Running against your personal Programming

mental programming

It is an odd thing, when you have spent the majority of your life doing things a certain way. Take me for example. I have always been taught to be efficient and expedient. I have worked in professional kitchens for years, yet now, I find myself working in a clerical position for a shipping company. My grandfather always told us, the children in the family; “If you are on another mans clock, use your time wisely. Don’t waste time. Don’t be lazy, and don’t ever stand around.” This has been the way I have looked at things most of my adult life. So how do I, a person who looks on themselves as efficient and learn to run against my own personal programming?

In psychology class in college, you are taught that your personality is, for the most part, set by the time you reach eight years old. So, if you consider that lesson, we are, who we are going to be by the same time.  This does not mean we can not grow and learn as an individual throughout our lives, but we, as children absorb our personal environments and become a mirror of that. Wether that be our parents, surroundings or environments.

Most people, that I know anyway, grew up with parents, school, a stable living arrangement exc. My life growing up was a bit different. Always moving around the country. Never in the same place for more then a year or two then moving again. When I was ten I lost my family and was put into group homes run by the Commonwealth. The bouncing, for me, did not stop till I was over eighteen. The only constant in my life, after I moved in with the Commonwealth, was that of a protective grandfather. And, it is now his voice I hear in my head, at my new job daily. They want me to slow down my pace, not do everything so quickly, and learn to take my time. Otherwise they will run out of things for me to do each week and it could effect my time clock.

So, as you see, I am facing a reprogramming sidestep in my professional life. I guess I am questioning what to do in the foreseeable future. Can I learn to change my routine only for this job, eight hours per day, and one day go back to being efficient? Or, do I change from now till I retire, and hope I never find myself again in a career that expects me to run at full speed and worry little about running out of things to do? A seemingly short question and dilemma, but one I find myself stumped on, nonetheless.

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In the Absence of Passion

passionIn a world so fast paced as the one, we all live in today, how do you measure out the correct ingredients to fill a passionate life? How do you make each choice, believing you are not only writing your life on a page, but also creation a personal dish the world will yearn for, long after the meal is over? Is it possible to balance out all the possibilities through every decision and somehow come out, in the end with something more then a messy kitchen? What if you were brought up, believing that your life should always be filled with passion? What if you grew up, but never forgot the deep, rooted desire for that same passion. How would you correct possible years in the absence of passion? I hope the next few pages can account for a few of mine.

As a child I was brought up by a dreamer, my mother, who wanted to teach her children that passion and love were the keys to happiness. Only before I lost her around twelve years old, she had failed to mention how you do that in the twentieth century, less alone the twenty first century. So I was a young child who was brought up in a world of wonder. I saw much of the world before I was in my teens, but for everything I saw, I was never shown, or told a harsh truth; sometimes when you grow up, it is not feasible to hold on to childish believe’s and desires. When I lost my family at twelve, I had to start a new chapter of my life a bit early. I was placed in Kentucky group homes, and they never lasted very long. Bouncing from place to place, I tried to hold on, not only to my past family, but what I believed about the world I was growing into. Simple to say now, not always easy!

I turned eighteen an moved into a home with my older half brother, who had been raised by a very different side of the same mother, with a different father. Very few rainbows and no stuffed animals helped him to see the world I had always felt a part of. Needless to say our life, while somewhat stable, was very different and hard to combine together. We never saw eye to eye, and I felt like I was living in a home with only one heart. We never spoke of the books I had been raised on, “The Lord of the Rings” “A Tale of two cities” fairy tales, beyond memory now. He believed then, as he still does now, that the world is cut and dry, accept that or fall and get left behind!

Between eighteen and my early thirties, I had more jobs then most people would have in three times the years. I attended school’s, universities and vocational programs, but they too were all missing a passion I felt this world may have never had in the first place. I felt lost, alone and without meaning. In my first fourteen years of being an adult, I did not do relationships well. I always feared they would be just like the world, and my brother; cold and without passion. So I simply stayed away. Even when my heart begged me to do otherwise.

The year I was to turn thirty I applied and attended Le Cordon Bleu in the US. I had remembered the cooking in my grandparents kitchen from my childhood. I had remembered being taught nothing can come out right if it does not start and end with passion. I even told a professor/chef in school of my desire to find a career where my passion could be useful, and not an anchor pulling me to oblivion. A man who had attended culinary programs all over the world, and seemed to truly believe as I had been brought up, at least in a kitchen. I felt this may have a chance. When school was over and time came to find a position in a real kitchen, those beliefs vanished along with every other job I had ever had. That was till I traveled to Europe and found the passion I felt I would never find in the US. Restaurants in this country, America, are all about being the same way all the time. No room for creativity, no space for the passion of one person in a kitchen, no thought it could help. In Europe, people still cook as they have for hundreds of years, with their hearts. Family recipes past down through generations. Children adding or subtracting making it their own. The more I traveled, the more I came to a realization, passion was no longer on the menu in most parts of the world. People want consistency, no matter what it costs, both in money an in individuality, and passion to a chosen field.

