Wednesday, November 30, 2005

On Another Note...

Go here for some hilarities, c/o Sierrera (miss you!).
If I actually felt better, I might type some interesting occurrances from Las Vegas. Quite frankly, I feel like utter crap and I'm not even sure why I came to work today 'cept that I need the money (yep, good ol' clutch has finally started to slip) and really had nothing better to do. Mayhaps in the later-ons I will divulge some (and boy do I mean SOME) Vegas secrets, seeing as how the Loge-sters (aka Logan) got us all hooked up with the internet yesterday.
All looped up on DayQuil (WOO!),
~*~Raevyn Mystique~*~

Sounds Good To Me...

This movie was recommended to me via Myspace by a friend of mine... anyone interested in a SF trek to the movies?
http://www.redvicmoviehouse.com/show.php?pageid=249

Tuesday, November 22, 2005

Secession to Lust

Approach the hours of midnight doom,
Where eyes of lust control the room
And from the bowels of Society's gloom,
Innocent passion devours the womb.

A dark echo lullaby song
Fills sinful halls of every wrong
As Evil sharpens His final prong~
Each second outlasting eternities long.

Truth sees through the layers of flair,
Disguised as demons determined to scare
Who beckon with their hypnotic glare
For those wanting in to the mysterious lair.

With morals forgotten, the Angel lies cold~
Releasing the mind from Reality's hold.
Only now could a soul to the Devil be sold,
Transforming the weak into statues of gold.

The prison gates open without any heed,
Exposing Shadows of Chaos in chains to be freed.
The key to this liberty revolves with great speed
Once finished obtaining Humanity's greed.

Infinite fantasies will continue to rot,
For Dragon an Mermaid beliefs, there are not~
And Moon-Dancing Faeries are nearly forgot~
Until Creativity is encouraged in thought.

Lack of Imagination will leave Dreams bleak,
Saving space for later emotions to speak
Of seductive tangos from yesterday's sleek
Or the whip of zephyrs for tomorrow's meek.

The senses are organized and built on ties~
Study the shape with questioning eyes,
It guides lingering fingers to match sight and size...
Together Visual and Touch will reveal bluer skies.

Sensuality is shared without needing a sign,
Bringing euphoric caresses that feel wholly divine;
It crawls onto the flesh and down through the spine,
Weaving over both bodies like a creeping vine.

The tingling goodness from inside the core
Errupts in a flash with a satisfied roar.
Clouds of ecstasy never visited before
Unite these two beings in a heap on the floor.

To manipulate the realm, remember the flow:
The line that lies between friend and foe
Blurs at the edges to form status quo,
Suppressing the love that yearns to grow.

If anonymous masks of statuesque stone
Are removed, the vulnerable left standing alone,
Then Love's Embrace can take over the throne~
Inhibitions forced off of the road that is known.

To pick the right path can easily fail,
There are countless walls to the mental jail;
Each must collapse so Fate's Train can derail~
Waters of Destiny drowning what will entail.

Written by ~*~Raevyn Mystique~*~

Wednesday, November 16, 2005

Enjoy the Silence

She's on the ground, blonde hair a messy halo around her hidden face. You can't see any facial features or expressions, but you know exactly how she looks. Her troubled green eyes search frantically over the ground directly beneath her, searching for anything but the grey concrete that resides there. You're too far away to see anything but the smooth, hard surface. You're too far away to see what it she's looking for. She begins to shiver, her naked skin turning blue from the cold.

Precursor to the Dream

From House of Leaves, by Mark Z Danielewski:

I get a glass of water. I walk out into the hallway. That's a mistake. I should of stayed near people. The comfort of company and all that. Instead I'm alone, running through a quick mental check list: food poisoning? (stomach's fine) withdrawals? (haven't been on a gak or Ecstacy diet for several months, and while I didn't smoke any pot this morning-my usual ritual-I know THC doesn't create any lasting physical dependencies). And then out of the be-fucking-lue, everything gets substantially darker. Not pitch black, mind you. Not even power failure black. More like a cloud passing over the sun. Make that a storm. Though there is no storm. No clouds. It's a bright day and anyway I'm inside.
I wish that had been all. Just a slight decrease in illumination and a little breathing difficulty. Could still blame that on a blown fuse or some aberrant drug related flashback. But then my nostrils flare with the scent of something bitter & foul, something inhuman, reeking with so much rot & years, telling me in the language of nausea that I'm not alone.
Something's behind me.
Of course, I deny it.
It's impossible to deny.
I wanna puke.

