male friends. I watched, and hid, and waved back as drunk 20 something year old handsome boys fought and bickered and trooped past, morally rallying each other home. The wind wasn't so up then. I am jealous. I do not want milk errands from those who don't know how to sing and fall along snowy paths. When i bought from that corner shop, the amount of men that had come in to get their girlfriends cravings was ridiculous. And here i was doing it for another without being able to dream of ordering a valiant prince around. Hearing all those who even made it to the drinking hole, let alone managed to stay till the last bell made me jealous of their adventure. I'd do it. If i didn't have Eva i'd go out looking for adventure; chasing it like that fluttering note, with everything to gain. I need faces. I need beautiful faces. They feed me more than anything edible.
I should go to bed. Just know i will lie and listen to the storm outside. I will try to tell myself that i'm lucky to have what i possess at present. But Lord knows, the muting silencing of this storm in our already nowhere town isn't enough to quieten me inside. It only makes my inner echo feel louder.
If the Beast From The East was made of flesh, it let his aggressive nature inside my door. He wouldn't need to fetch me anything to win me.
I sit in a modern, welcoming flat in the west coast of Scotland, in a post industrial town where nothing ever happens now. One day i'll get out, but for now, God keeps putting obstacles in my way. Or allowing them. Semantics. It is half midnight on a thursday, and Elderslie is being chased by "The Beast From The East". This Siberian snow storm has had us under its spell for days. It is supposed to last. Schools, facilities and transport have been cancelled for a while. People have abandoned cars and if they dare go out they buy basic supplies wherever they can find them, and home in when the blizzard strikes a peak; returning back out to talk to neighbours when it quells. Right now i hear that strange blustering, whipping and Vuooooooing, expressing just how cold and hostile it is outside.
Earlier today i ventured out on an errand for my ludicrous friend in the flat diagonally below me. She called to complain to me that her mother had brought her staple groceries. She said she didn't want sensible things. She wanted crap. So i went to buy her some. I trudged to the corner shop and spent £31 on shite. I am forever making cakes and buying sweets and chocolate bars that i stash especially for cupboard raiders that burst into my flat very often. They are like raccoons. My friend was very satisfied with my plunder. I remember a girl in the shop was resentful of my throwing money at such things as vimpto astro bands and burger bite puff crisps and chocolate bars and ice creams. "You must be OFF YOUR NUT", she hissed. She however probably puts money into things i only wish i could, like grand weekends out, cigarettes, clothes.. SECC Hydro gig tickets. My life is dull and quiet. Poetically confined. Don't tell me how to spend my sentence.
I bartered my wit and a snack with a man in the close across from me on my return, and in exchange of a tidbit from my mass of purchased crap, he vowed to pick me some milk up on his drive out. I sarcastically wished him luck on getting out at all. I'd spoken to him earlier while i was attempting to build an igloo. Next thing he was visiting my door and expressing interest in me. And later after that he even brought his daughter to me to introduce her to me. But this man is too old. He is succcessful - a broker. But this isn't what i look for. Where is the long hair? The beautiful charm and light footed playfulness? I seek youth. I seek vibrancy.
Later as the night drew in, i heard what sounded like a child outside, between the sucking and blowing of the snowy whirlwind. Concerned, i moved to the window. Why would a young child be out at 10:30pm in these temperatures? When i looked out i saw a grumpy looking woman slamming the back door of a four by four and getting in the front to drive. As she slammed the doors, something light flickered out and was caught into the air, unseen by them. She drove away into the lamplit distance.
I was fascinated. It was like American Beauty but even more captivating. This wrapper, or whatever it was, frolicked and flickered in the street lamp light, and fluttered through the air so elegantly. I smiled widely, watching it circle and fall; sweeping and lifting again to play higher at rooftop height, only to rest on the ground and swish to and fro once more. It was such a pretty sight. That would have been enough alone.
But then i saw it better in its resting position. It was a strangely perfect rectangle! Could it be? A ten pound note. The new latex plastic type? I believed it was, and so i felt a mad rush of risque and daring, and i decided to do the obvious. I left little Eva-Rose sleeping in her bed and i raced out wearing nothing but my dressing gown, to fetch that plunder. I trod shamelessly barefoot in the stacked up powdered mounds of snow, out onto the icy tire track rink of the road. I laughed and held my gown closed as i tip toed here and there, wondering if it was even still to be found. But there it was! Resting in a cleft of light snow again! I lifted it and kissed it and whispered "I got the money, bitch!" And then i was off the street like the end of someone's confusing hallucination. Reimbursement for the frivolous fun earlier? Who can say.
It is now 1:47 am and the wind is bleak... so bleak noone would survive sleeping rough. I worry for these on our streets. I feel like i've done nothing for them. If God could only move me to donate that note to the Glasgow city mission. If He could prize open my frost bitten hand/heart. I pray for that day when my thought becomes action. Meanwhile i have watched movies, feeling alone and undiscovered. Not even a virgin any more; i'm not the maiden i once was - hoping to find obscure love i could die for. I'm the slightly less desirable version now. I'm apparently still innocent and longing, only this time i have no dowry of mysticism and pale skin. Alright i do. But i tell you it's been touched and tainted and i feel like it is a chain around my neck for life. Like those medical army like keys people wear to warn others. "Damaged Goods".
I mention the time because.. between 12 and 1 am there were youngling adolescents straying up this semi main street on their treks home from the pub. I envied the sparce girls, outnumbered by their male friends. I watched, and hid, and waved back as drunk 20 something year old handsome boys fought and bickered and trooped past, morally rallying each other home. The wind wasn't so up then. I am jealous. I do not want milk errands from those who don't know how to sing and fall along snowy paths. When i bought from that corner shop, the amount of men that had come in to get their girlfriends cravings was ridiculous. And here i was doing it for another without being able to dream of ordering a valiant prince around. Hearing all those who even made it to the drinking hole, let alone managed to stay till the last bell made me jealous of their adventure. I'd do it. If i didn't have Eva i'd go out looking for adventure; chasing it like that fluttering note, with everything to gain. I need faces. I need beautiful faces. They feed me more than anything edible.
I should go to bed. Just know i will lie and listen to the storm outside. I will try to tell myself that i'm lucky to have what i possess at present. But Lord knows, the muting silencing of this storm in our already nowhere town isn't enough to quieten me inside. It only makes my inner echo feel louder.
If the Beast From The East was made of flesh, it let his aggressive nature inside my door. He wouldn't need to fetch me anything to win me.
24.1.18
I would rather not exist, and this is coming from someone who believes in heaven. I see heaven as being unfit for existence while any other alternate reality, dimension or parallel universe exists, geographically, or in state of conscious energy, where any form of non perfection exists. Heaven is not heaven where there is hell next door. For one who knows of hell, no measure of oxytocin, or justification of justice by endless torture is able to remove the knowledge that anywhere God is not, is acceptable. God created a multiverse that He gave free will to. And it has ... i don't comprehend this... it has chosen to break the law of perfection. I cannot comprehend God's curses on the land; that man should toil, and on women that they should lay in pain for a child. God Himself removed perfection and ordered pain. He ordered pain with His Old Testament law to stone people to death. He ordered pain to Jesus. And even after Jesus there is still pain. I... i would rather none of us existed than what God did to Jesus to pay for what we have done to each other.
