Thursday, December 22, 2011

The Many Philosophies of Vampires

Happy Holidays everyone!  It’s been so long since I posted.  I’ve been very busy but I do long to write. This blog is about something I have been pondering a lot since I started writing my story about nymphomites.  The subject is Vampires.  What is it about them?  The question isn’t why are vampires so popular lately?  The question is why have vampires been so popular since their inception?  Every generation seems to spawn a new vampire trend and there’s just no escaping it. I’ve been pondering the literary and societal significance of vampires in my own twisted and philosophical mind.  It’s one of those subjects that can make my mind go off into infinity or be reduced to absurdity.  Vampires are scary, beautiful, ugly, funny and archetypical.  Below is a list of reasons why they are so universally popular.

Vampires are immortal and immortality is cool:  There are some people who wish to be immortal.  While this is against nature, many of us still crave the idea of being young forever, never growing old, becoming frail or getting wrinkles.  To think, we will never be sick, never be helpless and never lose strength.  There is self preserving aspect in us that simply doesn’t want to die. If we could be young forever, that would be so cool. We would be powerful and strong too, just like the super heroes of popular comic books.

Immortality is mythical and godlike: Some authors have taken the immortality of vampires to a mythological level.  Their vampires are like Gods that have been around for eons. These stories are epic, like the classic myths of ancient civilizations that are still told today.  These vampires are powerful and want to keep their power much like the Greek Gods. Some authors attest that vampires are the Greek, Roman, Norse or Egyptian Gods.  Some establish them as other characters from mythology such as fallen angels or Judas Iscariot. They rule societies and cast off enemies and create legendary battles and stories.

Immortality is historical:  The vampires who have lived for hundreds or thousands of years have a thing or two to say about history.

Immortality makes us think of our own mortality: On a smaller scale, vampires make us ponder our own mortality.  Seeing someone who is immortal makes us realize that we are mortal.  This can be life affirming.  We wonder what we would do if we lived forever which makes us think of what we should do because we don’t.  We look at our accomplishments and relationships deeply and we are moved in a subconscious way.

Immortality means your species can’t evolve: Not being able to evolve can be sad.  It means that after hundreds of years, you get bored.  There is nothing left.  So vampires become quite dark and depressing.  It also means that they are pure.  Vampires are a species that hasn’t changed and this appeals to those of us who like to learn about ancient civilizations and species that no longer exist.

Vampires are good looking and sexy:  Because they are forever young and powerful, vampires have sex appeal.  Sex sells.

Vampires are hideous and scary: The scary vampires appeal to our own love for anything horrifying.  We tell stories around the campfire and dare ourselves to not be afraid.

The lust for blood is a symbol for greed, sex, or hunger:  I experimented with this idea a lot in my book. What if I compared the hunger for food with the hunger for sex? I sometimes think that hunger is the worst feeling one could ever have and when we are starving, we do desperate things.  It is often confused with the hunger for sex which isn’t quite the same thing.  Still, we desire things and we are often ruled by these desires.  Literature gives us a great escape by indulging us in these desires.  Greed is another example of desire which is compared to hunger.  We are reminded of our own barbaric nature which can be a breath of fresh air when we are constantly told how to be civil by authority figures.

Vampires change from humans to something else: Vampires are immortal and don’t evolve but when they turn from humans into vampires it is a different story. This is evolution in of itself.  We are reminded of our own loss of innocence.  We are subconsciously reminded of a time when we realized that life may not be the way our parents taught us it should be.  It represents a time in our lives when we did something we weren’t supposed to do and will never be the same. It reminds us of our own inner guilt, our struggles to let go of someone who we no longer are, and our own longing for a simpler time. It also reminds us of how easily we can be led to evil.  We don’t want to be transformed and fight the temptation.  Some people beg to be transformed and want to change completely.

Vampires are at the top of the food chain: Humans are horrifying enough.  We are at the top of the food chain and have the ability to kill any animal.  So, when we ponder the idea of another species that is more powerful than we are and that feed on us, it is compelling. We are humbled as we put ourselves in the shoes of our own victims.  We kill animals and plants. We wreak havoc on Mother Nature.  So do vampires and they do so at our expense.  Finally, we know what it is like to be the victim. It gives us perspective and something to truly fear.

Vampires are dead:  They bring us closer to our own obsession with death. We like to think that nothing will really die. If our loved ones never died, would we let them be vampires so we don’t have to let them go? We are fascinated with death and want to be close to it.  We want to understand death and know that it is not the end of everything.

Vampires are like a disease: When they bite you, you become one. This appeals to our fear of disease, of germs, of catching something that might kill us or change our lives forever.

I can go on and on about why vampires are entertaining.  They bring up universal ideas that lie in the psyche of every individual. They can be hideous or beautiful, immortal or dead, godlike and archetypal, evil or good, funny or menacing, dark or silly, barbaric or sublime. There have been so many takes on vampires and I can’t say I like every interpretation but I do like the fact that people still tell vampire stories.  Why do you think vampires are so popular?

Sunday, September 18, 2011

TIME

I remember an old T.V. show about a girl who was half alien and she had the power to stop time by touching her two index fingers together. A ding sound would chime and everything would be frozen. Then, whoever she touched would come out of the trance but time would still be frozen. What a cool power!!! I wish I had that power. It seems I'm always watching the clock. First I have to be here, then there. It's like a race. I even put aside some down time but it often gets overrun by time you didn't plan for esp. when cars break down and kids get sick and the down time turns into take the car to the shop time and the kid to the doctor time etc. etc. Then one day, the race just ends.


