Private Moments #58: “Be Careful In Love”

private moments in paintings & poetry
Private Moments #58: “Be Careful In Love”
Poem by Jennifer Kiley
Painting by Jk McCormack
Post Created 1st April 2014
Posted On Monday 21st April 2014
PRIVATE MOMENTS INSIDE PAINTINGS & POETRY

Private Writings: Chapter #58 — All Together When?

invisible space within empty space (c) Jkm 2014Invisible space within empty space (c) Jkm 2008

“For that fine madness still he did retain,
Which rightly should possess a poet’s brain.”
~Michael Drayton~
(1563-1631)

hands reaching out into rain

“Be Careful In Love”
By Madison Taylor
14th October 2008

Time measures moments
Once they are past the present
Touches inside deep

Remember backwards
Memories will go both ways
Sides will be taken

Love travels with you
Anywhere you want to go
Ride the Universe

You have Sophie’s Choice
Heaven or Hell Life or Death
Life’s Grande Illusion

Be careful in Love
Touch her soul gently at night
In dreams hold softly

Do not seek out Death
Soon enough the waiting ends
Whisper to the ghosts

Soundless to their ears
Though they be invisible
Ghosts are real they’re here

© Madison Taylor 2008

candle flame flickering gif

Maze

garden waterfall private gazebo overgrown 4pmip&p “Doorway to a Place of Enchantment”

* * * * * * *

“Creating is having the courage
to allow the seer into the private
moments of our imaginative lives.”
— JkM the secret keeper
aka Jennifer Kiley McCormack

* * * * * * *

Private Writings: Chapter #54 – I Feel Fine

private writings to a psychoanalyst (c) Jk 2013
Private Writings: Chapter #54 – I Feel Fine
Written by Jennifer Kiley
Painting by NAME OF ARTIST
Introduction & Chapter #1
Published on March 19th 2013
Published Early Tuesday AM
Posted On Tuesday 25th March 2014

WARNING: ADULT LANGUAGE AND CONTENT.
Not Suitable For Children.
All Characters Are Fictitious.
Anyone Resembling Anyone Living or Dead
Is Purely Coincidental.

Crypticistic Synopsis:

private writings to dr. annie haskell
psychoanalyst

I am the storyteller
using imagination fantasy feelings & thoughts
to discover self soul eternal serenity
but to most importantly
tell the best tale ever after upon a time

see you down the rabbit hole.
namaste! madison taylor

Private Writings: Chapter #54 — I Feel Fine

Tuesday 16th September 2008

Dear Annie,

They won’t let me see you while I’m in this place. The doors may not be locked but no one is going to allow me to leave. I never wanted to be inside a place where they watch every minute detail of what I do. Why didn’t she let me die? Why did Jamie call for help. She should have let me die. How did she know I was in trouble? I remember sending you a letter for her. Oh, right, I sent her the poem I wrote about love. I sent a preface to the poem I wrote for her. What an idiot. I was talking about suicide. Never said I was going to do it. Even if I did take all my stash of Klonopin mixed with some brandy. I was just starting to fall asleep for good. Heading into a peaceful sleep. No more thoughts. No more feelings. No more pain. No more people pretending to love me and then fucking me. Abandoning me. I am sick of it. Let them all go fuck themselves.

I want you to see the note and poem I sent to Jamie. Would it make you get so alarmed you call in the cops and medics. Between Jamie pulling me to my feet and walking me around before the emergency crew arrived. Jamie even walked me into a ice cold shower. That freaked my body out. I think I went into a seizure or something that felt like I was way out of control. I was awake bearly, but I wasn’t coherent. Nothing was making any sense at that moment. My eyes couldn’t focus at all.

Enter the women in their scrubs with their equipment. They were plugging me in to so many tubes. We were off to the hospital in no time. Pumping stomachs. Needles into tubes going into my body. They have a shrink talk to me. I was too out of it to make sense out of what she said. She did say she was going to admit me into the psyche ward for observation. That freaked me out. I demanded they contact my partner Scottie Andrews. She had power of attorney. I wasn’t going to be going upstairs.

Scottie arrived. Jamie had tracked her down and explained what had happened. She was upset with me but more concerned than angry. Scottie talked. I tried to listen. What I remember of our conversation is, our lawyer Michael was working on finding me a place at the Redcliff Psychiatric Institute. Being here is like being at a Country Club. Here I am, in this fall back to “David and Lisa” and “Lilith.” A place of splendor with Dr. Virginia MacKinnon, a great psychiatrist, for me to talk to.  She isn’t you. I’d rather be talking to you. But I am giving her a chance. I just am so confused by all that is happening. Why did I take all those pills? Why can’t I get away from people who want to hurt me? Why does it seem that I trust all the wrong kind of people who want to abuse me?

I want you to see what I wrote to Jamie that night. It might give you a sense of where I am at this moment. Maybe it’s telling, maybe not. I know I am going to write you as often as they allow me to. I wish I could call you or text you but they won’t let me have my cell phone or any of my techno gadgets. No laptops. No Tablets. No Cell Phones. No communication with the outside. With one exception, I am allowed to write to you. And I know you can’t write to me. They don’t want any outside influences.

Here is the note and poem I wrote to Jamie. I love her. I love Scottie. I love Alison. Please help them understand what I’ve done. I haven’t stopped feeling like killing myself. I still want to die. The depression has cut me off from feeling alive. I try to write poems. They won’t let me have my medical marijuana. That is killing me. It was the only thing that kept me balanced when I was balanced. My bipolar is out of control.

Lets forget about that. They won’t change their minds. MJ not allowed in here. No exceptions. This is going to make me feel more like I am falling apart than ever. I am sorry I let you down Annie. Trying to kill myself. It was stupid. The pain had a hold on me. It was crushing me. I had to let go. My estate was all settled and in good order. Everyone I wanted to be sure was taken care of was well planned out in my Will. Michael is a great lawyer.

I am putting it off. Here is what I wrote to Jamie. Keep in mind I was thinking of you in the note but I wanted Jamie to be the one to receive the note. To help her understand why I was doing what I did:

“I am insecure & uncertain about what is ok in terms of times & frequency of what is acceptable. I feel I could make a mistake & not even know it. It is causing the development of a darkness of confusion.”

“I love Jamie.  I spent the day almost intentionally focusing my attention on anything but thinking & feeling Jamie’s presence. I am afraid of the level of intensity between Jamie & I. With almost certainty, I feel Jamie & I are experiencing equal levels of intense emotions toward the other.”

“I want to hold her. I want to know what it feels like to wrap my arms around her. And to feel her body melting into mine. She would feel soft to hold. I want to lie down beside Jamie. To pull our bodies as close together as possible. And we would fall asleep with our lips near the others. Close enough to feel her warm breath caressing my face with the delicacy of her breathing.”

“I love her. I want to feel her spirit enter inside of me with warm loving energy. If I told her these feelings, I am not certain what her reaction would be. What I would like is for Jamie to tell me she feels the exact same way about me as I feel about her. We love each other deeply, as it is possible to love someone else who moves us into the highest spiritual level possible. I Love Her Now & Always & Forever. She is my soul spirit connection. I just want to dream about her.”

A poem of Haiku for J.S.

Love you bring to me
Before the sun can shine I
Dream of you with me

Before me you stand
My eyes look deep inside you
Two souls joined as one

You live in my mind
Your love sleeps inside my heart
Our lips want to speak

Love me forever
I am your soul protector
Loving you always

(c) mandy two-zero-zero-eight

I need Jamie. Her presence in my life fills up my fantasy world with warm and pleasurable sensations. When I think of her I can make up any feeling I want to experience. She is real inside for me. It may not be a sane reality but how close is sanity to madness and fantasies to reality. If you want them to happen you find a way to manifest your dreams. Does it hurt to think of someone in a dream? Make them be for you what you need. Does that make me insane for wanting a dream that once was to now be real again.

It pains me to want to love and not be able to get my body to be able to express those feelings in a real situation. When you are so careful, a nightmare enters your world and destroys it by crushing my dreams by overwhelming with the reality of my childhood by doing now what was a constant then. When she raped me, she stole away the last of my innocence. I guarded it and thought I was safe with all the protection I had surrounding me. But she still broke through and took everything that was left.

I just want to feel love. The kind of love I felt with my grandmother. I am tired. I will write more about the only person who ever loved me without wanting something in return. The energy of love I felt with my grandmother was magical and mystical. It filled me up and protected me from the abusers destroying me. She placed a shield that surrounded me. It kept their handling of my flesh from penetrating into my soul and darkening my spirit from the light. The light stayed alive inside me because grandmother has always protected me. I believe she is one of my guardian angels and I think and feel Tosh is another of those who protect me.

That’s all I can write for now. Until next week.

“Time for time and traveling with circuses must end. It is time to soar through the time barrier into all moments in the Universe.”

So, until I see you, I end with my favorite quote from the film “Brief Sacrifice.”

“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.”

I end this letter in “the moment between seconds.”

Love Fondly,

Madison

@-;—

© madison taylor 2008

The embrace  klimt  sm

The Embrace – Artist Klimpt

Somewhere In Time – Composer John Barry

scary purple flower

“A Dream
The beginning always starts out
With a dream.
It is all a dream
In our own nightmares”
— Madison Taylor

Le Chateau de Rocher

Le Chateau de Rocher is Madison & Scottie’s Home

play is not just play meryl streep“Pretending is not just play. Pretending is imagined possibility” — Meryl Streep

Medicalmarijuana red cross marijuana leaf black bgMedical Marijuana

Private Writings: Chapter #45/#46 Trauma With Drama/Double the Trouble

private writings to a psychoanalyst (c) Jk 2013

Private Writings: Chapter #45/#46 – Trauma With Drama/Double the Trouble

Written by Jennifer Kiley
Painting by Jk McCormack
Introduction & Chapter #1
Published on March 19th 2013
Published Early Tuesday AM
Posted On Tuesday 28th January 2014

WARNING: ADULT LANGUAGE AND CONTENT.

NOT SUITABLE FOR CHILDREN.
ALL CHARACTERS ARE FICTITIOUS.

ANYONE RESEMBLING ANYONE LIVING OR DEAD
IS PURELY COINCIDENTAL.

