lasserina's Xanga

Pain

Mon, 04 Feb 2008 02:31:19 GMT

Sorry I've been gone for a few days. I wrote this, in free verse, to explain my absence.

Pain

Blinding headache

Condensation behind my eye

Each drop hurts more than the last

Almost more than I can endure

Nauseating swell

Not big enough for wretched relief

Not small enough to subside

Just enough to be sure it’ll reoccur

Not the burning. The searing throb

No, please no more.

My back, hips. . .knees? Now my neck?

You bastard! For what must I atone?!

What must I do for you to quit?

I’m doing everything I’m supposed to do.

Leave me alone, please. . .

Leave my whole family alone.

I try not to wake you.

Not to irritate or anger you.

I walk on eggshells, crawl on glass and lie on nails

What else must I do in your name?

You have assimilated me.

Who would I be without you?

You’re a part of my identity now.

Hi, my name is Missy, and I am in pain.

All these years, like an abused wife

Afraid to do anything that may wake you

Structuring my life around your moods

In fear you may rear your angry head and yell.

I hate the pills, the fucking pills

And treatments that work only to later fail

Go ahead bring on what’s next you punk

Have no fear that I will fight you in hell!

Sweetheart, I know the baby needs changed.

No, I didn’t pull anything out for dinner.

Yes, the laundry and dishes are piled very high

I’m sorry

I know you’re not mad.

I know you understand,

But, I don’t.

I’m sorry

You didn’t sign up for this.

Thank you for your patience, and love.

You don’t deserve this, and just remember

I’m sorry

What do you see in the Mirror?

Wed, 23 Jan 2008 01:28:50 GMT

This is a challange to any who feel up to it, a free verse explanation. . .

"What do you see in the Mirror?"

Tag me and let me know what you've come up with!

Grey

Is appearance more important than the reality within?

I can’t remember if I’m seeing awareness or just an illusion.

Pull your shoulders back, stiffen and straighten!

So much deception is inside that reflection.

I talk to her in tones quite eerily hushed.

My hair is starting to go grey, but it looks very nice when it is brushed.

Did my appearance change the moment you knew me?

Not quite attractive, but not hideous and ugly.

When I look like someone you might not have noticed previously.

Terrified at being undisguised, I am comforted in the obscurity.

My cheeks are no longer a cherubic rosy but are woman-like flushed.

My hair is starting to go grey, but it looks very nice when it is brushed.

I accept I don’t look the sort of woman of which I consist.

I can not change for anyone in my midst.

I fear my sanity is maturing with a delightfully eccentric twist.

With madness, I most certainly have been sweetly kissed.

My image hides the cerebral wounds of when my mind was anguished.

My hair is starting to go grey, but it looks very nice when it is brushed.

I have an unusual appearance for a woman so unsure.

Ah. . but my face is my own and not for your pleasure.

Do not start to look, you will find no concealed treasure.

Intentions shift with the certainty of time’s passing and departure.

My voice has never existed to be shushed.

My hair is starting to go grey, but it looks very nice when it is brushed.

I want to hide my eyes for fear they are a breach to what I’m about.

Perpetually knowing that someday I will be found out.

The schematics of my mind painfully revealed throughout

Except for the intrusive mirror, I am a stranger no doubt.

My face has changed much and with small lines it has been touched.

My hair is starting to go grey, but it looks very nice when it is brushed.

I have forgotten how to apply most makeup, I don’t care to remember how.

And I don’t want to be excruciatingly conspicuous now.

Not young, not old and over the last years, too fleshy somehow.

Even I must look at this truthful double with a raised eyebrow.

My beauty and essence are locked away, safe and within my soul they are clutched.

My hair is starting to go grey, but it looks very nice when it is brushed.

Simple Pleasures

Wed, 16 Jan 2008 03:50:32 GMT

Kween_of_the_Queens put out a fun challenege. To simply state your favorite simple pleasures.

Oh yes. This is going to get sappy.