I guess it was the same before we ever had clocks. The sun told the time. Before there was ever electricity, we raced against light. But when that sun went down, we had to stop what we were doing. That is, until we invented fire. Forget about electricity, fire was the big light bringer. I bet ancient man felt so full of himself back then. "I made fire. I beat time. Mwahahhaahahah!" Such fools we are.


Someone told me that time is an illusion but if it is, then everything is an illusion. As long as I live in this reality, time is as real as the night and day. I used to think I had power over it, the way the first inventor of fire did. In my youth, I stayed up all night, worked all odd hours, attended school, partied and kept going and going, wearing our my adrenal glands with the idea that sleep is only for the dead. But nature has a way of slapping you in the face when you don’t listen. I started hallucinating; dreaming while awake and I realized that I wasn’t an exception to the rest of the human race. Then, when I graduated, I slept. I slept for a good week. I went to work and realized that I remembered things better and was sharper than ever. To this day, I have no idea how I functioned on no sleep or what it looked like to others.
We have invented machines that get us places faster and ways of growing food more efficiently. We have formed farms and cities to control nature. As an unintended consequence, we also invented smog, global warming and oil spills. We thought we knew something. We thought we beat nature but nature has a way of slapping us in the face.


Why are humans so hell bent in controlling nature? Is it because we were made after the image of God and we have the urge to create in our DNA? Yet, somehow, every choice we take to conquer time and the elements backfires. So I’ve accepted my fate and have stopped wasting my energy trying to conquer realities such as time. I think that when we are born, we are only given a certain amount of time. It’s in our DNA. We live, fighting it, afraid of the change that will come when it’s all over. It only reminds me how precious time is and I could spend all my time trying to fight it or I can spend my time enjoying every second of this finite life.

Thursday, September 15, 2011

When I saw my reflection in the snow covered hills....

Truth is I'm changing.  I've changed so much I hardly recognize myself.  I'm changing for the better really, my whole mindset is maturing.  I don't accept excuses or silly melodrama.  I know that if I want something, I should just do it.  But I sometimes don't know what to do if I can't do what I used to do 'cause it's not me anymore.  I know, it makes no sense but I'm writing this more for me now.  Everyone we ever were, we love.  And when we change, we mourn a bit of ourselves.  We can be changing for the better.  We could be on the verge of enlightenment but some part of us hangs on to our old selves.  After all, it was a lot easier to be a lesser person than we are today and I do miss the crutches I used to fall on.  

I miss the way I used to write, not like how I write now isn't bad.  When I was a little kid, I didn't even think about writing.  I wrote the most incredible stories and used my imagination to see how far I could take them and I loved doing it.  Then I changed somewhere along the way.  Some English teachers started making me think I had to put meaning in everything.  I spent so long trying to find that old kid in me again.  But she's gone.  It's the things I really want that I'm afraid of doing 'cause I know what the cost is, my heart and soul and dreams and wishes.  

I'm just writing to relax.  No clarity tonight, no poetry, no sweet imagery.  Maybe I'll read this tomorrow and learn something about myself.



Thursday, July 14, 2011

Notes on the Introduction to Tantra Workshop

I haven’t written a blog here in a while because it is hard to know what to write.  Part of me wants to write anything but then I realize that anyone could be reading my secret thoughts and I hesitate.  I’ve been suffering from some writer’s block lately.  Or am I just too busy juggling the various aspects of my life to sit still and write?  I have to be so many people all at once.

My latest novella is a work of erotica that is pretty exhausting to read.  The sex scenes are very bold and they consist of descriptive climaxes that are comparatively more intense than the average orgasm.  I have to say that in marketing this novella, I have separated myself a bit from my own sexual nature.  It’s as if I’m afraid that thinking too much about sex will interfere with my other roles.  I suppose this is why the subject of sex has not been addressed in this blog as much as I initially thought it would be.

The other day, I attended an introduction to tantra lecture and I was forced to re-connect to my own sexual energies, the energies I have written happily about in the past.  The teacher, Shama Helena, had a very intuitive sense about why people hit blockages in their relationships and in themselves.  She said that as children, we are energetic and lively.  We are like walking orgasms.  Then we are told to sit still and be quiet.  We are taught that pleasure is naughty and we have to hide our excitement.  In the workshop, Shama encouraged us to go into our bodies and breathe and be aware of the various parts that we have cut off because we are told that to acknowledge them would be “naughty”.  This was my first public tantra session but Shama made me fill at ease by having us all close our eyes.  She ensured us that no one was looking and she had us breathe deeply into our lungs and imagine the energy inside us reaching those “special places”.  Once again, I felt that very important and significant part of me waking up. 

As I got to know her, Shama told me that she has approached the seminary and asked them if she could train the priests in tantra so they could deal with their celibacy better.  She was turned down.  She is looking into teaching it to teenage boys so they would feel less powerless over their erections. I find Shama to be a very freeing and interesting person.  She made me ask myself if we are trapping each other with our need to cut off or control our sexual natures.  Shama said that our sexuality is beautiful and spiritual and blissful, yet there are people out there who think that it is gross and evil.  Is it really healthy to cut off a very strong part of ourselves, a part of ourselves that is such a huge source of energy and love?