Crypticistic Synopsis:

private writings to dr. annie haskell,
psychoanalyst extraordinaire,
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

Private Writings: Chapter #45 — Trauma With Drama

Tuesday 22nd July 2008

Dear Annie,

I never finished going over my letter from last week. So much more to tell you. It’s a conflict. Talking about the new Trauma Group is important. Knowing a few of the women was a surprise. But it’s more important to talk to you about when I thought I had DID. The Trauma Group, I’ll save for other letters.

Awhile ago, I was told I had Dissociative Identity Disorder.  The therapist who told me, encouraged me to give the alters names and develop each one’s identity, their responsibilities and characteristics. I want you to know who lived with me for many years. The first one, I feel is the most outrageous. Her name is Laura. She was the one who was conscious when the abuse happened. It happened to her. They are her memories. Ever since, what she experienced during the sexual abuse, it ingrained inside of her a learning code. It causes her to sexualize every person we get close to. Not easy to admit.

What I am about to admit to you, may sound crazy coming from me, but she is aroused by you, Annie. And that isn’t all. Laura feels obsessed with you. It isn’t her fault though.

I need to clarify further.  My saying Laura is attracted and obsessed with you, doesn’t mean anyone else is. In fact, we aren’t, obsessed with you, that is. It is Laura’s thing. Not ours. We like you and feel close to you but it goes no further.

I’ve said too much. I can feel Laura feeling upset. She’s always gotten us into way too many situations.

Keep in mind, this story, I’ve been telling it to myself all these years that I feel I am or was once DID. And believing it. So did Scottie, and our closed friends thought I was just more eccentric than I already was.

Now, Meggie, she is so different. She just wants you to be her mother. Just needs love and hugs. She gets those from you in a very unobtrusive way.

Lets flip to the male side of our inner family.  There’s Brad. Warning. Watch out for him. Gets extremely intense, rageful, and add anger. Why, you may ask? No trust in grown ups at all. He feels you all betray us. No offense.

Ginny is sad. What I mean is, she is removed from feelings. All she experiences is depression and deep thoughts of suicide. What sets her off the most right now is the thought of you not loving her. She is younger than all of us but she feels older.

We believed our alters were real. When we believed completely in their existence, they felt real. Not so sure anymore. They felt like they existed. We felt their presence. They always felt to me to be very young. Don’t know anymore what to believe. Except the bipolar. I know I get manic, depressed and suicidal. All the DSM IV and 5 symptoms they have well written out.

We only use the word “we” now because it’s familiar. And we, also, feel like we are shattered.

We don’t entirely feel safe with you, Annie. That’s why we don’t want to let our guard down. Testing comes first.  But most of the time, we have a strong urge and need for you to know our story. For some reason it is necessary. We want someone we trust to know the complete truth. What really happened. Not just what I remember in my head.

I think we do love you. But those feelings make us feel confused about you, Annie, and about ourself.

Ask Brad if it is okay if we love you. We would like it if you would love us, too. Maybe it will help our shattered parts come together. If we were really loved by you.

Being a lesbian, we know telling you this may frighten you away. When a woman who is a lesbian loves another woman, someone who is married to a man, it can feel suspicious. But truthfully, our feeling of love is not sexual, not really. We just want to feel love. I want to believe that it isn’t bad or wrong to love and be loved by you.

Brad protects us, even against you, Annie. Women can hurt us just as much as a man.

I forgot to tell you, Meggie is too young for sex, but she knows about it.

Also, I forgot someone very important. Her name is Nessa, Ginny’s twin. Nessa lives with the heaviest depression but Ginny carries the dangerous one. She holds the suicidal feelings in her heart and it keeps breaking her.

And then there is Sandy. Our flamboyant gay male. He feels it’s a redundancy. Sandy likes the recognition and parties. Especially, likes getting high and dancing. He has no idea how he feels about you. He’s very likeable. Use to get everyone high when he would go bar hopping in NYC.

It’s a consensus. We decided you are kind, intelligent, beautiful and you have the softest, gentlest and most soothing voice we have ever heard.

We just want to get close to you. We’d like you to get close to us, too. For us, it will take a great deal of bravery. Getting close to anyone is scary as hell. So with you, it matters so much, so it makes it even scarier. We have more to lose.

You are inside our mind now. But we are still haunted with so many questions. I know you will ask what kind of questions. Simple. Is what we feel okay? Is it okay to love you? Our feelings are filled with pain. Fear is building up. Too much pressure. Love is dangerous or painful. When I love someone and trust them, two things have happened. They betray me by abusing me or they die. Either way I am hurt and abandoned.

Talking about what I feel is important. I want you to understand me. I don’t want to hold back.

What does love really feel like? How do I recognize it? Do you feel anything like love for me? I would really like the answer to that question.

No bullshit. No saying it’s transference. That is lame. Therapists cop out using that shit. What I feel is real. Don’t understand what it means. I need you to tell me it’s okay, the way I feel for you.

Honestly, I think I am in love with you. I am in love with another woman. And it hasn’t a thing to do with sex.  Being “in love” to me is feeling intense feelings of love. It’s not sexual. Will I ever understand? Does anyone know what love means? Do you, Annie?

It causes so much bloody confusion.

*       *       *       *       *       *       *

I’m slipping in Scottie’s letter next. Following is a second letter from me.

Dear Annie,

I see you have drawn me into Madison’s therapy. If I understand, you just want some feedback on her behavior.

Certain points I feel are important. One, she forgets she needs to sleep. It doesn’t feel important to her. She escapes to her study, always writing, but rarely leaves. If not their, she’s in her studio painting.

When I get home after being away for a shoot, she follows me around as if to watch me. To see if I will magically disappear again. Sometimes she speaks to me like we have never spoken before. She has been in a fairly constant manic state recently. She is producing, which is good. Great scrips to turn into a film. Something for me to direct. Paintings to hang in our Art Gallery. But all this energy she’s using, I feel she is heading for a major crash.

I am afraid when her depression hits, it will be bleak. The darkness surrounds her, literally. I can feel it and see it. She won’t wake until after it’s dark out. She goes to sleep as soon as dawn hits the edge of the horizon. Her vampire comes out into the darkness. That’s what she’s doing.

Her mind is filled with one wish. She wants to die. It’s in her poetry and her scripts. They may be great and would make David Lynch want to do a meditation with her. She doesn’t speak, so that would be perfect. She actually throws herself into her work more when she’s in the darkness. A melancholia absorbed inside creativity.

Something is needed to shock her, to turn her around. Her body is suffering. Her Cancer treatment only stopped recently. Remember it almost killed her. Death was paying her regular visits then. It’s enough to traumatize anyone.

Let me not forget her abominable family. They want to kill her. It’s a matter of inheritance. So, they don’t leave her alone. Always finding ways to contact her. All of them scare the hell out of her except one brother and his daughter. She loves those two intensely. But the others, no way. We have people to keep them from her. It’s too complicated to get into now. But she has them crawling around in the spider webs in her mind. They creep through her brain and barge into her nightmares.

Is this enough, I hope? If she needs anyone right now, Annie, it’s you. Take the time to care for her. Gentleness and consistency, that’s what she needs. I do care deeply and I attempt to show it. But she is so damned difficult. Trying to push me away. She thinks that will work. But I won’t let her. We’re stuck in this life together, no matter what.

I have a strong suggestion. She needs to be placed on Medical Marijuana. With the Cancer Treatment she was given THC. What a change. Even though she was too weak to show signs of difference, I could tell her mood changed. She relaxed. Drank some liquids. I worry she is going to get really sick, if something doesn’t change.

Find a way for her to create but stay healthy. She’s divorced herself from her body. It is all out rejection. What happened to her body is too hard for her. And I am not talking about the Cancer.

Just help her. Please.

Yours,
Scottie Andrews

*       *       *       *       *       *       *

Private Writings: Chapter #46 — Double the Trouble

Tuesday 24th July 2008

Dear Annie,

Having time with you three times a week is fantastic. Seeing you Tuesday after the first Trauma Group on Monday, is a bit heady to process. Intense and overwhelming. Those words come to me. A mental rush. Being close to you. Having more time with you. It seems we finally have time to work. More time. I’m always wishing for more time. The effects you have on me will be more powerful. All is so good. Something in your power infuses me. I feel filled with super energy.

This letter is going to be short.

First Trauma Group. Meeting a new person I like. Her name, gone from my memory. I felt she was really drawn to you. I like her but she is too possessive of you. After group, I wanted to talk to you but she was there first and wasn’t going to share. I felt jealous. It set off a chain reaction, of the negative feelings, the confusion, and the irrational thoughts. Primary one being, feeling rejected. It isn’t rational but I felt rejected by you. You didn’t care any longer. It sent me off on an emotional roller coaster after I left. The feelings lasted until I saw you on Tuesday.

It’s okay now. She, actually, feels like someone I want to be friends with. But I don’t want her monopolizing you. What the fuck was her name. Blocked it. You will have to tell me on Monday in Trauma Group. Until then, thank you for listening.

One last thought. I wanted you to know what a great group I feel you put together. Thought I’d never be in a group again. Wrong. My Tarot reading was right. It is what I need to do now. Feelings were high, some scary, some strong, and some intensely powerful. What will be exposed in the Group is going to knock us all over, isn’t it?

Now I have to find a way to be brave enough to face my shadows and to go into the darkness. If you will figuratively hold my hand, it might help.

That’s all for now.

“Time for time and traveling with circuses must end. It is time to soar through the time barrier into all moments in the Universe.”

So, until I see you, I end with my favorite quote from the film Brief Sacrifice.

“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.”

I end this letter in “the moment between seconds.”