Simple Pleasures

When someone says, “what do you think?”
If someone smiles when I walk into the room.
A child trying to tell you something when they are excited and jubilant or when you tech them something and the “get it.”
When my husband reads to me in bed. Especially when I’m not feeling well.
My children all home and at my dinner table.
The Sunday morning Quaker Friends Meeting
Watching my grown sons playing with their 2 year-old sister.
Meditating
Remembering or telling stories my grandparents (who have both passed away) told me.
Finishing a really good book that you wished wouldn’t end.
Getting a good review of something I wrote from someone I respect.
My husband’s enthusiastic support of MY dreams.
Watching children in sports, plays, and concerts or exhibiting their work. Then, seeing their own pride for what they have accomplished.
Making new friends.
Driving through my town. (a tiny foothill community just outside Sequoia National Park. A river runs through it.)
A big deep bathtub, hooked up to a gigantic water heater.
A big huge soft bed with a ton of pillows and a sea of handmade quilts on fresh cotton sheets.
The feeling you get when you’ve helped, but not enabled someone.
Sewing, cooking, gardening, painting, crafting.
Having time to drift all over Xanga.
The smell of the Giant Forest or the Pacific Ocean.
Jumping into the river when it’s over 100 outside.
Having my home completely clean and the family’s laundry done.
Watching a well made documentary.
Waking up from a surgery and seeing my mother standing over me.
Picking, preparing, serving and eating veggies and fruits I’ve grown myself.
Nursing my babies.
Reading The Darwin Awards
Getting my magazines or a package in the mail.
Knowing that my husband will never make a choice without putting me and our family first.
Looking at my daughter and seeing my husband's happy eyes.

A simply complex pleasurable occurrence

      I have some physical problems right now that I am hoping will be alleviated after surgery next month. There are times, especially in the wee hours of the morning, when the pain is very bad. My husband, regardless of how early he has to get up for work, will calm me. He does this by rubbing whatever is hurting and talking to me, even if I tell him to roll over and go back to sleep.
     In some backward way, even when I'm experiencing physical pain, I find pleasure in his care and kindness. I find pleasure in the intimacy of these difficult moments. I find a deep pleasure in his love.

I Remember
.25 Candy Bars
Puff 'n Stuff, Electra Woman & Dyna Girl, and Sigmond the Sea Monster
.99 gas
leg warmers
the "every six months" perm
going to my moms work one weekend because she was excited to show me the new computer. . .that filled the whole room!
MTV when MTV actually played music,
Show box cell phones
Betamax
returnable bottles
Zip-Around Rag City Blues
Dittos
Rainbow shirts - The rainbow went across the arms and chest.
Combs (or roach clips) with feathers and beads that we wore in our hair.
EDIT
Remember what we had before the new self tanners?? It was called QT or (short for quick tan) QT2. It turned you ORANGE. Not a shade of qorange, but PUMPKIN ORANGE!!! it went well with what Sun In did to my brown hair! I Looked like an oompa loompa!

Monday, January 14, 2008

Mon, 14 Jan 2008 13:36:57 GMT

Below is my version of an EAT PRAY LOVE-ish petition, like the one Liz wrote in her book.

Please read sign if you feel I am deserving of these requests.

Petition to the Universe

January 13, 2008

Dear Universe,

I am petitioning the Universe to open door wide for me so I can get on with my life.

I want petition for the opportunity to be thin, healthy and pain free, as well as authentic and confident.

I want to petition the universe for insight and awareness of myself and my surroundings.

I want to petition to be able to clearly see, understand and take advantage of opportunities as they are presented to me.

I want to petition for an exciting life of satisfying employment, travel and a long life of comfortable financial security.

I want to petition for my children to find their first steps in this world and for them to feel motivated to follow their dreams.

I want to petition the universe to grant my husband and children the same confidence, authenticity and personal opportunities that I request for myself.

Melissa

Please feel free to copy all or part of this petition for your own Xanga. I'll sign yours. If you wish these things for me, please sign with your name, screen name or mark in the comments for me!

