What would you say to someone if they told you that every death gives them more life? They aren't the murderers; they just benefit from death.

People die all over the world, but some people have amazingly long lives. What if that's why?
We've all heard of psychic vampires - those people who seem to live off of other people's emotions, or even those who drain all our abilities to have emotions - black pits of need and whine that sometimes are the people we love. Or, the feeling in a crowd, where the prevailing emotion feeds on itself - people can get stronger or louder in a crowd than alone. What if deaths and longevity is connected that way?

When I dance alone, I tire quickly, but when I'm dancing at a club or around lots of other people dancing, I feel energized, as if I'm plugged into a source of energy. This got me thinking as to the tragedy of a person or persons who realize that their lives are based on other people's deaths. How horrible would that realization be? Imagine the thought that major tragic world events, that wars and bombings and fires and drought and disease and tsunamis and earthquakes and murders are the reason you might live to be 110 or past.

Would you want that life?


Listening to 80s music, I realize that the 80s may have been a Romantic sort of era, almost in a Byronesque classicism sort of way. I was listening to Corey Hart's "Never Surrender" and wondering idly what my son would think of it, and realizing that his music is harder, harsher, less idealistic and romantic.

My brothers and Capt A and his brother grew up on this 80s theme and consider themselves heroes. When I think of my brother, whom I fondly term 'Terminator', I think of 'Eye of the Tiger'; for my brother the 'Transporter', I can't remember now, but it's something less blatantly heroic and more understated, no less romantic. And.. for some reason.. I think of "Don't Pay The Ferryman" for both of them....

I don't know if there's a song for me that my brothers would have thought of; I know that I have songs for everyone I know. My eldest and her daughter remind me of a song (I won't say it here, because it's their names!) But prior to that, my eldest was "Sister Golden Haired Surprise". My son is "Daniel's Song" and my youngest has two: "Isn't She Lovely?" and one by Savage Garden: "To The Moon & Back" (if you knew the sorrow that was my baby daughter's life, you'd understand).

My eldest thinks of me when she hears the Buggles' song "Elstree". One album, great music - it's the album that "Video Killed The Radio Star" came from. For me, the songs I identified with the most were by Alphaville, Buggles, Kim Wilde; soundtracks were Fame and Streets of Fire.

Right now, I have Ganesha Sharanam by Jai Uttal in my head. New position at work, fulltime. When that one is not playing in my head, my baby daughter's song is ringing; I hope she's okay.


Ah, the whole 'weird music' thing. Today I felt the need for chants. I like the Gregorian Chants, so I have on standby the Noel and the Best of. Then I went to Napster to see what else is out there; found popular music set to chant - in love, I want them all. Beatles and Pink Floyd, Alphaville and Led Zeppelin, all sorts of genres. Then I found the Hindu chants - I'm particularly fond of Ganesha Sharanam, done by Jai Uttal.

Now if I could only find the Islamic worship music; I miss hearing that from the mosque in Bushwick, as brief as that was. I have to find how it would be described to see if I can find it on Napster.

I wish I could find a way to have all this music inside of me whenever I wanted to access it. Like a chip, with limitless space, to add all the world's music to it, so that I can always listen to something. I can cast the song away if I don't like it, or keep it for special memories and occasions. I'm particularly fond of remixes, especially of two completely opposite genres. I adore techno/foreign remixes. And one of the things I like about hip-hop/rap is that they willingly remix and sample things that simply one would not think go together. It fascinating.

It has been a good day.
I find myself enjoying the oddest music. I'm listening to Wumpscut's "Crucified (desert mix)" from Dried Blood of Gomorrah. Let's not go to the instant thrill of listening to something that is entitled "Dried Blood of Gomorrah" or "Crucified" because it is heretical and blasphemous. Terrible thing, that whole 180 from good little church girl to apostate.

Anyway, I enjoy the sounds of Wumpscut - I'm not sure what the genre is really called, industrial or electropop (don't think it's electropop) or what; just like the sounds. I can get lost in the music (my Capn A would not call this music). I feel like I can write things, create things, listening to it.

