tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-64756649144613928832024-02-18T21:36:55.375-08:00 Your Smoke is Blocking my Rainbowthe ramblings of the seaThe Sea Wytchhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01929257500485502207noreply@blogger.comBlogger32125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6475664914461392883.post-67603922597638822452016-02-23T17:03:00.000-08:002016-02-23T17:03:55.146-08:00Who are we?Are we a conscious mass made up of our experiences? If you hadn't went parking with Connie Cardova in the 11 grade would you be less spontaneous now? If you hadn't gotten into that fist fight with the guy from math class in the 5th grade would you be more meek and less of a predilection for fighting? Do all of our actions have a lifetime of reactions?<br />
<br />
Are we simply products of our environment? Civilized people living in a civilized society. Except for that one strange neighbor that's up at all hours building weird shit in his garage because no one told him not to do drugs as a kid.<br />
<br />
Once you think you know who you are and finally pick a path to becoming the best you you can imagine, is it easier to continue even when faced with things you know aren't right then to admit the direction you've chosen is wrong? Stick to your guns, keep the course.<br />
<br />
But then... but then we are what people see we are. I see you, eyes and knees and heart I SEE you! But even then I see people all day and I don't know them. I could know someone for a year and still not have an absolute perception of them.<br />
<br />
We evolve every day, some times so fast we can't even keep up with ourselves how can we expect someone else much less EVERYONE else to keep up. Change is change is change when you hear "People never change" that's bullshit. It's the only thing we do without even trying.The Sea Wytchhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01929257500485502207noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6475664914461392883.post-26710888292449076172015-11-16T08:22:00.000-08:002015-11-16T08:22:53.718-08:00November GhostsThis year after Samhain the veil is thinner then it's ever been for me, for us. I don't know what happened in the past year to open my senses to so much more but so much has happened we have a list on the fridge to add to. Guen and I are getting hit hard this year, whispers, flickers out of the corner of the eye, people walking down the hallway when no one else is home, something repeatedly unclasping my necklace.<br />
<br />
<br />
I saw someone. Full bodied, standing behind me in the bathroom mirror. Hair color, eye color, expression, everything. I didn't have my glasses on so of course I question what I saw but it was clear, too clear. I spun around and no one was there, I spun back and it was just me. With no experience in this I instantly started crying and panic attacking.<br />
<br />
I understand that spirits are here all the time. I understand they can be seen, will be seen, choose to be seen. It's a little different understanding it and KNOWING it.<br />
<br />
I'm not looking for any advise on how to cleanse my house or close my mind or helping them cross over or protection blah blah blah. This isn't my first Witchy rodeo, trust me.<br />
<br />
What I wanna know is, have YOU seen like truly SEEN someone who isn't there. Had a physical encounter where something in this reality was altered or moved by something not tangible and you saw it. And how do you accept and or embrace what's happening. And how do you ensure yourself you aren't loosing you mind? And with the blinds removed and spectral filters dissolved what effect does that have on everything else? Because sometimes I feel like I'm overwhelmed from the inside out and I feel things more intensely and I see intentions and I can feel cause and effect in peoples questions and situations. I mean I always could which helped me read tarot but I don't need the cards anymore, I can read people and see their darkness and feel their design. And what's scarier is I can see mine as well, too clear for anyone to be allowed to see themselves.<br />
<br />
I hadn't realized all this has been happening till right this second but once I thought about it it all has been happening in the past month or so. Will it close with the veil? Do I want it to?The Sea Wytchhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01929257500485502207noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6475664914461392883.post-66156902221332392122015-04-22T00:52:00.000-07:002016-02-23T17:05:33.769-08:00<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">When nothing makes sense.. <span style="font-size: small;">and everything hurts</span>.<br /><br /> Find the flaky ends of the scab and peel until you're raw and shiny. </span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br />Pour in the salt, one crystal at a time. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Somewhere deep underneath is the old familiar ache that hurts so good.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"> Give it a good lashing. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Then slowly rinse the salt and apply the band-aid and watch the sinew and bone knit itself into a beautiful scar... waiting for you till next time. </span></div>
