Private Writings: Chapters #57 — Whenever I Want You

private writings to a psychoanalyst (c) Jk 2013

Private Writings: Chapter #57 – Whenever I Want You

Written by Jennifer Kiley
Introduction & Chapter #1
Published on March 19th 2013
Published Early Tuesday AM
Posted On Tuesday 15th April 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 & bliss
but to most importantly
tell the best tale ever after upon a time

see you down the rabbit hole.

Private Writings: Chapter #57 — Whenever I Want You

[Madison's Fourth Week Being Held at Redcliff Psychiatric Institute After a Failed Suicide Attempt...]

Tuesday 7th October 2008

Dear Annie,

Writings from my own “A Writer’s Diary,” while I am inside Redcliff Psychiatric Institute. It is the best way to keep track of what is going on. I want evidence if they fuck me up more than I already am. So far they haven’t forced any pharma meds on me, and they won’t allow me access to my Medical Marijuana either, even though I am licensed to legally use it as a medication to treat health issues and as my psych meds. I stopped taking pharma except for Klonopin. Getting off of that feels almost as bad as I imagine stopping cold from heroin. My hands wouldn’t stop shaking. My insides felt jumpy and nauseous. I was going from cold sweats to freezing than feeling like I couldn’t cool off. My mind was freaking me out. I finally told my doctor I needed to keep taking at least half of the dosage. It was feeling impossible to stop. Seems I am stuck with the Klonopin until my doc and I can figure out how to trick my system into thinking it is still receiving my drug of choice to killing myself.

Jamie, my sweet friend, with whom I am wickedly crushing on, saved my life. Not so sure I’ve decided yet to thank her. Jamie blew my mind when she played Carter McLeod in my recent screenwriting success in “Brief Sacrifice.” She was excellent. Scottie told me the gross at present is well over $45,000,000. We made it for $17,500,000, rounded off. It has only just been released overseas.

It’s a great time traveling mystery hooked into Nikola Tesla. It has the edge of the book “Da Vinci Code,” but the film is tighter and more thrilling. Having a female protagonist is what makes it so much more intriguing. It gets pretty exhausting always having a man be the hero. Come on, men are not as brave as women. They like to think so but their guts churn as much as ours do, except society won’t allow men to show their more delicate feminine side. There is nothing wrong with a man being sensitive, nor a woman. Being a man in this world may have its perks but I would never want to be a man, too vulnerable in many ways.

A new day.

As usual, I went way off subject while writing my entry yesterday. Jamie’s visit was touching and depressing. I told her I thought I was in love with her, but it had nothing to do with sex. It was the feeling of closeness with her that made me feel secure. Like I wasn’t alone. I just wanted her to hold me while we would just lie down together and snuggle. More for comfort than something prurient. It was all innocent. Jamie wasn’t sure it was a good idea to get that close. What would Scottie think?

Scottie and I have an understanding. Nothing ever becomes sexual unless it is forced. I don’t sleep with other woman for sex. I have never slept with anyone for sex. The fact that sex has been foisted upon me by the desires of other people, is not my doing. My therapists have all told me, the sexual abuse and the mind and emotional abuse scarred me so severely when I was a child and the abuse followed me into my adult life. I have always been unable to stop an abuser. My fight or flight reflexes don’t work. I freeze when threatened by anything and I don’t know how to stop a person from forcing themselves on me.

When Sylvia’s drug incapacitated me, it was like living in a nightmare. My body couldn’t shut down. My usual escape route was blocked off by her cleverness. I couldn’t dissociate. She had me trapped. I saw and felt everything that she did. It was brutal. She was brutal. It felt like having surgery without anesthesia. It’s why I had to kill myself. What she did when she stole my means of removing myself from her abuse, it opened the door for all my abusers to gang rape me, beginning that night and ever since. All the things they have done have been flooding my mind and body ever since the night Sylvia took me hostage, paralyzed me, and sexually savaged my body. It was painful on all levels of sensitivity. Sylvia was possessed by a demon when she raped me. The time was endless. I never felt she would stop. In fact, she didn’t stop on her own.

Jamie broke through the locked door to my study. Once she was in the room, she assessed the situation and immediately attacked Sylvia and pulled Sylvia away from me. It was at that moment when James leaped on Sylvia’s back. He latched his claws into her back while he pinned her to the floor. James is a Savannah cat. He is enormous. His weight is over 40 pounds. He sat on her, with claws dug in while Jamie called ‘911’ and the three of us waited for them to arrive.

Where was Scottie? I wanted to see Scottie. She would know what to do. But I couldn’t speak. I was in a drug haze which shut down my motor functions, including my speech center. Jamie must have seen the helplessness in my eyes, and realized I needed help right away. She tried Scottie on her cell but no answer. She sent a text, hoping Scottie would see it and come right after seeing the text.

The police and paramedics arrived, one after the other. That caught Scottie’s attention from their party. She had no idea what the fuck was going on. She followed them to where I was. Jamie had given instructions to the ‘911’ operator. Once Scottie was in my study, she looked around in a stunned fashion and asked Jamie, “What the Hell is going on here? What happened to Madison?”

Jamie explained it as much as she could figure out. Sylvia drugged Madison. She told Scottie the study door was locked and when I didn’t answer. Jamie thought that was too odd so she broke down the door. What she saw was so disturbing, she told Scottie she couldn’t describe it, except to say that Sylvia was literally raping me. She said, I was silent. I appeared unable to speak at all.

Scottie rushed over to me. I was being attended to by the paramedics. They were taking my vitals. My pulse and heartbeat were extremely slow. They called into the ER of the nearest hospital. They told the doctor on call, they had a patient who had a weak and thready pulse. They were concerned it may be a drug overdose but not self-administered. Instead the paramedic told the doctor, she felt the patient was in shock from the effects of the drug. Also, the patient had undergone a situation where she was forcibly raped by another woman who used objects, which visibly were covered in blood, that would have cause internal injuries, possibly tearing the flesh.

The paramedic went on to describe the patient, me, that I had severe cuts on my body that were still bleeding. Other bleeding came from wounds within my mouth, and internally from inside my vaginal area. How deep the injuries were could not be detected in the field. The patient needed immediate ultrasound.

I heard what she was saying to the doctor at the ER and felt like I was in a movie theatre hearing a scene after a battle in a war zone.

The female paramedic kept giving the doctor information. She told the doctor they did not know how the drug was administered or specifically what the drug was or whether there was only one drug used. Scottie was hearing all this as she stared into my eyes. I could see her tears. She held my hand and kept squeezing it as the paramedics worked on me. Her hand felt good holding mine. It took me away from the circus going on around me.