When I returned to the states, I had found my passion in many different locations of the world, but my heart, mind and blood still told me this was where I would find my simple truth. I married at thirty four, divorced at thirty eight, and found myself almost at an end, no longer believing my passion would ever have a place in this world. I gave up cooking professionally, and returned to university. At thirty nine, I found myself attending Northern Kentucky University, and though I had aspirations of becoming a journalist, I found any passion for writing was no longer part of that job either. Cut and dry. Regurgitate the same thing a reporter for the station over, had already said today, or last night. Truth, as long as it is the truth through someone else’s eyes. That was not going to do it.

My thought was to finish that term, and possibly return to another country and vanish. Throughout my life I had always turned to writing as a way to cope with the world around me. The things I did not care for. The cold of others where there should have been heart. I made up much of my own reality, simply to be able to stomach the world I was forced to live in. At the end of my marriage I had sought the help of a counselor, to keep myself from wanting to die. She had told me to erase the world I truly lived in, and write my own. Take all the pain and suffering and turn it into something I could see, feel, understand and believe in. “Enslaved” became my reality. My ex wife hated that I poured my worthless feelings into a story that, in her opinion, would never be read by anyone. but I continued on. Out of that relationship, into the possibility of journalism, almost out of sight.

It started out very dark, and written by hand. I had no idea what I was doing, I had no delusions of having it published, but it kept me somewhere between my real, and reality. It read more like a bloody S&M tale, then a life anyone would ever dream of living, but it was the way I saw the world, and till I removed the wife from my equation, I never could have seen it differently. I bought an Apple Mac and went from writing by hand, to typing and found I had a talent for it. I shared my writings with others, and never seemed to receive a bad stroke for it. Back to what I thought was going to be my last semester in college or the US, I tripped over a young woman, who was fighting with demons of her own, and we became good friends. I had only been free of a relationship for a few years, no desire to get into another, but I had found a single person who not only wanted to see me, she wanted, for reason’s I may never know, to truly understand me. She found my writing one day, and read it from cover to cover. Interestingly enough it was the first time I had taken the opportunity to cook for her as well. She had come from a world, mostly void of passion, so to find someone who wanted to create her own world filled with passion was of great interest to her. That young woman is now my fiancee. We have two amazing dogs, and a life I would not trade for the world. In my three years with her, I have learned and found the passion my mother told me never live without. I still dream of moving to Europe and an old world in a modern century. People who work to live, and raise families.

Mom had not meant to live completely in passion, the human race is not, at this point, capable of such things. She had meant to find a way, large or small, to implement passion into a life you wished to not only live for yourself, but also share with others. I found that I had enslaved myself to a world I would never truly find. I had enslaved my heart to a chain, I could not break, and a soul, lost in the past. The story I started as a way to cope with my own hell, is now in the process of being printed, edited and published as the first book, a series of five called, “The Eight Expansion Series”, to be released sometime in 2016. I am under contract for the first one, the second is finished, and the third is underway. My passion and desire for darkness through enticing chances may well yet be read by the world at large. You, reading this now, may even find a bit of yourself in the very pages that brought me out of my own enslavement. That is my hope anyway.

I still write as I did when I started. I pour every bit of myself into my writing. As I do with my cooking, and the rest of my life. I have, not only one person that encourages me to continue forward with my truest intentions. I can not answer all the questions at the top of this, but I can answer a few. I have found others to add to the list, but one day at a time. Why do you live in a world without passion? Because you don’t allow yourself to dream for the impossible. Because you don’t want to be let down? Many reasons for the questions, but I find myself believing most in the world I hope to one day find. A world with people and careers, homes and families, and every day lives, daring to dream, for your passion. hold on to the possibilities, and never allow yourself to live, in the absence of passion.

“Crazy Fucking Bitch”

Croissants

One of the most profound, amazing revelation of my life happened  yesterday, while recovering from urology surgery in the hospital at the University of Kentucky. I was blessed to meet an amazing woman and nurse named Jessica. I was in a considerable amount of pain from the incision and the after effects of anesthesia. I don’t know if she was the nurse assigned to me, from the hospital, or God, but either way she gave me something that will forever change my life, and I hope yours as well. She gave me a bit of insight on something we all struggle with daily, hourly, randomly & eternally; our relationships and ourselves. Now I can’t say which side of the relationship you are standing on, are you the guy or man who is in love with a woman? The woman in the equation? I can not speak for all the different kinds of relationships in the world, only the ones between male and female, because they are the only ones I have ever had experience with. This being said;

My relationship, my fiancee is with an amazing young woman, for whom I will never desire to live my life without. She has naturally red hair, the attitude to match and a body designed to tempt a demonic mind, eyes and personality. She is loving, caring, passionate and beautiful, but she is also an annoying, pain in my ass, evil to the core psycho bitch! Now, the nurse who cared for me, yesterday gave me more then just good medical care, she taught me something about how we all work. For the reason’s of writing I will simply call my fiancee Panda. Is she truly a crazy fucking bitch? Or, is she a blessing wrapped in a million loquacious layers, just life a French Croissant? I would have to go with the later.