Night in Amore

Wed, 07 Nov 2007 00:30:21 GMT

At first, he was evil and unknown, all I ever feared as a child. . . . so troubled

He is comfort now and with fear I’m no longer concerned

My sincere responses are tenderly learned.

Diminished, I anticipate calming, fueled by this silent resurrection

A re-born disciple, each time he accepts my aching invitation

Absorbed in the security that he will infiltrate my inner sanctum.

Sacred, passionate, faithful, a mundane anomaly

Fiercely I protect my aloneness, yet his arrival I welcome and embrace

And as always with the dawn I grieve his inevitable exodus made in haste.

Sheathed by him, the wild thoughts dance and my mind becomes prolific and fertile

My offering, a battle-raw soul and the combat wounds achieved

Willingly I suspend sleep for a union to bring something conceived.

I wait for his validation and to be seduced and inspired and soothed and humble

The only consistent thing this life has ever noted

He is wholly and unconditionally devoted.

A sultry unification of indefinable shadows

An aura of sounds trumpet the enchanting ritual has begun

Swathed in the otherworld and only concluding with the penetration of the sun.

I have an intimate knowing of his antediluvian rites

I am his voyeur, I painfully, lovingly study his stealth and activity

He is ambiguous to most, but not to me.

I watch him and know him

I study his silent changes and discover his intimate details and essence

Is that why he gives me unconditional acceptance?

I curl tighter into his kindness, his serenity, his calm

Blessed friend, confidante and sentinel of light

I need no words to impart my plight.

He just knows

Faithful hours of darkness,. . .my shelter from the wickedness of vulnerability

His exaltation is grounded on one sweet honor; his unshakeable, angelic dependability.

Monday, November 05, 2007

Mon, 05 Nov 2007 12:57:17 GMT

Savior

To be mad is to be ordinary and she conforms to the role.

It’s never tranquil in her cold mind, all starless and bible black.

Could God really damn a poor lunatic's soul?

There's a dark side to each human that wants to take control.

She tried to escape but the runaway train was already upon it’s track

To be mad is to be ordinary and she conforms to the role.

At no point in her endless talk and incoherent scroll,

Is she ever close to anything that has a rational smack?

Could God really damn a poor lunatic's soul?

She knows the darkness is her’s, she owns it outright and whole.

Somewhere outside her body she’s about to tumble into the deepest crack .

To be mad is to be ordinary and she conforms to the role.

To be terrified of the dark and now there is only night with no midnight coal.

That familiar voice desperately screams her own name without hesitancy or slack.

Could God really damn a poor lunatic’s soul?

She walked the edge of that infinite abyss, the eternal manhole,

And finally she’s fallen, no angel was there to catch her or watch her back.

To be mad is to be ordinary and she conforms to the role.

Could God really damn a poor lunatic’s soul?

Tuesday, October 02, 2007

Tue, 02 Oct 2007 03:43:10 GMT

Some Favorite Words of Wise People

Whoopi Goldberg:

When you are kind to someone in trouble, you hope they'll remember and be kind to someone else. And it'll spread like wildfire.

Seneca:

Wherever there is a human being, there is an opportunity for kindness.

Publilius Syrus:

You can accomplish by kindness what you cannot by force.

Ralph Waldo Emerson:

You cannot do a kindness too soon, for you never know how soon it will be too late.

Caroline Kennedy Schlossburg:

As much as we need a prosperous economy, we also need a prosperity of kindness and decency.

Albert Schweitzer:

At times our own light goes out and is rekindled by a spark from another person.

Each of us has cause to think with deep gratitude of those who have lighted the flame within us.

Plato:

Be kind, for everyone you meet is fighting a harder battle.

Elizabeth Bibesco:

Blessed are those who can give without remembering and take without forgetting.

Arabian proverb:

Blessed is he who speaks a kindness; thrice blessed is he who repeats it.

Rant

Fri, 21 Sep 2007 12:03:39 GMT

A couple months ago, Henry Rollins asked his viewers to video a rant. He listed several questions. I wrote out my response, but was unwilling to video myself. So. . .the question I picked was. . .