The Sea Wytchhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01929257500485502207noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6475664914461392883.post-62059830331658450552015-01-09T15:11:00.003-08:002015-01-09T15:11:56.709-08:00Unrequited <!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
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Unrequited…<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>alone
this word is sad, melancholic, monstrous, soul cracking. But then you pair it
with affection, attention, love, and it becomes life changing.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Whether you are just stepping into the chasm of oblivious
responses and unrecognized sincerity or you’ve been trudging this path for
years of unthanked attentions it still feels the same. Just somehow older and
deeper and it crawls through your entire being, gnawing at your intelligent notions
of right and wrong, do and don’t. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The thing about this lowest of base emotions is how acutely
it effects everyone who is in arm’s length. How can the sound of love falling
over a cliff and breaking at the bottom be heard by everyone around but not the
intended? I think this is false. I think the intended nearly always hears their
unloved hearts break. But in having no intension of returning such a fierce need
the most humane road is to ignore it. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
As the giver it’s enough to ache your chest and disrupt your
dreams, manifest into beautifully imagined futures. Once it’s been built so
high the louder the fall when reality takes hold and the pounding in your ears
is literally your dreams crashing in your mind. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
As the receiver… no one talks about that though. The receiver
is supposed to be dense to it. A smiling friend. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A trusted confidant. A silent coward.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
As the observer, watching the most fucked up action of the
human heart is uncomfortable and disconcerting. </div>
The Sea Wytchhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01929257500485502207noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6475664914461392883.post-72730271453403796922013-11-04T10:19:00.002-08:002013-11-04T10:25:05.499-08:00I'm made of the UniverseI'm still trying to find that niche that I'll feel completely comfortable in here. I try to be existential and decide I don't need to be put in a niche but floating around on the outside of everyone's reality isn't working. Just a tiny ledge in the mountain to grasp a true concept of the texture of this place. My number is still vibrating in the desert and is twining like a tuning fork out here. I'm almost afraid once I resonate I will lose something that I didn't even know I had and wont ever be able to get it back.<br />
<br />
We all have people, our family and friends, and when they look at you you can see yourself in them, in their eyes, mannerisms, tone, energy. I never once considered what would happen if I took almost all of that away. If I can't see myself reflected back sometimes I forget what it was I was supposed to be. I should have my personal code ingrained in me by now that I should never lose sight of what I'm made of...<br />
<br />
<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4oGzHCZ6cQ88SQrGudbbKBPs8CQ3aua4OUUvtZnyzfRdx9l9rjXYA5UG06RrG9tBHzkRYWxKHAqOiv8zYHGuuRlFhoxbD-bgMgMQo6gV3VWn3FCmduzUPAB6-H0WWhsADIWRnBXIh0-I/s1600/Galaxy-Star-Planet-Universe.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4oGzHCZ6cQ88SQrGudbbKBPs8CQ3aua4OUUvtZnyzfRdx9l9rjXYA5UG06RrG9tBHzkRYWxKHAqOiv8zYHGuuRlFhoxbD-bgMgMQo6gV3VWn3FCmduzUPAB6-H0WWhsADIWRnBXIh0-I/s640/Galaxy-Star-Planet-Universe.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
The Sea Wytchhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01929257500485502207noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6475664914461392883.post-74967538698604963492013-10-17T10:22:00.000-07:002013-10-17T10:22:24.568-07:00Work?Is it my internal clock... or the blessed sky light?? I think the latter, I wake up at 9am every day, no matter if I got home at midnight and stayed up till 2am spending time with my honey... 9am, get up!!<br />
<br />
Which is good, great actually. I've never been one for mornings. Instead of throwing the covers over my head I succumb to the reality of normality and wake up. Because now there are choices to make.<br />