Jesus said "It is finished." But He also said the world would hate us as it hates Him. Us being those who submit to God. It will be finished when the lake of fire does not exist.
I write this in a positive mental state - nothing lurking behind my reasoning, but the average droll of life and it's nips. It is half 1. I have to get up tomorrow.
The wisest man on earth (who by the way, had 2000 wives without being stoned - which is a contradiction to the law is it not?), said "all is vanity".
I will wake up tomorrow and enjoy smaller things like my bleached hair colour, and... the feel of my fluffy rug under my bare feet. But after that i can only conclude i am not intelligent enough to feel purpose to the point of being connected to this matrix. I am no scientist, however much i congratulate the discipline science negates. I am no philanthropist or movement maker. I am of little use at the moment. I am not quite sure why i was brought into all this. Just to witness it. I am not interested in witnessing it. I don't need the rise of bitcoin. I don't need music. I don't need a loving family. I don't need anything but perfection. Which is why i aim for God.
And yet here we are, God has put me here on earth. To try to feel and think as best i can along the lines that other people do, until i'm gone.
"Cortana. How far away is Niburu?"
I believe God will change me. Somehow. Into the girl lumiere.
I don't deserve to be here. Neither did i deserve to be told to live out my droll life till then. Why either? Why both.
Dim vision. Veiled knowledge for reasons He doesn't disclose. I'd rather be a field mouse or better still... nothing. Where is my sight please.
Complete me or end me.
I would rather not exist, and this is coming from someone who believes in heaven. I see heaven as being unfit for existence while any other alternate reality, dimension or parallel universe exists, geographically, or in state of conscious energy, where any form of non perfection exists. Heaven is not heaven where there is hell next door. For one who knows of hell, no measure of oxytocin, or justification of justice by endless torture is able to remove the knowledge that anywhere God is not, is acceptable. God created a multiverse that He gave free will to. And it has ... i don't comprehend this... it has chosen to break the law of perfection. I cannot comprehend God's curses on the land; that man should toil, and on women that they should lay in pain for a child. God Himself removed perfection and ordered pain. He ordered pain with His Old Testament law to stone people to death. He ordered pain to Jesus. And even after Jesus there is still pain. I... i would rather none of us existed than what God did to Jesus to pay for what we have done to each other.
Jesus said "It is finished." But He also said the world would hate us as it hates Him. Us being those who submit to God. It will be finished when the lake of fire does not exist.
I write this in a positive mental state - nothing lurking behind my reasoning, but the average droll of life and it's nips. It is half 1. I have to get up tomorrow.
The wisest man on earth (who by the way, had 2000 wives without being stoned - which is a contradiction to the law is it not?), said "all is vanity".
I will wake up tomorrow and enjoy smaller things like my bleached hair colour, and... the feel of my fluffy rug under my bare feet. But after that i can only conclude i am not intelligent enough to feel purpose to the point of being connected to this matrix. I am no scientist, however much i congratulate the discipline science negates. I am no philanthropist or movement maker. I am of little use at the moment. I am not quite sure why i was brought into all this. Just to witness it. I am not interested in witnessing it. I don't need the rise of bitcoin. I don't need music. I don't need a loving family. I don't need anything but perfection. Which is why i aim for God.
And yet here we are, God has put me here on earth. To try to feel and think as best i can along the lines that other people do, until i'm gone.
"Cortana. How far away is Niburu?"
I believe God will change me. Somehow. Into the girl lumiere.
I don't deserve to be here. Neither did i deserve to be told to live out my droll life till then. Why either? Why both.
Dim vision. Veiled knowledge for reasons He doesn't disclose. I'd rather be a field mouse or better still... nothing. Where is my sight please.
Complete me or end me.
3.1.2018
I don't sleep well at night. In lasts nights post i mentioned the bitter waters of Mara. I opened my Bible straight after typing it up, and it fell open at that passage. But God took told Moses to take a hyssop branch and throw it into the water which made it good to drink. Hyssop is actually medicinal that way. Look it up. Anyway. I liked how God was listening. I read on and learned that God then led his people from there to a place called Elim, which had 12 palm trees? And 77 pools? Something like that. God, i know, was telling me that Elim is next for me after my suffering. But.. for one who does suffer.. Elim seems so far away, more like a dream or notion.
In the here and now, who or what is my hyssop? I need that branch. I prayed in tongues last night and it pleased God. I went to the spa today and monitored my time there to be back for Eva-Rose, who tore me back to a hopeless state so soon after meeting, with her need to be carried, her tantrums, her peeing on everything. So tired beyond words, inside. Outside. I was lying there in the spa, watching my vision turn off as i went blind for moments in the Chinese salt room. I lay and lay in these rooms; never moving, or coming out of my constant state. Passive communication with my thorough thoughts; knowing myself well. Shutting down to the feel of surveyed, held to knowledge, docking into my minds port once more. That vast silent water. I was lost in steam and sweat. My eyes vacant - lonely. And when i washed my long, platinum hair behind the frosted glass of my spa cubicle, i realised i was frowning deeply while exercising this ritual. My face was aching out a terribly visible emotion. Like something from before the talkies.
My flesh and my lumiere suffer together. One brings hope while the other is as a dead skin, sustained until it is to be transformed.
I read this (see quote) also today. I am part of a group of people who believe there are 144 thousand mantles that God will bestow to members of His bride for work after the rapture. We also believe we will be visibly transformed during the prophesied coming days of darkness. God spoke to me personally about this matter and then i began to find those who He had revealed the same information. Don't trust me for truths, only God. See how my mask shows me on an altar like a carved idol there in my image. Be careful of my flesh which craves worship. I am not here to be seen as an above being. I am a wretched being. I only wish to portray what i experience from above. I find the lumiere dimension's involvement in my journey, unfolding in traces, relieving to discover, etch by etch. You can call me an intriguing mad woman, but that page did fall open at Mara. And when i decided to write this post, i checked the clock and it turned 01:44 am.
I don't sleep well at night. In lasts nights post i mentioned the bitter waters of Mara. I opened my Bible straight after typing it up, and it fell open at that passage. But God took told Moses to take a hyssop branch and throw it into the water which made it good to drink. Hyssop is actually medicinal that way. Look it up. Anyway. I liked how God was listening. I read on and learned that God then led his people from there to a place called Elim, which had 12 palm trees? And 77 pools? Something like that. God, i know, was telling me that Elim is next for me after my suffering. But.. for one who does suffer.. Elim seems so far away, more like a dream or notion.
In the here and now, who or what is my hyssop? I need that branch. I prayed in tongues last night and it pleased God. I went to the spa today and monitored my time there to be back for Eva-Rose, who tore me back to a hopeless state so soon after meeting, with her need to be carried, her tantrums, her peeing on everything. So tired beyond words, inside. Outside. I was lying there in the spa, watching my vision turn off as i went blind for moments in the Chinese salt room. I lay and lay in these rooms; never moving, or coming out of my constant state. Passive communication with my thorough thoughts; knowing myself well. Shutting down to the feel of surveyed, held to knowledge, docking into my minds port once more. That vast silent water. I was lost in steam and sweat. My eyes vacant - lonely. And when i washed my long, platinum hair behind the frosted glass of my spa cubicle, i realised i was frowning deeply while exercising this ritual. My face was aching out a terribly visible emotion. Like something from before the talkies.
My flesh and my lumiere suffer together. One brings hope while the other is as a dead skin, sustained until it is to be transformed.