Love Fondly,

Madison

@-;—

© madison taylor 2008

150th Birthday of Gustav  Klimt - The Virgin (Maiden)

150th Birthday of Gustav Klimt – The Virgin (Maiden)

Somewhere In Time – Composer John Barry

Pierre Auguste Renoir - Roses and Jasmine  in a Delft Vase

Pierre Auguste Renoir – Roses and Jasmine in a Delft Vase

rain in garden gif

The Virgin
By Madison Taylor
23rd July 2008

Untouched entry blocked
Protected by innocence
Perversion invades

Nightmares being hell
Flames explode calling back pain
Feelings awakened

Youth is time for growth
Lightning follows path of thief
Regains what was lost

Time erases past
Memories rewritten now
Never recall the lies

Truth happens in light
Darkness takes hero returns
Bless the blind their eyes can see

© Madison Taylor 2008

innocence return - artist jk mccormack (c) JkM 2014

Innocence Return – Artist Jk McCormack (c) JkM 2007

“A Dream
The beginning always starts out
With a dream.
It is all a dream
In our own nightmares”
— Madison Taylor

Le Chateau de Rocher

Le Chateau de Rocher

play is not just play meryl streep“Pretending is not just play. Pretending is imagined possibility” — Meryl Streep

Medicalmarijuana red cross marijuana leaf black bgMedical Marijuana

Private Writings: Chapter #44 — Secrets and Signs

private writings to a psychoanalyst (c) Jk 2013

Private Writings: Chapter #44 — Secrets and Signs

Written by Jennifer Kiley
Illustrated by j. kiley
Introduction & Chapter #1
Published on March 19th 2013
Published Early Tuesday AM
Posted 21st January 2014

WARNING: ADULT LANGUAGE AND CONTENT.

NOT SUITABLE FOR CHILDREN.
ALL CHARACTERS ARE FICTITIOUS.

ANYONE RESEMBLING ANYONE LIVING OR DEAD
IS PURELY COINCIDENTAL.

Crypticistic Synopsis:

private writings to dr. annie haskell,
psychoanalyst extraordinaire,
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

Private Writings: Chapter #44 — Secrets and Signs

Tuesday 15th July 2008

Dear Annie,

I want to talk about my feelings for you. It never seems convenient for me to be open with you. What I feel, is something I don’t understand. No one ever taught me what love is. Love has been mixed up inside my head. It makes me feel I am bad for feeling love.

The truth. I was abused growing up. My family’s incest was sexual, sadistic and emotional abuse. Their white painted mansion was the playground for their sinder girl. Don’t know respect. She needs to learn she is nothing. A place I was the center of the abuse. That’s what I called home. I didn’t think of it that way. Not a place of love and nurturing for me. Every horrible experience I felt as a child happened in that place of horror. It wasn’t safe anywhere inside that house. Taking walks in the woods was dangerous. Our grounds were extensive. Someone seemed always to be watching me. Eventually they always found me. And I would be alone and vulnerable.

My father used me to get his friends to do him favors. I was their reward. They just took me away. One man, I remember someone calling him something official. Held a government position, and he was a child molester and rapist. That was dangerous. One of the times I was alone with him. He had started touching me. His hand felt like needles were piercing my skin. I wanted him to stop. My hand pushed his away. We even spoke out loud. “Please don’t touch me or I will tell.” A thought I had tried before without the threat of telling. Telling made it more dangerous. This brought on convincing threats of, “I’ll kill your family if you say a word.” His words were not a lie. He showed me by trying to kill me in that very moment. He stopped himself before he went to far but his eyes told me, he would kill them, and probably me too. No, he would definitely have me killed.

What could I do. Keep silent. No one ever talked about it. It felt like I was alone. No one else. It wasn’t happening to anyone else. They would feel I was worthless and contaminated. No one would care about me. No one does now. I will just leave everyone out of this. I am too embarrassed to say a word. Too ashamed.

I am living surrounded by abusers or the abused? Yes, I had another sibling who did not escape. He is locked up and catatonic now. The only time he is not catatonic is when all he can do is scream my name out that he wants to kill me. I am his betrayer. No idea why he thinks I betrayed him. All my life I have tried to protect him. It was all a secret. One day he blurted out, our oldest brother fucked him when he was little. I was fragile when he told me this. It made me freak out.

I turned to a female friend I had a crush on. She tried to help. But she had depressing news, to me it was. Why in that moment? Her boyfriend proposed to her. They were going to get married right away. It meant her moving away. I was struck by the deepest depression. She did move away after the wedding. Gone. I lost her. She was my first friend. She was the first person I told about the abuse. Not the whole nightmare. Just I had been abused. No one can handle the while thing. I can’t even handle it. Overload.

My friend was gone. I had no more focus. She kept me alive by being my friend. I loved her. She was the only person I could love. I thought she loved me enough to want to stay in my life. But she didn’t. My depression made me believe everything was over. I was despondent. I lost all reason to live. There was no one left to love. It was when I thought about my bottle of pills.

I sat on the edge of my bed. Taking the open bottle of pills, I poured out the content, a handful at a time. The darkness was pulling me deeper inside of it. The music was playing softly. Soon I would be asleep forever. Would my friend miss me if I were dead. The letter I wrote to her was about love. In the letter I wrote to my mother, I told her she finally got what she wanted. Me. Dead.

My head felt heavy as I lay down at the foot of my bed. All the pills were gone. Sleep felt like it was pulling me in. My mind was filled with the friend I loved. We were only teenagers. Who ends their life so early? Life was destroying me. Being alive without her was unthinkable, to painful, impossible. It was almost over. I was nearing the end of pain.

As you can see I am writing to you now. It was difficult but somehow I stopped the process from concluding. No one helped me back from that edge. I saved myself alone. No one ever knew. Just one more secret. My suicide attempt gave me the courage to seek out professional help. It was right after that night. I live with the thoughts of suicide too frequently. It runs through my mind and my life like a shadow of temptation. More the thinking about it then the doing now.

Lets change this up and take it to a totally different place. Back to my feelings about love. I know you know what love is. You make me feel it whenever I am around you. The words you say to me. I feel your love. No one has ever been as kind to me as you. What is important is I don’t know what I would do without you if you ever disappeared. It would crush me inside. I would want to die.

I see the words I use and wonder whether I can trust you not to be afraid of my feelings of love. If I told you I love you, would it make you want to run away? I fear the worse.

If you really knew what goes on inside of me, it’s the sound of confusion. Being bipolar for a long time has messed with my life. Awhile ago, I had a therapist and psychiatrist diagnose me with DID. It was a fucked up diagnosis I lived with for years. She even wanted me to name my alters and describe their characteristics. It was a curious perspective from which to think about myself. I really did split apart with the diagnosis. Was it thinking I had DID that caused the transformation? Or did I always have alters and worked through the phases and went through integration. I am not at all sure.

Sybill, the film with Sally Fields and Joanne Woodward, made me want her doctor. Being held and believed. To feel her arms around me and her eyes comforting me. This leads me to the truth. Truth is important to me. I don’t lie. There’s no sense to it. Simply put, I want you, Annie. To be like her doctor. If I could return to being a little girl again, with you. You could be the person who cared for me. It would feel more perfect then I could expect. It would make the world right for me. Is it possible for you to love me?

I better stop now. There is much more but I will save it for the next letter. Right now I am worried what I have already asked you in this letter. Is it going to make you feel angry or uncomfortable, or is it going to make you go away? Will you go away? Please don’t. I’m feeling a strong urge not to show you this letter. Maybe if I express myself in a poem and paint what I feel instead. It is more abstract. It may make more sense. Being understood is an obsession.

“Time for time and traveling with circuses must end. It is time to soar through the time barrier into all moments in the Universe.”

So, until I see you, I end with my favorite quote from the film Brief Sacrifice.

“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.”

I end this letter in “the moment between seconds.”

Loving You Fondly,

Madison

@-;—

© madison taylor 2008

Bejin - Artist David Agenjo

Bejin – Artist David Agenjo

Somewhere In Time – John Barry

Bouquet of Roses and other Flowers - Artist Henri Fantin Latour

Bouquet of Roses and other Flowers – Artist Henri Fantin Latour

rain in garden gif

Shattered Love
By Madison Taylor
8th July 2008
Narrative Haiku

Shattered love breaks hearts
Are bleeding out on the ground
Why do I not cry?

Feelings have been crushed
Inside pain reflects harming
Take your hands off me

Skin feels bruises swell
Carving time on flesh burning
Memories remain

Giving birth no love
Start with hate never caring
Nurture not given

Meet an attraction
Is it love or sexual
Healing the inside

Touching with lightness
Need a gentle hand soothing
Trust is taming wild

One stroke of the hand
Is enough to begin love
Learning soft teaching

© madison taylor 2008

Illuminating Shadows - Artist Jk McCormack (c) JkM 2008

Illuminating Shadows – Artist Jk McCormack (c) JkM 2007

“A Dream
The beginning always starts out
With a dream.
It is all a dream
In our own nightmares”
— Madison Taylor

Le Chateau de Rocher

Le Chateau de Rocher

play is not just play meryl streep“Pretending is not just play. Pretending is imagined possibility” — Meryl Streep

Medicalmarijuana red cross marijuana leaf black bgMedical Marijuana

Private Writings: Chapter #39 — Demons in Disguise Are Lying

private writings to a psychoanalyst (c) Jk 2013

Private Writings: Chapter #39 — Demons in Disguise Are Lying

Written by Jennifer Kiley
Illustrated by j. kiley
Introduction & Chapter #1
Published on March 19th 2013
Published Early Tuesday AM
Posted On Tuesday 17th December 2013

WARNING: ADULT LANGUAGE AND CONTENT.

NOT SUITABLE FOR CHILDREN.
ALL CHARACTERS ARE FICTITIOUS.

ANYONE RESEMBLING ANYONE LIVING OR DEAD
IS PURELY COINCIDENTAL.

Crypticistic Synopsis:

private writings to dr. annie haskell, psychoanalyst extraordinaire,
my choice in form of storytelling is using letters with dreams, thoughts, poems, images,
music, art, describing my scripts, recent one ‘brief sacrifice,’ film due to be released,
psychotherapy, psychoanalysis, inspirations, reflective comments, the inner & outer workings
of the mind, soul, body, emotions, and bipolar—prefer mentally creative, or interesting,
or a brain misfiring; in the mix are abuse, crashes, near drownings, illegal drugs presently,
hallucinations, hypersexuality, time warps, finding answers to unsolved mysteries, infatuations,
imagination, fantasy, the never ending need to discover my self, my soul, my eternal serenity, my bliss

see you down the rabbit hole.
namaste! madison taylor

Sympathy for the Devil – The Rolling Stones

Private Writings: Chapter #39 — Demons in Disguise Are Lying

Tuesday 10th June 2008

Dear Annie,

I have a confession to make, that scares me. Not being certain how you will react, makes the words difficult to say out loud. You are always stressing how some feelings may be inappropriate. How am I to understand what is inappropriate, without you knowing how I feel?

