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Carissama
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Name: Dearest Pirate
Birthday: 5/16/1989
Gender: Female
Interests: Steampunk. Renaissance Faires. Conventions. Role Play. Manga. Drawing. Tarot. 'Pre'-History. Mythology. Reading. Gaming. Equitation. Racquetball. Roller blading. Writing. Fantasy. Sci-Fi. Photography. Solitude. the Panthera genus. Animals. Fetish. Vampires. the Occult. Nature and the outdoors.
Expertise: (Can you fathom my deepness?) Cynicism. Hopeless Romanticism. Stating the obvious. Revealing my ADD and scatter-brainedness in the most amusing of manners, normally at temporary expense to my ego. Lingering on the past. Feigned indifference. Uncovering interesting tid-bits about the world everyday. Contradiction. Compassion. Procrastination. Circular Logic. Confusing others. (My bounds can know no end!)I deal, wholesale, in being... moi.
Occupation: Fodder.
Message: message me
AIM:  Tigris Lunae
Yahoo:  sekhmet_re
Member Since:
9/29/2004
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| Only to begin again. I will finally be quit of this place on the 27th. I should be home by the 31st. My parents are excited. My step-mom will cry, and I'm sure my dad will tear-up, but he'll try to hide it. They will tell me how great it is to finally have me home and how proud they are. They will take me out to eat somewhere fancy. I'll just want to sleep, but I know that it will make them happy so I don't protest. They'll ask me about everything, and I'll only be able to answer in small, concise sentences. For some reason, just like always, some how I'll end up angry. I always do, as if the attention just irritates me for a reason I can't understand. I don't do anything important enough to deserve such accolades. I don't know why I'm worried about going home; I have no basis in this fear, but for as long anticipated and hoped for as this odyssey has been, I can't yet feel myself becoming excited. I have much more to do than I think I've realized yet, I won't be able to in-process until after the holidays, as all those who hold desk jobs in the military get those days off. [I'm only slightly bitter.] And then we have a briefing by our new commander, because seeing our faces matter so much to him. I'll also finally have to find a place to live- which is something I'm not looking forward to. And then I'll finally be able to go on my two weeks of CTO. Hopefully, after that, I'll also be able to take some leave- but I can't be too frivolous as I have so many exciting ventures planned for this upcoming year already. Somehow I'll have to find a way to adjust and get back into a routine. I'm sure I'm making this out to be all too serious, as I have never had problems adjusting to anything new in the past, but for some reason I can not find myself getting excited about being back- For, once I'm there, I find that I shall be waiting all over again. The plethora of events I've planned for myself seem to apex in July at Comic Con. Long have I dreamed of attending: it is the ultimate haven for any form of nerdom. But it is not only Comic Con that stands so markedly on my mental calendar, but it also stands as the first time I shall see my love, my other half, since those days not long since past. Just the thought makes my shoulders itch and my spine tingle. I keep thinking to myself that those days can't come soon enough. And though tired of it, waiting seems like something I am well adept at. I read through all the things my knight has given me in our short time together... I've kept everything down to the envelope my song came in. They are things I will keep near until I can have him near again. Seven days is a short time, but then seven days will turn into seven months until I will feel whole again. I will seek solace in the place of Dream, and I will Dream a lil Dream of him and me. "Dream disaster, a terrible hue-
Wonderful depths of darkest blue.
Enter softly, move the soul
Emotion tender, body whole
Sail the ocean, ride the wind
Down the depths past mortal sin:
Guide me gently, bind me tight
Dark Dream Master, in the night." | | |
| No one fucked up, no one pissed me off, and I only obtained minimal bruising from handling baggage and mail today. My commander also told me that he would be more than happy to write me a recommendation package when I am finally able to x-train, I didn't even beg the question. On top of that, I have little more than two weeks left in this unpleasant country. Then, hopefully tomorrow, I get to see my soul mate one more time before I am finally quit of this place. That sounds like a roll of win to me. | | |
| I woke up on an unfamiliar couch in an unfamiliar room. I was lying on my back, with plush pillows under my head, one foot hanging off the side of the sofa. The sofa was against large open windows, the windows made a corner of the whole living room. The blinds are open, and it's storming outside, but I can't here the sound of the rain over the music of my ipod. I'm disoriented as I wake up, especially because this was not where I fell asleep at. I fell asleep on the bottom bunk in my room in Bagram. Then, lightning flashes and I notice the silhouette of a figure standing in front of the window looking at me. I stand up. My music is so loud, I can't concentrate. I rip my headphones from my ears, but the music keeps playing. Where is it coming from? Distracted, I look again for the figure in the window, but the blinds are closed now and it's gone. I know its in the house. Where is the music coming from?