I read this (see quote) also today. I am part of a group of people who believe there are 144 thousand mantles that God will bestow to members of His bride for work after the rapture. We also believe we will be visibly transformed during the prophesied coming days of darkness. God spoke to me personally about this matter and then i began to find those who He had revealed the same information. Don't trust me for truths, only God. See how my mask shows me on an altar like a carved idol there in my image. Be careful of my flesh which craves worship. I am not here to be seen as an above being. I am a wretched being. I only wish to portray what i experience from above. I find the lumiere dimension's involvement in my journey, unfolding in traces, relieving to discover, etch by etch. You can call me an intriguing mad woman, but that page did fall open at Mara. And when i decided to write this post, i checked the clock and it turned 01:44 am.
New Message from Julie (note last paragraph)
Vision received Dec. 28, 2017
I was out in the country, a great distance from populated areas with a medium sized group of people. All my family was there, along with some familiar people from the town I live in, and some I did not recognize at all.
I suddenly realized that Yahushua was in this place with us, and He was talking individually with people. I was frantic to get to Him, and ran to where I knew in my spirit He was. He was talking with a young man in a room sitting at a table. I stood just outside of the door which was open, not wanting to interrupt, but desperately wanting my turn with Father! Yahushua was light-hearted and smiling, laughing and at ease talking with this young man. I could hear His voice as He was talking and was so curious as to what He would talk about with me.
When He was done, He stood up and came out the door towards me. I thought I would explode from the excitement of not only seeing Him so closely, but now having the opportunity to hug Him! It has been my heart's desire since, well, forever for me! As He saw me, He smiled and closed His eyes and sighed "aahh," as I lunged for Him, and He wrapped me up very tightly. I literally felt myself melting into Him, and I knew Our hearts were One and Our spirits were merged. He held me for the longest time, and everything else in the world simply evaporated and ceased to exist, all in an instant. He gently stroked my head and softly whispered, "You know it's going to be alright." The peace and sense of security was indescribable. I was home, and I knew the unconditional, eternal love from my King and Messiah. Finally, after several long minutes that I didn't want to ever end, He released me and asked me to walk back outside with Him because He had things to show me.
We walked back to the hill where I originally found myself at the beginning of the vision, and He pointed to the ground in front of us and said, "Watch this." Just then, the ground opened up and became a very large pool of sorts, beautiful, shimmering, pure as crystal and what is most closely described in our terms as a 'royal bluish metallic liquid' undulating back and forth. There aren't words to describe the texture or characteristics other than supernatural and unlike anything of this world. He then said, "get in" and He dove into the water Himself. As He came up, He was laughing and then told me to follow. I went in and instantly felt the weight of my body as well as all the cares of this world suddenly disappear, and I was flooded with a peace and sense of security and love once again that is not like anything I've ever experienced here in this world. I was full of joy, light and energized, strengthened and more alert in my mind than ever before.
Yahushua gave me the understanding in my spirit that this was not my complete transformation, but rather the outpouring of strength that is coming very soon to His remnant people to prepare us for what is upon us, before He brings us home. The others I was with were coming now and everyone started to immerse themselves in this pool of living water. He then got out of the water, completely dry, and asked me to do the same as He pointed towards the sky. He said to me, "Now, watch this." There were very disturbing sounds like groaning and gates creaking and metal bending under the earth, and the earth started shaking. At the same time, I heard a distressing sound in the atmosphere, most closely resembling an explosion of sorts, but nothing like what we know as a conventional weapon here. The atmosphere was 'morphing' and it somehow seemed as if the elements were melting or fusing and the thought instantly came to me that this was some type of nuclear event, although I am not certain exactly what this was. Then black smoke filled the air, as I saw fire and the smoke filling the entire sky around us, very, very quickly turning the day into almost night.
Yahushua gave me the understanding again, without the need for words, but through my heart, that the immersion in the pool was His gift to His people who are His Bride to prepare us for what we will experience for a short time before we are completely transformed and brought home. He allowed me to know that we will experience destructive events, and He also told me that many, many people will die. I sensed His sadness at how many, and how unprepared they will be when they die, because they did not heed His warnings to prepare, nor did they accept Him as their Messiah. Those that are His, however, will be protected under the shelter of His wings, and He will be walking through this with us. The events I'm told will happen extremely quickly, as He has spoken and prepared us for in many other messages.
I then wanted to ask Him if this event He had just showed me was the event that brings about the three days of darkness, and He shook His head, no. This was a separate event, and this one He showed me was the first to occur. The arrival of a planetary body bringing about the darkness is a separate event/judgment. He told me again, as He has in the past, that during these three days of darkness when the planetary body arrives, the Bride will experience the complete transformation, and those who have been ordained to stay and minister for a short time will do so after this transformation. His Bride then comes home to the Kingdom, as His wrath will be poured out upon the earth.
His last words to me were, "All these things are here, upon you, but I am also here with you always and will carry you through it all."
End of dream.
As with anything, please take this to Father and pray for discernment, revelation and interpretation.
Shalom,
Julie
*Note* Please check back in as I am working on posting another message with video that I received December 21, 2017.
They shall love me.
2.1.18
I drink wine, unlike me, tonight, as a beautiful, gentle sleeping mask. It, and the sound of worship melody is gracing me into the next day. Eva-Rose returns to nursery tomorrow. After the fight to get her there against her will, i will have a mere 2 hours of freedom, and oh how freedom tastes so free even if given for a minute. Time does not factor into freedom. I just need enough to stand alone empty handed.
I have cried tonight. There is a man above me who has a bed to weak for him. He has taken a girl and made her happy. The walls shook. Is this how i really deserve to be christened for having taken the daunting, near impossible mission of moving out as a single parent, still sick, to a private let flat?
I do not seek a man. I do however seek love. I know wherever i go, the chapel flame in me stops pilgrims in their tracks; those who i would least suspect beg time of me for long periods. I know i have those pilgrims and faithful blood surrounding me. But when for the days where i will leap with energy? Where the beaten track will have been made by mine own foot alone?? Oh Lord i petition thee. Without any burnt sacrifice to recommend me. Cept my own heart. I have tasted the bitter waters at Mara. I know and taste the dream also when i flee. Wont You let me flee, oh my God. To Petra.
Where the fountain of youth and flooding of grace will come so quickly to those who seek. I drink wine. It is my abated selfishness and my repentant communion, while i cling my tight fist around my world. I need to run.
To run as i used to. To run far - over fallen trunk and running river, through thicket and field. Past the withered sheath.
Iona, beloved.
2.1.18
I drink wine, unlike me, tonight, as a beautiful, gentle sleeping mask. It, and the sound of worship melody is gracing me into the next day. Eva-Rose returns to nursery tomorrow. After the fight to get her there against her will, i will have a mere 2 hours of freedom, and oh how freedom tastes so free even if given for a minute. Time does not factor into freedom. I just need enough to stand alone empty handed.
I have cried tonight. There is a man above me who has a bed to weak for him. He has taken a girl and made her happy. The walls shook. Is this how i really deserve to be christened for having taken the daunting, near impossible mission of moving out as a single parent, still sick, to a private let flat?