Shama said that when we cut ourselves off from our sexual feelings we do not enjoy the sensual pleasures that make the exploration of love so blissful.  Men just want to stick it in and women are left unsatisfied or they are so cut off from their sexuality that they are afraid of experiencing the penetration of love.  Yet, if we take the time to explore every different sensation, we experience more connection, more bliss, and greater climaxes.  We feel things we that we would have never felt had we not taken the time to explore and get to know ourselves.  We learn things about our bodies that it had been trying to tell us and we take better care of ourselves.  

One of the students at the workshop said that everything he learned will make him more spiritual.  He said that he was Buddhist and he practiced meditation and he realized how much his sexuality was a part of that.  What if we were all allowed to show love and affection without the fear of sex?  I am reminded of how different we perceive things when we tear down the labels that society has given them.  All life is a grand and awesome experience.

Saturday, May 28, 2011

My Past Life as a Fortune Teller

My past life as a fortune teller
When I say "past life" I mean, it was many phases ago.  I've been many things, lived many lives in this one lifetime.

When I was very young and living in another country, my older brother bought a deck of tarot cards.  He was fascinated with the mystery of them.  He tried to scare and intimidate me by saying he was messing with something evil.  I wonder to this day if he really believed that or if he was just trying to scare me as older siblings often do.  It was just a deck of cards.  He made it seemed like it was scary to look into other people's fortunes.  I guess there is a fear factor involved, depending on who you are.  I was never one to scare easily.  That is the only thing about me that is creepy.  Perhaps this is the reason why I saw things so clearly.  I could see through people.  I was not moved by fear.

I was given my first deck of tarot cards in high school.  One of my best friends became fascinated by them.  We studied books on the tarot, on the symbols and what they meant.  My friend was going through a very tough time.  He was coming to terms with the fact that he was gay, something he had denied all his life.  He never wanted to tell me, but I figured it out and kept the secret.  To his surprise, I didn't freak out.  I simply saw it as news, nothing more.  I was never one to judge people but this was high school and kids could be cruel.  He picked the card "The Devil" to represent him.  Looking back, it was the perfect card.  At the time, his whole world was unfolding and it must have seemed like such a temptation and he must have felt like the greatest outsider.  But cards change as we do.  They are only phases and represent our own attitudes at the time.

He liked to study astral projection and gave me a book on it.  I suppose he wanted to escape the world.  I never understood the need for people to escape their body and try to understand some other astral world before being able to understand what is right in front of them.  Even when I accidentally succeeded in it, I still didn’t see the point.

Not long after graduating high school, I visited The Psychic Eye Book Store and was drawn to a beautiful tarot deck.  It was called The Tarot of the Old Path and the symbols spoke to me.


I spent a summer working at residential camp.  I taught programs there.  After 10PM, I had some time to myself.  The counselors got an hour off from manning the cabins.  We'd go to a little dorm area with a lounge and chill out.  I'd take out my deck of cards and study them, their symbols, what they meant and what I felt from them.  I started reading for people but I told them I was just a novice, just learning.  Every once and while I'd have to refer back to my book.

The funny thing is, I'd ask the subject if they had a question for me, and they always would.  But they never want to disclose what it was.  One boy was very excited about an upcoming venture but he wouldn't tell me what it was.  I told him that if he did what he was going to do, he would get what he wanted, but it wouldn't be worth it. 

The next morning, I didn't see him at the camp circle.  He had been replaced by the gofer boy.  I later learned that he snuck off to see another counselor who he had a crush on.  The only thing is, she was camped out with the other kids at the time.  He was fired for this transgression and so was she. I learned my first lesson, that people won't ever heed the warning of a fortune teller.

When I was younger, I started writing in a journal.  I'd write my dreams only to learn, later on, that many of those dreams came true.  Dreams are easily forgotten.  So imagine my shock when I went back to read those papers only to find that some dreams, that seemed so surreal at the time, were just images of a future I would never have imagined for myself.

I saw things such as the destruction and falling out of my martial arts school due to conflicting belief systems and the falling out of my parents’ marriage, and the great 95 quake that shook and tested the mental capacity of many Sothern Californians before they happened. I was so young then and these came to me as impressions and dreams and all were frightening at the time.  One lady gave me solace.  She was a yoga instructor and fortune teller herself.  She told me I had to learn to help those who I felt such bad energy from.  She said I had a gift and that I'm a healer, and that I couldn't run away from that.  But I didn't know how I could possibly help anyone.  When you are young, all change is scary because you don't know yet, that things happen for a reason.   So I left

I moved to NY to seek my fortune.  I lived with some roommates in the ghetto.  I would read for them just for fun.  I remembered some neighbors coming over to hang out.  One guy was curious, the other had to leave.  He just walked out.  He thought what I was doing was evil and I sensed such a great and irrational fear from him.  I still find that funny.  I recall my brother's first impressions of the cards.  This man had similar impressions, but he was scared out of his mind.  He believed that something bad would happen if he had anything to do with them.
  
Funny how what is evil and scary and dangerous to one person can be a friend and nurturing companion to another. Also, I learned that fortune tellers themselves have impressions.  A fortune teller told a friend of mine that she would meet a man full of chaos and to stay away from him.  Years later, she married that man and told me he was the best thing that ever happened to her.  She thought she couldn’t have kids and this man gave her three.  Their marriage lasted over ten years before they got divorced.  So, I guess the question is, was he or wasn’t he good for her? Fortune tellers can’t answer these questions.  No one can.