She is kind. She is the passionate. She is the love and all the other good things anyone would ever seek in a woman. But, she is also the all in one crazy fucking bitch I so completely dream of bitching about. Growling at. Wanting to kill. Clenching my internal fists, and pulling out my hair. She is all of these things and so much more.

If I had not wanted to kill her more times then I can count, maybe you would not be reading this right now, nor would I be writing it. But, as it turns out, I have, wanted to kill her strangle her, run from her and make love to her eternally, in the past, and I sincerely prey in my future.

For those of you out there who are not foodies, please allow me to explain a bit of art called a Croissant. It was created by the French. It melts in your mouth, burns your fingers, tempts every last tastebud you own, and calls to you when you truly want something a bit healthier to eat. What makes a Croissant a Croissant, is not so much the three ingredients, but all the car that goes into the making of it. So, lets do the basics first, shall we. What are the physical ingredients; Butter. Flour. Salt.  Simple, easy beautiful. So how is it something that start off so simple can be turned into one of the most sought after forms of breads in the world? Compassion, dedication, love, joy, maybe a bit of anger and patience. Kind of sounds like a relationship, right? That is because between the chef who makes them and the and other tools needed, that is exactly what it is.

So, why and how am I writing you a blog note about the makings of a pastry and comparing it to our every day relationships of life? Because, in my opinion, it is one of the best comparisons in the world. It is also the epiphany that a beautiful nurse Jessica, gave me one Oct 5, 2015, in the University of Kentucky recovery room.

What is a relationship, in the most simplistic ingredients? It is a few things, that happen to mix perfectly to form something that is one in a billion. You meet someone, find yourself attracted to their form, i.e. body and maybe chance the words hello. From there is is no longer about what it was originally made of, but all the passion and determination that makes up our life’s. If it works out forever, or not, is up to those who create it. Will it bake its way into a perfect blend of flakey layers, melted butter, balanced flour and a dash of salt or, will it burn and become something so undesirable and grotesque you won’t believe you ever tried in the first place? You tell me!

Here is another question for you; how do the following things have anything in common? Croissants, woman, men, relationships or the words crazy fucking bitch? I think it is safe to say, that to most rational people, the answer would be, nothing. But, maybe by the end of this I will be able to shed some culinary, worldly, relationship and the power of a woman, light on that opinion.

While trying to recover, from what should have been a simple surgery, yesterday, as I stated earlier, I met an amazing woman named Jessica. Lovely to look at, good personality, at least on the surface, but as the day wound on, I felt something was missing. Now please don’t get me wrong, being single is no crime, nor is it something terrible. But this woman seemed like the perfect person for a relationship. So I asked her, after speaking yelling, crying and bitching for some time, why she was not married, or taken? Her reply, shocked me into writing this. Because I am crazy. No one would ever want to put up with me.Is it not true we all have a bit of crazy in us? We all possess something that would make, everyone else, if they knew what was good for them, run! Maybe, or maybe this is where I bridge the gap between a French pastry and the relationships of our lives.

It all starts out so simply, doesn’t it? You see them, something pulls you and the same pulls them, and over time your layers mix with their’s and then the crazy comes out. Somehow in the midst of happiness, we all start to see the crazy, maybe we were blinded to in the beginning. Maybe it was there from the start, maybe not, but here it is, and what the fuck do we do about it? Simple, we go a bitch to our friends, family, co-workers and everyone else about it…

“How can I deal with her/his OCD? Why can’t she/he drive like a normal person? Does he/she have to fucking eat the way she does? He/she never cleans, the bathroom is a disaster! I must be crazy to be dating him/her!”

…and on it goes, till we burn the beautiful layers we had created, in the beginning. No more Croissants, just burn ingredients and a broken life. But why, why is it, that 9 out of 10 times this ends up being the case? Then sometimes something worse happens. One side of the equation, or the other decides, I am too nuts for anyone to want in the first place. And they stop trying altogether. Herein lies to reason for this blog. Many say beauty is only skin deep, so where does the rest come from? Why would someone so amazing, from the surface believe themselves not worthy of a good relationship, life or love? What are we all missing? Again, this is what nurse Jessica gave me yesterday in the recovery room of UK hospital. The answer to that very question.