I do not seek a man. I do however seek love. I know wherever i go, the chapel flame in me stops pilgrims in their tracks; those who i would least suspect beg time of me for long periods. I know i have those pilgrims and faithful blood surrounding me. But when for the days where i will leap with energy? Where the beaten track will have been made by mine own foot alone?? Oh Lord i petition thee. Without any burnt sacrifice to recommend me. Cept my own heart. I have tasted the bitter waters at Mara. I know and taste the dream also when i flee. Wont You let me flee, oh my God. To Petra.
Where the fountain of youth and flooding of grace will come so quickly to those who seek. I drink wine. It is my abated selfishness and my repentant communion, while i cling my tight fist around my world. I need to run.
To run as i used to. To run far - over fallen trunk and running river, through thicket and field. Past the withered sheath.
Iona, beloved.
1.1.2018 I am always here. Beholden to new and old years as if my skin had not shed a cell. Memory is like a film reel i have just freshly developed. Change cannot change me, see my eyes. I have written and written in my mind as if churning out memoirs of my own Gatsby. But they have been kept; save them being laid bare to give more stone throwers power. Not one inch is bruised. Not a crack on the porcelain. My flesh was always half injured grass as fielded you could ever find such stuff. Just as we are all smelted spelt without the masks we craft to negotiate place in this realm. A simple mask have i. Not pure. Wavering. Some blush.
The inner glow shows brightly though, below both rouge and beyond the tufted tare. And i thank God in my being that it is there. Psalm 124 says that Satan has laid a trap; that no man can escape his jaws. Oh the flesh is scored! Now learn, accordingly, that luminescence is unquenchable and Yahweh is in me. There Satan so flounders. And so i will always be. Never snuffed. Never bruised.
For i do not count my referred to self as flesh. Nor the made-up version of my flesh. I will always speak of "i" as fledgling. When eternity after earth is scrolled, comes, then my age will begin.
I am Lumiere. I am always.
Then sometimes here.
The inner glow shows brightly though, below both rouge and beyond the tufted tare. And i thank God in my being that it is there. Psalm 124 says that Satan has laid a trap; that no man can escape his jaws. Oh the flesh is scored! Now learn, accordingly, that luminescence is unquenchable and Yahweh is in me. There Satan so flounders. And so i will always be. Never snuffed. Never bruised.
For i do not count my referred to self as flesh. Nor the made-up version of my flesh. I will always speak of "i" as fledgling. When eternity after earth is scrolled, comes, then my age will begin.
I am Lumiere. I am always.
Then sometimes here.
10.1.16 5:00 am
Is this how easy it is? To slip back into those old slippers?
Wore them a long time ago here. I bet all the old names are gone. Bet they all grew up and got jobs and decided not to be hardcore pretend dicks after all.
Anyway. I'm back. I think i'm using this place cos noone knows me here. Too many people know me in real life. I don't know what thats about because i'm actually a recluse. Unintentionally. I just don't have a life. Don't get out. I intend it to change. But i'm a divided person. Keep morally warring with myself which dictates my every day.
So tonight. Yeah lets get started on tonight.
I was in bed, bored as fuck. (I don't usually swear but i'm going to tonight. For syntax sake) So i was laying there with those eyes that i don't see anyone else get. A sort of tired ugly look that only i can achieve.
Massive puffed up eyes and mascara all under them. I was so exhausted. But i was fed up. Some mad MENTAL girl who's full on EATING my ex alive is currently at war with me through fake profiles she's made on facebook. My tendency is to block her each time. You know these southern girls who can't articulate and really need to get a guy and worship him because it's all they have. I think love is the greatest. The south has it right in establishing relationships as top priority. But the sheer lack of career motivation amongst girls in the south states of america leaves too much room for cat fights and straggly hair. I don't need that. So she's chasing me up even though i've not spoken to this (so much more than) best friend of 5 years, for a few months. At first it was highly interesting and amusing to see her talk. Like a specimen. But.. weirdly..
Yeah weirdly. Honestly... it's funny how our emotions are controlled by hormonal reactions outwith our logical control (great book to read which will teach you about this is "Emotional Intelligence" by Daniel Coleman. I 'found' that book in a charity shop by following Jesus exact "left... left .. right.. stop!" instructions. He literally told me exactly where to go in a massive library area of books. But i wasted His time and looked through them all for 20 minutes anyway. And it was STILL this one that i ended up with. Even though He told me to go straight to that number of that row on that table within seconds. Yeah. So.. weirdly enough we humans can't control our amygdalas too easily. And it leads us to react with impulse faster than logic.
This impulse made me hurt. Even though this mad mental ex'es girl is a right midden and needs none of my polished time. Because i'm disappointed that a kindred spirit of mine (a true fleck of my soul) has gone and relinquished me to resonate with her. We could have been something.. You know. Something real. I'm talking bonnie and clyde. He's different. And she's just a typical southern streak of insecure simpleness. She's probably actually nice. Just... seriously simple. I hate that.
So i'm there in my bed, scoring through tinder, with vocal commentary to every face i swipe no to. And it was dawning on me.. in that moment. .. that i'm just bored. I'm letting my youth slip by, STILL, to ... i have no fucking idea. I actually don't know which planet i've been on. But i'd had enough of it tonight. It dawned on me by the way she'd hurt me by providing a link between me and bubba, only to be an idiot link - deliberately talking ABOUT him to me, in actual embarrassing pride and ignorance *____* This actual base DNA carrying being who is like my second skin somewhere out there. And this .. secondary level human with only half layer thinking she's boss. Aw God. You know i can't be doing with that.
I was thinking. Why am i sitting in gaining amusement by this? Why am i waiting for her baited reply just to shred her insecurity a little bit further in? It's cos i'm bored. And i'm not in touch with my DNA counterpart out there any more.
These types have names. We were first donned as "lumiere". I was. By StrAngel. But he can go hang until he comes on his knees to me. I had to contemplate this title. He said it was because i was a light in the darkness. I began to understand his title for me. And i noticed how some people ARE lumieres. Auroras. Beacons. SOME people. Just SOME.
And those types are completely different from your average. Their lives are completely spotlighted with weird coincidence. As if they are being monitored or directed by metaphysical forces. They act in wisdom they don't know they hold. They do things they don't realize are massive butterfly effects to whole crowds of people. There's something about these individuals. They never chose to be this way. They just are. Chosen.
And we all have parts to play in this life. On this earth. So don't let anyone think less of you if you are a humble pilgrim who eases through and understands his moral conscience without needing to feel like being someone big. I am jealous of the content and 'normal' folk. I'm riddled with weird, affected experience. It's like my life is more puppeted by extreme forces than it is moved by me.
So i looked at my scruffy face and curl frizzled hair in the mirror tonight and said "yes" .. "you will go out.. you'll regret this if you don't". And i made myself call that taxi.. dress in simple nightclub gear, and i put my makeup on.. redid that face. I left the house THEN called my mum to tell her she had to babysit my one year old. I heard her arguments with me down the phone and told her i couldn't listen to her anymore. And from that moment on i was free.
Free to fucking exist in a place where noone knew me. Oh God it was refreshing.
Just the stupid, rave style music, DJ'd by someone who cared. The drinks and the dresses. People dressed up like they cared. But me being indistinguishable even among them. I came to the door without even having ID. I blagged my way in. I just lifted my arms up and looked to the front of that hall.. that massive room of people.. and zoned out to the music.