With me, I need to trust someone before I can talk about closeness. Particularly, as it pertains to love. And truthfully, I am not sure I would recognize trust, closeness & love if it were smashing me in the heart.

While we were in Paris, Scottie told me I get infatuated way too easily. My brain ceases to function when I find myself attracted to anyone. Any ability to see the truth gets murky. I end up being lured into following the darkness. Where I end up in web-like tangles inside my mind. Spiders surround my senses and I end up eventually staring at the head of a serpent with a narrow darting tongue, forked at the tip, smelling my skin by touching it.

I am trapped before I realize, I have been seduced by an innocent facade of a demon in disguise. Within this creature, who coaxed me into her power, I find where the soul should be, there lies a blackened shape, hardened with sharp, jagged edges.

Of course, I never perceive the deception or the evil hiding inside the lovely, exterior costume. What appears in my eyes are the soft, sensual lines of her features. Her eyes hidden beneath dark glasses. That is so sexy. A voice smoothly speaking words with a gentle accent, French or British, with the tenderness of tones. Her words are intelligent and used in such a perfect way. Knowing the language of seduction of an innocent young woman, clueless to deception. This is how I am drawn in. And through her continuous manipulation, I am hers. She owns me.

My soul does not join with darkness. The two repel like a friend to an enemy. Being tricked by a facade is not unusual when infatuation strikes. My recent closeness with Scottie has awakened an urgent need and desire for more closeness. Yet, I flee from what can be mine and now seek the dangerous and lethal.

You, Annie, are my dangerous temptation. Safe territory surrounds your life. A child & husband, a happy marriage, maybe not happy, that is the value I choose to place on your closest relationship.

Infatuation, for me, causes a rush of exhilaration. It is the state of circling the insatiable feelings of being in love, the falling in love aspects of being filled with blood rushing in the body when experiencing an orgasm. My brain craves the overflowing of sensations. The forbidden touches awakening the juices of titillation. Temptation is on high alert.

When I was a child, the sexual abusers each had their own technique. Slipping into my bedroom at night, while I slept, was the most covert. While you sleep, if you are a child and being touched, you may awaken due to feelings of your body betraying you. Shame and what the physical sensations are doing, force you to be the silent witness. Until one night, you may find the courage to say four simple words out loud. “Please, don’t do that.”

Does the abuser stop? Does he or she go away? Do they ever return after your bravery?

Now, I am just one more easy victim to incorporate into the cult of the unattainable illusion. Kind words so sadly sought, when whispered in a poetic message, lure the innocent sacrifice. Is it a sickness I have learned from my abusers? My need to have a forbidden love or wanting of kindness, I will sacrifice my freedom and be their slave, for one morsel metered out at a time.

To take advantage of a weakness in someone, when the knowledge of their abuse is known to you, is a pretty low place to exist. And I find myself drawn to this loathsomeness of life, oh, so easily. The sad part is, I never recognize their inner faces, behind the masques. I remain the masochist and victim. It is not erasable.

I bring a proposal to you, Annie. These feelings exist. I love you. Trust is important. I need to find a way to experience these feelings of infatuation in a safe environment. It is important for me to work on what I feel. My feelings involve you. They may or may not be real. It could just be an ongoing repetition of certain experiences continuously repeating until I find the resolution.

If you will be open to working with my feelings for you in therapy, knowing they may just be a fantasy born out of my repeatedly being abused by so many different abusers, and in so many different ways. Maybe some day I will understand what happened and why or not why, but, some how, some day, I will be able to let go of what happened. And the effect on me will some day slip away. The memories won’t need their time in my conscious mind.

I will be free, at last, from all those potential abusers slipping into my life unnoticed. Maybe, someday, I will finally be able to live in a world where I feel safe and be able to trust I am trusting the right people. No more tricks and manipulations. No more using me against my will. I will see clearly beyond the darkness.

The clouds will lift. My sight will be clear. And not one hand will ever touch me again, if I don’t want it to happen.

My wish is to feel what I want to feel, when I want to feel it. No more forced contact. No contact without consent.

Is that really asking for too much? Really? Really! NO. Just saying NO means exactly that. NO, I DON’T WANT YOUR BLOODY HANDS ON MY BODY OR YOUR MIND INSIDE MY HEAD.

So, Annie, is it a deal? Can we work on details to making this work out in therapy? I don’t know why it never occurred to me to work on this in therapy. The only explanation I can think of, is it is too bloody scary to even bring it up as something to potentially talk about at all.

Enough for now. I’m exhausted. Time for “Brief Sacrifice.”

Here is my closing line from “Brief Sacrifice.”

“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.”

Love Fondly,

Madison

@-;—

© madison taylor 2008

Hopelessly Devoted to You

Joseph Stella - Flowers Italy

Joseph Stella – Flowers Italy

Somewhere In Time – John Barry

Schitzer - Red Poppies Growing in a Grassy Field

Schitzer – Red Poppies Growing in a Grassy Field

rain in garden gif

Infatuation Invisibility
Narrative  Haiku
By Madison Taylor
10th June 2008

Confession scary
Inappropriate feelings
Infatuation

Visibility
Vanish blown away by wind
Five hundred miles gone

Innocence stolen
Invasive touch snatched away
Emotions blocked

One invisible
Secret keeping silently
Death be the dark guard

Light candle in wind
Awakened attention drawn
Surrender evil

Celebrate freedom
Chains broke escape privately
Paid success denied

Sexuality
Returning what was stolen
Innocence restored

© madison taylor 2008

Out of a Dream by j. mccormack (c) JM 2007

Out of a Dream by  jk mccormack (c) jKm 2007

Cannonball – Lea Michele [FULL SONG]

“A Dream
The beginning always starts out
With a dream.
It is all a dream

In our own nightmares”
— Madison Taylor

Patrick when he was five weeks. He is a Bengal kitten. Madison gave to Scottie as a present for her Birthday. As he grows he becomes devoted to her.

Patrick when he was five weeks. He is a Bengal kitten. Madison gave to Scottie as a present for her Birthday. As he grows he becomes devoted to her.

Patrick is our Bengal cat in tree. He loves Scotties. They are buddies.   1612x1212

Patrick is our Bengal cat in tree. He loves Scotties. They are buddies.

Le Chateau de Rocher

Le Chateau de Rocher

Madison and Scottie's bedroom

Madison and Scottie’s bedroom

Open White Kitchen

Open White Party Kitchen

play is not just play meryl streep

“Pretending is not just play.
Pretending is imagined possibilities.”
— Meryl Streep

Medicalmarijuana red cross marijuana leaf black bgMedical Marijuana

Private Writings: Chapter #35 — Nervously Devoted to You

private writings to a psychoanalyst (c) Jk 2013

Private Writings: Chapter #35 — Nervously Devoted to You

Written by Jennifer Kiley
Illustrated by j. kiley
Introduction & Chapter #1
Published on March 19th 2013
Published Early Tuesday AM
Posted 19th November 2013

WARNING: ADULT LANGUAGE AND CONTENT.
NOT SUITABLE FOR CHILDREN.

ALL CHARACTERS ARE FICTITIOUS.
ANYONE RESEMBLING ANYONE LIVING OR DEAD
IS PURELY COINCIDENTAL.

Crypticistic Synopsis:

private writings to dr. annie haskell, psychoanalyst extraordinaire,
my choice in form of storytelling is using letters with dreams, thoughts, poems, images,
music, art, describing my scripts, recent one ‘brief sacrifice,’ film is waiting for release,
psychotherapy, psychoanalysis, inspirations, reflective comments, the inner & outer workings
of the mind, soul, body, emotions, and bipolar—prefer mentally creative, or interesting,
or a brain misfiring; in the mix are abuse, crashes, near drownings, illegal drugs presently,
hallucinations, hypersexuality, time warps, finding answers to unsolved mysteries, infatuations,
imagination, fantasy, the never ending need to discover my self, my soul, my eternal serenity, my bliss

see you down the rabbit hole.
namaste! madison taylor

Private Writings: Chapter #35 — Nervously Devoted to You

Tuesday, 13th May 2008

Dear Annie

I walked through the front door to the Ritz Hotel in Paris, France. It was magnificent. Scottie’s assistant, Celia, thought it would be romantic for the two of us. It feels so familiar. Everything is perfect. We have the Coco Chanel Suite. It is enormous and Celia arranged for exotic food with a bottle of Dom Perignon to wash it down. I noticed, she, also, made sure there was a well-stocked supply of real Coke to calm my stomach. Celia is a total sweetheart the way she takes care of Scottie, and me, when I am with her. Marvelous. We are going to freshen up, go down for some real food at the Ritz Hotel’s restaurant L’Espadon. Celia made arrangements for a late, late night dinner before we break open the Champagne in our suite. I am planning on filling up on some of these treats after a light meal. Until later, I am going to take a break from writing. I’ll wait for something to happen before I write again. Right now, I need food, drink and rest.

It’s really early in the morning in Paris. Scottie and I, evidently, slept in the same bed. After we got back to our suite, we took the Dom Perignon and treats and headed upstairs to the largest bedroom. I must have nodded off after we drank a few glasses. I did have some brie and crackers, plus caviar. That’s all I remember. I must have slept pretty soundly. When I woke a short while ago, I was undressed, except for my light yellow shirt. Scottie was lying sound asleep next to me. We were both under the same black silk throw. It felt like Scottie was completely naked. She usually likes sleeping unencumbered by clothing. I usually don’t sleep with anything between my body and what covers me either.

I must have been more exhausted than I felt and nodded off while we talked. That was really sweet, Scottie made me more comfortable. Removing all my clothes except for my shirt. She did unbutton it but thought better of taking it off. Maybe she was being extremely careful not to wake me. Or she was being delicate in order not to frighten me by making me naked. I am not totally sure how I would have reacted. No clothing and lying together on a huge bed. Our bodies were touching when I opened my eyes. We were as close as two people could be.

