Private Writings: Chapter #41 — The Killing
Written by Jennifer Kiley
Illustrated by j. kiley
Introduction & Chapter #1
Published on March 19th 2013
Published Early Tuesday AM
Posted On Tuesday 31st December 2013
WARNING: ADULT LANGUAGE AND CONTENT.
NOT SUITABLE FOR CHILDREN.
ALL CHARACTERS ARE FICTITIOUS.
ANYONE RESEMBLING ANYONE LIVING OR DEAD
IS PURELY COINCIDENTAL.
private writings to dr. annie haskell,
storytelling using letters, dreams, thoughts, poems, images,
music, art, scripts, psychotherapy, psychoanalysis,
inspirations, reflective comments, inner/outer workings
mind, soul, body, emotions, bipolar, mentally creative, interesting,
brain misfiring; abuse, crashes, near drownings,
hallucinations, heightened sexuality, time warps,
finding answers, unsolved mysteries, infatuations,
imagination, fantasy, discover self, soul, eternal serenity, bliss
see you down the rabbit hole.
namaste! madison taylor
It’s the Way You Love Me
Private Writings: Chapter #41 — The Killing
Tuesday 24th June 2008
One of our animals died. Molly, my horse, at least the one I always ride. She lived 34 years. It was a week of joy and flips over to death from being way too old to be alive. What makes the best age to die? If life gets out of control. You feel you have no future. Those who earn from you, aren’t earning. What is the solution to this problem? Who earns more, a live Picasso, or a dead John Lennon?
Why do those we let in, who we get close to, have to die? Which means another abandonment. I am so much closer to animals. Scottie called one of our exotic companion animals a human. At first, I thought I heard wrong. Just think deeply. They are human. Animals are. I’m sure the Christian Right would balk at being put on the same level of animals. Their feeling of being in the highest order is a birthright. A convincing argument for their feeling of superiority. Everyone else should starve to death.
Not my belief. Animals are righteous. The higher level belongs to them. They don’t work for a living, they just live. No reporting to a 9 to 5. No boss. Yes, there is a hierarchy with animals but so different than how people have fucked over who we are and how we live. It’s a hierarchy of a few who own the controlling interest of the world. Then there are the slaves, bearly making it from day to day.
It feels strange to lose someone. Molly has been in my life for over half the time I’ve been alive. I’ve known her since I witnessed her birth. In the heat of a late summer’s night. Now she is gone. I don’t do loss very well. And right now, I want to feel great having Alison back.
She got right into the business. Scottie took her to our studio today. Editing on “Touched by the Spirit” needs attention. Alison is “jumping right into the deep end.” Who came up with that line? It tends to get you drowned. I, literally, did it once, and pretty nearly didn’t survive. It is a haunting. Someone wants me to die inhaling water rather than air. No last breath of that to go out on. Hope it is not an Omen. Don’t want to die that way.
Do I have a particular way I would like to go out taking my last bow? First, I would like to be healthy the rest of my life. Second, I want to create till the very end, my mind would be quick, witty and sharp. Third, I want to drift off inside the best dream ever and drift away forever inside my dream. Everyone I love would be there or join me there. An after-life filled with all the ultimate pleasures surrounded by love and bliss.
Death is all around me. My senses are always connecting close to the edge of time and infinity. We may close off the reception but it is there waiting to break through into my consciousness.
It feels good to have our family together. Alison fits perfectly. No jealousy. Pure love, respect and caring all around us. I think it makes a difference Alison having her own home on the estate. The Chateau de Rocher is always her home but she needs her own home, where she can build her life. We made a pack to always eat dinners together when the film allows it or if any one of us has an important private engagement. We, Scottie and I, want Alison to have a personal life.
Curious, we never discussed with Alison what her inclination with intimacy and where her crushing love swings. She has never shown a personal interest in either sex or transgender individuals. She doesn’t seem interested in or notices others who might be attracted to her. Never gave time to romantic closeness. Should we be concerned?
Not everyone is interested in sexual intimacy or relationships with a romantic undercurrent. She rejects any possibilities of engaging with anyone. No reason to be concerned. Alison never talked or wrote about anyone special. She had friends but nothing ever went beyond the closeness of a friendship.
Are we good parents to not get into a discussion with Alison? She may not know how to talk to anyone about closeness of an intimate nature. I feel for her. Not my strongest ability growing up with my morally corrupt family. I didn’t know I needed someone to talk to me. Not something I did growing up, talking. Strictly quiet unless I lost it and began crying.
When that happened, all scattered, abandoning me with the Shadow Mother. A Bogeyman of the scariest kind. They hide in the shadows under your bed or in the closet while the light is switched off, only came out at night. Daytime, they would transform from shadows, entering into people who accepted their terms. Anything goes, and not of the musical kind.
My mother was one of those, who made the deal. She became possessed by evil. Her punishment was calculating and torturous. A former member of the Spanish Inquisition. One of the Torturers. She especially liked hot burning items, silk scarves to bide hands and silencing any noise coming from my mouth, and devices for striking the flesh. Often whips of various lengths and bites. Right out of the cupboards of the Marquis de Sade. Sadistic and Masochistic. With the Shadow Mother there were no safe words. I am not so sure if the Marquis de Sade had them either.
The Shadow Mother has been dismissed. Will that stop her hauntings? Sometimes it’s important to out your daemons, in order to steal their power away. What happens then? I certainly don’t want it. No desire to be evil. I just want to feel. Let it be joy but tears are a form of bliss. Laughter through tears, the deepest feelings are evoked. Let sadness in. It isn’t meant to be rejected. Depression will secure a space if the truth of emotions are not allowed freedom of expression.
Some law should be carved into the Constitution: Freedom of Emotions, but unlike guns, no one is allowed to do harm.
It has been an elevator ride this week with moods. Manic, excited, happy our girl is home. Exhausted with sadness, our Molly is gone. It was too sudden. Death should be required to give fair notice. Not with misery but with time to prepare. And no, one should not prepare for death the moment we are born. “No one expects the Spanish Inquisition.” I suppose death feels the same.
Let’s switch to optimism and an endless supply of time.
It’s time for “Brief Sacrifice” and my favorite closing line.
“Time can be folded and joined with all elements in all places as the one ultimate moment when time is all at once. In this place everything happens on a continual loop following into a continuum of time forever into infinity. In the “Silver Box,” there is contained the ability to draw time into itself and create the perfect infinite moment.”
For you, I will end this letter in “the moment between seconds.”
© madison taylor 2008
Somewhere In Time – John Barry
By Madison Taylor
24th June 2008
That which lives within
We are free
The spirit alive
In our nature
Fighting the darkness
Into the world
Ideas words thoughts images
Floating inside imagination
Kept protected and hidden
Now is free
Creating a heightened state
Of pure ecstasy
© madison taylor 2008
The beginning always starts out
With a dream.
It is all a dream
In our own nightmares”
— Madison Taylor
“Pretending is not just play.
Pretending is imagined possibilities.”
— Meryl Streep