Infact if i take it back to the start i went upstairs and threw back 2 jager bombs and a vodka coke and watched some guy on acid dance in the rock room. Then i realized the barman was hitting on me.. and the music got too happy. So i left. I went downstairs.. and i moved in amongst the crowds to be my own person. And i loved it. Everything. The noise. The youth. The ignorance. The messy makeup. The fat on the girls. The curious singing of the guys. Every guy seemed to be singing.. howling into the air.
I loved it. And as if.. life is THAT easy. I found a group of people just like me.. all in a circle.. out of nowhere. The just opened the circle and adopted me in while i danced alone as if i were in phuket. And i noticed they all had THEE SHIT sense of humour. So i goaded them and played with until we were all howling too. We made moves and sang and acted out the seriousness of each song as if we were fucking amateur west end production christmas night out team. We DID it. Loved it.
What could go wrong with this night? I thought.. nothing.. as long as i wasn't a shit and let some pleb guide me into thinking they could steal my precious time. So that's why even though this bulgarian semi pretty boy found me and had eyes for me with some MAJOR affectionate dancing on the floor.. i refused his kisses multiple times and we ended up parting. But it was even fun when we danced. No regrets. He lifted me up so high above the sea of people. I'd pose and give royal waves and i had the time of it. Let him lift me so high, and dance with me, spinning me and pinning me. But i didn't like the way he just wanted to kiss without any connection. I hate that. Weak kisses.
You know what the teenage mutant ninja turtles swim past in the sewers when they're off to get a pepperoni pizza from splinter the rat in pipe 309? They fucking swim through jobbies and general water poured off boiled carrots, and other flushed nonsense like posh mens pee, and slobbers OH AND WEAK VOMMY KISSES FLOATING WORSE THAN SPORES OF MOULDY FAT.
Anyway. He left me so i was like.. clean break dude. Rejoice. And i bantered on my merry way. Took my time to check myself in the ladies toilets mirror. Jakester. My makeup had slidden, i virtually had no makeup by this point. I don't look pretty without makeup.
I'm being serious. I look like a haggis kilt wearing piece of shit. Compared to fucking max factor glasgow girls that is. Honestly. I don't know what planet i came from. So i was looking at my complete potato face, and complaining to the gals next to me, when some chubby ass cellulite fat pretty thing came up to me with a brown fake tan face and amazing hair, and told me repeatedly i looked beautiful. I didn't need QVC to order her chat - i was buyin it. She was just the thing i needed. Her little orange face and love, made me want to be orange too. And i thought.. yes.. i'm going to fake tan soon. My white, pale maiden skin has to go. I need to be wonderful and outrageous like her. She was trying to get me in the VIP lounge with her friends who were celebrating a bday. But i said.. "they're shocking"! She said they were all gay. They were all lifting each other off the floor and dirty dancing together. I was like..
I need another drink.
Meanwhile.. on this new floor, which wasn't the rock attic, or the main rave hall - it was the rnb hip hop room.. i was observing who was around me. And there were many plebs of fine fettle. So many. I looked around. I saw pleb after pleb. Some boys were even sitting in their alcove doing serious stunt worthy hand actions to rapper shit. I was like.. "What is this grotto den of hidden awesome wonkiness; of mice and men and IDIOTS that i transpire to meander through. What yonder window breaks." I still needed my drink.
I only wish i'd been able to give personal commendations and possibly dance with that ash blonde boy who was too effed to give a cocks crow as he sat in the corner of his booth and arm hand actioned his way into self sufficient paradise. But it was the other one, the actual eejit skitey big boy with serious intent who went for me and pretty much had me on him from them on. For the rest of the night. By this time it was about the last hour anyway.
We were just joking at the bar. By joking i mean.. throwing things everywhere and shouting and grabbing each others faces. He was so irritating, i couldn't get served. I was sobering up. I'd drank here and there throughout the night, but this was dismal. I was resorting to turning into a level 10 fool on him just to get things sped along and try regain some self preservation. But he wasn't on it. He was on me.
He kept telling me he worked for morgan stanley. Ok so he told me like one or two times within a few seconds to inform why he was out, but i rolled with it and went fucking mental in his face about morgan stanley. I know some other girl who works there. And i think there must have been some kind of sugar still in my veins, because i just created a riot with him and his homies about it. Whatever. I think he found it absolutely hilarious that i didn't give a shit who he was.
Good.
So then he probably asked about me. And i gave him nothing. I just kept getting irritated that i couldn't get a drink. By which time he'd called ME irritating, and was getting into me big time. Shut up. Piss off. I mean.. just don't turn out to be a fop, ok.
But he wanted to use his elite physical aggression to hit on me now. And he began to open up. I found this soooo weird.
I asked his name. He asked mine. I told him. Iona. But he didn't let on he knew more until some good few minutes had passed. And then he took me so aback. He told me my full name and that he'd met me 4 years ago.. for just a brief moment somewhere. He said "you're mega religious aren't you, you're into being holy". I was astounded. I was still taking the piss and generally acting like a ferret. But yeah.. he knew who i was and i couldn't pin point him. How had he met me? Surely i would have remembered him. 4 years ago?
He dragged me away from that bar, which had given us little reward, and we went back up to the rave hall. This time it was something else as an experience. We danced like we were hoodlum animals. We honestly owned the floor and had no decorum. I undid his belt and tried to rip open his jeans. I flashed my bra at one point too. He lifted me up over and over above the masses.. again. And he'd dry fuck me mid air with my legs round him as we messily kissed like two frogs doing time in jail. We made no sense. This kind of mess.. i get.
My shoes are downstairs in the hall right now. They're filthy. They prove what kind of a night i've had. It was awesome. Me and this Christopher boy were such high energy fools. Lumiere? I dunno. I don't think so. But don't you think it's weird that in a club .. on a random, rainy january night (I haven't been to this club for YEARS and decided tonight that i'd have enough waiting around shit), in glasgows sauchihall st of many many venues.. this stocky, brown eyed predator had all my background info, and recognized me as a girl he saw for only an hour or so before... that many years gone by. I asked him with a moment of sheer disbelief if he remembered everyone like this. And he said no.
So i ripped his face apart with kisses. And we drank more shots, and more vodka, and we scuffed about the floor in the middle of squirming, toppling mobs of youngsters. Aw i forgot to tell you what happened earlier on tonight. Hm.. do i have to get into that now? It gets so complicated. Ugh. My clothes were already pulled off by another guy i'm close to who i'd inadvertently made horny when we went out to the shopping mall together, I DIDN'T MAKE HIM HORNIE OKAYYYYIE, just because i was wearing a decent new bra which actually freaking supports my breasts for once. Boobs. That's all some men need. But claimed me to be sexy. And when he drove me home he used the ruse of putting my little one to bed to bed me. I never knew that's what he wanted until he closed my bedroom door and took me up against my bedroom wall.
You know.. i'd much rather that ex with the psycho girlfriend was my bed partner. We actually had chemistry. This guy is just like.. a sensible, handsomey looking, all round nice, mummys boy type needing mothered, over organised simple to please phd student. From england. You know the oxford lifestyle when it's leaked into working class wit. That mix. You know. But anyway.. i felt kinda hollow after that loving experience. Because he was utterly turned on and lost his mind on me.. but even after it was all done.. i wondered how he'd gotten away with it.. and why i never came. I never do with him. Even though i care. He's just not my prince. Not my rough DNA.
So back to me on the dancefloor with this morgan stanley guy. Christopher. I guess i was having flashbacks to earlier which motivated me to break free even more. We just both /wanted/ to let go.