<br />
For years, probably too many, I didn't really have to make time choices. If I wanted to do 20 things in one day I did them all, with time as my bitch. I never had to choose what was more important or satisfying, and I could always sleep in the next day.<br />
<br />
I know it's only been a few weeks but I am totally digging this prioritizing, choosing, and energy. I feel... that's right I said it, I feel rejuvenated and very wake. When time was my bitch I abused her and threw so much of her away. Now, everything counts... everything. If it takes 5 minutes to help Guen with her chores so she wont be so stressed out I'm so doing it. An hour to kill, decorate, sweep, listen.<br />
<br />
I like it. Not that my jobs are grand or anything but I am appreciating the sun and the moon and the clock. I miss the lazy minutes, and the never ending moments with the kids. Them knowing I am ALWAYS there, every minute. And sometimes I think that what I'm making working is in no way worth the moments I'm missing at home, but then I remember that this is what I want and it's agreeing with me. The Sea Wytchhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01929257500485502207noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6475664914461392883.post-79515078049079437012013-09-25T09:49:00.001-07:002013-09-25T09:49:33.732-07:00Pick me Pick me!!<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEga7GomdeMR7AaiNSrbh7I5_pmYmVVb1t_ISRr9R-fAAjr5T_w4mCq-naqZiYO_nzDr_E89OpjcNJnE6acyw16kxhMFwrVsFxNvg5FuC1aunLhF0Hbg_AIxW-3LKY-NBzL35WW31WP9Wa4/s1600/Job-Interview-Tips-and-advice.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="214" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEga7GomdeMR7AaiNSrbh7I5_pmYmVVb1t_ISRr9R-fAAjr5T_w4mCq-naqZiYO_nzDr_E89OpjcNJnE6acyw16kxhMFwrVsFxNvg5FuC1aunLhF0Hbg_AIxW-3LKY-NBzL35WW31WP9Wa4/s320/Job-Interview-Tips-and-advice.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
I have a third interview tomorrow. I can't decide if job interviews give more hope or less. Getting ready for the interview you're all 'Hellz yea I'm gonna nail this shit!' When you don't get the job your kind of all... huh. Even a job in interviews is better then nothing I guess. I can only keep myself entertained for so long...The Sea Wytchhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01929257500485502207noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6475664914461392883.post-33619327842474928242013-09-01T22:38:00.000-07:002013-09-01T22:38:02.304-07:00Never regret...Things that got broken and you didn't care enough to mend them...<br />
<br />
People that slipped through your conscience and you never stopped them from drowning...<br />
<br />
The parts of you that you were most proud of but left them behind anyway...<br />
<br />
That bittersweet love that still aches in a melancholy from the past kinda way...<br />
<br />
The silly dreams that blew away for tangible realities...<br />
<br />
Wasted Saturdays that were the best days you can remember...<br />
<br />
Flying off the handle too harshly, you're human...<br />
<br />
Never apologies, never forget.The Sea Wytchhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01929257500485502207noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6475664914461392883.post-73567310798340495092013-04-14T23:56:00.000-07:002013-04-14T23:56:13.478-07:00TimeI have subconsciously, or not so subconsciously, been keeping a 'before I move bucket list' in my mind. And quite literally things add to it every day. See this person, go to this place, eat this, feel this, watch that. I suppose I should start writing it down or I'll never do it all in time.<br />
<br />
Time is a tricky bitch.<br />
<br />
81 days<br />
<br />
The Sea Wytchhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01929257500485502207noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6475664914461392883.post-11834114454900549712012-11-01T14:15:00.002-07:002012-11-01T14:15:36.634-07:00Gratitude <!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
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In the 9 years that we have lived in our house in the middle
of the desert , this was the very best year for Trick or Treating. We ran out
of candy and everything. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This was
probably one of the best Halloweens I’ve had in a long time, complete with a
stolen pumpkin. </div>
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In true scary movie fashion right before bed our phone and
internet went out. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Right before I
decided I needed a shower **insert Halloween theme here** The sensible me
thinks ‘We all have cell phones I’ll call AT&T in the morning.’ The
Halloween in me thinks ‘I’m gonna start getting calls on my cell phone coming
from INSIDE THE HOUSE!’ And the 2012 me thinks ‘NO INTERNET???? Till tomorrow??