I recall the first time I read for one of my roommates.  She wouldn't tell me her question but I did the reading anyway and tried somehow to answer.  The symbols and the way they set themselves in the spread were dark.  I saw bondage, knives, lots of knives.  I looked at her in awe and asked her what her question was.  She said, "why?"  I said, "Because there is a lot of conflict, fighting, knives, bondage, feelings of being trapped.  "That's weird," she said, "I just wanted to know who killed my uncle."

"How did he die?"

"He was stabbed 29 times"

I don't remember if I solved her mystery for her.  I just remember that was as dark as it got.  That was not the reason why I stopped reading the cards.
I guess there were many reasons.  I got bad at it is one.  I lost my touch.  I fell in love, moved on, became very focused on my own life.  How can we be there for others if we are not together ourselves?  I became practical.  I'm still practical.  'Cause really, what does it matter if I know the future.  I saw 9/11 as clear as day.  It didn't make any difference.  We have the power to change things yes, but I don't think I am making the most progress by knowing the future.  We can misinterpret the future anyway.  Things that seem like bad omens can turn out to be blessings in disguise.  No one ever heeded my warnings when I read their fortunes.  They went ahead and had their little disasters and learned their lessons on their own.  It never made a difference what I said.  I stopped reading horoscopes.  I stopped looking into people's hearts, none of my business anyway.  I'm done being a sadistic voyeur.  This life is a mystery and whether I know the future or not, I am a fool to think I am anywhere near grasping it.  I think it's a waste of time.  So read fortunes and have your fortunes read.  Do it for fun.  But don't take it seriously because you will never truly understand the future until it happens.  The present is what is important.

I still have that old tarot deck, wrapped up in silk.  I wonder if they print it any more.  I pulled it out a few times but really didn't get much out of it.  It's just a piece of nostalgia now.  I have completely blocked out my ability to make any more of the cards than good art.

I might still have it though.  One day I decided to take a restorative yoga class.  The lounge for the center was situated outdoors and it was a windy and cold night.  I thought I'd sit inside, by the desk.  I had never been to the place before.  I knocked and the instructor's dogs came to my door barking up a storm.  The instructor appeared, annoyed that I interrupted her class and told me to wait outside.  This is what I get for being early.  She rubbed me the wrong way so I, being in a yogic mood decided to try to find something I liked about her.  I held the poses in class just enjoying the quiet.  I saw a vision of the front of the room.  Someone was sitting there.  Perhaps it was her but my days of interpreting my visions are long gone.  I saw a figure of a tall man with a beard and a great cross coming out of his back bending over to hug her as she sat there.  I made nothing of it, just another vision as many I have had.  But something told me to tell the lady about it afterwards.  Maybe she could get something out of it that I couldn't.

When I did, she was aghast, almost in tears and I wondered if I had described someone who passed away.  No, that wasn't it.  And I was wrong to ever make any assumption in my mind.  She was to be baptized the next day and she believed the figure to be Jesus. She said that she felt that she was being hugged, as in my vision, that whole month.  She thanked me so much for the vision.  I guess I still got it if I want it.  But really, I don't.  Or do I?

Saturday, May 21, 2011

Why I Write

Last week I spoke to a book promoter.  We all know that it is easier to promote non-fiction than it is to promote fiction.  She asked me why I write fiction when I could obviously write about a subject that I am an expert in and use my book to promote my business.  I told her that I’ve been writing fiction since I was a little girl. I still have several unpublished works that I would like to get out there.  I started writing before I ever started doing what I do for a living.  She gave me the sound advice to write a book about my job (which shall remain anonymous).  I already have a following and writing a non-fiction book about my practice will enhance business sales and help me save up money to promote my next fictional work.  

This was very sound advice and she was right.  Hec, my husband has told me the same thing.  Unfortunately, I have two personalities.  There is the very knowledgeable lady who makes money being an expert in her profession (which shall remain anonymous).  This lady is very sane, very practical and very focused.  But then there is my other personality, Lacey Reah.  Lacey Reah is wild, outrageous and passionate about life.  Lacey Reah cries at movies and her eyes shine when she sees something inspiring.  She reads books and gets lost in them.  She loves a good story.  Lacey Reah is who I am when I’m not making money and she has always wanted to write fiction.

After speaking to this book promoter, my two personalities started to collide and I started looking into the idea of focusing more on my business.  Then, I read something beautiful and I watched a movie that took me away.  What is wrong with fiction? What is wrong with escaping into the life of another person and seeing the world in a different perspective?  What is wrong with writing a story, with reading a story that challenges the imagination and inspires others in a non-conventional way?  When I indulge in my hobby of reading, or watching a play or a movie, I remember the reason why I write.

I don’t write for money or to get more clients. I write because I have to.  I write because deep down inside me is a boiling pool of passion and if I don’t write about what I feel like writing about, I will explode.  I write to preserve the beautiful moments in my life in symbols or in stories I make up.  I write because it feels good.  I write to experiment with ideas and philosophies that are important in life. They may not have a place in the office or in my profession but they make my life richer.  I write so people may read my works and laugh or cry and think.  

In my struggles to tell the world about my novella, Fireflies, a novella that is erotic with a great plot and characters, I asked myself if the novella is not successful, would I do it again?  Would I give up writing?  I’m almost done writing a story that explores faith, prejudice, religion and society.  It was a struggle to write but if it isn’t successful and I went back in time, would I write it again?  Absolutely.  I had to write it.  It helped me to deal with issues I could never understand if I didn’t make up a story about it and put myself in the shoes of characters who are not me. 
Why do I write?  I write because I have a voice and if no one is there to hear it, I’ll still write.  I’m a writing fool I guess:

I end with a quote from Faulkner's speech at receiving the Nobel Prize:

"I believe that man will not merely endure: he will prevail. He is immortal, not because he alone among creatures has an inexhaustible voice, but because he has a soul, a spirit capable of compassion and sacrifice and endurance. The poet's, the writer's, duty is to write about these things. It is his privilege to help man endure by lifting his heart, by reminding him of the courage and honor and hope and pride and compassion and pity and sacrifice which have been the glory of his past. The poet's voice need not merely be the record of man, it can be one of the props, the pillars to help him endure and prevail."




