Why you gotta do me like that, Myspace Mail?

Some thoughts are absolutely brilliant, well executed and ready to read. Paragraphs were formed, and placed with utter perfection, (in my mind.)on screen. And just when all is said and done, wrapped in the portable package of email… sent button pressed…. it loads the page, and says return to in box… but once checked, it was never sent. By the time it is realized, all is lost. Damn it! There are a few of you who have been the victims of unreceived emails…. dial up connections are lame. I will get them to you in a cohesive sense, as soon as my brain starts working again.

P.S. I have PMS it could be a week or so.

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Questions

When asked where I want to go
I only know that I seek to someday be
a master
A master of my mind, my body,
my emotions, and my senses
To really know what “zen” is
To be a CEO or a “owner” doesn’t thrill me
The martyr within would rather be killed
I only know I won’t sell myself short
if this plan I choose not to abort
of a Spiritual sister
My spirit is merely my body sitter
so in the case of material possession
intellect and reasoning
this path may seem obscure and unreal
but it’s the feeling in my heart
that takes me there
to a place of contentment and realization
A master is not easily persuaded,
so consciousness and patience is the lesson
it is the vibrant ethereal collision of existence

Direct from my Mandiefestation book, My WANTED Ad.

WANTED:
Long term Lover on my terms
Conscious Creative 20-something Female SEEKING like minded 25-30 something Mate.
Must be responsible with child-like wonder. Please be able to offer hugs, long back massages, and space.
Looking for self-confident creative individual who understands both balance for personal needs and passion for partnership.
Inspiration, heady love, and late night cuddle/conversation-fests are a MUST! Please be an enjoy-er of nature, art, and spontaneous activity. Plans are also fun.
Co-dependent path stealer’s need not apply.
I can not pay much more than attention, gratitude, and encouragement…but all is offered up!
Only seekers of equal oppertunity exchange are asked to apply!

Taking Month to month Sugar Daddy Applications, NOW!

Do you ever wish you could just DO WHAT YOU WANT TO, with out the worry of money, or time spent. Do you wish, SOME ONE else would fund the adventure that is your life? Are you SICK of “regular 9-5” type gigs, and wasting all of your creative energy on SOMEONE Else’s livelihood.
ME TOO!
I wish there was a month to month Sugar daddy service. A place where I set all the demands, and he just keeps giving. Time, money, space. All of it is vital. Some people would buy blow and snort themselves to oblivion. Some would buy ugly hooker clothes, that they refer to as “high end, and exotic.”
I would go to the art store. I would buy a shit ton of supplies. I would even invite said “Sugar daddy” along. Perhaps he want’s a painting of his own.
I would paint until I was tired in the arms.
Then I would go to find a publisher, and I would give them a manuscript. “SD” would pay to have it pressed and bound, distributed and available.
After that I would set up a beautiful costume closet and a great big green room with wonderful lighting. I would put on an amazing performance and invite all of my friends and neighbors.
It’s usually a curse that a girl can’t pick her sugar daddy. He picks her. But if there was an application process, I could pick mine. He would be handsome, conscious and available. I would want to spend time with him because he lifts the creative process, instead of hindering it. He would be invited to hang out, because he would be joyful to have around.
He would give me the attention I want and the space I need. He would be happy to throw his cash toward being a patron of the arts. This would seem useful, and I would be a tool that not only utilizes his bankbook in creative and helpful ways, but also a window to a world not yet realized.
Of course this is ideal.
And we all know I am an idealist. And this is no modern day fairy tale.
There is no excuse for this able bodied woman to not earn her own keep. I am empowered, and yet I would rather not eat in this moment than drain what energy I do have into works that are no longer fulfilling to me.
I am seeking a spiritual answer, and everyday I think I am on the brink, that it will all break free and change. No need for the dependence of another to bare the cross that is my own to bare.
Honestly I feel as if everything is falling apart at the seams. I am barely surviving. And honestly, there is no other excuse than I feel like “a normal job” isn’t what I am here for. Nothing will ever change until we change it, but something needs to change for me before the season does. In the midst of warmth, all is well. But when the cool air of winter in the mountains starts to blow, quite frankly, I am fuckin’ screwed.
I have a high faith in things being the way they are right now, but I think Claddagh would disagree.
So for those who know, and know to care, I am following my heart. It’s what I feel I need to do, and even I feel like a bit of a fool for my inability to see farther ahead to know exactly what effect this is going to have, I am going to keep keepin’ on.
Though now I am back to owing dues, and that sickens me.
I smile and say I am surviving, but it feels like the tide is coming in, and that drowning feeling is setting in. I need relief and just a little help, and I can’t ask so I’m not really helping myself.
Just another turn around the bend, just another day I am trying not to pretend.