The doctor ordered the paramedics to rush me immediately to the ER for tests and to start flushing the drugs out of my system. Once that was achieved, they would do further tests to see what kind of physical damage was caused due to the attack and rape.

The paramedics secured me to the stretcher. Once it was elevated, they rushed me out of my study, taking a route that would not bring me into the area where the party was taking place. They were trying to be as sensitive as possible and to cause the least amount of added trauma to me. I was a corpse with a pulse at this point, and a thready one at that.

What I could feel is my life slipping away. How long was I with Sylvia? How long was she using my body as her own torture victim? Time was irrelevant. It has disappeared. My mind wasn’t functioning. Jamie filled me in on all of this today. All that she was able to put together herself.

The hospital was not talking to anyone about me except Scottie. Even with Scottie, they tried to give her a difficult time seeing me. I had signed a power of attorney and a living will giving Scottie control of my health. This kept the hospital from blocking her from me and my records. So Scottie was able to find out everything there was to know at present, but she decided I didn’t need to know everything.

Scottie is a great protector but I needed to know. She felt I should talk to you, Annie. It seems she has spoken to you and filled you in. Maybe you can tell me more. Jamie told me what her perceptions picked up, but she doesn’t know everything. What really happened that night?

Dr. Virginia McKinnon, my psychiatrist here at Redcliff, won’t even tell me what she knows. Her theory is, it would be too dangerous to me to have all the information at once. She was concerned it might trigger an even stronger reaction to my feeling suicidal. The information would overload my mind, and push me closer to the edge than I am already.

A new day.

Jamie, I fell asleep last night thinking of you. My wish is for you to be my emotional lover. Someone I can have feelings for but who will not abandon me. I feel Jamie is safe. She is going to be showing up soon. After our visit, I will record what happened between us.

Later, after seeing Jamie.

Jamie told me she loved me but as a friend, not someone she had romantic feelings for. I tried to explain, I just wanted to be close. No sexual demands, strictly love, pure love. She told me we could talk about this another time. When I was stronger. It seemed it really needed a better setting than a psych hospital. She wasn’t going away, but past hugging, Jamie didn’t feel she could give that to me, even though she realized I needed someone to be close to me, to hold me. “Give Scottie a chance.” That is what Jamie suggested. I wasn’t sure Scottie would want to. Scottie was not into touching and cuddling. It wasn’t what she needed from me, to make a demand of closeness. Not really a demand but a need on my part.

I decided to tell Jamie to go. We would talk soon but I needed to rest. The truth is, I wanted to be alone. Not really alone. I wanted to think about Tosh. She had been on my mind a great deal. I have been having conversations with her for a while now. The reason I haven’t mentioned it, I thought you would think I was losing it.

Now I think it’s time for me to let Tosh back into my consciousness. She has been around, wanting me to give her my attention. Annie, you do realize who Tosh is? I know I haven’t really talked much about her but maybe I need to at least free myself to listen to her. At night, she comes to me when I am trying to go to sleep. I feel her lying next to me. It’s quite safe. She is a ghost. Not like she is going to harm me. We loved each other and were only just starting to feel our closeness. When we kissed, it was like magic. Time would slow and the sensation was deep and consuming. I don’t feel either of us ever wanted to stop kissing but life was there and calling us back to reality.

Tosh was involved with a murderous woman when she met me. As we grew closer, she broke off her relationship with her ex. That woman didn’t take it well. For now, that is all I want to say about that. I just want to think about Tosh as she is now, away from the nightmare that stole her from me. Now I just want to feel her lying next to me in silence. We talk sometimes. Tosh listens to me than gives me her response. I feel her energy touching me. It feels like a total infusion.

Maybe I need to escape this world and be with Tosh. She is the only one who wants to be with me. I need Tosh. I love Tosh and want to be with her.

I know what you’re going to say, “But Tosh is dead, how can you be with her, unless you are dead.”

That is one way, but we can be together without my having to die.

I don’t want to talk about this with you right now. I’ve said too much already. The demons are going to come now and fuck with my mind and body.

I’m going now. I have two people here who seem to like me. An older woman who tells great stories but has no idea, most of the time, who she is. Her name is Helen. The other person is much younger. She is a college student. The educational system has crushed her. She is lost. For some reason, she talks to me but no one else. I like her. I feel safe with these two woman. The young woman is an artist, painter. Her name is Lynne. I think Helen, Lynne and I could become good friends. I hope so.

Annie, you have to help me. I don’t feel like I am getting better in here. It feels like my world and mind are crumbling. My body hurts. The wounds are healing but slowly. There will be scars. What’s stored in my mind is “written in my scars.” They tell the world, someone tried to shred me in order to make me disappear. I reminded them of their inherent evil when they looked at me. She was trying to destroy me in order to keep from destroying herself. But she can’t stop the destruction. The evil will eat her alive.

Goodbye, Annie.

Madison

Ps. I may not ever return from this well of darkness, but I want you to know I remembered that we met one year ago as of 2nd October 2007. Today is the 7th of October 2008. Happy Anniversary. If it weren’t for you, I would seriously be gone now.

© Madison Taylor 2008

“I think writing really helps you heal yourself. I think if you write long enough, you will be a healthy person. That is, if you write what you need to write, as opposed to what will make money, or what will make fame.“ — Alice Walker

Somewhere In Time – Composer John Barry

surreal spirit painting

Surreal Spirit

“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: Chapters #56 — I’ve Had to Lock My Love Away

private writings to a psychoanalyst (c) Jk 2013

Private Writings: Chapter #56 – I’ve Had to Lock My Love Away

Written by Jennifer Kiley
Painting by NAME OF ARTIST
Introduction & Chapter #1
Published on March 19th 2013
Published Early Tuesday AM
Posted On Tuesday 8th April 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 & bliss
but most importantly
tell the best tale ever after upon a time

see you down the rabbit hole.

Private Writings: Chapter #56 — I’ve Had to Lock My Love Away

[Starting the Third Week Madison Is Being Held at the Redcliff Psychiatric Institute After a Failed Suicide Attempt...]

Tuesday 30th September 2008

Dear Annie,

I am keeping “A Writer’s Diary” just like my heroine Virginia Woolf. It sounded like a good way of keeping track of my entire short [sarcastic] stay at Redcliff [Psychiatric Institute]. In between, when I feel it, I will write something specifically addressed to you, Annie. I want you to know I miss you. My feelings are filled with an emotional and physical pain I can bearly stand. It hurts so much.

Why is love so painful?