How did people live like this?’ Of course Himself has already passed out and is
oblivious to my Jan Brady<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>conversation
with myself. Well, I survived the night and I’m waiting for the technician as I
type… in Word… with no internet.</div>
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Every year October is a crazy busy high tension month.
Parties, rituals, costumes, sacrifices (just kidding), decorating, festivals,
pumpkins, all culminating to the emotional drain of Samhain. All of these
things over years and years finally took its toll on me last Halloween in the
form of a massive holiday break down. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>(Everyone
in my house says they don’t remember. I’m pretty sure they blocked it out) So
this year I decided to take a different approach to my favorite month. No
party. Simple ritual. Fun with the kids. Birthday dinner at my favorite restaurant.
Minimal decorating. And mostly enjoying the wind change from scorching heat to
sweet chill and enjoying the people around me. I think this is the gratitude I’m
supposed to feel just after Samhain. </div>
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Happy Day of the Dead</div>
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Aché<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; mso-fareast-language: ZH-CN;"></span></div>
The Sea Wytchhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01929257500485502207noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6475664914461392883.post-56279843975580049372012-10-07T22:33:00.000-07:002012-10-08T22:21:45.235-07:00Destiny - first leftI used to think, or I would tell people I thought, because it usually sparked some type of discussion, that no matter what choices you made you would always end up right where you were meant to. That destiny won out over free will, every time. I mean if you believe in astrology to some degree you are saying that no matter what you have some pre-programmed software that is beyond your intent and left unchecked is your immediate responds to situations and emotions. Therefore you are predestined to act in such a way that you did not get to pick. Unless you are of the thought that you yourself are responsible for your time, place and manner of your birth. Picking this flesh body to travel though this lifetime of circumstances to teach you what is you need to know. Then you wouldn't really believe in destiny at all would you? It was your choice from the very beginning, the very second you had conscious thought was of your own design.<br />
<br />
So where 'fate' or 'destiny' having placed you in the skin you are in is replaced with choice.<br />
<br />
And every choice there after lays out the road map that you travel. This to me seems rather clumsy.<br />
<br />
An entire world of people bumping into each other accidentally. I choose to go left today instead of right and I met the person of my dreams. I go right instead of left and meet no one at all and spend forever alone. Our lives would be a vault of missed connections and happenstance. With no check point to come back to, no save spots and no end game. Just left or right.<br />
<br />
I think it might be both. I think there are connections that are made no matter what. I believe they transgress time and space. Connections made lifetime after lifetime. I believe that you can love someone a thousand different times and find them again and again. I believe you can hate someone a thousand different times until you are right in your soul with it enough to not hate anymore. But the ways we get there, the roads we travel are of our own design. And if we are brave enough to take chances and make hard choices the possibility of experiencing the life we choose to have from the second we could breath broadens beyond our small ideas of ourselves and into what we knew from the first moment of life to be our full potential. <br />
<br />
Big choices are scary, that's a hard left and the option to go right is gone forever.<br />
<br />
<br />The Sea Wytchhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01929257500485502207noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6475664914461392883.post-91555876904697872142012-08-23T10:50:00.001-07:002012-09-06T03:05:01.986-07:00San MiguelGoing back, turning the corner. That's where the mean girl lived, my old bus stop. I used to baby sit there... and there. Snobby people lived there. Creeping to a stop, high curbs, over grown lawns, chipping paint...<br />
<br />