Finding my body was skin to shirt with Scottie’s naked warmth, I realized rather quickly, our bodies must have touched all night long. On our first night in Paris, we slept together. I didn’t expect it, but it felt good to be so close and my skin touching hers. The part that was the best, it felt good doing nothing but snuggling close together.

It’s later now, Annie. I want to tell you what happened when I tried to go back to sleep lying down again next to Scottie. I pulled back the throw enough to find the same spot where I was lying when I first woke up. I was being really careful not to wake Scottie. Once I was comfortable and close enough to her, it felt like I could feel her heart pounding threw her flesh. She was hot. My body started feeling the same heat. It was a little strange, the sensations, not something I was familiar with feeling. I wanted to reach out with my hand and touch Scottie. I wanted to know if it was okay to see how it felt inside of me to feel what my touching her skin felt like to me. Would it be okay or frightened. I wanted to know.

I tried to feel Scottie on her right shoulder from the front. When my left hand felt the soft, velvet of her skin, my whole left side absorbed what felt like an electric jolt that coursed through every fiber of muscle and vessels carrying blood. It shocked me. I could bearly breathe. My whole body slowly felt it was being paralyzed. I was completely overwhelmed by the sensations. Eventually, i was able to lie down near Scottie, but I was just far enough away that our bodies wouldn’t touch, not even accidentally.

I did manage to fall asleep again, but I was flooded with dreams and at least one distinctive nightmare. The lead presence in my nightmare was Hunter Marx. There is no escaping her, even in my sleep. In this nightmare for me, she is accepting an Oscar. It was for the character I wrote in her first film. When she seduced me, then denied it after I convinced Scottie to give her the part. She never got an Oscar for her role but she got buzz, a great agent, and any part she wanted after our film put her in the viewing field.

I’ll write more later. It time to get ready to head out to the set. Scottie doesn’t like waiting. I’m not sure where we will be heading. It’s a surprise. And no, I haven’t said a word about last night to anyone but you. No one can know what happened last night. Scottie, for this moment, needs to think, all we did last night is sleep. My meltdown is only between you and me. Until my body works, no one can know what I am up to. Especially Scottie, and most definitely not Hunter.

Oh, I heard gossip Hunter has been fooling about with a woman. She is married to a producer. Who knows, maybe she is finally claiming her true sexuality. Or she’s aiming for another part just out of her grasp.

I am going to try some wandering around Paris after I meet up with my friend Jonathan Stephens. Going to call him from the set. It’s way too early. He’s a night wanderer like me. So, he is bright and still sound asleep. For me it’s still middle of the night back on the West Coast.

I may finish this letter with photographs if I get some great shots. Be hopeful for me, and remember this is Jonathan meeting me and vice versa my meeting him for the first time in the flesh. It should be wild. He smokes the ganja, so I should get mellowed out with him.

Bye till I see you on Skype. I really can’t wait. I miss you terribly already. Au revoir.

“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.”

I will end this letter in this moment of now.

Fondly,
Madison

© madison taylor 2008

ritz paris hotel plaque smaller

ritz paris Most Romantic Hotel in Paris Ritz
Madison & Scottie’s Limousine Drops Them
At The Entrance to the Hotel Ritz in Paris
Directly From the Airport

ritz L'Espadon the restaurant at the Hotel Ritz ParisMadison & Scottie Have a Small Meal
At L’Espandon
Restaurant at the Hotel Ritz in Paris
Before Retiring to Their Suite
#302 The Coco Chanel Suite

ritz paris 302 Suite Coco Chanel at the Ritz Paris

ritz paris coco chanel suite social areaMadison & Scottie’s Sitting Room
Coco Chanel’s Suite #302
At Hotel Ritz in Paris

ritz champagne glass paris Madison & Scottie Toast Their Film
“Touch of the Spirit”
With Dom Perignon
Gift of the Hotel Ritz in Paris

ritz paris coco chanel suite staircaseHotel Ritz in Paris
Coco Chanel’s Suite #302
The Staircase
Leading Up to the Bedrooms

ritz Classic Style Coco Chanel Suit Hotel Ritz ParisHotel Ritz Paris France
Coco Chanel Hotel Suite #302
Master Bedroom

Somewhere In Time – John Barry

flowers yellow white pinkish with green background of leaves for niamhFor Scottie Love Madison ♥

rain in garden gif

Time Away Fake Love Dies
By Madison Taylor
13th May 2008

Time away love dies
Risking soul’s disappearance
Pounding hearts expand closer

Skin to flesh touching
Lights dimming in deepest night
Feel fear awaken

Touching love’s senses
Alerts deaths hidden shadows
Tears at body’s flesh

Peaceful calm takes hold
Surrounds with protective spell
Haunting will subside

Strength creates safety
Binding evil winds flow warm
Darkness is fading

© madison taylor 2008

Closeup of Antonio Canovas Sculpture of Cupid and Psyche at Musee du Louvre in Paris France

Closeup of Antonio Canovas Sculpture of Cupid and Psyche at Musee du Louvre in Paris France

paris painting postcard  Eiffel Tower by Angela StaehlingEiffel Tower by Angela Staehling

“A Dream
The beginning always starts
With a dream.
It is all a dream
In our own nightmares”
— Madison Taylor

jonathan stephens imaginary framedJonathan Stephens is Madison Taylor’s friend in Paris, France. 1st time meeting. Skype. actresses-with-long-hair-hairstyle frenchHunter Marx [taken 7 years ago in 2001 year of Hunter & Madison]

paris  Louvre et TuileriesLouvre at Tulleries

paris cherry blossomsCherry Blossoms of Springtime in Paris

paris beautiful building architectureExceptional Paris Architecture

play is not just play meryl streep

Private Writings: Chapter #30 — Tea Party on the Ceiling

private writings to a psychoanalyst (c) Jk 2013

Private Writings: Chapter #30 — Tea Party on the Ceiling
Written by Jennifer Kiley
Introduction & Chapter #1
Published on March 19th 2013
Published Early Tuesday AM

Posted On Tuesday 15th October 2013

WARNING: ADULT LANGUAGE AND CONTENT.
NOT SUITABLE FOR CHILDREN.

ALL CHARACTERS ARE FICTITIOUS.
ANYONE RESEMBLING ANYONE LIVING OR DEAD
IS PURELY COINCIDENTAL.

Crypticistic Synopsis:

I am writing to Dr. Annie Haskell. My form of storytelling is through
letters containing dreams, thoughts, poems, music, describing my script
“Brief Sacrifice,” already made into a film but not yet released, psycho-
therapy, inspirations, reflective comments, the inner workings of the mind,
soul, body, emotions, and bipolar. I prefer mentally creative, interesting, or
having a brain misfiring. Included in the mix are childhood abuse, car crashes,
near drownings, drugs [the illegal kind at present], hallucinations, hypersexuality,
time warps, finding answers to unsolved mysteries, infatuation, imagination, fantasy,

and a need to discover my bliss.
See you inside.
Namaste! Madison Taylor

Private Writings: Chapter #30 — Tea Party on the Ceiling

Tuesday 8th April 2008

Dear Annie,

You really surprised me after the last group meeting. It was difficult to end it and walk out of that room. But you were by my side. I had someone to be with who would listen and understand what I was going through. It shocked me when you led me outside to your car. My face must have looked like I transformed into a ghost. You didn’t give me warning you were going to take me out after group. We drove to a coffee shop and sat outside. You ordered us a pot of green tea and an assortment of small desserts as a treat.

I wasn’t exactly thrilled by the idea. It was sweet of you but truthfully, it really freaked me out. The words wouldn’t come to me at the time. Instead I pretended to be okay. Meanwhile, my insides were twisting up inside. You thought a celebration away from the counseling center would be good for me. You forgot one thing in your surprise. How leaving a safe place, well, sort of a safe place, would make me feel. You know I am an agoraphobic. That was the first time I’ve been to a public restaurant in over 7 years. Why you thought that was a good idea, I will never understand.

I know I said I would try to work with you about going out to different places. But I thought you would prepare me before we did anything. I don’t want to say more than this about what we did. Maybe some other time we can figure out how to get me to work with you on this but I am definitely not ready to do it now.

I have a different plan for what I would like to work on this week in therapy. I found a survey which I feel could be very revealing. I plan on filling it out. It felt like a way of my telling you some personal, in-depth truths about myself. The information that is asked for looks really difficult to answer but I will try to be as honest & freely detailed as possible.

My thoughts & feelings are to treat it as though it were a Rorschach test. I will think of you asking me each request for something intimate about myself & I will answer in a responsive manner without trying to cover up my immediate reaction. It may be scary to be so revealing but I will make every effort not to hide what I am holding inside.

Let’s look at it as a test in truth & trust. Fair enough. I felt we could, then, discuss what I wrote at our next session or you could ask me from the written question what I am feeling while in our session. To make even more immediate and then compare the two responses.

I really don’t want to talk about our going out in the past session. So, I hope you like my idea of doing this. If not, I can at least give you a copy of what the survey is and how I responded. It will hopefully be informative and give you a further insight into how I work.

Now, I’m about to take a deep breath. I need to concentrate and make myself relax. I am not really good at these surveys. I’m not exactly sure why I’m putting myself through this, but I’ve already committed. So, bravery it is. Here goes:

My Mood today is… I have a touch of apprehension and feelings of disappointment even though I feel I am achieving progress on all the projects I have started. Left over fear from something I was afraid to do but found the courage inside myself to reach out of my comfort zone to actually do.

Relationship status… I have a partner who gives me amazing support. Who is there for me when I need her to be even though I feel she doesn’t always feel I am there for her, but the truth is I would do anything for her, whatever it would be, if she asked.

Health status… My cancer is in remission but I have a left over weakness I am still rebounding from which exhausts me so easily. My bipolar gives me a faux sense of energy which I use, then I crash from using it up. I don’t sleep well. Too many nightmares, Not enough good dreams.

I would describe my spiritual path as… Reincarnation. Spirits. Guardian Angels. I want to believe there is a consciousness after we leave our bodies. The Soul feels real to me. Nothing else explains all the phenomena I experience that reality cannot explain.