Here is how I have set up my letters to you for the future while I am still incarcerated with people I am having such a difficult time relating to. With the exception of my psychiatrist Dr. Virginia McKinnon, and two patients I feel some closeness with in small amounts. I will tell you about them in small amounts.

“A Writer’s Diary”

Today, I could only feel Jamie being with me. No visitors until the end of this week. No contact until then. I haven’t spoken to or seen anyone. Not Scottie or Alison. No Jamie. And no Annie. I miss everyone. I miss my laptop. If I want to write, I have certain times during the day when I am allowed to have a pen and paper to use for writing. When the time is up, everything is confiscated until the next time. Dr. V [Virginia McKinnon] shows me my work when we meet in session. We talk about why my urge to die. It hasn’t stopped, my desire to end my life. But I have to find a way out of here. I thought of pretending I don’t want to die any longer. Thinking they will let me see Jamie. I am so pissed at her. I want to yell at her for saving me. WTF!!! Jamie. When someone wants to take their life, it belongs to them. I should be allowed to leave this world. Pain is too overwhelming. I can’t bear seeing the sordid images in my head. It’s too disturbing. Also, it’s absolutely ridiculous that committing suicide is against the law. What kind of charges are filed? Defendant is not able to be here. She is dead by her own hand. What kind of sentence does a judge pass down on someone who is dead due to taking their own life?

Where is Jamie? I need Jamie to hold me. No one here is warm like her. My animals. I miss their furriness snuggling next to my face, sharing my pillow. It is a Country Club here but it is sterile. No life. Maybe Jamie didn’t save me and I am in Hell.

If there is a Higher Power, which I sometimes believe, she wouldn’t punish people in the places artists have designed as that darkness filled with pure evil. Persons who kills themselves are not all bad. There is an argument for those mass killers who swallow a bullet before they can be captured and punished. Is death not a punishment? Depends on where it takes you. Did the Goddess create a place that fills a space outside of the Universe? Or are there parallel Universes and after Death we are transferred to one of the many.

Maybe it’s all a matter of what we wish or dream about as our fantasy of what Heaven or the Here After is in our Imagination.

Do I feel Nuts? Not at all. I just want to die. Wanting to die does not make one Nuts. Wanting to live in this Insane world seems at times to me a place that would make anyone develop Pure Madness.

Thoughts to think about as I sleep. More tomorrow.

Today a new patient at group today. She accused me of being a Prima Dona. My face with Jamie Stansfield, Academy Award Winning Actress, pissed her off. She accused me of thinking I was more cool than anyone else here. I lost track of reality long before she raged out on me. Am I in the film being made or am I making this film? At times it feels real but I don’t know which one. She has the look and sound of a homophobe. I told her Jamie loves me. Her language beats out mine for being outrageous. I don’t feel ashamed for being in love with women.

She accused me of being base. The lowest form of life. How could I, as a woman, touch another woman in a [crude remark from ID 666] way so blasphemous. That place was meant for a [man’s] prick*[*her word not mine]. To me a prick is a man who does not respect women. She obviously never heard of toys of the sexual kind. She, also, does not understand the way a woman in love with a woman in love with her really feels like. It is the sexiest, tenderest, lovingest, hottest, most intense feeling in the world.

She has no idea how madly obsessed I am by being pulled like a magnet to a woman’s intimate intensity and her Chloe scent. Many women attract my attention. Writing words of seduction to a woman who possesses my heart is like watching the faery like sleekness of a hummingbird drawn to their choice of honey sweet red. Watch them hover as they suck the sweet juices. It takes a great deal to satisfy their need. In work, the seduction is part of play, touch her with words, caressing words.

I am responsible for my own rape. Sylvia would never have gotten that close to me if I hadn’t been manipulated into getting Scottie to hire her all those years ago. If I’d never been seduced by her years ago, she would never have gotten into our lives. I think Scottie is starting to understand more. Being abused sexually and completely, fucks up your whole life. It can never be what you want it to be.

I just want to be loved. To be made love to without my becoming catatonic or cold inside. Making love starts out so beautifully. I want to love kissing. I have loved and kissed many women, but few knew how to touch my lips in the way I needed them to, in order that I would feel the depth and tenderness of their lips, also. All the kisses I felt have been from the kiss of women. Women who have driven me wild with the sensation of their lips on mine in a slow, sensual, passionate, lingering kiss. Don’t ever think about men in that way. Never have.

There is something I want to tell you, Annie, but first I just want you to know there is nothing to be jealous of in my relationship with my psychiatrist. I call her Dr. V or Virginia. She prefers it. She’s pretty young to be a psychiatrist or just looks young. Maybe she is a vampire. I notice, she usually sees me after dark or in an office with lights dimmed. She is exceptionally sharp. She told me I get attracted and attached to certain therapists and think I am in love with them, when really it is my unresolved feelings over my grandmother’s death and when my love Tosh was murdered. I have never gotten over their deaths.

I was too young when my grandmother died and needed her so much. And when Tosh died, I felt responsible. The crash was meant to happen to me. It was my car she died in. I should have been driving. She would still be alive. Some psychic told me she sacrificed herself for me. She was my angel. I was not supposed to die. She was there to guide me. Here I thought I was the one to be guiding her. Long story. Another time I think.

I think we’ve only just begun.

Before I end, Annie, I need to tell you some things about Jamie. She is not out in her public persona. Only her friends know and only one member of her family. That would be her younger brother, Wagner, the super-computer genius. Jamie takes him as her date to all her public functions. He supplies her and all her friends with any 1st edition new techno device he personally designs and turns into the next iPhone. Inside joke. Remember “Brief Sacrifice.” By the way, our film did grand. It has tripled the investments after overhead, stars, and crew, the rest goes to Infinite Imaginations INC. III. and to percentages.

I actually sounded logical there for a moment. What I need is some weed. I need to inhale some soothing power from the pipe Scottie hand-made for me. She is a genius in everything she touches. Except me, no one is that far advanced in genius.

Keep it mum about Jamie.

I love you, Annie. You are the one. The one Tosh keeps telling me “I need to open up to. You hold a secret. The secret is supposed to bring me happiness in tears and turn them into sorrow the day after the morrow.” I have no idea what this means. It is her message not mine.

No more Brief Sacrifice. Time traveling has to wait. Maybe I will write a short story for The New Yorker. As if they would publish a woman character who time travels trying to discover the hiding places of Nikola Tesla’s lost designs which would give infinite comfort to all on the planet. But the 1% would need to be thrown out into the sewers, with a few exceptions. The generous who are trying to make the world just and equal.