And i could feel that Christopher was somewhere in the region now of actually caring about me protectively. I dunno.. i hugged him a few times. Hid my face in his neck between snaps of reality. And he played the male role.
And we scuffed about till the very end. We'd made every effort to be a menace of a duo within that closely populated edge of the dancefloor. the lights went up.. and we, like everyone else.. headed to the foyer and stairs, where streams of people who were LOUD began to congregated. When i say this was a scene, i mean it.. these people were absolutely HOWLING and CHANTING together. They sang SO many songs together in the stair well that you couldn't think or breathe. Christopher drunkenly repeated over and over that it wasn't safe. That it was too out of control. Every man was yelling into the air. All in waves of unison as new songs spread. It was weird. Staff had no chance in cooling it with them. Their voices and barrier arms were knocked and drowned out. On this rubbishy cold night.. did i experience something that never happens there? Was this a "moment" .. a memory? A moment in time that only those who were there can talk about now in awe, because it's never happened like that before, and wont again soon? I'm telling you, guys were filming it on their phones. There had to be hundreds of us, couldn't move, packed on the stairs. Stuck. Screaming and singing and stamping and chanting. I just wrapped christophers arms around me and focused out.
I had that oxymoronic return to innocence that i'd lost in the progression of the night. On the rock floor in the attic level, when i'd first walked in.. i'd stood with my drink by a barrel in a corner.. clapping to a group of girls dancing to metal music. Those same girls i'd spoken to later in the toilets.. i was showing one of them my boring cesarean scar which has ruined my body's looks i think. And obvs after that i got sweatier and sweatier till chris and i were smearing and wiping our pheromones away from each others temples. Slippy. But in that stairwell.. the sweat still there, he catered for me protectively, and my white cotton top symbolized my quietness and meekness in the face of this out of count crowd.
We stepped into the rain.
My small brown leather jacket, zipped right up to the neck like it was when i first stepped in the club. The rain heavily pelting through my loosed, messed hair.
And the pavements were strewn with all kinds of sodden, trodden figments of litter. Everything was washed and pulped to mere strands of things, on this densely packed street of people. You had to look where you stood on the uneven concrete slabs of pavement. Homeless people, flower sellers, drunk folk. Rammy. And i called the taxi driver who'd taken me in, on the personal number he'd given me when he first had me in his car. He swore he'd come back for me as soon as i'd call him. I was pretty impressed. He'd been a good, careless chat on the way there. So here was me, and christopher.. the guys friend, messing around on sauchihall st, waiting to get our taxis. And we were trying all to make sense of each other. And the queues kept forming and we kept getting into them, then stepping out of them and walking half a street away in one direction and half a street back. It was funny to mock general people watching situations at first, but then the rain drained me a bit, and i began to insist i had to stand at my waiting point. My battery was on 1% and had died already as i was revving it awake to make sure i'd get the call back from my taxi man (in his pimped up racer style car.. :/ ) So anyway.. christopher said he'd never see me again, he'd bet. And i was like... "till next time", cos they found their uber taxi after all that, and i insisted they get in and leave me be. Its nice to see a gent who cares. It should be the done thing, but it's nice to be able to turn down the offer because i know i'm in a good place security wise. So i let them go.
And i got in the racer car taxi. And he asked if he could pick up his friend on her way home from work too, and i was all cool with it. So a stripper waitress got in and talked to him all the way back to my town, and my fayer wasn't so high for that. And i spent too much money tonight anyway. Throwing it all away was worth it. I got in, after i'd rang my mums mobile and had her answer the door for me at 4 am. Put those filthy shoes in my hallway. Came up the stairs. Tidied my ransacked room (when i'd gotten read for the club in 5 mins), and took a long hot shower. Washed the rain out my hair. But i swear i can still taste christophers kisses. He had healthy mouth breath. Thats my favourite smell and taste. It's something hard to put down in words. Like an afterscent on the breath.
Wanna know what the even more bomb shitzle thing is? I got a message from an unknown number on my 0% battery life left phone while in that taxi on the way home.. saying "sorry to fucking leave you out in the rain". I never fucking gave that guy my number. He'd still kept it from 4 years ago. When he met me in a moment i don't even remember. He could tell me my full name, my character traits and personality. And he still had my number stored.
Well damn mi darned socks. That was no night of coincidence.
Stay tuned for another episode of.. ionas mental world. xx
Signing out.
Is this how easy it is? To slip back into those old slippers?
Wore them a long time ago here. I bet all the old names are gone. Bet they all grew up and got jobs and decided not to be hardcore pretend dicks after all.
Anyway. I'm back. I think i'm using this place cos noone knows me here. Too many people know me in real life. I don't know what thats about because i'm actually a recluse. Unintentionally. I just don't have a life. Don't get out. I intend it to change. But i'm a divided person. Keep morally warring with myself which dictates my every day.
So tonight. Yeah lets get started on tonight.
I was in bed, bored as fuck. (I don't usually swear but i'm going to tonight. For syntax sake) So i was laying there with those eyes that i don't see anyone else get. A sort of tired ugly look that only i can achieve.
Massive puffed up eyes and mascara all under them. I was so exhausted. But i was fed up. Some mad MENTAL girl who's full on EATING my ex alive is currently at war with me through fake profiles she's made on facebook. My tendency is to block her each time. You know these southern girls who can't articulate and really need to get a guy and worship him because it's all they have. I think love is the greatest. The south has it right in establishing relationships as top priority. But the sheer lack of career motivation amongst girls in the south states of america leaves too much room for cat fights and straggly hair. I don't need that. So she's chasing me up even though i've not spoken to this (so much more than) best friend of 5 years, for a few months. At first it was highly interesting and amusing to see her talk. Like a specimen. But.. weirdly..
Yeah weirdly. Honestly... it's funny how our emotions are controlled by hormonal reactions outwith our logical control (great book to read which will teach you about this is "Emotional Intelligence" by Daniel Coleman. I 'found' that book in a charity shop by following Jesus exact "left... left .. right.. stop!" instructions. He literally told me exactly where to go in a massive library area of books. But i wasted His time and looked through them all for 20 minutes anyway. And it was STILL this one that i ended up with. Even though He told me to go straight to that number of that row on that table within seconds. Yeah. So.. weirdly enough we humans can't control our amygdalas too easily. And it leads us to react with impulse faster than logic.
This impulse made me hurt. Even though this mad mental ex'es girl is a right midden and needs none of my polished time. Because i'm disappointed that a kindred spirit of mine (a true fleck of my soul) has gone and relinquished me to resonate with her. We could have been something.. You know. Something real. I'm talking bonnie and clyde. He's different. And she's just a typical southern streak of insecure simpleness. She's probably actually nice. Just... seriously simple. I hate that.
So i'm there in my bed, scoring through tinder, with vocal commentary to every face i swipe no to. And it was dawning on me.. in that moment. .. that i'm just bored. I'm letting my youth slip by, STILL, to ... i have no fucking idea. I actually don't know which planet i've been on. But i'd had enough of it tonight. It dawned on me by the way she'd hurt me by providing a link between me and bubba, only to be an idiot link - deliberately talking ABOUT him to me, in actual embarrassing pride and ignorance *____* This actual base DNA carrying being who is like my second skin somewhere out there. And this .. secondary level human with only half layer thinking she's boss. Aw God. You know i can't be doing with that.