Main thing on my mind is… A friend I feel close to. My feelings are strong. It is so easy to hurt each other. I love her deeply. I know in my past I have always had trouble being able to maintain any relationships except my one with my partner, Scottie. Losing people I love is a huge part of my past and I am afraid part of my present and future. I do not deal with loss well. It breaks my heart when I lose anyone I love. And it seems like it happens too frequently and continually in my life. I know many actors and entertainers from my connections through Scottie. Scottie likes to have parties. Some of those people we have gotten close to have died suddenly, shocking the world. But for those who knew them, it is even more difficult. So, I would say loss seems to always be on my mind. It never gives me a moment of peace.

My ambitions are…. To be writing my screenplays and hoping for success to continue. I wish to be nominated for a BAFTA, a Golden Globe, and an Oscar. It would be amazing to reach the ability to write such a script that would move people to actually be positively affected by what I have to say with my words. Also, to someday write a play good or great enough for Broadway. I’ve always dreamed of being in the theatre as well as the movies, once upon a time to be on stage but then I realized I preferred being the one who wrote the words the actors spoke.

What I want most is…. I would love to have enough money to start many different organizations which would care for animals, children who have been abused, grown-ups dealing with their abuse as adults, retreats to support artists in all areas of creative expression, set up a scholarship fund to enable those who want to pursue the arts through training whether it be college or workshops, to become a patron of gifted artists. I want to be clear when I use the word artists, I am referring to the arts inclusive of painters, writers, poets, sculptures, those in the graphic arts, film. I have already established a film production company with Scottie, I would love to start a school for training actors. Find the best professionals to do workshops. Go back to the ways of the Actors Studio with Lee Strasburg and train actors in the way of Great Britain.

What I need most is…. How to be able to feel love without fear mixed in. To make love without shutting down from the fear I learned when I was abused as a child and as an adult. To feel close to people who I love and who want to love me in return. To not replay the abuse when someone I am close to might trigger a behavior that feels like the way an abuser seduced me or made me feel.

I have been reading…. A great many books on Bipolar, literature, poetry, Anais Nin, Virginia Woolf. I love fantasy, and the mystical. My great passion are books on psychology, mysteries and psychological thrillers.

I have been watching… Lost. This series has me hypnotized. I watch my DVDs on my favorite series of all times, “Twin Peaks” by David Lynch. I watch films day and night, also. I love the classics. In the late 30s through the early 70s, that is when the best films were made.

I have been listening to…. Classical, folk, some pop, some rap, musical theatre, Celtic. Specific performers: Yo-Yo Ma,

My best characteristics are…. I am kind & gentle. I listen & try to understand people who need someone to listen to them. I am empathetic. I try to encourage & give support to other. I love animals more than any other creatures on the planet and care about them. I am an animal whisperer. I draw animals & people out who are withdrawn & feel unable to trust anyone.

My worst characteristics are… I lose my temper too easily & become irritable. My bipolar sets this behavior off in me. I withdraw from people. I am not sure if this is a characteristic but my feelings get hurt really easily & I am not very forgiving. I hate saying I am sorry. That has to do with my childhood.

My vices are… I don’t really have any now. I use to smoke, do drugs, drink coffee, swear, sexual often, spending too much money, got drunk, but I don’t do any of these now, except swearing but I don’t see that as a vice.

Politically I would describe myself as… Progressive. I want peace everywhere. I feel everyone should be taken care of & have their needs met in any way possible.

In terms of fashion and lifestyle I would describe myself as… Casual. Relaxed. Not into latest fashion. I like to be comfortable. Warm when it’s cold out. Cool when it is warm out.

I would like to learn… Several new languages. French, Spanish, Italian, Arabic, I would like to learn how to play the piano properly, not the way I know how to play it now. I would like to learn how to make a film that are computer generated animation with fantastic images.

My recent regrets are… Hurting someone I would never have wanted to hurt ever in my life.

My recent achievements are… Completing a screenplay that has been made into a film which is almost ready to be released to the theatre audience. Created a poetry collection that is due to be published very soon.

My message to myself is… I feel I am a good person. I love the people and animals I love and I let them know how I feel. I try to give myself a break for not being perfect. I need to be easier on myself for making mistakes. I need to stop being so hard on myself. I need to let myself be loved. Lastly, I want to tell myself it is okay to feel what it is like to be loved in all ways, emotionally, psychologically, spiritually, physically and sexually. It is okay for me to let go of the abuse of the past and feel the generosity of love being given to me now without feeling scared to feel it and to share it and to return the love without fear.

How do you think I did, Annie? I thought I was pretty direct. Maybe a B+ for courage and an A+ for effort.
Maybe it’s time to change the subject. “Brief Sacrifice” feels like it is in order. I am sure you must be curious by now to find out what is in the Silver Box with absolutely not seems or ways of opening it up. It will take magic. James, Carter McLeod’s Savannah cat, he is the key to the Silver Box. It is up to him to perform a certain task. You must recall James is psychic. One of his many qualities.

Another one of His abilities is to cause objects to perform in ways contrary to their make-up and ability. In these cases, James needs to concentrate. In his mind, lies the key with the Power to make anything do what He wants it to do. How is James, a mere cat, going to know what is expected of him, you ask? Magic. He is filled with Magic.
Not the kind David Blaine or David Copperfield perform. They are smoke and mirrors.

James is of the Deeper Magic. The Magic that caused the world to be Created. Deeper, even more than that. It is the Magic which caused the Big Bang to occur. The kind that created the Universe and all the Stars, Planets, Solar Systems, Quarks, Black Holes, and Cosmos upon Cosmos. All that makes the Universe expand, divide and create Multi-verses. The Magic of Infinity, Reincarnation, Karma and Nirvana, Dragons and Mythical Creatures, once they were Real but they disappeared into the Ether. Yet, they exist still but only reveal themselves to those who have the power of the Seer. The Power of Sight.

James will be the catalyst to save humankind. He will open the door to All of Time. Nikola Tesla has created from the Deeper Magic, a gift for Humankind. Within the Silver Box, this gift has rested since Nikola Tesla gave the Silver Box to the old man. And now Carter McLeod is in possession of this Silver Box. It is up to Jackson Sharp to open the power within James, so he will be able to open the Silver Box. Once it is opened, the content will be revealed. But even then the Magic will not be revealed. The Magic is within the Gift in the Silver Box. It must be understood before the Magic can be awakened held within the Gift.

This is as far as we will go in this letter. Let your imagination follow these revelations. Find the path in which it leads. Eventually, all with be revealed. Patience is of the utmost importance in this matter.

Oh, my, the story within my script, within the film “Brief Sacrifice” is a wild ride. It has barely begun.
Till I see you next Tuesday and we discuss my survey and whatever else comes up, I am going to rest. And later, I may work on my latest screenplay. I will tell something about it when I am ready. It is at a stage when it needs to be between me and my computer screen.

Hope you will have a good week until I see you next week.

Fondly,
Madison

Annie Haskell --- Madison Tayler's Psychoanalyst's Office

Dr. Annie Haskell’s Office as a Psychoanalyst

Somewhere In Time – John Barry

Tiger orchid #14 Robert Mapplethorp

Tiger orchid #14 Robert Mapplethorp

rain in garden gif

“Dreaming In Chaos”
Narrative Haiku [5-7-7]
by Madison Taylor

Tuesday 15th April 2008

Dreaming in chaos
Two divided both broken
Friendship betrayed lost purpose

Claim broken is wrong
Trusting in truth essential
Comprehension not valid

Devotion damaged
Disparaging remarks stabbed
Distortion destroyed feelings

Time elicits pain
Illusion perceived unearthed
Difference creates changes

Pieces broke not healed
Damage increases distance
Understand ethereal

Vanishing goodness
Pressure continues more stabs
Bleeding emotions lose hope

No cure in future
Hopelessness drying in stone
What was grey turned black and white

© madison taylor 2008

Abstract Chaos --- Artist Anonymous

Abstract Chaos — Artist Anonymous

“A Dream
The beginning always starts out
With a dream.
It is all a dream
In our own nightmares”
— Madison Taylor

Patrick is our Bengal cat in tree. He loves Scotties. They are buddies.   1612x1212 Patrick-our Bengal cat up in his tree-Scottie’s buddy

Havana Brown Kitten  Madison and Scottie's kitten One of the Two   800x600

Havana Brown Kitten Madison & Scottie’s. This cutie is Toker. He has a twin brother Mikey

Snow Dragon with Woman --- Digital Art by Eyu Letsana. Borrowed from The Dragon of the Month Post of MacKenzie's Dragonsnest. See Below for the Link to you site and the Post the Snow Dragon is Featured.

Snow Dragon with Woman — Digital Art by Eyu Letsana. Borrowed from The Dragon of the Month Post of MacKenzie’s Dragonsnest. Link below to Shawn MacKenzie’s, site and her post featuring the Snow Dragon.

The Frost is on the Dragon — Posted Thursday 10th October 2013 on MacKenzie’s Dragonsnest . [Blog Name is Link].

These are some of the Illustrated Images of Mythical Creatures and Dragon to be featured in the Film “Brief Sacrifice.” They are key to aiding in Carter McLeod finding the secrets which eventually will need to be discovered in order to carry out the Friends of Nikola Tesla’s plans for the future of humankind.

neil gaiman from stardust 972x633

Neil Gaiman from Stardust

play is not just play meryl streep

Private Writings: Chapter #26 — Wizardry of Id

private writings by jennifer kileyPrivate Writings: Chapter #26 — Wizardry of Id
Written by Jennifer Kiley
Illustrated by j. kiley
Published Introduction & Chapter #1 On 19th March 2013
Published Early Tuesday AM
Posted On 17th September 2013

WARNING: ADULT LANGUAGE AND CONTENT.
NOT SUITABLE FOR CHILDREN.

ALL CHARACTERS ARE FICTITIOUS.
ANYONE RESEMBLING ANYONE LIVING OR DEAD
IS PURELY COINCIDENTAL.