I need to send this to you. After that I will be visited by Scottie and Alison. It’s not far from home. Later Jamie is going to come out alone. We will finally be able to speak our minds and hearts. I haven’t seen any of them since that night I took all those pills. I couldn’t stand remembering. That night, Sylvia brought the evil, with her and let them in. Now they won’t go away. I will talk to V about this.

Love You Annie
Madison

© Madison Taylor 2008

winter mountain stream snow negative

Somewhere In Time – Composer John Barry

flaming gold petals

“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 Moments #56: Heart Locked Away

private moments in paintings & poetry
Private Moments #56: Heart Locked Away
Poem by Jennifer Kiley
Painting by Jk McCormack
Post Created 1st April 2014
Posted On Monday 7th April 2014
PRIVATE MOMENTS INSIDE PAINTINGS & POETRY

Private Writings: Chapter #56 — I’ve Had To Lock My Love Away

temptations to wonderland (c) Jkm 2014

Temptations to Wonderland (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

Heart Locked Away
Poem by Madison Taylor
30th September 2008

Heart locked away
In a dark hidden room
Few knew the entrance
Words protected its opening

Long ago ages upon a time
A tale of amazement was unfolding
Riches were stored away protected
Untouched wrongly unraveled through temptation

Possessing objects not your own
In sight of vision but securely protected
Without the owners permission
It is certain torture for the outrage

A definite sentence of death to follow
For the one who lusted perversely
Upon the head of the prisoner
Both shall die beheadings at dawn

Insane tales end badly

© 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 #52 — Waiting for the Fall

private writings to a psychoanalyst (c) Jk 2013

Private Writings: Chapter #52 – Waiting for the Fall

Written by Jennifer Kiley
Painting by Alexander Segregio
Introduction & Chapter #1
Published on March 19th 2013
Published Early Tuesday AM
Posted On Tuesday 11th 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 & bliss
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 #52 — Waiting for the Fall

Tuesday 2nd September 2008

Dear Annie,

We have a problem developing. My feelings for Jamie have been growing. Their level is rising to the top of becoming extremely intense. I would say it is love. But I don’t seem to have any idea what the fuck love feels like. I get a fix on it. It all changes up. The one I love throws denial at me. Negating everything I feel exists between us. Is she lying to me? What is real between Jamie and myself. I have been attracted to Jamie since the first time I met her. Her eyes locked mine with her look. That’s why everyone loves her on the screen.

You know what I’m talking about. Look at how your daughter Rainer goes completely shy around Jamie.

Why am I talking this way. Jamie is my heroine. She rescued me from Sylvia. It was so swashbuckling. Crashing through my study door. Getting the police on the phone. Taking down Sylvia with Patrick our cat. He was a fierce one the night Sylvia raped me. I am dealing with the reality. I may not remember it all but I know she brutalized me. After she drugged me with a paralyzing effect. Date rape drug they think. I knew what was happening but I was physically unable to stop her. She violated me worse than any man could. One thing she did, I hate to talk about it. But if I write about it to you, maybe I will be able to get it out. I will write it for you. But I don’t think I want to talk about it. At least not now or ever maybe.

What I want to tell you may drive me mad someday. She touched me all over my body, inside as well. When I feel fear, I lose control of my senses. The adrenaline is fired up shooting through my veins. My blood is pumping out of fright. She took advantage of me. My fear let me down. When she touched me, my skin responded to her touch. My stomach wanted to turn into Linda Blair and spit green soup at her. And a few spins around with my head to terrify her. Instead she kept touching all the points that trigger my sexual responses. Her touches teased the responses out of my body. Until finally she won. She turned my body around and made me completely respond by losing control of my physical reactions. She forced me to react fully to her touch. It is what a rapist can do to confuse the one being abused. It makes me feel as though my body wanted it. When I know my body wasn’t cooperating, it was being coerced and forced to have a natural release from the kind of stimulation that was happening. She stole my last connection to feeling any hope of regaining my ability to respond to the touch of a lover.

I  am mad with grief that once again an abuser took those feelings away from me. How my body feels is like a traitor to our self- preservation and sanity. My mind is going mad. That awful woman raped me and stole away the most intimate part of being physically turned on. It seems only rapists can find that inner part of me. The vulnerability of intimacy has been destroyed by force. Conquering my power and stealing my essence from me. I am a shell. Emptied by a brutality I thought was over. I felt I had finally succeeded in vanquishing my abusers from my life. My sense of safety has been smashed to pieces by sexual force. I will never be able to feel trust with anyone again.

The night of the rape, Jamie crashed in my door. She threw Sylvia off of me, while Patrick, our magnificent feline, jumped on her and sunk his claws in deep, front and back. He wasn’t going to let her go. She released a blood-curdling yell at the torture Patrick’s claws were making of her back. A certain satisfaction flooded over me when I realized the rape was physically over with Sylvia but the flashbacks and memories buried from my childhood abuse were coming through the barriers. Visually perfect clearance. My senses were feeling the walls that protected me, breaking down around me. I was hallucinating a slide show of what they did to me. The many abusers my father had lined up for me and the abuse the ‘shadow mother’ perpetrated on my body, mind, soul and overall spirit, joie de vive. I lost the battle in childhood and have been in therapy ever since. My therapist doesn’t think I ever will heal. I will just grow out from it but it will be in the foundation of my life, that holds me together. If there is rot won’t it eventually collapse? That’s what I feel it’s doing now deep inside me. Slowly destroying my self, my identity, my sanity, my dreams. I am disappearing in the maze of darkness. Trapped. No way out. Can’t see anything clearly except the past and the abuse.

Jamie came to me that night after her brave rescue. We lay down together on the floor of my study. She threw a throw over us. I was shaking. Jamie’s arms wrapped around me so gently. Her hand was stroking my hair. She whispered over and over, “It will be alright.” I knew she wanted to mean that but it wasn’t ever going to be alright. It never was alright. Being forced to have a sexual response when you find that repulsive is the worse thing that can happen when you are being sexually abused as a child or as an adult. This has happened twice to me now. Once when I was 10 and my father forced me to go off with his friend. That friend of his touched me against my will and his touches awakened a feeling inside of me I never felt before. What happened then happened with Sylvia. She forced me like my father’s friend did by touching me in a way that made it impossible to fight the way my body reacted. It haunted me then and now it is complete. The destruction of trusting my body and allowing anyone to ever touch in that way again.

It is driving me mad. I don’t trust anyone. Not even Jamie, though I may want to. I know she would never do anything to harm me. She wouldn’t force herself on me in any way. So why do I feel she has abandoned me whenever she goes away or when she is silent when you expect she will be there for you. Jamie is an exceptional woman and I love her. When we talked awhile back about love. She said it is possible to feel in love with someone special without it ever having to be sexual. To feel in love can be a powerfully emotional feeling that goes beyond a casual friendship. It is an intense spiritual bonding that relates on the level of pure love. The love in energizing. It feels spectacular. It can take you higher than any sexual love is capable of reaching.