I was thinking. Why am i sitting in gaining amusement by this? Why am i waiting for her baited reply just to shred her insecurity a little bit further in? It's cos i'm bored. And i'm not in touch with my DNA counterpart out there any more.
These types have names. We were first donned as "lumiere". I was. By StrAngel. But he can go hang until he comes on his knees to me. I had to contemplate this title. He said it was because i was a light in the darkness. I began to understand his title for me. And i noticed how some people ARE lumieres. Auroras. Beacons. SOME people. Just SOME.
And those types are completely different from your average. Their lives are completely spotlighted with weird coincidence. As if they are being monitored or directed by metaphysical forces. They act in wisdom they don't know they hold. They do things they don't realize are massive butterfly effects to whole crowds of people. There's something about these individuals. They never chose to be this way. They just are. Chosen.
And we all have parts to play in this life. On this earth. So don't let anyone think less of you if you are a humble pilgrim who eases through and understands his moral conscience without needing to feel like being someone big. I am jealous of the content and 'normal' folk. I'm riddled with weird, affected experience. It's like my life is more puppeted by extreme forces than it is moved by me.
So i looked at my scruffy face and curl frizzled hair in the mirror tonight and said "yes" .. "you will go out.. you'll regret this if you don't". And i made myself call that taxi.. dress in simple nightclub gear, and i put my makeup on.. redid that face. I left the house THEN called my mum to tell her she had to babysit my one year old. I heard her arguments with me down the phone and told her i couldn't listen to her anymore. And from that moment on i was free.
Free to fucking exist in a place where noone knew me. Oh God it was refreshing.
Just the stupid, rave style music, DJ'd by someone who cared. The drinks and the dresses. People dressed up like they cared. But me being indistinguishable even among them. I came to the door without even having ID. I blagged my way in. I just lifted my arms up and looked to the front of that hall.. that massive room of people.. and zoned out to the music.
Infact if i take it back to the start i went upstairs and threw back 2 jager bombs and a vodka coke and watched some guy on acid dance in the rock room. Then i realized the barman was hitting on me.. and the music got too happy. So i left. I went downstairs.. and i moved in amongst the crowds to be my own person. And i loved it. Everything. The noise. The youth. The ignorance. The messy makeup. The fat on the girls. The curious singing of the guys. Every guy seemed to be singing.. howling into the air.
I loved it. And as if.. life is THAT easy. I found a group of people just like me.. all in a circle.. out of nowhere. The just opened the circle and adopted me in while i danced alone as if i were in phuket. And i noticed they all had THEE SHIT sense of humour. So i goaded them and played with until we were all howling too. We made moves and sang and acted out the seriousness of each song as if we were fucking amateur west end production christmas night out team. We DID it. Loved it.
What could go wrong with this night? I thought.. nothing.. as long as i wasn't a shit and let some pleb guide me into thinking they could steal my precious time. So that's why even though this bulgarian semi pretty boy found me and had eyes for me with some MAJOR affectionate dancing on the floor.. i refused his kisses multiple times and we ended up parting. But it was even fun when we danced. No regrets. He lifted me up so high above the sea of people. I'd pose and give royal waves and i had the time of it. Let him lift me so high, and dance with me, spinning me and pinning me. But i didn't like the way he just wanted to kiss without any connection. I hate that. Weak kisses.
You know what the teenage mutant ninja turtles swim past in the sewers when they're off to get a pepperoni pizza from splinter the rat in pipe 309? They fucking swim through jobbies and general water poured off boiled carrots, and other flushed nonsense like posh mens pee, and slobbers OH AND WEAK VOMMY KISSES FLOATING WORSE THAN SPORES OF MOULDY FAT.
Anyway. He left me so i was like.. clean break dude. Rejoice. And i bantered on my merry way. Took my time to check myself in the ladies toilets mirror. Jakester. My makeup had slidden, i virtually had no makeup by this point. I don't look pretty without makeup.
I'm being serious. I look like a haggis kilt wearing piece of shit. Compared to fucking max factor glasgow girls that is. Honestly. I don't know what planet i came from. So i was looking at my complete potato face, and complaining to the gals next to me, when some chubby ass cellulite fat pretty thing came up to me with a brown fake tan face and amazing hair, and told me repeatedly i looked beautiful. I didn't need QVC to order her chat - i was buyin it. She was just the thing i needed. Her little orange face and love, made me want to be orange too. And i thought.. yes.. i'm going to fake tan soon. My white, pale maiden skin has to go. I need to be wonderful and outrageous like her. She was trying to get me in the VIP lounge with her friends who were celebrating a bday. But i said.. "they're shocking"! She said they were all gay. They were all lifting each other off the floor and dirty dancing together. I was like..
I need another drink.
Meanwhile.. on this new floor, which wasn't the rock attic, or the main rave hall - it was the rnb hip hop room.. i was observing who was around me. And there were many plebs of fine fettle. So many. I looked around. I saw pleb after pleb. Some boys were even sitting in their alcove doing serious stunt worthy hand actions to rapper shit. I was like.. "What is this grotto den of hidden awesome wonkiness; of mice and men and IDIOTS that i transpire to meander through. What yonder window breaks." I still needed my drink.
I only wish i'd been able to give personal commendations and possibly dance with that ash blonde boy who was too effed to give a cocks crow as he sat in the corner of his booth and arm hand actioned his way into self sufficient paradise. But it was the other one, the actual eejit skitey big boy with serious intent who went for me and pretty much had me on him from them on. For the rest of the night. By this time it was about the last hour anyway.
We were just joking at the bar. By joking i mean.. throwing things everywhere and shouting and grabbing each others faces. He was so irritating, i couldn't get served. I was sobering up. I'd drank here and there throughout the night, but this was dismal. I was resorting to turning into a level 10 fool on him just to get things sped along and try regain some self preservation. But he wasn't on it. He was on me.
He kept telling me he worked for morgan stanley. Ok so he told me like one or two times within a few seconds to inform why he was out, but i rolled with it and went fucking mental in his face about morgan stanley. I know some other girl who works there. And i think there must have been some kind of sugar still in my veins, because i just created a riot with him and his homies about it. Whatever. I think he found it absolutely hilarious that i didn't give a shit who he was.
Good.
So then he probably asked about me. And i gave him nothing. I just kept getting irritated that i couldn't get a drink. By which time he'd called ME irritating, and was getting into me big time. Shut up. Piss off. I mean.. just don't turn out to be a fop, ok.
But he wanted to use his elite physical aggression to hit on me now. And he began to open up. I found this soooo weird.
I asked his name. He asked mine. I told him. Iona. But he didn't let on he knew more until some good few minutes had passed. And then he took me so aback. He told me my full name and that he'd met me 4 years ago.. for just a brief moment somewhere. He said "you're mega religious aren't you, you're into being holy". I was astounded. I was still taking the piss and generally acting like a ferret. But yeah.. he knew who i was and i couldn't pin point him. How had he met me? Surely i would have remembered him. 4 years ago?
He dragged me away from that bar, which had given us little reward, and we went back up to the rave hall. This time it was something else as an experience. We danced like we were hoodlum animals. We honestly owned the floor and had no decorum. I undid his belt and tried to rip open his jeans. I flashed my bra at one point too. He lifted me up over and over above the masses.. again. And he'd dry fuck me mid air with my legs round him as we messily kissed like two frogs doing time in jail. We made no sense. This kind of mess.. i get.