"Is America Dumb?"

In our country, there are many, many people that think

That credit cards are your friends, that global warming does not really effect us and it’s a good idea to talk on cell phone and drive.

Public school lunch programs are turned over to the lowest bidder who in turn feed our children sugary, salty and fat laden crap while doing away with physical education.

Our country believes standardized testing is a good Idea and that anything that inspires a child’s soul, like music and the arts are expendable.

But even more brilliant, is the insane fight to make science teachers renounce evolution or teach it along side the magical myth of intelligent design which is anything but intelligent.

And if our children do go to college, they will more than likely end up owing their soul to the company store, better known as Sallie Mae.

In this country there are millions of Walmartians, who vote against their interests; because they have been trained to salivate like Pavlov’s dogs at the word God; and in their heart of hearts, believe that GW and the Neo-conservatives can get them a little bit closer to heaven.

Most people in this country don’t even care about American politics, but are pseudo- aghast at African atrocities when a celebrity deems it important.

Without noticing the turmoil in our own country, send money overseas.

And even then, it only becomes important if you can get a pair of overpriced sunglasses in the deal.

Our hypocritical leader arrogantly lies, has alienated us from the rest of the world and is unembarrassed by his superior ability to annihilate the English language.

We live in a country that fears Janet Jackson’s boob, worships Paris Hilton and believe that fox news really is “fair and balanced;” and that okay to torture, sometimes

Hey, America . . . I really love you . . . but look at my thumb. . .

Friday, September 21, 2007

Fri, 21 Sep 2007 11:58:51 GMT

A comment was left on my rant, asking why I left off Brittney Spears. Let me explain;

First understand, I LOVE children. I advocate for children. But the infant and toddler in their care, well, I am so saddened to feel that they don't have a preacher's prayer in hell of being raised with any semblance of normalcy.

A parent's mental illness and addiction are things that will destroy children. She gave the family court judge, and her children the one-finger salute when she walked in to those bars. A greedy father is just the icing on the dysfunctional cake. If he is the better parent, well, that speaks for itself.

In the age out of control Hollywood, one thing can be said about Miss BS, She had actually worked for her money. K-Fed is just one of the nasty things about Fresno. Yuck.

I don’t think she is malicious, just used. It’s a tragic and sad. I feel the same way about Lindsay Lohan. It’s just tragic. When you surround yourself with “yes-people,” who allow you to believe you a genius who never has a bad idea or thought, just so they can suck on the proverbial money teet, your view of the world and your place in it becomes quite skewed and absurdly distorted. These girls are self-destructive.

I use Janet Jackson because there was so much ridiculous outrage in seeing her nipple. I cringe at Paris Hilton, who has never worked a day in her life and she has no talent what so ever. She is a celebrity for no other reason than her family's wealth. Little girls worship this porn star. She is quite worthless (figuratively) as far as I’m concerned. These things are sad for our country. Britney is just sad.

Monday, September 17, 2007

Mon, 17 Sep 2007 19:03:44 GMT

Savior

To be mad is to be ordinary and she conforms to the role.

It’s never tranquil in her cold mind, all starless and bible black.

Could God really damn a poor lunatic's soul?

There's a dark side to each human that wants to take control.

She tried to escape but the runaway train was already upon it’s track

To be mad is to be ordinary and she conforms to the role.

At no point in her endless talk and incoherent scroll,

Is she ever close to anything that has a rational smack?

Could God really damn a poor lunatic's soul?

She knows the darkness is her’s, she owns it outright and whole.

Somewhere outside her body she’s about to tumble into the deepest crack .

To be mad is to be ordinary and she conforms to the role.

To be terrified of the dark and now there is only night with no midnight coal.

That familiar voice desperately screams her own name without hesitancy or slack.

Could God really damn a poor lunatic’s soul?

She walked the edge of that infinite abyss, the eternal manhole,

And finally she’s fallen, no angel was there to catch her or watch her back.

To be mad is to be ordinary and she conforms to the role.

Could God really damn a poor lunatic’s soul?