That tree is 23 years old, I watched them plant it. When my house was a skeleton of wood and nails, laying fresh sod then new carpet, wet paint. New neighbors, a new life. A saturnine life, restricted and tight. Can't move, can't breathe, can't live. Years and years of running down the stairs, answering the door, opening the fridge. Growing weary, growing restless longing to spread my wings and embrace Jupiter in all of its expansiveness. Finally leaving, and never coming back...<br />
<br />
Today, in my car. I remember this street being longer and our yard bigger. The tree has grown, dwarfing the entry way. Its huge branches shading everything, printing it in dappled sun light. Distorting its depth, or maybe I just don't remember the depth of this place anymore. Everything is the same and nothing is the same.<br />
<br />
You can never really go back. Everything is faded and peeling, like a sad shadow of a melancholy childhood. The Sea Wytchhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01929257500485502207noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6475664914461392883.post-89705608059776218972012-08-13T07:23:00.002-07:002012-08-13T07:28:10.947-07:00Good NightIt's been such a long night. It's lasted 23 days. Tossing and turning, watching the Sun chase the Stars. Watching my dreams chase your ghost. My heart can break in the span of a ringing of the phone.<br />
<br />
Hi, remember me... No, you felt that wrong try again... and again. Don't look at me with contempt in your voice, fight with your reflection because I don't care anymore. Maybe I never really did.<br />
<br />
Through this fog, I've lost myself a million times, I finally found the other side and I can see... Oo how I can see. I see you. I see through you. I see through me. When did we all become so transparent? Why didn't you tell me? Maybe you did and I wasn't listening. You took so many answers with you, now I'll never know.<br />
<br />
Take a deep swig and smile at me when you can and I'll catch you on the flip side. The Sea Wytchhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01929257500485502207noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6475664914461392883.post-79517415417424218532012-06-19T00:55:00.001-07:002012-06-19T00:55:08.907-07:00The F Word<br />
<br />
I think, no, no more thinking...<br />
<br />
I Feel..<br />
<br />
Something...<br />
<br />
Irritation?<br />
<br />
Hurt... Longing. Sadness. Defeat?<br />
<br />
Excitement.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
It's easier for the brain to take all the battles and leave the heart out of it. But then how deeply can anything be felt if you never let it sink in. Being hard isn't a defense... it's weakness.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
I feel....<br />
<br />
free.<br />
<br />
enlightened.<br />
<br />
humble.<br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4Dz_Rg5XPl1NtT0lTY8MPO52xw15_md3x2lsGS_bC4rw8Qkf3E1Dk3swBzcPnVpqIPYIV6gCyqrfjpvyoPoPWJqDpNrkjSNoNZQvimZ1xhLxQKjAQaaNbPBHalwsAIHiWRMAzM-LQUqg/s1600/66920744433030893_tpFcjyOI_f.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4Dz_Rg5XPl1NtT0lTY8MPO52xw15_md3x2lsGS_bC4rw8Qkf3E1Dk3swBzcPnVpqIPYIV6gCyqrfjpvyoPoPWJqDpNrkjSNoNZQvimZ1xhLxQKjAQaaNbPBHalwsAIHiWRMAzM-LQUqg/s320/66920744433030893_tpFcjyOI_f.jpg" width="186" /></a></div>The Sea Wytchhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01929257500485502207noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6475664914461392883.post-19069617994097193902012-06-11T12:41:00.000-07:002012-06-11T12:52:29.078-07:00Requiem<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxpLy9yrEiD4Wmpxq4gLAgKnWloqCu3CizaSsPScV3yh1YNE7pjb0gsmWPPlEPRpFdB_Fz4tyE5rRG2Fr6mtz0id3GUXvtRjhfDqrPezhoWVvzcs4C5uXWG2OZtUpDgFmTtBu2hfmLgI8/s1600/dreaming.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxpLy9yrEiD4Wmpxq4gLAgKnWloqCu3CizaSsPScV3yh1YNE7pjb0gsmWPPlEPRpFdB_Fz4tyE5rRG2Fr6mtz0id3GUXvtRjhfDqrPezhoWVvzcs4C5uXWG2OZtUpDgFmTtBu2hfmLgI8/s320/dreaming.gif" width="235" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
There is almost nothing worse than those frantic moments after a nightmare. You collect your position, your thoughts, your emotions. Try to calm your heart telling yourself it's OK it was just a night mare. and then you start to recount what you just saw... in excruciating detail. Usually you can't even recall the beginning of your dream. What crazy maze led you up to the point that woke you up. The terrifying heart breaking point that woke you up. So until you can shake yourself fully out of your so tired stupor you see it and feel it over and over. And sometimes if your super lucky you get to carry that feeling of terrifying betrayal the muddles your heart all day long. <br />
<br />
<br />