Crypticistic Synopsis:

I am writing to Dr. Annie Haskell. My form of storytelling is through letters containing dreams, thoughts, poems, music, describing my script ‘Brief Sacrifice,’ already made into a film but not yet released, psychotherapy, inspirations, reflective comments, the inner workings of the mind, soul, body, emotions, and bipolar. I prefer mentally creative, interesting, or having a brain misfiring. Included in the mix are childhood abuse, car crashes, near drownings, drugs [the illegal kind at present], hallucinations, hypersexuality, time warps, finding answers to unsolved mysteries, infatuation, imagination, fantasy,

and a need to discover my bliss.
See you inside.
— Namaste! Madison Taylor

Private Writings: Chapter #26 — Wizardry of Id

Tuesday 18th March 2008

Dear Annie,

I have been feeling like I am close to the edge. Shortly, after leaving our session, remembering what we talked about triggered an awful reaction inside of me. My psyche is in a full blown depression. Talking about Dr. George, feeling like he was raping me, making me have to be in a room with him again. He forced me. If I didn’t I would have lost you before I even had a chance to find you. He had no right to dangle you as a piece of candy. I submit and get raped. I say no, I lose you. How is that acceptable for a therapist to repeat my abuse on me so I will get the attention I need so badly. Why did you let him do that? Now I feel suicidal. The darkness is surrounding me. It feels like the shadow creatures in “Ghost.” They are going to pull me into Hell. Any moment I am going to be forced to kill myself.

You should have stopped him. Never agreed to his terms. Just accepted me and told him to go fuck off. I didn’t deserve to be forced, when I already made it clear I didn’t want to do what he wanted. How should I feel? How can I react any differently? Now, I am having my doubts. Are you going to protect me from my nightmares? Keep them away from my dreams? I have imagined being with you, doing therapy the right way for so long. I never thought you would be part of terms from him in order for me to be with you. Should I be disappointed or feel lucky? I got my dream therapist. Or so it seems.

You did protect me in the closure session, but I shouldn’t have had to be there. It made me furious. I felt you held me inside your power. You threw up a protective shield. I felt it. But he was there, too close, so creepy. I couldn’t look at him. My skin crawled. He was looking at me firing off lies. Just like my shadow mother did many years ago.

When I was a teenager. She came to one of my sessions with my first therapist. In front of me, she spoke words coated with black tar. All lies. Professed she had no idea what I was talking about when I said I was tortured by her. She denied ever doing anything to me. At that point, I wasn’t about to tell her about my other abusers. It was sufficient to try to confront her with my therapist to protect me. In the last moments of her presence in my therapist’s office, I just lost it. I couldn’t stand hearing the lies for a minute longer. I fired off at her a list which grew in my head since I was little, of all the abuses she committed on my flesh, my mind, my emotions. I had to cut myself off. It was a painting without a canvas to record the truth. She shook her head in denial. Making it seem to my therapist I was making the whole tale up in my imagination.

After my therapist returned from escorting her back to the waiting area, she took a seat at her desk and looked at me. All I could say to her was I am not crazy. I wasn’t lying. Her response: “Your mother is crazy. Of course, I believe you. She was lying or had buried what she had done so deep, she believed her lies. It is quite possible if she had remembered her abusing you in the horrible way she did, it would literally drive her over the edge into complete madness. It is enough she is borderline, with one step inside of madness.”

Her words reassured me I was actually sane. She told me if I was going to “lose my mind,” it would have happened while I was doing all the LSD and smoking pot. I did have grand hallucinations and moments when I thought I had lost touch with reality. LSD really can make you feel paranoid. What the fuck I was thinking, doing hallucinogens. I put them into my body. I will stop short at doing mushrooms. They are a spiritual experience. I read the whole “Bhagavad Gita” while tripping. Whoa, that books takes you to such heights of deep awareness. I felt Bliss. True Bliss. That was a worthy experience.

Annie, writing to you or just writing has made me feel a bit better. Why do people fuck with other people’s minds and lives?

I think I am freaking a little because I told you today about my letters and poems. They have been my secret for so long. Revealing I wrote to you made me feel too vulnerable. You want me to bring them to my sessions and to read you some of what I write, especially the poems. You, also, liked I was telling you the story from my script for Scottie and my film “Brief Sacrifice.” The idea of a secret society guarding Nikola Tesla’s secrets. The thought of a perfect Utopia. If anyone could pull off setting up something so grand “Tesla” could. I didn’t tell you what is in the Silver Box. I am not sure I should reveal the secret. It would ruin the mystery of the film.

It is such a cool secret. I will give you a hint. “Anywhere is possible, as long as it has happened already, somewhere in time.”

Can you guess from this clue?

I think I will write my poem for you. See if I can shake the rest of these feelings of the shadows surrounding me. Wanting to do harm to me or wanting me to do harm to myself.

I want you to know I want to trust you. What you did with him, felt like a betrayal. You conspired to force me to give in against my will and better judgement. I am not sure it will be easy for me to get past it. We need to work on not forcing me into something I don’t want to do. When I say “No,” I need to be respected. Words meant nothing to my abusers, especially the words, “NO” and “STOP.”

I am going to close the letter portion here and continue on to write my feelings into a poem. Maybe, I will better express what is happening inside my mind and heart, I do have strong feelings building up and putting pressure on my psyche. You are my wizard now. You must help me understand myself. Why I am unable to let go of my feelings, what am I feeling, and what the hell drives me. The highest concern in my head is why I cannot enjoy anything that would bring pleasure to anyone else.

Wish me luck on writing a poem for you, Annie. If it is going to be my first, I want you to see inside of me.

I am signing out on my letter to you.

Fondly,
Madison

Annie Haskell --- Madison Tayler's Psychoanalyst's Office

Dr. Annie Haskell’s Office as a Psychoanalyst

Somewhere In Time – John Barry

lily open pink purple mix

rain in garden gif

Of Highest Concern
By Madison Taylor
18th March 2008

Intruder thrusts knife
Pressure pierces deep in flesh
Sensations of pain spreading

Bleeding stills body
Force penetrates privacy
Ripping away self-control

Will overpowers
Trembling from intensity
Inner strength halts invasion

© madison taylor 2008

rookie wood  2013  artist paul wood

“A Dream
The beginning always starts out
With a dream.
It is all a dream
In our own nightmares”
— Madison Taylor

Patrick is our Bengal cat in tree. He loves Scotties. They are buddies.   1612x1212

Patrick-our Bengal cat up in his tree-Scottie’s buddy

Havana Brown Kitten  Madison and Scottie's kitten One of the Two   800x600

Havana Brown Kitten Madison & Scottie’s. This cutie is Toker. He has a twin brother Mikey

bedroom perfect high windows light

play is not just play meryl streep

Poetry Out Loud: Change

poetry out loud - day title saturdayChange
Written by Jennifer Kiley
Illustrated by j. kiley
Post Created Friday 13th September 2013
Posted Saturday 14th 2013
POETRY OUT LOUD

la fleur bleu d'artiste by j. kiley (c) jennifer kiley 2013

la fleur bleu d’artiste by j. kiley (c) jennifer kiley 2013

Change
Written by Jennifer Kiley
Thursday 12th September 2013

Change makes life magic
Wandering wild through the mind
Freeing crust covering dreams

Expectations gone
Stretch universe past limits
Liberation wide open

Art is creative
Rescued ideas in thoughts
No depth created not art

© jennifer kiley 2013

flowing time by yaroslava

Flowing Time by Yaroslava

Cant U Feel the Change — David Guetta

Private Writings: Chapter #25 — Private Dancer

private writings by jennifer kileyPrivate Writings: Chapter #25 — Private Dancer
Written by Jennifer Kiley
Published Introduction & Chapter #1 On 19th March 2013
Published Early Tuesday AM
Posted On 10rd September 2013
WARNING: ADULT LANGUAGE AND CONTENT.
NOT SUITABLE FOR CHILDREN.

ALL CHARACTERS ARE FICTITIOUS.
ANYONE RESEMBLING ANYONE LIVING OR DEAD
IS PURELY COINCIDENTAL.

Crypticistic Synopsis:

I am writing to Dr. Annie Haskell. My form of storytelling is through letters containing dreams, thoughts, poems, music, describing my script ‘Brief Sacrifice,’ already made into a film but not yet released, psychotherapy, inspirations, reflective comments, the inner workings of the mind, soul, body, emotions, and bipolar. I prefer mentally creative, interesting, or having a brain misfiring. Included in the mix are childhood abuse, car crashes, near drownings, drugs [the illegal kind at present], hallucinations, hypersexuality, time warps, finding answers to unsolved mysteries, infatuation, imagination, fantasy,

and a need to discover my bliss.
See you inside.
— Namaste! Madison Taylor

Private Writings: Chapter #24 — Private Dancer

Tuesday 11th March 2008

Dear Annie,

What do I say to you about our first day of private therapy.

If you could imagine my waiting for you to come out to get me in the waiting room. My insides were flipping over. The chair could have floated out from underneath me, I was ascending to the ceiling so often. Then it came. Your hand gently resting on my shoulder. The electric current woke me from a trance. My ear buds were in. Music was high, playing ‘Everything I Do, I Do It For You.’ I’m sure you’re familiar with Bryan Adams.

You touched me. It was the first time. So unexpected but I didn’t flinch. Your hand felt so safe. No touch does from people. Why, then was it okay with you? Therapy began in a moment I never will forget.

I didn’t say anything. Just followed you to your office. It was exactly how my mind imagined it. There is a photograph in my head. Your office is exactly identical. I have been seeing the future again.

What did we talk about? I was in a daze. Being alone with you was overwhelming. After the long wait of wishing for just this day. It seemed like being inside of a dream I’ve been dreaming forever. You have been buried, living inside my mind. You are the one.

Explaining what I mean is beyond human words. It is buried in memories outside of time. A recurring sense of familiarity without any connection till now. It is of times past. Other lives. Reincarnation. Having been together before now. We knew and lived in other times together. What I am writing sounds certifiable to most. Look how people tease Shirley MacLaine. People believe but are embarrassed by believing in such seemingly bizarre, other dimensional phenomena. I do believe mostly, but have doubts when others question the strength of my beliefs.

I am so easily influenced. What I believe floats with the breeze and seems too easily changeable as is the direction of the wind. It is not because I don’t belief what I do belief, it’s my need to question everything. Which leaves me feeling confused, as though I stand on the solidness of quicksand most of the time.