I'm curious, why do you write?

Friday, April 15, 2011

What Would You Do?

I wrote this blog many years ago under another alias.  One of my friends told me about this news story:
A corrections officer from Florida was calling up fast food restaurants claiming to be a local cop and telling supervisors to hold and question employees about a fake crime that they had supposedly committed. In one case at a McDonalds, the supervisor made a 17 year old girl take off all of her clothes and then let her boyfriend (not an employee) rape the girl because that's what the "detective" told the boyfriend to do.  So the boyfriend did it.  We have been conditioned from birth to follow blindly the orders of authority.  Even the most horrible orders won’t make the ordinary man question what he is being asked to do.
At the time, a man had just killed himself over the internet.  He announced it.  Everyone went on his website to watch it happen.  He took pills.  He could have been saved.  People laughed about it.  Finally, someone notified the moderator of the site who found his location and called the officials.  The police came in to find him dead.  People were watching this happen on the web.  Some people were shocked, others laughed.  Thousands of people witnessed a man dying on the internet and just one person made an attempt to contact the moderator. 

I recall an incident in Vietnam.  I can't remember what it was called.  A group of soldiers were told to raid a village in search of spies.  They found none.  But they were so frustrated from dealing with the conditions they were dealt with in Nam that they violated the people in the village.  They took everyone, man, woman, children alike; and put them in a ditch to die.  One man, who flew a helicopter, saved the day.  He said he'd shoot anyone who'd harm those people and he managed to set them free.  Interestingly enough someone emerged a hero, though at the time, he might have appeared a traitor.  I’ve heard many versions of this story.  Even though many soldiers were guilty for brutally murdering innocent people, only one man was persecuted.  He was the scapegoat.  I also heard that these soldiers were following orders. If this is so, then why did the officials get of scot free?  So now the question is, are we right to just follow orders?  As innocent as it seems to be a blind follower of authority, there is something quite evil about choosing to remain ignorant.

I dealt with bullies growing up.  No, they never picked on me.  They picked on my friends and it seemed I was the only one to stick up for them while everyone else stood around and watched.  I even attacked a group of kids who were pestering my friend while other friends just looked on for entertainment.  They ran away.  This happened in the fourth grade.  In Junior High something similar happened, but this time, the crowd was bigger.  All they did was watch a friend of mine getting pestered by another girl.  I told them they should be ashamed of themselves.

We need to stop and think about how we laugh, ridicule, judge and kill people.  Whether it is someone committing suicide on the net, or a kid being bullied at school, or innocent people being tortured in a war, or a loving couple who simply want to get married, we have to be courageous and speak our truth.  Maybe speaking the truth won't do anything.  But it's better than nothing.  I'm starting to realize that now.  Why live my life just being a peon?
What would you do?  How easy it is to stop what is wrong.  But most people stand around, watch, laugh, and do nothing.  What would you do? 

An experiment in the seventies was conducted.  They told people to give someone electric shocks in another room.  the person would be screaming in pain, begging for them to stop, but when told to keep going, the subjects continued to inflict pain.  It was all rigged but the large majority of the people continued to do what was told to them even though they could hear that it could be torturing or harming another.  It was an experiment on the power of authority.  Who are you?  Are you the kind of person who would keep pushing the button just because that was what you were told?  People think they wouldn't.  People think they know right from wrong.  But when tested, the results are quite contradictory.


Sunday, March 20, 2011

Death

When I think of death, many things come to mind but what is strongest in my mind today is the death of Jonathan Larsen.  If you don't know who he is, he wrote the musical "Rent" and he died pretty young.  He was in his early thirties.  There is an irony to this.  Larsen died suddenly and without warning.  His great masterpiece of a musical was going on that night as a dress rehearsal.  The night of his death, his show was an instant hit.  It was just a small workshop in a small theater.  After a while, this show went on Broadway and then toured all around the world, gaining a strong following and numerous Tony awards.  That is not the irony.  The irony is that the play was a modern version of "La Vi Bohem."  It took place in the eighties when the Grenwich Village in New York was a haven for poor struggling artists dying of AIDS.  The musical was about people living their lives to the fullest even though they knew they were going to die.  The irony is that the play was inspired by Larsen's best friend who had HIV.  The irony is that his friend is still alive to this very day but Jonathen Larsen isn't. 

Larsen was afraid for his friend who supposedly, was going to die very soon.  But when I watched the documentary, watching his friend lament about the irony of this was quite compelling.  I think it has been about twenty years or more and this guy is still alive.  So if you think you know when you are going to die, think again.

The other day, I was watching a House episode about a guy who sued the cancer doctor for the silliest reason.  He was told he was going to die.  So he spent the next few months in happiness, doing all of the things he had never done.  Then he found out he wasn't going to die and he got depressed again.  So he was suing the doctor for "taking away his happiness".

