The Big 5 (momments that changed my life.)

well lets count count down the BIG 5
5.first time i held a gun (when i was 19.)
4.first hug. (when i was 15)
3.first time i was stabbed (when i was 20.)
2. first time i was shot. (when i was 22.)
1.first time i had to shoot someone.(when i was 21 .)

Neruda Dances In The Dreaming.

“Tonight I write the saddest of lines”

 I hear this verse again and again in my dreams .words are a currency rarely spent in the Dreaming.

“Write for example the night sky is shattered and the blue stars shiver in the distance “

This rings out. The Dreaming Shifts to a land of winter the sky filled with memories, all ablaze shining like so many bright diamonds in the dark night of the Dreaming.

“The night wind revolves in the sky and sings”

The cold breeze numbs my skin .her voice is haunting in its beauty sending shivers down my spine, shivers that have little to with the cold.

“Tonight I write the saddest of lines.”

A pen is in my hand, until now unnoticed, I write under an Infinite sky.

“I loved her, and sometimes she loved me too.”

The words flow from the pen like blood from a wound.

“Through nights like this one I held her in my arms I kissed her again and again under the endless sky”

Even in the land of the Dreaming when her lips touch mine the smell of the ocean washes over me like a wave. The taste of salt is overwhelming.

“She loved me and sometimes I loved her too. How could someone not have loved her great still eyes?”

Her eyes are dark pools reflecting the broken lights of memory; they are rimmed with crystal tears glittering as the fall to the sand.

“Tonight I write the saddest of line’s to think that I do not have her .to feel that I have lost her.”

The Waves wash away the marks of her passing.

“To hear the immense night, still more immense without her and the verse falls to the soul like dew to the pasture.”

The echo of her sobs fill the Dreaming .thought is lost there is only sound.

“What does it matter that my love could not keep her? The night sky is shattered and she is not with me”

The Sun strikes the edge of the Dreaming….

Navel of Creation

  The Epic Words "Belly Button"

    

          Have you ever thought really thought about belly buttons? I mean reallllly thought about them? When I was a little kid about 4 or 5 I could think of little else. I would wonder why I had an Inny and not an Outie (About 90 percent of humans have innies.). When I was bored I would make up stories about how lint got in them (my best one was that it was the tooth fairy's lint trap and she was drying her wet laundry in our bellies.).I wondered some much about this simple part of me and now looking back I could not tell you why.  from time to time I would work myself into a panic because I thought my belly button would come untied and all of my insides would come spilling out of me ( I would find out years later that this could not happen so please don't panic.) 

     it is a little known fact that the navel is actually a  Scar and it is quite conspicuous in humans other animals belly buttons  tend to be smoother and flatter, often nothing more than a thin line, and are often obscured by fur (well some people have enough hair on their belly for this little fur fact to be true for them as well.) another fact about the umbilicus is that the Japanese  thinks that navel acts as a "symbol of center where life begins" and even have a annual belly button festivals (Heso Matsuri) and even a Belly Button Dance  called  Heso Odori . Even the earth has a Belly Button I mean people don't call it the Belly Button of the earth they call it "Navel of Creation" or the”Axis Mundi“. 

So with some many Belly Buttons out in our galaxies I am just surprised that people don’t talk about them more. 

Tonight I Write ....

      I write to you tonight faceless children of the dreaming in hopes of telling you a simple tale, More of a Hello than a epic tale really .One of the most important things a story teller can tell is his own story because knowing the story tellers tale adds the weight of that tale to every other story they ever tell .now I tell you mine, I tell it to you in hopes of finding common ground because I have been many things a sinner,  warrior and more often than not I have been a fool and this humble rant is spun more out thoughtless hubris than any real hope of enticing the imagination.

      I find that in this day and age the art of the  introduction has become outdated become unfashionable (which is strange for me as I think it is one of the most important things a person can do .) if you will. My Name is William Wright I have been on this earth for 29 glorious summers (I always think of myself as a child of summer my first memories are of summer and strangely the Ocean .)and during my many summers  I have lived in many places many of them are outside of the dreaming  places where the Fae do not dare to tread cities of cold iron and bright midnights (more that a few of the great cities of Asia , Europe  and North America .)  .

   In my youth I was a student and in many ways I still am (having  said that I am still in university .) when I grew to manhood I became a warrior and for many years I felt that is all I was . it took many years for me to see how foolish that was (people are never just one thing they are so many things you would lose count if you ever were foolish enough to try and count them.). Now i like to think of myself as many things but the first among those things is that of a storyteller ,and now i will tell you many things children of the dreaming things that i have seen first hand wonders of the world ,subjects as old as time its self .