I know from my own relationship with Panda, the good (BUTTER) could never exist without the bad, (FLOUR) and dash of crazy fucking bitch (SALT) here and there. Just like the dash of Salt in a Croissant. It is not enough to foul the taste, but just enough to balance out the rest on the ingredients. Panda is beautiful, inside and out. She has her family issues, who can say otherwise. She studies hard for a better future. She gets upset at one thing or another, but in the end, she somehow puts a smile on my face. I saw her crazy fucking bitch, from day one. I had no idea what she was going to become in my life, but it was there. Clear as day for anyone looking, to see. I also saw the beautiful, amazing compassionate parts as well. I think if we all go back to the beginning of all our relationships, we will all be able to see what I did; the flour and the butter. The dash of salt came in over time, but the overall recipe would not work without it.

My life and relationship is this. Yours is the same. It is not the simple ingredients that make it work, it is the combination of those ingredients that make it work. So to my last question, in this. How does someone get to the point where they only see the salt, (crazy fucking bitch?) Why can they not see the amazing and beautiful and more then anything else, the worthwhile in themselves? The salt is never overpowering, on its own. It is the glue that holds the rest together.

So back to Nurse Jessica. Here is, from outer first glance an amazing woman with all the things needed to start the recipe, but she no longer see’s the point. She no longer believes she has the ability to make a perfect, flakey, golden brown Croissant. It hurts me to think about, honestly it does. If it were not for Panda, I would want to give this woman a try. Maybe make more then just one Croissant, maybe we would want to make more. Somehow this note has to make it into her hands. She has to realize that without her crazy the beautiful compassionate loving nurse, would not be worth fighting for. In the event you are reading this, know this; from the depths of every part of my now healing being, you are worth fighting for! Your Croissant is just as amazing as all the other Croissants in the bake shop. Please give yourself that chance, I would.

 

Eternities Gate

eternity

Your mind has read, your heart now sings
for destinations lost.
forever walk, not stumbling
our paths forever crossed.

For stolen song, or broken lives
the winds scream out in pain.
Hold up your head, look to the sky
and never doubt again.

For memories lost, we sing out loud
and hope for time to come.
one life is spent, set to the next
forever we are bound.

These words I write, to tempt you on
you must forever learn.
My mind is here, stand strong I sigh
I hope that you may yearn.

For freedoms song, for endless days
for nights to rest at last.
No more your tears, nor shattered lives
will linger in the past.

Stand with me now, with heads held high
for time is sure to wait.
Hold open hands to bring us by
look through eternities gate…

(9) Uninvited Guests

Uninvited Guests

If mother had thought these men would need two days to make up their mind, she was completely wrong. The first evening came and went without any problems, the second night, mother and I both knew something was coming. The air was completely still, fog had moved in as soon as the sun and set. It was as if evil had settled over the valley. Mother and Jensen had retired to their third story room early. The twins were roaming about the house, doing who knows what. Aspen and I were sitting in my room, windows open and senses on full alert.

Everything that could have been prepared for our journey tomorrow had been done. We had early morning tickets on the rail heading north into Scotland. I knew a boat would have to come into play, at some point, but I also knew mother wanted to draw as little attention to ourselves as possible. This meant her private sailing yacht was out of the question. I honestly had no idea how we were going to find Zorgonus. As of now, he was only a voice in the back of my mind. I felt him growing more and more awake with each passing day. Mother was becoming frantic about getting under way, but I would have waited another day, if I had any say in it. Personally, I still had barely touched the sheer amount of information and memories Aspen had shared with me during our blending. I knew it may take me a lifetime to fully come to terms with it all, but I still wish we could wait. The most important question I could think of had still yet to be addressed by mother, Aspen or Anzurtashia. I felt, every time I asked another question, like the small annoying child who always wants more answers. I must admit this was the most exciting thing I had ever gone through. The only other question, I had been keeping to myself was the outcome of a plan Aspen and I were trying to create in the following six months. When Arthur returned, would I be put through hell to be broken? Would Aspen be able to protect me from his hand and will? None of these questions, of course, could be answered till the events took place, but that made all of this that much harder to endure.

Footsteps coming up to my attic made me jump, if only, just a little. I fully expected to be Jensen or mother, but as the steps came closer, they also sounded much heavier then either of the before mentioned. A man, one of the soldiers stopped in my doorway. He stood at perfect attention waiting for me to address him. Mother had told the yesterday where they could go freely in the house. the bedrooms were not amongst them. I knew everyone in the house could feel the tension in the air, this man was no different. They had introduced themselves last night, but with so many and all looking alike, it was hard to tell who this was.

“I must apologize, I do not know all your names, but you are welcome to enter sir.”

“Thank you Lady Alyse. I was sent to see if you have noticed anything. The young woman and man say it is never this quiet at night, and since your mother has turned in, we would like your opinion on the topic. Can your dragon sense anything out of the ordinary?”