The truth of the matter is, I know I'm going to die.  I know you're going to die.  I don't know when.  It could be today, it could be tomorrow.  It could be ninety years from now but I'm going to die.  That is a fact of nature we cannot overcome.  The best we can do is live every day to the fullest 'cause it can happen anytime.  So the question is not, if you found out you were going to die soon, what would you do?  The question is, what you are going to do period.  This is why I don't hesitate to tell my son and my husband that I love them and why I try to uplift the people in my life whenever I have a chance and why I try to give my all to every job I do when I'm doing it and why I take a moment to notice the clouds and the rain and the ocean and the flowers while they are there because nothing is permanent.  I love my sorrow as much as I love joy, my pain, my anger, my lust, my greed, my compassion etc... I enjoy every moment even if that moment is suffering.  Its life and you should enjoy it while it's here.  And if there is something after death, then life is preparing us for it so we should get as much out of it as we can. 

Okay, here's another story I heard from someone who now works in the claims department of a landscaping company.  There was a terrible accident and he found out that the guy who crashed the company vehicle through a fence and off a cliff just woke up and told someone he was committing suicide.  Apparently, he took some pills to make him fall asleep at the wheel, and then ran his truck off a cliff, through a road block, and into the ground below.  The truck was smashed into a small accordion.  The man was unharmed.  Now that he failed in his goal to die, he'll probably have to commit himself or owe the company a lot of money and he'll probably lose his job and how is he going to explain this to his wife?  This reason is why I don’t see death as a way out.  We can’t prolong it anymore than we can make it come faster.  We must take our focus away from things that we have no control over and indulge in the things that we do.


I can't tell you what comes after death.  It isn't something I'm focused on 'cause I'm too busy living.  Wondering about that is like wondering when you're going to die and nature has a way of hitting people over the head when they think they can control these things.  I can say this, we are all one.  This universe functions on energy that never dies.  It only changes form.  So if you die, you are not destroyed.  That would go against the laws of nature.  Perhaps you'll be recycled.  I'm not saying you'll be reincarnated.  I'm just saying that you cannot be completely destroyed according to the laws of energy.  And when our loved ones die, do they really disappear?  Really?  I don't think that is possible.  We are the essence of the universe. 

Saturday, March 12, 2011

My Greatest Fear

Growing up with an older brother meant having to endure a good scare. My brother loved to terrorize me, until one day, I decided not to be frightened anymore. He tried jumping out of closets and throwing his limp body on me as if he were a dead corpse and it didn’t faze me at all. There were other things, but I guess I just became desensitized to everything. I love my brothers. We have a great relationship but it is funny how, as children, siblings use each other to experiment on.

Perhaps it was then that I realized that what we fear has power over us. So I guess my point is that I am pretty hard to scare. I’m not afraid of all the things that people tell me freak them out. I’m not freaked out by the idea of death or killer ninjas or werewolves or monsters lurking under my bed. For a while I didn’t think anything could scare me. I was wrong. Recently, I have run into some literature that has managed to tap into my greatest fear, a fear that I didn’t know existed until now.

A while ago, I was reading an anthology about various and off beat versions of the vampire. This was a great read but I returned it to the library a few months ago and can’t recall the name of the book. If anyone knows the title, let me know because I’d like to give it credit. The book had stories from some of the greatest horror writers that ever lived such as Clive Barker and Brian Lumley. The vampires in the book were not your typical type. They fed off of things like your looks, your youth, your identity etc. Though the stories gave me the chills, I had no problem falling asleep afterwards. However, there was this one story that was written in a dreamlike way, describing a man who is at a computer convention in New Orleans. He’s at a bar and meets a beautiful woman. The story recounts his night, all of a sudden, the man wakes up and he’s in a different time. It takes a while for him to figure this out but he’s actually in the past, the day before and he needs to catch up to the future. That might not be right as it’s been a while since I read the story. It could be the other way around.  He stalks this woman out and right before he can get to her, he finds himself in the bar again, continuing the night with this lady that he’s falling for, and then he’s back at the other time. It goes back and forth and he’s chasing this woman and is trying to catch up to her.

I hadn’t finished the story yet and found that I couldn’t sleep. Something bothered me about this idea of time. Is it that I can’t control time? Is that what bothered me? Does it have to do with the fact that I have dreamed the future a few times and have seen it come true? I honestly don’t know. In my youth, I used to memorize or write down my dreams, which made it easy for me to notice when they actually come true in what appear to be dejavus, yet if I go back and read my dream journal, I find that it was a recount of a dream I had years before. This was always a freak thing with me that I never gave much thought. The reason for this is because I don’t ever know if my dreams will come true or not and the future is so foreign to me that dreams of the future show no significance so it’s not like I have super psychic powers or a gift. It’s just something about me that gives me no advantage over anyone, just a curiosity really.

Over the past ten years, I periodically suffer from sleep paralysis. I wake up unable to move due to the fact that my body has not completely woken up and the hormone that keeps me in bed so I don’t sleep walk is still in my system, making me unable to move. I try to wake up, but the more I try the worse the paralysis gets. I find that if I go back to sleep, I wake up just fine but I have experimented with this a few times and have managed to astral project and I learned that there is a very scary and hallucinatory fine line between dreams and reality. This was once a very scary experience that has turned into a curiosity, something I have gotten used to. Still, there is still something frightening about it when I stop and think about it. I am, by all accounts, extremely healthy yet I’ve had this sleeping disorder on and off for the past ten years. I still remember the first time it happened. Why didn’t I get it before and why hasn’t it completely gone away?