My shoes are downstairs in the hall right now. They're filthy. They prove what kind of a night i've had. It was awesome. Me and this Christopher boy were such high energy fools. Lumiere? I dunno. I don't think so. But don't you think it's weird that in a club .. on a random, rainy january night (I haven't been to this club for YEARS and decided tonight that i'd have enough waiting around shit), in glasgows sauchihall st of many many venues.. this stocky, brown eyed predator had all my background info, and recognized me as a girl he saw for only an hour or so before... that many years gone by. I asked him with a moment of sheer disbelief if he remembered everyone like this. And he said no.
So i ripped his face apart with kisses. And we drank more shots, and more vodka, and we scuffed about the floor in the middle of squirming, toppling mobs of youngsters. Aw i forgot to tell you what happened earlier on tonight. Hm.. do i have to get into that now? It gets so complicated. Ugh. My clothes were already pulled off by another guy i'm close to who i'd inadvertently made horny when we went out to the shopping mall together, I DIDN'T MAKE HIM HORNIE OKAYYYYIE, just because i was wearing a decent new bra which actually freaking supports my breasts for once. Boobs. That's all some men need. But claimed me to be sexy. And when he drove me home he used the ruse of putting my little one to bed to bed me. I never knew that's what he wanted until he closed my bedroom door and took me up against my bedroom wall.
You know.. i'd much rather that ex with the psycho girlfriend was my bed partner. We actually had chemistry. This guy is just like.. a sensible, handsomey looking, all round nice, mummys boy type needing mothered, over organised simple to please phd student. From england. You know the oxford lifestyle when it's leaked into working class wit. That mix. You know. But anyway.. i felt kinda hollow after that loving experience. Because he was utterly turned on and lost his mind on me.. but even after it was all done.. i wondered how he'd gotten away with it.. and why i never came. I never do with him. Even though i care. He's just not my prince. Not my rough DNA.
So back to me on the dancefloor with this morgan stanley guy. Christopher. I guess i was having flashbacks to earlier which motivated me to break free even more. We just both /wanted/ to let go.
And i could feel that Christopher was somewhere in the region now of actually caring about me protectively. I dunno.. i hugged him a few times. Hid my face in his neck between snaps of reality. And he played the male role.
And we scuffed about till the very end. We'd made every effort to be a menace of a duo within that closely populated edge of the dancefloor. the lights went up.. and we, like everyone else.. headed to the foyer and stairs, where streams of people who were LOUD began to congregated. When i say this was a scene, i mean it.. these people were absolutely HOWLING and CHANTING together. They sang SO many songs together in the stair well that you couldn't think or breathe. Christopher drunkenly repeated over and over that it wasn't safe. That it was too out of control. Every man was yelling into the air. All in waves of unison as new songs spread. It was weird. Staff had no chance in cooling it with them. Their voices and barrier arms were knocked and drowned out. On this rubbishy cold night.. did i experience something that never happens there? Was this a "moment" .. a memory? A moment in time that only those who were there can talk about now in awe, because it's never happened like that before, and wont again soon? I'm telling you, guys were filming it on their phones. There had to be hundreds of us, couldn't move, packed on the stairs. Stuck. Screaming and singing and stamping and chanting. I just wrapped christophers arms around me and focused out.
I had that oxymoronic return to innocence that i'd lost in the progression of the night. On the rock floor in the attic level, when i'd first walked in.. i'd stood with my drink by a barrel in a corner.. clapping to a group of girls dancing to metal music. Those same girls i'd spoken to later in the toilets.. i was showing one of them my boring cesarean scar which has ruined my body's looks i think. And obvs after that i got sweatier and sweatier till chris and i were smearing and wiping our pheromones away from each others temples. Slippy. But in that stairwell.. the sweat still there, he catered for me protectively, and my white cotton top symbolized my quietness and meekness in the face of this out of count crowd.
We stepped into the rain.
My small brown leather jacket, zipped right up to the neck like it was when i first stepped in the club. The rain heavily pelting through my loosed, messed hair.
And the pavements were strewn with all kinds of sodden, trodden figments of litter. Everything was washed and pulped to mere strands of things, on this densely packed street of people. You had to look where you stood on the uneven concrete slabs of pavement. Homeless people, flower sellers, drunk folk. Rammy. And i called the taxi driver who'd taken me in, on the personal number he'd given me when he first had me in his car. He swore he'd come back for me as soon as i'd call him. I was pretty impressed. He'd been a good, careless chat on the way there. So here was me, and christopher.. the guys friend, messing around on sauchihall st, waiting to get our taxis. And we were trying all to make sense of each other. And the queues kept forming and we kept getting into them, then stepping out of them and walking half a street away in one direction and half a street back. It was funny to mock general people watching situations at first, but then the rain drained me a bit, and i began to insist i had to stand at my waiting point. My battery was on 1% and had died already as i was revving it awake to make sure i'd get the call back from my taxi man (in his pimped up racer style car.. :/ ) So anyway.. christopher said he'd never see me again, he'd bet. And i was like... "till next time", cos they found their uber taxi after all that, and i insisted they get in and leave me be. Its nice to see a gent who cares. It should be the done thing, but it's nice to be able to turn down the offer because i know i'm in a good place security wise. So i let them go.
And i got in the racer car taxi. And he asked if he could pick up his friend on her way home from work too, and i was all cool with it. So a stripper waitress got in and talked to him all the way back to my town, and my fayer wasn't so high for that. And i spent too much money tonight anyway. Throwing it all away was worth it. I got in, after i'd rang my mums mobile and had her answer the door for me at 4 am. Put those filthy shoes in my hallway. Came up the stairs. Tidied my ransacked room (when i'd gotten read for the club in 5 mins), and took a long hot shower. Washed the rain out my hair. But i swear i can still taste christophers kisses. He had healthy mouth breath. Thats my favourite smell and taste. It's something hard to put down in words. Like an afterscent on the breath.
Wanna know what the even more bomb shitzle thing is? I got a message from an unknown number on my 0% battery life left phone while in that taxi on the way home.. saying "sorry to fucking leave you out in the rain". I never fucking gave that guy my number. He'd still kept it from 4 years ago. When he met me in a moment i don't even remember. He could tell me my full name, my character traits and personality. And he still had my number stored.
Well damn mi darned socks. That was no night of coincidence.
Stay tuned for another episode of.. ionas mental world. xx
Signing out.
How pleasant to see the old,
swept away.
Gone.
How sad you think you'd be
To see the smashed up debris
on the shingle.
Of it's haunted bay.
Ah.. no.
Alas! Breezes, fresh in unstained clarity,
carry the scent of adventures unseen.
And as for wreckage,
none...
The ghosts have gone.
And all is anew.
Let us build with stems of sapling bamboo! Upon the shore.
I race you to find some more!
Call to the Lost Boys!
She has returned!
swept away.
Gone.
How sad you think you'd be
To see the smashed up debris
on the shingle.
Of it's haunted bay.
Ah.. no.
Alas! Breezes, fresh in unstained clarity,
carry the scent of adventures unseen.
And as for wreckage,
none...
The ghosts have gone.
And all is anew.
Let us build with stems of sapling bamboo! Upon the shore.
I race you to find some more!
Call to the Lost Boys!
She has returned!
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