Fuck nightmares.The Sea Wytchhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01929257500485502207noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6475664914461392883.post-64827648094806650772012-05-21T23:35:00.000-07:002012-05-21T23:49:30.702-07:00I'll give you a rock...A friend once told me this song always reminded her of me. So I listened to it and got really depressed... really? That's me? Then I realized I was this for so many before and after her. Then they always look for the next rock to stand on.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gmyq9tIiu8g" target="_blank">Green Eyes - Coldplay</a><br />
<br />
Honey you are a rock<br />
Upon which I stand<br />
And I come here to talk<br />
I hope you understand <br />
<br />
That green eyes<br />
Yeah the spotlight, shines upon you<br />
And how could anybody deny you<br />
<br />
I came here with a load<br />
And it feels so much lighter <br />
Now I met you<br />
And honey you should know<br />
That I could never go on without you<br />
Green eyes<br />
<br />
Honey you are the sea<br />
Upon which I float<br />
And I came here to talk<br />
I think you should know<br />
<br />
That green eyes<br />
You're the one that I wanted to find<br />
And anyone who tried to deny you<br />
Must be out of their mind<br />
<br />
Because I came here with a load<br />
And it feels so much lighter <br />
Since I met you<br />
And honey you should know<br />
That I could never go on without you<br />
<br />
Green eyes<br />
Green eyes<br />
Ooh ooh ooh ooh<br />
Ooh ooh ooh ooh<br />
Ooh ooh ooh ooh<br />
<br />
Honey you are the rock<br />
Upon which I standThe Sea Wytchhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01929257500485502207noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6475664914461392883.post-14022655984931341002012-03-12T08:29:00.003-07:002012-03-12T08:46:51.361-07:00My drunken observations....Spring Break in Las Vegas! The booze is flowing, the debauchery is thick and the skirts are short! No, like really short.<br />
<br />
We did a lot of walking around the strip and I started to notice a trend. I don't know if you are familiar with the term "Carpet Walkers" these are very pretty, 'Vegas Classy' girls who are in casinos that are waiting for some Whale to notice her and... commit to her Terms of Service. These girls are determined and brazen and if you look at one (In her face) she will look you straight in the eye and either look on past you or smile politely (I mean she doesn't wanna get kicked out) She is a confident woman, regardless of her chosen profession.<br />
<br />
Now on to her Spring Break counterpart...<br />
<br />
The drunk sleazy co-ed. Dressed... similar, not as 'Classy' but more... trashy. Hanging on to whatever is swaying less than her and clearly a drinking amateur. Whatever. What I noticed most is that these girls want to look very... Grownup and , yeah they wanna look slutty. However, they can not muster the courage to look anyone in the eye. So it became a game. How Many Toasted Vegas Mini Skirts Could I Get To Make Eye Contact?? Exactly Zero! Of Course I was plastered out of my own mind as well, but I do remember most of my observations. And not one would or could make eye contact.<br />
<br />
So now I'm wondering. Trashy Vegas dresses provocatively to acquire attention. They want people to look at them. NEED people to look at them, and about 90% of their flesh. But they themselves spend all their time looking at their feet. Drunk or not. So is dressing this way empowering to her or demeaning? Does it make her feel strong and in control or naked and weak?<br />
<br />
I mean, I'm not really complaining cuz there was a shit ton of super hot chicks spilling out of their Lycra strips of fabric all week end but it just made me wonder ... Why?The Sea Wytchhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01929257500485502207noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6475664914461392883.post-50612195087547060382012-01-31T11:39:00.000-08:002012-01-31T11:39:31.261-08:00TuesdayI'm tired and awake at the same time<br />
Rattling the bars in my cage<br />
Pacing...<br />
...Pacing...<br />
Is the view looking out<br />
The same as the view looking in?<br />
Curious<br />
Longing<br />
My imagination never stops<br />
The voices are never quiet<br />
... What time is it?The Sea Wytchhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01929257500485502207noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6475664914461392883.post-84440006955570756032012-01-17T05:27:00.000-08:002012-01-17T05:27:56.393-08:00Blissfully in the darkDreaming... you were sweet<br />
concerned<br />
endearing<br />
<br />
In those seconds when I squeeze my lids<br />
See the blurry red numbers glowing in the night<br />
Take inventory of my inert body<br />
I can see you smiling shyly in a foggy background of an interrupted dream<br />
And I wonder why the mind plays tricks on the bodies vulnuerability<br />