I had to give it to them, they were most polite. I was not accustomed to being addressed as lady, but it had a nice ring to it. I felt within for advice and opinions from Aspen. We had both felt the disturbance in the air just moments before he arrived, but what had disturbed it, neither of us could tell for sure. We both agreed it was better to accompany him down stairs and tell Master Quill, he was the one we had been told was in charge. I turned away from the window and felt the shutter again, only this time much much stronger. Aspen only had a moment to warn me, and I the soldier. I shot across the room tackling him, the best I could to the floor. Above both our heads cracks of lightening arched through the open window. Aspen sent up the alarm to mother, and Anzurtashia, they would alert the rest, if they had not already heard and felt the blast. Both myself and the man, were held to the floor as more strikes ripped through the room. Two more men showed up at the door, both hold automatic weapons at the ready. Without thinking, I knew their guns were not going to be a match for the spells being cast at the house.

Aspen heard a call from Anzurtashia, and in less time then I thought possible, we were out the window, full size and hitting the ground in all direction with blue and purple flames. Two centuries burst into flames right next to the house. It was clear they had not been warned bout the presence of dragons, otherwise they would not have come so close to the house. The mixture between a scream and cry could be heard as mother and Anzurtashia came out behind us. She had not sprayed the world with flames, but I knew she only needed a target and the sky herself would soon burn. As it were, no others came out of the shadows, but then if I had just seen my friends killed by dragon’s fire, I may have second thoughts as well. She and Aspen rose high above the ground so they could survey the land around the house. Once they were both satisfied there was no other threat, they landed on the front lawn, next the the smoldering remains Aspen had killed. As we all retook human form, I realized I was now and forever responsible for the ending of a life. The feeling this gave me did not sit well and I found myself wondering through the house not fully knowing how to proceed.

Jensen and another of his soldiers rounded a corner and I almost ran into them. I had so many mixed feelings, but the truth of what we were about to set forth on, made me realize this will, most likely, be only the first of many deaths by our hands. Aspen choose to stay quiet, but I knew this was a problem I had to work out on my own.

The man walking with Jensen was yet another I did not know a name for, but also held himself in a most professional manor. They stopped just this side of the pool door and waited for me to pass. I felt I should say something, but then came a smell I could not ignore. Mother shouted across the house and her command was felt!

“DOWN, EVERY ONE DOWN!”

The first surge of energy was enough to completely remove the southern most wall of the first floor. There were no cries of pain from any in the house, though that only meant there were still the same amount to hurt and kill with the next blow. The second blow did not tear the house down, but it penetrated the solid portion and hit all those within. The energy was old, dirty and sad. I would not have believed that energy could have feelings, but this energy had exactly that. I felt as if my heart were breaking and there was nothing I could do to defend myself or those I cared for. The very energy making me feel this way only intensified then more and more. There had to be a way to combat this, but I knew nothing of it. Aspen was in as much pain as the rest of us, but before she would lie down an quit, she would find the energy to strike. I felt her anger building within me, before I knew how to stop it. The smell I had encountered before the first blast finally hit a memory and brought fear to every limb of my person. I had only smelled it once, as a small child, it was not a smell only for ones nose, but for ones soul. I had sensed it in a small home, owned by an ancient monk.

In a home on the other side of the world, mother had wanted me to see how an ancient society of shamans’ lived. High in the foothills of the Himalaya’s a small sect of monks, had held on to past forms of ancient magics, thought by the rest of the world to be long forgotten. Kinds of magic that could mend, but mostly do things worse then kill. Enter ones mind, heart, body and life. Tear apart choices. Tear apart ones ability to make clear decisions. When the spells were cast, you would seem to see and feel events, that may or may not be going on around you. An explosion, that should cripple all those around you, but only leave you still in one piece to see more. Pain may cut through your body, but you will never find a cut in your flesh. Spells to hurt every part of you, but not actually kill you. Torture magic it had been called, and though I had never understood why anyone would want to keep such spells alive, mother had only said, all people have reasons for keeping the past alive.

It had taken many months for me to understand what I had been shown, but in the end, a simple incantation would set your mind free of such spells and all that goes along with them. The incantation had been a mixture of several dead tongues, those tongues being of the most difficult to master. One of the monks, had taken great time to make sure I would never forget it. In the end, I could recite it, even if they held me in the most painful of situations; mentally, physically or anything else.

The spell had almost over come me when the incantation hit my mind. Jensen, the soldier and I were all pinned to the ground. I looked to the other two men and realized by their reactions, they were suffering form other delusions, other then mine. I felt within me, pulled on old knowledge and spoke clearly. As the last word escaped my lips, I remembered the other part of the breaking spell. Aspen was much faster then I, but on a sharp corner, She forced me to slice open my right hand, dripping fresh personal blood over my lips as the words fell. Instantly, the house was one piece again. No broken walls, not pain, no delusions. The two men near me looked around in disbelief and then Jensen smiled and nodded in my direction. The soldier was still stunned by the moment, but he stood up tall, and offered me a hand to my feet. A hand I took gladly. Mother, the twins and the other soldiers all came into the main hall around the same moment. Everyone but mother was still confused as to how the house had come back together, but mother only walked to me, smiled and wrapped her hands around my shoulders tightly.