I escape when I listen to music. At least, my music. Though, I can do that with other people's music so long as they dont talk to me while I'm listening to it.

Walking does that, as does writing. And Reading. Takes me about four hours to finish a book of about 1000 pages if it's scifi/fantasy, and I'm so involved in the story that it is physically jarring to return to real life.

When I listen to Wumpscut, I want to write a soldier's tale, but one that fits my worldview. The soldier is female, but it is not a female bitchfest. She would struggle and complain and fight and deal like a man would; the voice would be unique. I have always liked stories where the woman can only be differentiated from the man by name and body type. She can sweat it out like the boys. Comes from me wanting to be Clint Eastwood in "A Fistful of Dollars". I did, I honestly did!

It would be set in some apocalyptic future, dark yet still hpeful. I love tales of endurance and sheer bravado in the face of horror and danger, and finding out, on the other side, that this experience strengthened hope instead of destroying it.

Yes, the voices in Wumpscut may be male, but the character proclaiming it is female.

For melodrama, I would go to Apoptygma Bezerk and State of the Union and VNV Nation and Wolfsheim. For pain and for terror, Die Form and Rammstein for anger, as NIN as well. Covenant for confusion, and Syntec. Some Icon of Coil, etc.

And this from an old lady. I will never be normal. Thank someone! :)


Some days are lucid and clear. My brain is quiet and I can function. Some days, however, I feel like there are too many conversations in my head and I can't keep them separate from reality. I remember instances of sheer lunacy - when I worked as a word processor for a law firm in NYC, and the keyboard keys were having conversations about how unfair it was that one was being utilized more than the other - and my fingers were taking sides! I kept on making mistakes because this key wanted to be used as equally as the other key.

Other instances: I make calls at work, and one day, for some reason, I was living a Dr Who episode - every move I made was in conjunction (in my head, anyway) to something the Doctor needed or the TARDIS required. I had to mentally shake that off (and it was hard) and make a definite, focused effort on staying in reality. Or, somehow, I'm not REALLY where I'm at - work, or walking, or home, or bed - those aren't real. Whatever schema my mind is working with at the moment (depends on what I'm reading or currently obsessed with) becomes the only reality and everything else I do just plays into it.

That Dr Who day, for example; I had finished watching the second season of the new series. I was truly breathing, eating, dreaming, thinking, talking and living Dr. Who. I could not make the separation between that and reality. Or recently, reading the Kushiel Saga; completely unable for a while to see that I WASN'T LIVING IN THAT BOOK. Because, in my head, I was.

I was reading a Michael Stackpole series; suddenly, everything was part of the story. Or LOST; I began seeing things and hearing things that I related directly to the show. Heroes, SG1, Steven Brust, Anne McCaffrey. I do this all the time. I have been doing this all my life. It scares me, that I can leave 'reality' so easily behind, and everything I perceive belongs in the fantasy world I begin to inhabit.

It's a form of disassociation, perhaps, or something schizophrenic. I stopped writing real stories when I realized that I was fully expecting them to be real, for something to happen as it was happening to my protagonist. I thought, today, that it was over, but then I got home and found I was living out yet another little fantasy thing based on the books I was reading. It's scary, and it makes me wonder if anyone else does that.

Nevertheless, it is also fun - and familiar. I am the heroine in my fantasies, even if the line between my mental landscape and the real world gets really indistinct.

Now I'm off to bed, to inhabit the worlds within my head, and enjoy myself. I'll wake up tomorrow eager for a new day, but also saddened at leaving the infinitely richer world I escape to every night. But I don't miss it too much; the lingering effects are with me all the time and I have to make a distinct effort to stay on target within the real world.


I dreamt last night about a group of teens. For lack of a better name, I will call them "Water Babies". The premise was that they were not fully human - well, they were human, but they had extra attributes. The dream started out with them arguing about a fifth person they had found, who might be like them.

Each had their abilities, but one of them accused this fifth person of not being human - and it flashed back to a meeting of their fourth member, a tall lanky young man who could identify, by breathing water in, all the chemicals and such in it.