I need this feeling of in love less the sexual element. Jamie understands. I’ve talked to her about my theory before now. It is why I trust her to comfort me. She would never put on me any inappropriate feelings that I cannot handle now, but then I never have been able to handle the sexual aspects of life, not love. I try to keep love away from sex. Keeping it pure. Real but without the Tantric side the bodies needs to  express with another person.  Working out rebellious sexual feelings one can do alone. It is the safest way to stop when you want to.

It use to be a desire of mine to have the perfect lover and to make love with everything flowing perfectly. It isn’t going to happen for me. The abusers, my parents, and siblings ruined it for me to be intimate with anyone. When I am close to anyone physically, I feel like a failure. My body takes control and shuts down. It will not open up again. The only way to have sex with me is to force yourself on me. And then you need to force me to do what you want.

It is driving me quite mad. All of this mess. I just want to die. I feel it more strongly every moment I have an opportunity to think. I try to stop myself from thinking. To stop my feelings. Screaming comes to mind. The worse thing is starting to happen, the confusion is beginning to take over my psyche. In this state, everything, everyone, everywhere feels  dangerous. Now this sense of danger surrounds me. My thoughts call out with words, ‘Please, just hold me Jamie. Where is Scottie. I need Scottie too. And Alison. I need her to be close now. I need to know no one else is in danger.’ My mind can’t think of anything but feeling threatened. There is no one I can trust. Those people touched us in places without our permission. I never wanted any of it. I hate sex with men. I hate sex with anyone. I hate being used for sex. Being forced to have sex. Having sex feel so destructive. It is an invasion of intimacy when it is not wanted and never wanted from those who force it on me.

What do you suppose it feels like when someone uses your body for their own pleasures, as if you didn’t exist except in the power they can overlord you with, knowing they can rape you anytime they want. Daytime. Nighttime. When you are asleep. Wherever you are. A molester can find you. They watch you. They know your schedule and your habits. Most of all they are uncanny at their ability to find you alone in a perfect place for them to force sex on you. Mostly, they just want to fuck you or fondle you. They take pictures of your body parts. You never feel safe. Threats are always made. Be quiet. Tell no one. Or die.

I needed to get this out. What I am feeling? Am I going mad from all of this turmoil? A darkness is coming. A depression like weighted pockets and walking into the sea to drown. Except I am afraid to drown, not to die. Let me die wiped clean of these memories of Hell and Evil. Before I die, I want to know what it feels like to be loved for who I am, not by someone who wants to kidnap my body for their own games and sadistic pleasures. There isn’t satisfaction in any of this, only nightmares.

I will send this off to you Annie so you know what is developing. Last point I will add. I am in danger from myself. It is close to hiding sharp objects and extra pills. But I won’t do that. Just in case I need to go away forever.

So sorry Annie that I feel this way. Even you won’t be able to bring me back from this mess inside my head. My body is ruined. I want to get rid of it so no else can touch it again without my permission. It is wrong to touch anyone who says no. No more wrong again touches.

Love You Annie. Please don’t ever leave me.
Madison

@-;—

© madison taylor 2008

tree sun moon swirl painitng

Artist Alexander Segregio

Somewhere In Time – Composer John Barry

Pink Flower by Tom Bradshaw 2013

Pink Flower by Tom Bradshaw 2013

“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 #51 — Do Not Disurb

private writings to a psychoanalyst (c) Jk 2013

Private Writings: Chapter #51 – Do Not Disturb

Written by Jennifer Kiley
Introduction & Chapter #1
Published on March 19th 2013
Published Early Tuesday AM
Posted On Tuesday 4th 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 & bliss
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 #51 — Do Not Disturb

Tuesday 26th August 2008

Dear Annie,

When I got home from our session today, Scottie told me she had some news for me. Some good news and some bad. I told her to tell me the good news first. It had to do with our film “Whispering Spirits.” It’s been in production for two months. Today there was an injury on the set. Our new star to be, Ronan Slater, was in an accident during an action scene.

Her car lost control. It flipped over several times. Upfront Scottie told me she would be alright, just not capable of doing any acting that involves movement. Out of commission for no less than four months. That is speak for an indefinite length of time. Broke her right leg and arm in several places. Has a concussion. Some lacerations I heard were quite bloody. It would have made me faint if I were there. Thank the Goddess, worst didn’t happen. She’s very much alive. Needs some plastic work on her face.

Believe me, her accident was actually the good news. You wouldn’t think so. But when you hear the bad news you will understand why. For me, it really is worse. I’m bracing myself to tell you. Let me take a hit first. Okay. Here is where the nightmares begins. Mark the time and date. Scottie hired Sylvia Kendell to replace Ronan. Never any input asked for. Reason? Sylvia was available. Isn’t she always. An immediate decision had to be made.

Scottie wants to throw an impromptu cast party in our home this Friday night, to welcome S. Kendell to “Whispering Spirits.” I can’t mind the decision. Sylvia will be perfect in the role. I can’t disagree with Scottie. Her arguments are sound. It’s a good business move if we want “Whispering Spirits” to be made now, if it’s to have any chance of being a success. I did like Ronan. If she recovers and still wants to act, I’ll write her a role to almost die for.

I’ll finish writing this letter later. After the cast party, I’ll send it off in an email. You will see it before our next session. You can start planning our method of attack for therapy.

The party started out as an intimate dinner party. They often do. It ended up with our huge home overflowing with everyone in Hollywood that night. I was sorry you couldn’t make it. Who cares about the APA Code. Frack them. I never demand you play therapist at our functions. Just like the idea you are in my home with your family and everyone is having a great time.

Jamie Stansfield showed up. I was delighted and freaked out seeing her. What happened between us the last time we were together, I still haven’t been able to explain. I could have sworn we made love. But she said nothing happened. What she remembered was flashing sparks and zooming lights flying all around them. Jamie feels it was the mushrooms she consumed. Blames it all on hallucinations.

The way she described in detail what happened, it reminds me of the exact same way I envisioned my experience with Scottie in Paris. When we were on the bridge over the Seine. The lights were so romantic. We had just finished a meal of langoustine. It’s similar to lobster but smaller. It was cooked in a creamy garlic and butter sauce. We had garlic bread and a simple salad of mushrooms, cucumber, celery and tomatoes. I don’t like lettuce in my salad. It loses its crunch. I forgot to mention, we consumed a bottle of Champagne.