“I have always wondered if that trip to the Trinity monks was a waste, that was till a few moments ago. I am so proud of you Alyse. How did you know?”

“I felt it, I saw the destruction, felt the pain and something told me it was not real. Thank Aspen as well, she remembered the other part of the spell, the part I had almost forgotten.

“On that note beloved, I think it is past time we all slip out the cellar door to the back woods. The mages outside are not going to be fooled for long, we really need to get going!”

It was clear everyone in the room had been allowed to hear her, not only mother and I. I could feel the breaking spell weakening, and with it the delusions trying to reenter our minds. Aspen was trying to prepare me for her to take control, though I was not going to argue, if she did. I knew mother’s Anzurtashia was preparing her for the same. With Jensen taking the lead, mother and I  then the twins, followed by the party of soldiers. When we got to the bottom of the cellar, I saw more weapons then I had ever seen in one place. The men took up their gear, fell into a line behind us, all but one standing with Jensen. Mother was quick to mention one final warning before the doors to the outside were opened.

“Remember, you all saw my daughter and I take form yesterday, do not hesitate to run if you feel your life is in danger, we will guard you from above and behind if need be. Lets go Jensen!”

With that and no other mention the door was opened and we all filled out. There was a thick fog laying about the grounds, and black figures in full length robes almost floating here and there. I focused again, right as Aspen and Anzurtashia took control. The figures were the beginnings of new spell forming in our minds. Aspen took to the air, and turned to look back towards the front of the house. The fog was still present, but only one figure stuck out in the grey mass. This one wore a red robe, not black, and the mist all around it seemed to almost burn with red, orange and yellow light. Anzurtashia and mother were only half changed, hard to describe, but mother was still the voice, while the body was now completely dragon. The soldiers had spread out, so not one of them could affect harm on the others stood they be hit or attacked. I could still hear mothers voice, but it was starting to mix with that of her dragon.

“Hold to your minds now people, this will only last as long as we are in a certain proximity of the house.”

The last few words changed from the voice I long knew, to the rumblings of an ancient dragon. One in the same, now bettering the odds of the outcome of our current situation. As if two dragons on the wind was not enough of a hint for whom ever was attacking us to notice a change, the front area of the house burst into a mixture of dark red and violet purple. Flame pushed almost as high as we now flew. the air was still cool, but we could both feel the up flowing heat from the burst below. The men with Jensen were now at a dead run, with Jensen in the lead. He twisted and turned even after they were in the densest part of the wood. I had never been allowed out this way, mother had always forbade it, but I was sure there had to be good reasons for it. As we followed from above, I swore I knew this area, and that we were nowhere near an open water source, but on the distant horizon, coming high over the trees, I saw the twinkle of water, and a massive ship anchored in a harbor. I thought we would be safe once we broke from the cover of trees  and had an open run to the harbor, but no such luck.

As the trees started to fade off I saw Anzurtashia lose a breath of flames and roast two more mages, who had been waiting for us to come clear. The soldiers opened fire in the direction of the last mage, but every shot that should have hit true, only passed through, un-harming the mage. Anzurtashia’s energy was fading, and I could only now see, I had no control to make an attack of our own. I could not believe Aspen would allow this mage to go untouched, but a cry from far above, gave me faith of another kind. A small, but very fast green blur cam falling through the clouds above, nearly hitting us on its way down. Not as precise on its shots, as its flight, it released a burst of flame, that covered the mage, the ground and came close to killing Jensen and then unite with him.  They had ceased to fire a shot, but all were now concentrated on the new addition to those of us on flight. Aspen came to land and rest, allowing my true self to stand on the ground once again. Anzurtashia did likewise with mother and together we waited for this green blur to make another move. Wether it be with us or against us, I could not tell, but mother was smiling, and that was always a good sign.

The small green dragon landed, only meters away, and as Aspen and Anzurtashia had done alike, it shifted to a young man. Tall, long black hair and rather skinny in nature. His eyes matched that of the dragon he was just moments ago. He did not speak, but only started to walk in the direction of the ship I had seen from above. the backside of him brought about an erotic sensation, much mores then his front had. He was tall and thin, but had a nice ass, strong legs and the majority of his black hair was braided behind his shoulders. I knew I should be focused on the task at hand, but sex had her way of making me want no matter the situation or location. Mother walked up behind me, patting my right shoulder as she passed. She chuckled and spoke softly.