I started writing this blog a few days ago and now I’m back after watching most of the movie, “Inception.” Before watching the movie, I told my husband that it would frighten me. I just knew because it had to do with dreams and reality. I saw most of the movie, and then fell asleep. I woke up to see the very very end. Suddenly, I felt paralyzed in fear. My heart was beating fast and my husband couldn’t get an answer out of me. I tell the man everything but I suddenly felt distrustful of him. All I could say was, “I told you this movie would frighten me.”

So I will confess right now, what truly frightened me about this movie. It suddenly occurred to me that every memory I have could be planted. Perhaps I was once a part of a secret undercover operation and all evidence of that that has been erased and replaced with the memories of the amazing life I have led. Then an even more frightening thought occurred to me. What if this isn’t real? What if I am some crazy lunatic getting high off of this idea that I live in the perfect world with the perfect husband and this beautiful boy? What if I pinch myself one day, wake up, and realize that I’m back in my very imperfect past, a past I had been trying to break away from for years. This was a very scary thought at the time and the movie really brought that home for me. Now, I’m fine. Now, I laugh at the thought. I have no choice but to trust myself and all the government agents around me who call themselves my friends and family, but there is this very disturbing idea that it all could be fake. I could be living in the matrix and I chose this life of illusion. I could be jumping from one parallel universe to another and one day, I might find myself trapped in some other time or dimension.

What about you? What is your greatest fear?

Sunday, February 27, 2011

Who is this Lacey Reah and what is she like?

To help break the ice, I found some personality interview questions and answered them. If you'd like to know more about me, ask me anything.

1. When are you most alert morning or night? Depends on when I eat the most chocolate. ;)

2. If you were a tree (or animal) what kind of tree (animal) would you be? I would be a hawk. Hawks are sharp, strong, fierce and have foresight and perspective.

3. If you were a Star Trek® [or Star Wars®] character, which one would it be? Nothing like a geek question to verify a person’s geek status. I would definitely be Mr. Spock. I really identify with him, being half Vulcan and half human myself. Let me explain: My father rebelled against his strict religious upbringing and is a hard core atheist who believes strongly in “logic” and science. In fact, I recall him many times in my childhood criticizing me for not being “logical”. I did very well in my philosophy of logic class despite my classmates complaints that it made no sense to them so I often see things differently as most humans, noting that they don’t see the “logic” in things. However, my mother is a very spiritual and intuitive woman so like Spock, I also have a human side. I’ve learned to use both intuition and logic when dealing with my problems.

4. If you could trade places with any other person for a week, famous or not famous, living or dead, real or fictional. With whom would it be? My son

5. If you could be any character in fiction, who would you be? I would be Princess Naussica from the Studio Ghibli film, “Naussica and the Valley of the Wind.” She lives in the toxic future, where plants have become poisonous to breathe and though everyone is afraid of mother earth, she still finds it beautiful and learns how to reverse the toxins. However, she isn’t able to convince the politicians to save the earth because of their own preoccupation with war and destruction. She is fearless and follows her heart. Because of this, she finds answers that other people are too blinded by fear to see.

6. Would you consider yourself as a quiet, calm person or an active person? I’m like a puppy. One moment I’m frisky and running around in circles, and the next moment I’m calm and just lying around

7. If you could be a superhero, what would you want your superpowers to be? Super psychic powers of telepathy and telekinesis.

8. If you had only six months left to live, what would you do with the time? Tell everyone I ever knew how I felt about them and spend most of my time with my love ones, savoring every moment with them.

9. If you were a type of food, what type of food would you be? A supreme pizza.

10. Do you have any interesting habits? If so please list them (Examples might be suck on a finger, twirl hair, roll tongue, double jointed) I have monkey feet and pick things up with my toes when I don’t feel like bending over. I eat a lot, bad habit. I tend to twiddle my toes when I’m anxious. I bend back my fingers and make weird sculptures out of them. I can spin things really fast in many different ways. I kick in my sleep.

Tuesday, February 22, 2011

Philosophical Quotes from "Fireflies"

Below are some of my favorite philosophical quotes from the novella, “Fireflies.”  Although the story contains some explicit erotic scenes, it does raise many questions about the meaning of life.


Pierre is a dreamer and is satisfied with keeping his fantasies nothing but that. My dreams become goals and I learn to make them real... —Fireflies by Lacey Reah

She doesn’t snarl. She smiles instead, but it is a half smile. She is hiding something, an imperfection. There is something about her teeth, the sides of them that she doesn’t want me to see. I am fascinated by this unseen flaw. I want to know what she is hiding. Perhaps this is what is missing from my life, some mysterious flaw that I won’t want to correct... —Fireflies by Lacey Reah

How can I not go back? Was it not just the other day that I was musing to myself how perfect my life is? How perfect it was? And even then I wasn’t satisfied until I did something to perfect it even more... —Fireflies by Lacey Reah

Memories frequent my mind of a time when making love was not so rushed, when I was the one being seduced, before it became so important for me to finish the kill. For so long, the need for food and the isolation from mankind has left me indifferent to such thoughts. But lately, I find them plaguing me more and more. Then I meet her... —Fireflies by Lacey Reah

After all, I start to think, when we look back, and I mean, really look back on our lives unconditionally, isn’t it the beautiful moments in time we remember? We might analyze the stories. We might question the feelings of the past, but our true, most accented memories are the brief moments that meant nothing at all, except that they were beautiful in one way or another. I might ask myself many times whether or not I loved this girl. But I’ll never question the fact that we stood on a bed of moss, surrounded by fireflies... —Fireflies by Lacey Reah