Before we left the restaurant, we went off to the powder room to freshen up. We took a few hits off a joint of fine marijuana laced with sprinklings of hash. It gave the room a golden glow. I felt lighter than air. When Scottie took my hand in hers, an electric charge shot up my air, straight into my skull. What a strange feeling. Now I know something happened. The same electric charge to my skull felt the same with Jamie. There is something specific about the charges.

On the way out, Scottie generously tipped the attendant. She smiled at us and exclaimed in a very pleased voice, “Merci, mademoiselles. Tres généreux. Puissiez-vous être visité par les féerie. Ils vous donneront une soirée divine et mystique.”

saint-christopher-medal blk bg

Saint Christopher
Saint of Travelers

She handed us each a charm. Mine was St. Christopher. In college, he made me feel safe. My hero rescued me many times. The miracle rescues were mounting up. In cat lives, I was pushing my destiny to quickly.

After we were out of the restaurant, I asked Scottie what charm did she receive from the attendant. She opened her palm to reveal her charm. I stared at it. The charm was shocking to me, yet strikingly beautiful. The image of Isis, the Winged Egyptian Goddess of Wisdom. I recognized Isis immediately. Why? She holds great significance for me. When I understand what that means, I will explain it to you first. Right now, I am going to put that part out of my mind.

winged egyptian goddess isis blk bg

Isis – Winged Egyptian
Mother Goddess of Wisdom

Scottie and I decided to take a walk. The restaurant was near the Seine. We walked for a short while until we were on a bridge that crossed over the river Seine. It was there we transcended time and space. We were surrounded by the energy I felt the other night with Jamie. Why would they both tell me, when I felt that I made love to them, that nothing happened. The experience was too grand to be an hallucination. How could this happen, first of all? And the fact that it did happen, supposedly, why the same hallucination with two different women? It doesn’t make any sense.

Someone is messing with the spirit forces that surround me. I may sound crazy but I have been sensing a darkness coming. It is getting closer. What it is or who it is, I have no idea yet. I do know that Sylvia was here tonight. My whole body went into a complete chill when I saw Sylvia approaching Scottie and me. We were near the glass wall near the back of our open room, for just such occasions. The expansive window overlooked our forest of trees, the gardens, wild and tame, filled with our grand selection of flowers and plants.

Back to the dinner party that turned into the event of the season. A way to end summer and usher in the Fall Film Releases for Oscar noms.

I was happy, even with all the insane changes. Until that night, later after the party, I felt an intensely heavy depression start pulling me into the darkness. As the control from the depression pushed down on my brain, Sylvia found me alone in my study. Why her?

She encouraged me to try a new type of MJ. It was a new hybrid strain called Nighttime Black. It was an Indica. She, also, had a Sativa strain with her. It had a strange name. Let me think. I remember. Bella Twilight. We smoked the Nighttime Black. After two hits, I cut myself off. My body was floating upward from the couch. But my body was still on the couch. We were completely disconnected. Seriously, I felt paralyzed. That’s when everything started going badly. What Sylvia did next was so wrong in so many illegal ways.

Sylvia locked my study door. She closed all the curtains. When she completed her task, she sat down as close to my still body on the settee. She began removing my cloths until I was naked. I felt angry but more frightened. My body was unable to do a thing to stop her. Even my voice was shut off.

The precise word to describe what Sylvia did to me is Rape. Her vulture hands pulled at my flesh inside and out. She forced herself on me. Her lips touched mine. She felt cold to me. My savior was too leave. Floating around the room, I watched emotionless. My depression was even dampened. All I felt emotionally was alienated. Where were my heroines? Scottie, Jamie, Alison, find me. Rescue me. Please hear me. I need you now in my study.

No one broke the door down. I was beginning to feel I was insane. This could not possibly be happening to me, now. I was lost in my thoughts, wishing for help, when Jamie came crashing through my study door. Carter McLeod to my rescue and her cat James. It was actually Patrick. He jumped on Sylvia’s back. Yowling and growling, with claws deeply entrenched in Sylvia’s back the whole time.

The police were called. They arrested Sylvia. Jamie held me until the police arrived. Scottie showed up a few minutes after she heard the sirens outside approaching our home. When she saw Jamie’s arms around me, she questioned us on what was going on. Scottie sat on the other side of me. Both Jamie and Scottie held me together.

I slipped out of bed to finish this letter to you. Jamie is staying with us tonight. Our bed is full with Alison on one side of Scottie and myself on the other side. Behind me is Jamie. Do you know how warm it is to be held by both my partner and the woman I am most attracted to in the whole world outside of Scottie? It was pure bliss, even though I know in the morning I have to give the police my full statement. I was too in shock to talk to them tonight. Our lawyer, Michael explained it was her Psychoanalyst orders that she rest and not speak until she was ready. I was never going to be ready.

The cops left. We all snuggled in bed together. I can’t bear the thought of having to recall what the evil bitch did to me. It’s too much to bear. My depression has returned and feeling more powerful against me. My thoughts are on killing myself. What she did was as awful as my abuse when I was a kid. Maybe worse, it was a woman. Being abused by a female is more unexpected, so it feels more brutal. It reminds me of ‘the shadow mother’ and her treatment.

I have to stop. I will write again if I need to. Otherwise, we can talk more in our next session. I am closing this letter here. It has all been too much. If I’m in any danger of doing anything, I will call you. I promise.

That’s all I can handle 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

Winding Spirits by Madison Taylor (c) jKm 2008

Whispering Spirits by Madison Taylor (c) jKm 2008

Somewhere In Time – Composer John Barry

painting of a flower light colour lilac

“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

Best Film Ever Made #10: The Ruling Class

the ruling class poster

Best Film Ever Made #10: The Ruling Class
Film Review by Jennifer Kiley
Post Created by Jk the secret keeper
Illustrated by j. kiley
Post Created On Tuesday 29th October 2013
Posted on Friday 1st November 2013
FILM FRIDAY

5 stars

dedicated to roger ebert film friday

ruling class  peter as christ & jack inherit from him after he does homo-erotic hanging & dies accidentally

The Ruling Class [1972]
Film Review by Jennifer Kiley

The Ruling Class [1972]. Peter O’Toole gives a tour de force performance, one of his finest, as the mentally unbalanced heir to a British noble family, in this black comedy. There is a surprise that makes all in the film go sideways. It takes place about 2/3rds of the way through the film. Startlingly controversial at the time it was originally shown, this cult classic – among the best of the cult classics – is still worth watching, if for Peter O’Toole’s performance alone.