“I know where your mind is my dear, but try to remember we are being chased. So if you are getting the nerve to have one of your bouts, remember he may look nice, and may even do the things you want, but you know nothing about him, not yet at any rate.”

“Why else would he help us, if he were not here to aid us? Is that not enough reason to trust him?”

“In a normal world, maybe, but in the world you now find yourself a part of, never trust anyone before you have the opportunity to speak with them face to face. Only then will their eyes revel the true intentions and nature of a beast, or person.”

A soldier had walked up behind us and seemed overly concerned about us following an unknown. Mother ignored him, that was till Jensen joined us and spoke out on the same topic.

“Lady Filthaven, do you know this new dragon walker or are we just to trust him based on his willingness to aid us? I mean no disrespect ma’am, but we have one injured man, and a good distance to walk before we reach the ship, if that is where you are heading us. Please say something. I have always trusted you, but this night has left me with a sense of dread, and I simply can not afford any more ill happenings this night. It was I who sought out the men who now follow and openly mean to protect us, should they too not have any insight to the possible outcomes of the night?”

I had to give it to him, he had never been one to question mother, but the events this night had never been on the table either. Mother stopped walking as did the young man ahead of us. He did not turn to face us, but he did slightly turn his head, as if to listen to mothers words. But it was not mother who spoke, it was him.

“Rest all your fears, followers and family to Anzurtashia. She requested aid, and I am only the first to arrive. I mean none of you harm, and yes the ship on the water will be your transportation, just as soon as we arrive. I think you all should know, the red robed mage back at the estate is no longer in pursuit of you, but I doubt seriously, this is over. Not even for the night. Annabella, I will be aloft should need me again this night, you only have to call.”

And without a turn, he jumped and changed back to the small green dragon he had been before he landed. Jensen could only shrug in my direction. the men did not seem to take this as any kind of god news, but mother actually laughed out loud, as if there was no more danger that may overhear her. The sound of her laugh was something more then I had heard in a very long time. Now knowing her true nature, not only that of a stubborn human only, but that of a dragon of ole’ as well. The laughter had to prompt something, but the moment I no longer wanted the answer is made a call from far behind us. Mother and I turned to face the threat together. The men and Jensen moved forward, hoping to reach the shore before it could catch up with us.

Mother and I stood our ground, but the green streak shot across the sky making a sound, no mortal would never dare to challenge. A small group of men and women alike broke cover from the forest far behind us, but this was not what I feared the most. The creature standing behind them was one I had never even seen in the old tales. It had the head of a massive serpent, the body of a lizard and the tail of a spiked dragon. Although mother and I now had another dragon to fly besides us in battle, I was not convinced we could master this new foe. It was twice the size of Anzurtashia and myself, but more than that,  it did not seem at all taken back by our presence. I turned my sight from it to mother and the green flash moved across the sky again. He came to land right behind us, retook his human form and smiled. He and mother knew something I did not, but we were all about o find out.

“Is there even a name for that thing, or am I just to call it thing?”

“A name Alyse, do you truly want to name the creature about to try to kill us all? Would your time and attention not be better spent on looking for possible weaknesses? Elson, what do you think of her need for a name?”

“I would generally agree with your daughter, not only about wanting the name of that thing, but also the possible chance to see who comes out on top, should we get out of this alive. Though, Alyse I am flattered that you think I have a nice ass, yours is most luscious as well. What do you say love, kill the beast, forget the name and fuck every part of the other till nightfall tomorrow?”

“Now your talking about things that truly matter. Elson, is it, well Elson, I say we find a way to kill that thing and then you sir, will be below me for some time to come.”

“Really now, so sure of yourself are you?”

“Both of you may want to focus on the threat that is now very close at hand, PLEASE!”

It was clear we three were out matched for this new threat. Though the idea of having a new playmate to share a bed with, was more then enough to chance dying over this night. Besides what else were we going to do, it was not like we could call the police and hope for the best. Mother was shaking her head as Elson and I kept making sexual glances at each other. Impending death, yes. Impending torture, most likely. Possible hours of amazing sex, I could only hope so. We found out, with the first strike it was the tail that was going to be the death of us all. Mother, Elson and I all launched ourselves into the air, we could only hope to hit it with as much dragon fire as possible. The first wave of flames brought the creature down a few notches, but did not kill it. It only walked out of the flames, more angry then it had been before.

By the third attack by we three, my energy was more than fading. Thought of a good fuck, all but gone from my mind, Aspen lost control for only a moment, but it was far too long. A shadow of spikes flew at us from its tail, and the fighters who had only now begun their attack. One such spike caught our back right paw, and the pain, as if burning in a pool of acid, brought us to the ground. It had never occurred to me, that the dragon part of me would only fade should it be put on the ground during a fight, but I was now in human form again, running for the boat, while mother and Elson continued to showed the creature and warriors from above, but mother was the next to get struck with a poison spike, and fall to the earth. Mother was worse off then I had been, now only limping in my direction. Elson dove and twisted upwards staying just out of reach giving us time for a possible escape. It would seem my hopes for a good morning of sex were going out in flames. Mother fell into my arms as she reached my position. I feared to look at her, but then a small set of words gave me new hope.

