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Archive for February, 2009

Bad Karma

I’m in two places at once and the heat doesn’t work in either one.  Clanking and grinding here, until the pump on the boiler went out, mini-explosions there, following a “thorough” cleaning (ordered by the warranty people).  Which will freeze first?  Pipe broken there, mice in the garage, dead outside, in a pile, waiting to be fileted and barbecued as a delicacy of this recession.  They’d moved into the oh-so-nice bedding, the pretty colored mulches meant to make the place spiffy.  Ah, spiff, can a mouse-mouse resist?  Guess not.

Does bad karma put loved ones in the hospital, three days for an outpatient procedure?  All because I had ill-will and wished to curse someone who deserves… okay, what she really NEEDS is to learn that her actions hurt other people, the world doesn’t revolve around her, and some people do indeed have class in the morning, are trying to work toward their degrees, don’t like it when naked men wander into their room in the middle of the night, misplacing the wh*&^e they came home with, or maybe seeking more for their money (who bought the booze?).  I will NEVER admit that I found even one iota to be funny (ha ha), to her.  Because she’s warped.  And that’s where the ill will stems from.  From no sleep.  From fear of being ravished against my will.  From feeling unsafe walking through my own house (yes, mate, I know it’s MY house, too, but y’all go out of your way to make others feel unwelcome, hardy-har-har). 

And thus the circle of trust is broken once again, thankfully, this end of the circle had never actually closed. 

Three days without sleep.  Thinking of becoming Sicillian (never go up against a Sicillian when death is on the line!) so I can use an evil eye.  But I like my eyes, so why sould I make myself evil?

Third day without heat and hot water here.  Getting used to doing things the old-fashioned way, boiling hot water to do dishes.  Can’t imagine being able to boil enough to take a bath, not in our tiny tea kettle. 

Don’t tell someone who has lost three days of sleep for you already this week to get up and do your bidding.  You make me think bad thoughts, which only snowballs my bad karma.  The last mouse is probably pregnant. 

Please give me one good reason I should care, should bow and scrape to your selfish nature, should help you out at all, should LIKE you, should think that if I were to walk away and never ever see your face again or hear of your fate that I wouldn’t even remember you tomorrow, and wish I had?  Because I should think your lifestyle is funny, oh so dramatic, because you turn yourself into a clown for my benefit?  And yet, you hate your own life, whine, whine over everything.  Like yourself first, respect yourself, respect others, and then.  Maybe.  We’ll talk.

night,

dawn

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Witches Write

Which is right?  Is there such a thing as “proper”?  Which is better? 

Some dudes can belt out a tune.  They get on Broadway, where maybe they don’t have to be as pretty as their Hollywood counterparts, and they sing out.  “If you want to sing out, sing out.”  Rock musicals.  Pop tunes.  Strong voices. 

There are some people who train for years, madrigal choirs, opera.  It’s about control, suppression, style. 

Some things are natural talents, some are learned from masters by “kata” (basically: rote).  Some are a mix of both.

I think when it comes to writing I am working toward a strong, unique voice, and I have a smattering of knowledge of the old styles, a love of alliteration, etc.  I work toward certain skills, like musicality within writing, honing my ear toward dialogue, looking at what people find funny and why.  I study, but in a practical (popular?) sense.  And yet, I know that my writing will never be “popular”.  I’ve set a course more for the small university presses.  I hope for one reader out of twenty who really likes and understands my stuff, and a couple others who are intrigued enough to read it.  Where does that leave me, in the grand course of things, in terms of publishability?  Am I on the “write” track, or the wrong, and which side of the track would I like to be on?

night,

dawn

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