Full Moon Feeling

Saturday night and the moon will shine its light onto forest frolickers.
Watch out for feral behaviors and lunar instigation’s, it is a time of completion, at times copulation and in this hot season I believe nights like these are the ones when the animals breed.
When the tide and all the signs are right, when new souls find easy portals into this adventurous existence.
How do you make baby hippies? Its fucking in tents.
Be wary, be warned, warm nights cry for less clothing, longing for intimate holding, leads mostly to beastly hollering. Oh be wary weary soul.
Guess it’s good I have no one to hold.
My safest solution, a loving dog in need of grooming.

Remember always wear condoms!

I miss you

I’m not sure who I’m missing exactly. Those who have passed, those who have moved on… and the ignorant being I once was.
I chose the email “stumblingflower” when I was 15. I loved the name of the band “Tripping Daisy” and reworked it into “trippingdazee” for my other email. It represented what I felt about myself. This flower that keeps falling. Not able to quite catch myself, waiting to open into grace, but always falling short. Contrary to popular belief, there is no drug connection. It was nothing more than a feeling toward myself, and the seemingly unattainable.
I am not sure I have totally blossomed or bloomed into what I am to be, but it feels like it’s closer than ever.
All of this sleeping in the woods and analysis has me on the cusp of some transformation left without mention. The awkwardness of youth is melting into the grace of maturity and female bounty. What a relief! I thought it would never happen.
Still there is a longing, a missing in my soul. Perhaps it aches only for what I do not yet know, and for those which have not yet touched me. I feel them coming and I miss them already.
As I envelop wholeness and untiy within myself, those draw near who are in search of the same, I am excited for the day I commune with such souls cemented in their own holistic foundations. We will be strong without and within, co-creating with out division and the simplification of interaction with integrity.
Love will be simplistic and sincere, passion will burn brighter, the realm of worry will be released.
Relationships will flourish, dysfunction within is realized and worked through with consciousness and help from a loving common-unity. The fouls and failings of humanity not seen as disgrace but a reason to unite and overcome. Judge-less and supportive.
All I can do is work at polishing my own mirror, reflections of what I hope to be, and all thee to see.

The beauty of a few… (men)

I give thanks to a beautiful Universe who gives in such abundance, the sweet caress of supple hands and the sharing of breath.
Quiet conversations held in majestic locations with XY chromosomes. Sometimes may lead to soft moaning, none the less at times staying up till early morning, just talking.
When compassion, and integration are the only destination. All aboard the train of Truth, packed with seekers eager to take the long road. Slowly we go, at times catching speed, so fast at times it is hard to breathe, these are just moments.
Each comes and goes in it’s own succession, each is learning their lessons, and this is the most beautiful distraction. Ones that lead to affection, and intimacy. The moments that allow me to be all I am and untapped potential.
Mirrors with fears, looking glasses of love. It is hard not to love oneself in such interactions with such magnanimous imaginations, we are co creating the world we always wished existed.
Pieces of the reasons overlooked for so long. We intertwine for the times that are yours and mine only the sign we were all already seeking.
Don’t forget to keep breathing. Never stop seeking, our best selves are always ready to surface. It may take forever to learn this, though I’ll never tire with teachers like these.

A portal of inner exploration