Everything in life confuses me. In a moment I will believe in something being as real as anything can be. In a flash the connection is broken. Reality turns into a nightmare of chaotic brainwaves of disbelief. A crumbling of my reality into a collection of delusional thoughts, a puzzle where the pieces don’t fit together any way you try to make sense of them.

I lose track. Stop knowing what to believe. Testing anything becomes too frightening. The fear, is my reality is false, and my delusions are true. What does one do when thinking and feeling like the world is alien, which trips back and forth at will, no control from within me.

I think it is why I like fantasy. Watching movies. Reading books. Writing outrageous fiction. Creating cryptic poetry. The abstract is more acceptable. It can be whatever it wants to be. Change when it wants to. It is simply accepted. A true shape-shifter. Maybe I am one. Never the same. Always someone different.

Will you be able to help me. I need a complete internal make-over. Inside of me lives a very fucked up mess. Filled with fear. Wanting to love but retreating as soon as it feels too close. Reaching for it. Shutting down when it is given. I would say I am really screwed. The up part I let it be cut off. Most of the time I don’t feel up. When I do, it drives everyone crazy except me. I don’t live outside my body. I don’t notice the extreme agitation and rage. I become fixated and driven. I have no idea why I feel the way I do, except most of the moments when I am awake I chase after the muse to keep up. Exactly like Alice with her White Rabbit. I fall down the Rabbit Hole on a regular basis.

The Mad-Hatter is a really great friend, if one can be friends with someone as crazy as you are. Actually, maybe it is easier. Is there a direction we can take to relieve the pressure? The urges to want out of this world. Oh, yeah, the state of suicidal thinking is a regular visitor in my head. We are co-operating companions. I won’t let her harm me, she knows it is true, so the deal is, I let her exist as long as she lets me have my moments of being in my bliss or high, so I can write and create. She even helps sometimes find those hidden meanings and depth I find so elusive. She knows the secret passageways to memories. Knowledge one can’t find in the wide awake world. Too much bright light can hide the views of the darkness. The answers lie in the darkness. The ones I am seeking.

So what did we talk about. I asked you to tell me who you were. Not using those words. You told me you had a daughter in high school, ninth grade I believe. She wants to be an actor. The plays and musicals she’s been in, all were as the lead. See if my memory fails or leads me to the correct answers. Memory failure is common with me. To begin with, she played Maria in West Side Story. Let me think, she was Juliet in Shakespeare’s modernized production of my beloved ‘Romeo and Juliet.’ Marvelous play. Such an ending, an example of extremely bad timing all around for all those ending up dead. Quite a high number but not as severe as Hamlet.

Which brings me to Hamlet. Her school switched things up a bit on Elizabethan rules, had a lady playing a young man in the way of Hamlet. Your daughter was the lucky one to win the sweet role. The sheer fact at her age to succeed at doing a shortened version of Hamlet or any version is extremely difficult. But you told me she always received excellent write-ups in the local paper and school paper, on all her performances. Which makes me feel and think I would like to meet her someday. Make an attempt to write her the perfect part in one of my screenplays. We will discuss this. If she has aspirations toward being a professional actor, Scottie, my partner in life and career, is a director. We have our own production company, ‘Infinite Imaginations, Inc. III.’ If you would like and she agrees, we could arrange a screen test, see how she appears through the eye of the camera.

If you help to fix me, I would be overjoyed to help you with your daughters future in the world of film. It would, actually be my pleasure. You would know she’d be safe with Scottie watching out for her. And I’d write her an Oscar winning role. Not over-confident, am I?

This leads me right into my favorite part of writing to you. I love telling you about my work and particularly my latest script, ‘Brief Sacrifice.’ We left off with Carter pursuing a lead, following the trail of the Magic Silver Box without any seams and impossible to open. Carter needed the input of her three companions, Jasper, Jax, and James, her Savannah Cats. James’ specific psychic ability was the best way to sort things out but they must follow the trail of its origin.

The first destination was the Estate where Carter purchased her Treasure. Hopefully, they could provide information as to the origins or name of the deceased whose Estate was being sold. If Carter had that name, it could lead to other connections.

After arriving, they found the caretaker. He directed Carter to the lawyer’s office who managed the deceased estate. The firm was hired by Jackson Sharp, to take care of closing out the estate. They directed Carter to where she could locate him.

When she found Jackson Sharp, he invited her in, as though he was expecting her. After the amenities, he asked her and her companions to make themselves very comfortable, for he, Jackson Sharp had a story to tell them.

He started out his story as follows: “The deceased was the Leader of the Organization: The Friends of Nikola Tesla. He managed the Friends of Nikola Tesla since shortly after his, Tesla’s, death at a young age . He died penniless after creating amazing inventions. He worked for Edison, whom he had no affection for but was fortunate to have acquired the support of an extremely wealthy entrepreneur in Morgan and later joined by another wealthy benefactor.”

“Tesla was moving forward with his inventions until he came upon a way for everyone in the world to have free electricity by simply putting a specially devised pole in the ground. The best part is the power from these sources would not only make electricity free, it would eventually create absolutely no need for the use of fossil fuels. Oil that is, Texas gold.”

“Well, his wealthy benefactors did not want this invention to ever see the light of his invention. They buried him. Withdrew their financial support. No one was ever going to see his dream in action. It did sneak into the invention of the Tesla Electric Car, which is doing very well.”

“After Tesla’s death, the U.S. Government absconded with all his possessions where he was living, and hid them away. Did they get everything, though? I believed in Nikola Tesla, myself, once I heard the story from the old man who died. I’m sorry I cannot tell you his identity, it was my promise to never reveal his secret.

“Tesla was brilliant. Did anyone believe he would not have secret locations where he would hide his own secret inventions. Especially after all which had been stolen from him. He was sure to want to leave a legacy for the future where he hoped there would be those who would understand his genius and his amazing capabilities. I am privileged to those secrets. During the remaining years of his life, the old man, with a group of secret individuals of like minds, protected Nikola Tesla’s answers to the future of humankind.”

“These secrets are set to be passed down through generations until humankind is worthy of the powers Nikola Tesla put into his work and dreams. Even the powers of electricity free for all is well hidden away until the world can rid itself of the parasites who live off the energy of the masses. Who cast them aside as though they meant nothing. The .01% of the population are those parasites who are starving the world as they destroy the beauty in nature and make slaves of the majority of humankind. Their day will fall. They will disappear for good.”

“On that day, all the secrets will be revealed. Humankind will make a change. All will be new. The world will be recreated. This is Nikola Tesla’s dream and what Friends of Nikola Tesla are protecting until the time comes for his Dream to be put into full action.”

“All of this is contained in a special Silver Box filled with Magical abilities. This Magic has the capability to alter the world enough so that Change and Truth can be revealed. If I am not mistaken,” Jackson Stark said. “You are in possession of this Silver Box ?”

“Yes, that is correct, but how did you know?” Carter said.

“It was meant to belong to you. You were chosen. I will explain, but let us rest now. I will have arrangements made for you, Carter, and your companions to stay here for while. It’s just for your own protection.”

“What protection? Why do we need protection?”

“The contents of the Silver Box is being searched for as we speak. Many extremely dangerous people will not stop ever until it is found, those who have knowledge of it and those who are in possession of it, are all destroyed. What you hold in your possession is truly Magical, with powers you will find very difficult to understand. It is too soon to get into what it is. The time will be soon enough.”

“Now let me show you to your suite, where you can make your selves comfortable. I will prepare a delicious meal for everyone. Don’t worry Jasper, Jax and you, too, James. I know James, you are the Special One with all the psychic talents. It’s rare to find a cat who matches up with a companion who understands his ability. You can, can’t you, Carter! You have the Magic, also. That is partly why you were all chosen. But there you are. I am getting ahead of myself. I will leave now. Get comfortable. You will find snacks for all in the small refrigerator over against the wall, just over there. Now, I take my leave. Dinner will come shortly, I promise. I will ring you on the intercom. Rest. You will need it for what’s ahead.”

He disappeared. They did as he said and all rested.

And I will stop there. Leave you wanting more.

What a day. A dream comes true. Fear is rising. But telling you my tale of Magic calms me down.

I know I didn’t say anything about the group. What I would have to write would take away from the specialness of having you all to myself today. I don’t want to think about group anymore. I wish it would just end. Be done with it. The only reason I still go now is to see you. Now I can do that on my own. I will leave group at saying there is little I will miss. The past too many years have only been a disaster I should have ended long ago. But I know now, why I didn’t. It was meant for me to live through, till the day came I would meet you, Annie. Serendipity. Maybe. Sometimes what leads up to it can be extremely painful. I needed to learn what I didn’t need, to discover what I do need, and want. Enough from that lesson. Let it be over now. Enough!

Time to stop.

Until I see you next time.

Fondly and Gratefully, I sign off with much appreciation to you, Annie.

Always Want To Know You,

Madison

Annie Haskell --- Madison Tayler's Psychoanalyst's Office

Dr. Annie Haskell’s Office as a Psychoanalyst

Somewhere In Time – John Barry

Forget-Me-Nots

Forget-Me-Nots

rain in garden giftrusting
written by madison taylor
monday 10th february 2008

trusting the newness
memories overturning
in graves their awakening

arms pull warmth to me
body’s touching silky skin
caressing gently my dreams

feeling hands inside
flesh responds in still silence
open wanting pleads let go

© madison taylor 2008

a matter of time --- artist katherine patrick

a matter of time — artist katherine patrick

Nothing Out There — Soundcloud — Soundtrack ‘Brief Sacrifice’

“A Dream
The beginning always starts out
With a dream.
It is all a dream
In our own nightmares”
— Madison Taylor

Patrick is our Bengal cat in tree. He loves Scotties. They are buddies.   1612x1212

Patrick-our Bengal cat up in his tree-Scottie’s buddy

Havana Brown Kitten  Madison and Scottie's kitten One of the Two   800x600

Havana Brown Kitten Madison & Scottie’s. This cutie is Toker. He has a twin brother Mikey

Chateau de Rocher Art Gallery  999x752

Chateau de Rocher Art Gallery

play is not just play meryl streep