Internal terrorism?<br />
<br />
I missed you, for a second.<br />
One shinning beautiful blissful blind second<br />
Before my memory caught up with meThe Sea Wytchhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01929257500485502207noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6475664914461392883.post-40244882496068077332012-01-05T01:04:00.000-08:002012-01-05T01:04:45.495-08:00This might take awhileSo there's this thing that I'm contemplating trying on for awhile. It's called forgiveness ... Shudder ... <br />
<br />
I've always been a hang-on-to-a-grudge-for-life kinda girl. And so far it's been alright. Kinda easier than the alternative I think. Forgiving seems a lot harder than putting an old hate away in a drawer and not having to look at it ever again. And if said file ever popped up again all I ever did was think... Mmmm Nope I still hate you... And moved along. <br />
<br />
Maybe in my advancing years I'm becoming soft... Weak... Ambivalent... Or have too many files in my hate drawer to keep track of anymore. Maybe a little bit of all that. Damn I hope I still get to be a Badass. I have a feeling this is going to be a work in progress. <br />
<br />
How do other people do this kind of thing? Is there a statue of limitations on being pissed at someone? The larger the offense the longer the grudge? Or is there no grudge at all? Like instant forgiveness... Yicks! This may be more complicated than I thought.<br />
<br />
To those of you that know me real well don't worry I'm not going completely soft! Some grudges I do enjoy holding way too much to let go of.The Sea Wytchhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01929257500485502207noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6475664914461392883.post-10326005698462013732011-12-27T16:51:00.000-08:002016-02-23T17:10:01.867-08:00RenderingThe choices made in the tilting fog of an old night,<br />
are always easier than upright tactile daylight conversations.<br />
The brightness of clarity a constant reminder of what I look like, to me, to you.<br />
How tarnished and blemished am I willing to become when I can still see so clearly?<br />
oh so reasonable.<br />
In the dark you look like a devil, In the dark you look like an angel.<br />
You can be whatever I want you to be.<br />
<br />
Patterns on display. Wash, rinse, repeat.<br />
Then I see you, fresh and glowing in the mid-day sun.<br />
What have we become?<br />
I am still wholly myself, with or without you.<br />
You do not complete me.<br />
<br />
Lies on display. Rinse Rinse Rinse.<br />
<br />
I defy nature.<br />
You used the juxtaposition of our dark against me.<br />
weak weak weak.<br />
So I carry your darkest night into my brightest day.<br />
And there you stayed...<br />
<br />
Until <br />
I saw the worst parts of me in you.The Sea Wytchhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01929257500485502207noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6475664914461392883.post-63127731751169231112011-12-16T11:29:00.000-08:002011-12-17T13:24:51.251-08:00TransitionsI am really looking forward to Winter Solstice this year. Some years the holiday spirit is completely lacking but this year it jives.<br />
<br />
I have been celebrating (or attempting to celebrate) the Sabbats for about 8 years now. In the beginning it was difficult. I never really considered myself Christian, I was Catholic (which in my experience is the Red Headed Step Child of Christianity) If I told say a Baptist I was Catholic I got an "Ohh" and a very apologetic look. But on the upside now if I tell a Baptist I'm Pagan (and depending if they have heard of me or not) I am greeted with many colorful comebacks, from polite nodding and backing away to out in out rage at my poor choices in life where they instantly start questioning everyone I know and try to peel them away from my demon worshiping deeds. Whatever, people have A LOT of baggage tied up in religion. And me not excluded, which is why in the beginning it was difficult to make the transition.<br />
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I had 26 years of conditioning and tradition under my God Loving belt to contend with. I would think "I want to have Yule and recognize the Solstice but do I just disregard Christmas all together?... How messed up are my kids gonna be?... What's my Gramma gonna say??"<br />
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Well I did get quite a bit of backlash from my own Christan/Pagan change over. Sadly most of it found it's way back to me through gossip and hatefulness that those close to me couldn't say to my face. But whatever, like I said a lot of people carry their baggage in their religion. And I know for a fact that they love to pass that heaping pile of.. dogma to you :) <br />