It's then I realize I am dreaming and that I can do nothing about it in the dream realm. I make a mental note to not fall asleep with my music playing so loudly from my headphones again.
I turn back to searching for the figure that startled me as I awoke... But before I can take another step, my realization that I was dreaming rocked me to total conciousness.
I wake up and realize that I was me in the dream, in another place. I was wearing what I went to sleep in, and I had my ipod still clutched in one hand. I had only been asleep for two hours according to my phone.
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| The day is cold, the sky is grey, the trees are bare. It's winter. It was snowing when I came to this place which I had been to before in a different dream. There is a large, dome-syhaped hut built of large white branches or of large bleached bones covered in large, thick, animal hides. Suddenly, a cloud of black rises on the horizon- and this too is familiar; I know it to be hundreds of thousands of black, winged, bat-like creatures. I stay the pangs of panic rising along my spone as I remember that this place has something we used once before to fend them off. I run up the pelt covered step to a square block of swirled, blue glass; but as I reach up to take it in my hands, an old crone steps from behind the door flap and stays my hand.
"It does not work," she says to me.
"But, we've used it before!" I'm desperate, the cloud is looming closer.
The crone ushers me inside, "Come, child: upstairs."
And there are hard wood stairs leading up to a dusty attic. I go upstairs and she has me sit on the dusty wooden floor. She stands infront of me as I cross my legs, my wrists resting lightly on my knees. She holds her hands behind her back and leans forwards, her face comes very close to mine. "Let me in," she says, and she leans in closer. It's as if she is entering my mind through my forehead, literally by shoving herself, head-first, through me. I see blackness momentarilly and pull away, startled. The woman's face is just before me again, and I am barely able to keep my balance, having leaned back on one hand using the other to put something between her and me.
"Just let me in," she says again.
"I don't know how," I whisper as she begins to enter me again. I start to balk again, but she stays me, "Hold your hand out to me." And I reach my hand out, seeing only blackness. And it's as if I pull her the rest of the way in, and the blackness turns to into a circular cavern or perhaps oubliette with stairs carved into the sides of the weeping, slime covered stone.
I can not see the old woman, but I know she is in my mind. I can hear her footsteps echoing as she descends the slick stone steps leading further down into the depths of my mind. I worry- What is she looking for? Then I calm myself by telling myself she is my elderly neighbor from childhood; but, then I remember that she is back in oklahoma in a nursing home, not in a place in my dreams much less inside my own mind. I become frightened and freak out.
Then, I am suddenly standing with the old woman in front of me and she gestures for me to look to my left. I do. There is a stand made of some kindo of deer's or elk's horns displaying three different animal skins. There looks to be a brown bear's skin on the right, a black leopard in the center, and something gray and bushy on the left- perhaps a badger or wolf.
"You must choose one." She says.
And for some reason, I know she means that we can not fend off the dark-winged things lurking just outside and that I must run.
"Which one?" I aske quickly. She only shakes her head- I must choose for myself. I think to myself: the bear is strong, but slow; the panther is fast and agile; and the badger/wolf is ferocious and unrelenting. I choose the the leopard skin. I pick it up and don it like a cloak. Suddenly I am already down the stairs and on the porch with the black cloud of creatures nearly upon the hut.
I run- on two feet at first- until I see a dark skinned man running for his life as well. He runs towards a fence I know he can no jump. 'This is not fast enough,' I think to myself. For some reason I drop to all fours and begin running in a loping gate like the creature whose skin I am wearing. The snow is cold and crunches beneath my hands, the sensation makes me look down. The paws of the leopard skin cover my hands like gloves, and the forelegs seem to have melded into my own skin. And as if the skin know I must go faster- we run half-human, half-animal. We are slowly gain space between us and the black cloud of winged things that is chasing me. I am still running, trying to get even further away as my alarm awakens me. | | |
| I just want to go home... I want to eat Chick Fil A, to begin sewing in earnest, to wear cosplay and ren cloths, to drive my own car, to go out to a restraunt, to order drinks, to get drunk off those drinks, to have a day where I don't have to do anything but vegetate, to go where and when I please, to not worry if that haji is leaking information, to not have my sleep interrupted by IDFs and sirens, to not have to wear IBA to and from work, to not carry an M-16, to not have to watch the American(orISAFcountry)-Flag-covered casket driven by in slow procession on the backs of humvees from the chinooks that just landed, to no longer feel safe while wondering how many more men and women are dying ourside the wire for political reasons I can't understand or might not even agree with... 50 more days. That's it. | | |
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