“They are coming!”

Breaking the Chain’s – Dark sexuality Vs. Human Slavery

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Today, in our media, and around the globe, certain kinds of sex and darker kinds of roll playing have recently been introduced to the mainstream lifestyle. Through books, media and the internet, people have radically been thrusted into a possible lifestyle change, that is not only dangerous, but a deeply personal choice as well. Many in the adult population today are not fully aware of the serious nature of Satomasochism. They do not fully understand the extreme nature change between this kind of lifestyle, and the act of enslaving a human being, against their own will and forcing them to take part in sexual acts and human slavery. Many, including myself, till recently think that the old world kind of slavery is something of our past, not present. I, myself had thought that only third world countries still dealt with that kind of mistreatment of humans, but recently, I found out through a special section of 1CNN, The CNN Freedom Project, that slavery is still very much alive in the twenty first century.

So, how do we teach the youth and newest generations of the adult civilized world, to choose wisely between what is still your own personal choice and being taken against your will and forced into a life for anthers gain? Personally, I would hope the knowledge would be a simple choice. But when it comes to human greed, there seems to be no limit with some individuals. Some people seem to have no problem in taking care of themselves, and maybe their own family, but still using others to pay for their comfortable lives. For any out there reading this blog, please note, I do not, in any way agree with any act that hurts or jeopardizes the safety, and individuality of any human being. We all want to live our lives our on way. We all want some kind of a future and most want families. To take that choice away from any other person is, amongst the worst acts any can do to another.

How can people learn the safe way to engage in dark sexuality, and S&M, and learn that some parts of our world should not be compared or engaged in? My past log, too many shades of Grey does not tread into the black, noted too much grey area now-a-dye, in our acts of sexuality, but what limits your personal activities, should depend on a few, if not more aspects; Are you causing permanent harm to your partner? Is the act consensual between all parties? Did you discuss all the roles each person is to take, before starting, and did you both agree? If you are unfamiliar with what you are doing, don’t just jump in all at once. Never take the chance that your actions, or the actions of your others will leave long term effects, of any negative nature. Consult books professionals or up-to-date clubs in your area. If you are unsure of the true nature of human slavery today, look to CNN, look at the destructive power of these acts in other parts of the world. India, Nepal, most of Asia, and even your home area, whether it be the US, the UK, Europe or anywhere else. Believe me, it happens there more then most of us want to accept.

Slavery is the trading, selling and misuse of people for work through forced labor. Sex and brothels, in the act of sexual slaves. The buying, selling, and trading of people as if their lives were worthless for anything else. When I think about my fellow person’s, I think of other minds, smiles, pain and possibilities for all our futures. I have serious problems looking to the person next to me, and see something, not someone. I hear their voices, see a small part of their every day life and possibly see their friends as well. The sheer idea of taking that person and forcing them, through abusive actions, threats or the possibility of death, to do any number of actions in the attempt to make only my life better. We all breath the same air. We all dream of a future not yet reached and we all feel pain, suffering and sorrow. I sit now, in a Starbucks on the campus of Northern Kentucky University and watch all the people around me and see so many possibilities. Yes, I live in the United States, but I have been to and visited many other countries too. In my life I have been helped by too many to thank, too many to remember and too many to repay, but I now, thanks to the opening of my own eyes, I have a way to thank them all. I take the chance to educate, inform and help all those who have had the gift of a positive life, and their freedom removed without their consent. I write and hope others will read about the pain I feel now for a small but very real part of our world still spinning out of control.

2From CNN I saw online, it is said there are approximately 35.8 million slaves currently on our planet today, (as of 2014) This is, “the smallest number of people in slavery in the history of the human race.” Though this should make me feel a bit better, it only brings me more pain. This world, not this country or that has been created by the suffering of others since the inception of human beings. That is more then ten thousand years of suffering, beating, hurting, lying, manipulating and killing of innocence to better the goals of individuals. Today there are more and more people trying to come together, to break the chain’s we have all had influence our lives since the beginning. Peoples all over the world want the act of slavery to stop. We have to find a way to free our word, free our minds, and free our hearts, so others can join in a better world for tomorrow.

Before I finish this note, I want to mention the main section of people who are still being enslaved in our world today; women and children! More then 80% of taken slaves today are women. Runaways from America, children from lesser opportunities in every walk of life. Abandoned, lost or mistreated looking only for a way out. I ask you please, look into your area, look into your country and take a stand for all those who can not stand on their own. Help the organization’s and people trying to brake the chain’s of slavery.

Thank you.

E.H. Rashkae