RULING-CLASS peter as christ

It is a pleasure filled with delight for Peter O’Toole fans. I live with one of those fans. I do enjoy Mr. O’Toole myself, that is why I felt this film, overlooked too often, should be among the best of the top 10 films. Peter O’Toole is one of the finest actors of all time. Most who follow Peter O’Toole would say “Lawrence of Arabia” is top of the list of his films, but I put “The Ruling Class” there for its unusual twists & turns, the bizarre & crazy originality of the screenplay & for the grand performance of O’Toole himself & also, that of the entire cast.

Peter O’Toole’s phenomenal performance, received a Best Actor Oscar nomination, one of the eight such nominations in his career, giving him the dubious distinction of being the most-nominated actor never to win that award.

The Ruling Class — Peter O’Toole as God of Love

the-ruling-class peter resting on the cross as christ while dressed white suit

In The Ruling Class, Peter O’Toole plays Jack Gurney, the 14th Earl of Gurney, a paranoid schizophrenic who takes over the title and estate after his father, the 13th Earl, dies. How he dies is just the beginning of the unusualness of the story. Jack, has been living for years in an insane asylum. This does not prevent him from inheriting the estate. The only problem is he believes himself to be JC [Jesus Christ], Eric, Burt, Coda, the First Immovable Mover – God, specifically the God of Love.

peter o'toole as christ

Criterion Trailer — The Ruling Class

His family is outraged by the slight & the fact that Jack appears as JC. They tolerate him while they plan how to regain control of the estate. One of their plans is to get him married off. He will produce an heir, then they would have him locked up again in the booby-hatch, act as the baby’s guardians/trustees. Of course, we all know these plans never come off the way the planners wish. In this case, when the screw ups happen. Jack’s treatments lead to an unexpected change in his mental delusions.

peter as christ dancing around inside butler in the rear who is always tipsy

The Ruling Class, while a film with a critical social edge, has moments of magical, yet almost realistic qualities. Peter O’Toole plays it so real, his portrayal drifts off into something dreamlike. Fantasy mixes with a reality that becomes spooky, filtering through the comedic side into a darkness, which for me, makes one want to root for the return of the gentler, God-filled schizophrenic.

otoole-ruling-class as christ closeup aura surrounds his head

1972 Ruling Class Halo

The upper-class people around him respond to Jack Gurney and his delusions. When he believes himself to be the God of Love, and wants to draw people in with loving kindness, he is beyond being acceptable. But when the nasty, psychopathic side of his personality is awakened, they have no problem embracing his monstrous transformation & the pure evil at its core..

Excerpts from The Ruling Class

ruling class peter as christ on the grounds w woman in white

The butler, Tucker, played by Arthur Lowe, is the high point of the film’s social commentary. A secret anarchist, whose closet door is thrown wide open with a bit of drink in him and the inheritance of a small fortune. It gives him the opportunity to express his true feelings & stick it to his so-called bosses and the supposed class above his own. It’s a marvelously amusing performance, & one needs to mention also the always delightfully funny & always wonderful Alastair Sim [the best Scrooge ever] as the priest in the family.

ruling class peter as christ getting married in front of alastair sims as bishop

The screenplay has delectable dialogue, a great deal of the delicious texture coming from the way Peter O’Toole delivers it. When someone inquires of the Jack Gurney as JC, why he believes he is God, he unabashedly responds, “Simple. When I pray to Him, I find I am talking to myself.” It is all great fun in the first half of the film. Everything seems so comical & sacrilegiously humorous. O’Toole is a smash in the first half. He carries the comedy of being JC & one cannot help but be carried along with him.

peter o'toole as christ

In the second half, however, he slips over to the dark side, a complete antithesis to the God of Love. If I continue, I will most assuredly give away too much & the surprises ahead will be spoiled. Let me just say that there is a deviant kind of pleasure in Peter O’Toole’s ability to portray the sociopathic darkness in the changed Jack Gurney.

peter-otoole-the-ruling-class-1972

For me the second half, after the transformation when Jack becomes so convincingly dark, the film itself becomes a bit too disturbing. Is there pleasure offered in this portion of the film? Maybe the pleasures of art, in a strange manifestation, but the emotional nature of the change, the feelings that surface in the viewer & the character of Jack at the end is definitely frightening..

Peter-OToole-as-Jack-Gurney-in-The-Ruling-Class

One may come away from The Ruling Class with a sense of being washed over with pleasure from the first half and painful upheaval from the second half. It is a bit disturbing,, but I suppose it depends on a matter of sensibility and perspective. There is pleasure in watching Peter O’Toole, but it is very difficult to distance one’s self from the darkness of the second half. So be aware of the dichotomy, Peter O’Toole, I will stress, is excellent in The Ruling Class and gives a magnificent performance as the two completely different parts of the one person.

the-ruling-class2 as jack the ripper

Peter O’Toole [scariest moment in the film] The Ruling Class

the_ruling_class_cover front & back of dvd package writing on back

On Being Just Crazy Enough

tell me a story
On Being Just Crazy Enough
TED Talk: Joshua Walters
Strange Answers To the Psychopath Test
TED Talk: Jon Ronson
Notations by Jennifer Kiley
Created Sunday 11th August 2013
Posted Thursday 29th August 2013
TELL ME A STORY

Comedian Joshua Walters, who’s bipolar, walks the line between mental illness and mental “skillness.” In this funny, thought-provoking talk, he asks: What’s the right balance between medicating craziness away and riding the manic edge of creativity and drive?

Joshua Walters: On Being Just Crazy Enough

Is there a definitive line that divides crazy from sane? With a hair-raising delivery, Jon Ronson, author of The Psychopath Test, illuminates the gray areas between the two. (With live-mixed sound by Julian Treasure and animation by Evan Grant.)

Jon Ronson: Strange Answers To the Psychopath Test

Private Writings: Chapter #20 — No Sympathy For the Devil

private writings to a psychoanalyst (c) Jk 2013
Private Writings: Chapter #20 — No Sympathy For the Devil
Written by Jennifer Kiley
Illustrated by j. kiley
Post Created 2nd August 2013
Introduction & Chapter #1 Published 19th March 2013
Published Early Tuesday AM
Posted 6th August 2013
WARNING: ADULT LANGUAGE AND CONTENT.
NOT SUITABLE FOR CHILDREN.