To get a better idea, try this: focus on these words, and whatever you do don't let your eyes wander past the perimeter of this page. Now imagine just beyond your peripheral vision, maybe behind you, maybe to the side of you, maybe even in front of you, but right where you can't see it, something is quietly closing in on you, so quiet in fact you can only hear it as silence. Find those pockets without sound. That's where it is. Right at this moment. But don't look. Keep your eyes here. Now take a deep breath. Go ahead and take an even deeper one. Only this time as you start to exhale try to imagine how fast it will happen, how hard it's gonna hit you, how many times it will stab your jugular with its teeth or are they nails?, don't worry, that particular detail doesn't matter, because before you have time to even process that you should be moving, you should be running, you should at the very least be flinging up your arms-you sure as hell should be getting rid of this book-you won't have time to even scream.
Don't look.
I didn't.
Of course I looked.
I looked so fucking fast I should of ended up wearing one of those neck braces for whiplash.
My hands had gone all clammy. My face was burning up. Who knows how much adrenaline had just been dumped into my system. Before I turned, it felt exactly as if in fact I had turned and at that instant caught sight of some tremendous beast crouched off in the shadows, muscles a twitch from firing its great mass forward, ragged claws slowly extending, digging into the linoleum, even as its eyes are dilating, beyond the point of reason, completely obliterating the iris, and by that widening fire, the glowing furnace of witness, a camera lucide, with me in silhouette, like some silly Hand shadow twitching about upside down, is that right?, or am I getting confused?, either way registering at last the sign it must have been waiting for: my own recognition of exactly what has been awaiting me all along-except that when I finally do turn, jerking around like the scared-shitless shit-for-brains I am, I discover only a deserted corridor, or was it merely a recently deserted corridor?, this thing, whatever it had been, obviously beyond the grasp of my imagination or for that matter my emotions, having departed into alcoves of darkness, seeping into corners & floors, cracks & outlets, gone even to the walls. Lights now normal. The smell history. Though my fingers still tremble and I've yet to stop choking on large irregular gulps of air, as I keep spinning around like a stupid top spinning around on top of nothing, looking everywhere, even though there's absolutely nothing, nothing anywhere.
I actually thought I was going to fall, and then just as abruptly as I'd been possessed by this fear, it left me and I fell back into control.


These were the words I read before requesting sleep.
Then came the Dreams...



Wednesday, November 02, 2005

Happy New Year!

A day late, but not forgotten!

November the First marks one of two special days in Pagan history - the Celtic New Year. The Celts divided the year into two seasons: one of Light and one of Dark (you can just as easily say that it was divided into four quarters so as to include Imbolc and Lughnasadh). Beltane is celebrated in the early summer (May 1st) and Samhain (say "Sah-Wane") is celebrated in the early winter (November 1st). Just as the Celtic day begins with the night, the Celtic year begins with Samhain, when the cycle is renewed. Whereas Beltane welcomes in the summer with dawn celebrations, the most magically potent time of this festival is November Eve, the night of October 31st (known today of course, as Halloween).

The Celts were influenced principally by the lunar and stellar cycles which governed the agricultural year - beginning and ending in autumn when the crops have been harvested and the soil is prepared for the winter.

In Scots Gaelic, Samhain literally means “summer's end.” With the rise of Christianity, Samhain was changed to Hallowmas, or All Saints' Day, to commemorate the souls of the blessed dead who had been canonized that year - so the night before became popularly known as Halloween or All Hallows Eve. November 2nd became All Souls Day, when prayers were to be offered to the souls of all departed and those who were waiting in Purgatory for entry into Heaven. Throughout the centuries, Pagan and Christian beliefs intertwine in a gallimaufry (yep, GRE word put to use! Woo!) of celebrations from Oct 31st through November 5th, all of which appear to challenge the ascendancy of the dark and to revel in its mystery.

Samhain was also a time for contemplation. Death was never very far away, yet to die was not the tragedy it is in modern times. Of signal importance to the Celts was to die with honor and to live in the memory of the tribe and be honored at the great feast (in Ireland this would have been the Fleadh nan Mairbh (Feast of the Dead)) which took place on Samhain Eve.

This was the most magickal time of the year - Samhain was the day that didn't exist! At night, the great shield of Skathach was lowered, allowing the barriers between the worlds to fade and the forces of chaos to invade the realms of order, the material world conjoining with the world of the dead. At this time, the spirits of the dead and those yet to be born walked with the living. The dead could return to the places where they lived and food and entertainment were provided in their honor. This aspect of the festival was never totally subdued by Christianity.

In the three days preceding the Samhain month the Sun God, Lugh, dies by the hand of his Tanist (his other self, the Lord of Misrule). Lugh traverses the boundaries of the worlds on the first day of Samhain. His Tanist is a miser and though he shines brightly in the winter sky, he gives no warmth and does not temper the breath of the Crone, the north wind. This may be discerned as the ageless battle between light and dark and the cyclic nature of life and the seasons.

When the Romans made contact with the Celts, they added their feast of the dead to Samhain. The Christians subverted the recognition of Samhain to honor the saints, as All Saint's Day on November 1st and named October 31 as All Hallow's Eve. This later became a secular holiday by the name of Hallowe'en. Although using different nomenclatures, all of these festivals and feasts are celebrating the accessibility, veneration, awe, and respect of the dead.

Source cited: Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia

So, Happy New Year, everybody!

Blessed Be,
~*~Raevyn Mystique~*~