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When I decided to really commit and get a taste of the old religion I discovered the fundamentalist Christian counterpart... The Born-Again-Pagan Christian haters. Crazy I know, and maybe haters is a harsh word...Hmm. They had been burned by the church, by the system, by the man, and they were not happy.<br />
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So the tricky part was find where I wanted to fit into all of this Dogmatic, Mythological Spirituality. And the super hard part is to not lose who I was in the beginning of it all. So I took some, I left some. It took a few years and some sad failed attempts but eventually I made a solid foundation for me to lay my spirit down and here I am.<br />
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Through all of these Pagan years I held strong to the stance that I was NEVER going to join a C...Co...Coven. Never say Never! I love my coven. We are... Unconventional, even to Pagan standards. But it works, for all of us. And my tiny ice block of a heart has never been more content in my own Spiritual skin. I can feel the seasons come and go, know the balance between the old ways and new and find joy in the small things. I can set up altar and pay homage to the Goddess but still make it to our extended family's table for Christmas dinner. <br />
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A lot of things went horribly wrong in 2011, it's probably a year that I will try and forget. However I am very glad it's ending on a peaceful note.<br />
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Happy Holidays :)The Sea Wytchhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01929257500485502207noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6475664914461392883.post-86041099923869500012011-11-01T07:01:00.000-07:002011-11-01T07:01:17.692-07:00Thanks for the ride lady...Side effect or maybe occupational hazard...<br />
Samhain hitchhikers.<br />
At least sludging, black, nasty attaching energy. Past few days have been... Unpleasant at best. I thought fur sure I was gonna start searching for a crucifix and pea soup. Couldn't really pinpoint the horrible nasty mood I've been in. Save for the incredibly epic good versus evil trip to the astral last night. Which should of exhausted me for days I woke up refreshed and happy to be lighter of that... What ever THAT was. Negativity in it's rawest form tastes like metal and sand and feel like swimming in motor oil. Where did it come from? I have my suspicions. I wont be taking in any homeless spirits any time soon. I've never been so happy for October to be over. Now for a Good Smudging and a cup of coffee.The Sea Wytchhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01929257500485502207noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6475664914461392883.post-43723231707848753682011-10-04T12:37:00.000-07:002011-10-04T12:50:10.365-07:00All around the mulberry bush, the monkey chased the weasel.Today is laced with you, like the edging on a coffin.<br />
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My first breath of morning air bit at my throat as the crisp October breeze fluttered in through the curtain.<br />
Stinging my tonsils, just like a scorpion teasing prey.<br />
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Suspended in red time like my Vicodin magically floating in my jello.<br />
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The way I crave The Little Death is piercing like static at my seams.<br />
Wearing like sandpaper on my skin.<br />
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I can hear you whisper 'fuck you' in my ears...<br />
Or maybe you're screaming it to a melody. <br />
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And to think, it's only noon.The Sea Wytchhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01929257500485502207noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6475664914461392883.post-85270015934904818192011-09-30T10:31:00.000-07:002011-09-30T10:31:45.788-07:00There are places I remember, all my life, though some have changed...Are there people that you know, that like you REALLY know. And then one day... maybe you don't know them so well. Something changed in you, or them, and now you're kinda lookin' at them like 'where did you come from?' No animosity or even indifference. Kinda like you wanted them to be something to you and so they just always were, but then the rosy glasses come off and they were never that at all. It's kinda lame. Makes you home sick for someone you never knew.The Sea Wytchhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01929257500485502207noreply@blogger.com1