They all could breath water, by the way; one could actually manifest gills. But the dream focused on the lanky tall guy, who looked like a young version of Jason Flemyng in "League of Extraordinary Gentlemen". He was obsessed with trying to make people see what was in the water.

They found him, all gangly limbs and singleminded obsession, in and out of the Thames, detailing with scientific precision all the heavy metals and poisons and chemicals, both harmful and beneficial, to be found in each part of the River. The same boy (the one with gills, no less) who was initially calling the fifth member inhuman was also against this fellow, calling him an alien.

There was more to the dream, but as I lay there remembering, it also reminded me of the formulaic 70s and 80s shows on Saturday mornings. I would not want it to be that way.

Prior to that dream, I know I was enjoying one that was dark yet rich. I cannot remember it, to my chagrin. Ah well. At least, I woke up happy in having that sort of adventure, even if I dont' remember it.


I forgot about this blogsite. Well, got reminded of it in the fall school year of 2006, but couldn't remember how to get on until Google finally answered my email of 2006!!!! Anyway, lots of things have changed except for the fact I still consider myself a very lucky woman.

I still think of him as my darling Lord Dragon, but as a human, he had his failings. Not that I didn't enable them (that's me, an enabler). I hope he's doing well now; he's got a son and a woman who's focused on making the best life for her and her child as possible and I pray that they both do, now and in the future.

I left NY in the fall of 2004. I found out recently I totally failed my last semester at LIU. Okay, I started going to college in the fall of 2001 - when the Towers and the Pentagon were attacked. I frankly haven't been the same since. I wanted to move out of NY for a while, anyway. Early winter, 2003, I got hit with some really shattering developments and my grades in the spring of 2004 suffered mightily for it. So did my job. Life went upside down. Emotionally distraught and unstable, that whole jazz. Things with my eldest weren't good anyway (downhill into the horrible world of drugs) and my son was in jail and my youngest and I had clashed rather viciously. It wasn't a good time.

My dear Lord Dragon went off to raise his son and I was rather adrift. So my Spring 2004 was a total disaster - me, a near 4.0 gpa student, got a .89! it was awful. But in that time I met a nice guy, who I'll call Capt A - he's a fanatic about Captain America (WHO IS NOT DEAD!).

He and I got along enough for him to introduce me to his family. They liked me, I think, and his brother (he's a twin) and his brother's wife invited me to live with them when Capt A set down that he would not go to NY again, and long distance relationships aren't easy to maintain. Which I agree, and further, I wanted to leave NY.

So I moved down here to Pennsylvania. Nice historical town near the Maryland border. I transferred my credits, and found a job. Soon, in consideration of my wanting to bring my kids down, he bought a house (this is a HUGE thing, for me). We got my son down here within a year my son was kicked out - well, I did mention he's an asshole, right? I brought my daughter down, the youngest. She still isn't a nice person, but now my son has changed and.. oh, the difference in my eldest! She's done a full 180 and is now working, going to school (college) and struggling to be a mom as well. I'm so proud of her! Still, I wish she were here with me, but there aren't as many opportunities here as in NY. Ah well.

I graduated Summa Cum Laude in Spring, 2007. I wish I didn't ever have to leave school; I enjoy it so much. Capt A and I have strugged each with our problems and have managed to find a way through things together and individually. I love his family for their support and their adult way of doing things, so different from the drama-laden explosions in my family. I love him because he loves me, and he's truly a good man. Okay, a wee bit vanilla, but what would you expect from a three-color superhero? :)

So I still think I'm the luckiest woman alive. My children will screw up but then turn around and make good. I'm sure of it; I just wish I could skip ahead and not live through the screwups!

My granddaughter is in a school for gifted and talented children; she's going to be 7 and reads at a 3rd grade level. THAT'S blood of my blood, for sure! I'm happy. Life, as I've mentioned before, has it's ups and downs. Sometimes, to get rid of the rollercoaster life, you have to leave your life behind and start a new one. I like this one lots. I'm an adult, finally, in charge of a home and a job and part of a real partnership. I'm going to work to make it last. Lucky me, so will my partner. Yay!