She was stronger, but I managed to outmaneuver her. She needs to believe I’m far more powerful. It’s the only way. After all, being nice doesn’t seem to be working... —Fireflies by Lacey Reah

What was it about us? What do we have in us that allowed us to cheat death and change into something new?  I suppose the two of us were already a bit wild. Maybe it doesn’t take as much of a transformation as I think it does. Perhaps we were already halfway to becoming beasts. —Fireflies by Lacey Reah


“No, I should go. You’ve been much too kind.”
“Don’t lose yourself out there, my dear. This city can eat you right up if you let it.”
“I won’t,” I respond reassuringly.
“But there’s always something,” he continues. “Something keeps us going when everyone else has left. Even if it’s a small thing, something is bound to fuel our will to go on—even if it is just a beautiful lady, who is open enough to let me help her.”  He smiles faintly... —Fireflies by Lacey Reah

The fireflies, though scarce, hover in the darkness, watching me. What do they want? How are we connected? —Fireflies by Lacey Reah

Questions are something I thought would never bother me again. They only bother human women, women who are bogged down with the demands of civilization. Yet they bother me now. I thought I had changed... —Fireflies by Lacey Reah

I no longer see fireflies glowing in the surrounding bushes and grasses. I do not see their patterns of flashing light blessing the vast landscape of the great park. There are a few still lingering and they stay close to me. Why are they here in the summer and gone in the spring? Just like Natasha, their lives are transient. What was her fascination with them? Why are they fascinated with us? Vampires live forever. We read about them in strange books. I know the fireflies do not. They are here and gone within the span of a season. In the stories, there are rules. There are answers. People learn quite easily how to kill a werewolf or a vampire. In stories, people find answers to their dilemmas. In stories, people are handed the answers through the advice of a doctor or mystic. I read somewhere that you can make yourself human again if you kill the first vampire in the legacy. I wonder if Jesse believes such crap. Maybe she is just trying everything, hoping that she will find an answer eventually. What will that crazy girl try next? —Fireflies by Lacey Reah

We’re diseased, is what we are. We aren’t some new species of animal. We’re human and those who don’t die by our hands catch what we have. —Fireflies by Lacey Reah


You compare your life to that of a firefly but it is never that simple or fantastic... —Fireflies by Lacey Reah

“We aren’t social creatures,” Natasha once said to me. I believed her. Then why do I feel so alone? I realize now that I was a fool to believe her. What could she have known? I know nothing as does Jesse. —Fireflies by Lacey Reah

Thursday, February 3, 2011

Quills

This blog is dedicated to the character Madeleine from the famous play and movie, “Quills.”  She is a linen maid in an insane asylum who has become friends with the Marqius De Sade and even helps him publish some of his filthy writings from his prison. 

Madeleine: If I wasn't such a bad woman on the page, I couldn't be such a good woman in life. –Quills.

We once had an old friend over for dinner and he looked up at my bookshelf and laughed.  When I asked him what he found so amusing, he noted that the Holy Bible and the Collected Works of the Marquis De Sade were stacked on top of each other.  Last night, I was up with the cough and had trouble sleeping.  My husband couldn’t help noticing that if I wasn’t lulling myself to sleep with some moral or spiritual text written by the Dali Llama or Ghandi or what not, I was escaping into a fantasy world of horror or erotica.  I told him I had been reading a short story about an obsessive compulsive who was sewing up the artery of a victim he had found, or did he kill her?  It was very gory and intricate.  “This is what lulls you to sleep at night?” he asked.  
“Yes, but right next to it is the autobiography of Ghandi and His Experiments With Truth.  I’m reading that too.”  
“You’re weird,” he sighed, shaking his head.

Coulmier: But why must you indulge in his pornography? 
Madeleine: It's a hard days' wages slaving away for madmen, what I've seen in life - it takes a lot to hold my interest. –Quills

When I was a young girl in the summertime and I didn’t have to worry about going to school the next day, I amused myself by watching midnight episodes of The Twilight Zone while the rest of the family was asleep and could no longer fight me over what channel to watch on the set.  Those were my times of peace as I got as far away from reality I could to journey into a world beyond space and time. 

“But what about reality?” people ask.  “You must keep your head out of the clouds.”  Anyone who is acquainted with my life knows that my reality is quite clear.  I have my duties as a working mother and my life is run like a factory.  I have read my share of self help books and professional literature and I work very hard at my business. So when I do have time to myself, I think I deserve escaping into a dark world where I can be shocked and amused by monsters and ghosts.  I don’t scare easily, never have.  I’m not afraid of adventure and I think I’m a better person for it.  Fairy tales were once dark fiction about a castle and an evil queen and a young girl thrown into a horrifying adventure.  Stories we told when our cousin’s came over or around the campfire highlight some of the happiest times of my life.  There’s nothing like a good scare.  It takes me far away from my worries and puts me right to sleep. If I’m lucky, it might just keep me up all night.

Madeleine: Some things belong on paper, others in life. It's a blessed fool who can't tell the difference. –Quills

Madeleine: Your publisher says I'm not to leave without another manuscript. 
Marquis de Sade: I've just the story. It's the unhappy tale... of a virginal laundry lass. The darling of the lower wards where they entomb the criminally insane. 
Madeleine: Is it awfully violent? 
Marquis de Sade: Most assuredly. 
Madeleine: Is it terribly erotic? 
Marquis de Sade: Fiendishly so. But it comes with a price. A kiss for each page.  --Quills