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

Private Writings: Chapter #20 — No Sympathy For the Devil

“You cursed brat! Look what you’ve done! I’m melting! melting! Oh, what a world! What a world! Who would have thought a good little girl like you could destroy my beautiful wickedness? Oooooh, look out! I’m going! Oooooh! Ooooooh!” — Wicked Witch of the West

I’m Melting! – The Wizard of Oz — Movie CLIP (1939) HD

Tuesday 5th February 2008

Annie,

I can’t believe what you announced at group today. It’s a shock beyond anything expected. What the hell happened? How could one of the members of group just die. No one has any answers. Dr. George was way too silent. His strange today was more than weird. It was eery. Remember what I told you about my last session with him. A week ago, he accused me of spreading a rumour. He told me it wasn’t true and accused me of making it up to get him in trouble. First, I never spread any rumour. Secondly, I had no idea what he was talking about. He kept saying it wasn’t true. What wasn’t true?

What I can remember is, he said, I told people, what people, he was having an affair with one of his clients. I’m not even going to theorize on this one. Now a client is dead. Someone I wasn’t really friends with either. In fact, she was a major character in the destruction of my relationship with Dr. George. He was always feeling a strong need to defend her against anything I had to say about her. I will be honest with you. She was a racist, homophobic, classist, poor excuse for a human being. I didn’t like her and she could have stabbed me to death and stepped over my body without any problem.

Now she is dead. What am I suppose to feel? Sorry, I didn’t kiss her ass. Sorry, she tore me apart any chance she had an opening in group. Let me be plain with you. She was jealous of me. I think she hated it, my being a lesbian. She hated I had a partner who loved me and cared about me. And I loved Scottie just as much. She had a husband who cheated on her or just was too damn lazy to show her any romance. He took her for granted. You heard her complaints about him. Maybe he just got tired of living with her and took the easiest and fastest way out. Murder.

I know I am sounding crass but no love or tears shall I shed for her. That may make me sound heartless but it is how I feel. It, also, doesn’t make me feel so fuzzy and warm knowing each one of us are going to have to talk to the police detectives. Not something I want to do in person. A good British detective mystery is my cup of tea but a brash and possible homicide in the old USA is not thrilling at all.

It doesn’t appear anyone knows what happened. I do feel sorry for her children. Don’t know them but they must be hurting. Trying to draw on some empathy and sympathy for her friends in the group. And Dr. George, I am beginning to get a bad feeling about him. He is going down. Meltdown, that is. Mentally, I think he has been losing it slowly for months now. This is just going to make him completely lose it. His pet is dead. What will he do now? I didn’t see him today in session. His receptionist called and cancelled our session but still kept my appointment set for next week.

Changing subject now. Angie’s death is creeping me out. Death is scary enough but having sat in the same room for many years doing therapy and a group member, like or not like, dies suddenly, no cause of death released as of yet, is just too much to take in. I need to fantasize.

How about just a touch on Brief Sacrifice? Where we left off in the screenplay, which is included in the film, Jame’s a Savannah cat belonging to Carter McLeod, author extraordinaire, has stumbled on the beginning of the solution to a riddle with a mystery attached. No one knew how to solve the code yet. Jasper, Jax and James, all three of Carter’s Savannah cats were honing in on breaking part of the solution. The first three letters of the code were S.I.T. It meant something. The initial stood for something which Carter felt would help unravel the rest of the codes letters and numbers.

“Time to get back to this.” Carter told her boys. “James, do you feel any vibes coming from the jumbled numbers or the other letters?”

James placed his right paw on what appeared to be a number this time. Carter took firm hold of his paw and lifted it. Underneath was the number 62. “What does number 62 mean? What does S.I.T. and 62 have in common?”

“James are you getting anything else? Maybe a word or name. Anything at all that makes sense.”

James reached out his right paw and places it over two different letters, the letter ‘R’ and the letter ‘M.’ When he seemed finished he crawled into his mum’s lap waiting for his reward. Carter ran her right hand from the top of James head and slowly slid her hand down the length of his body and at the end encircled his tail, finishing her petting by sliding her closed hand all the way up to the tip of his tail and then released. James purr was a contented and satisfying sound. He actually appeared to be smiling.

“Now, let us see what we have. The number 62. The letters S.I.T. and the letters R.M. What they mean, I have no idea. Maybe we should try to google them together online and see if the internet comes up with something.”

Carter opened up her laptop. Once loaded up, she opened her browser. Clicked Google on her Toolbar. The page was open to search. Carter typed in all the clues so far and waited while Google responded.

“Well, that can’t be right. Route 62 or Rotten Tomatoes review of I Heart Huckabees. That cannot possibly be right. Maybe if I enter each one separately. That’s how you gave them to us, James. Let’s give it another try.”

Once again Carter entered the first clue, but this time asked it a question about the letters. Are they initials for the title of a book or of a famous person? The S.I.T stands for the title of the book Somewhere In Time and the initials R.M. are the author’s name, Richard Matheson. A short synopsis, she reads aloud to her boys.

Somewhere in Time is the unforgettable story of a love that transcends the boundaries of time. Richard Collier, a man of the modern era, becomes obsessed with a woman of another time, a celebrated actress at the turn of the century. His fascination with Elise McKenna proves strong enough to physically transport him back to 1896, where he meets and woos the woman of his dreams. But for how long can their passion resist the relentless tide of history? Somewhere in Time inspired a 1980 film starring Christopher Reeve and Jane Seymour that has become a genuine cult classic.”

“I know that movie. I love that movie. It is so romantic. I’ve seen it so many times. Why didn’t the letters click in my brain right away. James, I think you are onto something here. First thing, we need to do is get a copy of Somewhere In Time. I would wager the number 62 is a page number. Let me read a bit more.”

Carter looks down the page and finds some customer reviews of the book. She looks to see if maybe she might find something helpful. “Wow! What is this about. Here is a passage from the book I don’t remember them mentioning in the film.”

“Listen, guys, let me read this to you, ‘My name is Richard Collier. I’m thirty-six years old, a television writer by profession. I’m six foot two and weigh one hundred and eighty-seven pounds.’ I’ll move ahead to the ending line that makes me feel this is rather an important point. ‘I moved to Los Angeles in 1960. My brother moved to L.A. in 1965 and I moved into the guest house behind his house the same year. I left there this morning because I’m going to die in four to six months and thought I’d write a book about it while I traveled.’ The book is about time travel. The character telling the story is going to die. Need to think, but I don’t want to jump ahead until I find out what is written on page 62. If that is what 62 means.”

James starts to purr louder and rubbing his face on his mum’s hands. “Are you telling me James, I’m thinking in the right direction?” Purring and rubbing is getting more intense from James. Carter continues to read as she continues to pet James. Jasper and Jax decide they want in on some of the affection. They both join James in their mum’s lap, as much as they are able to fit into it and along side of it. As close as they all can get, they are singing their purrs in unison. They feel there mum’s happiness through their mum’ body.

“Here is something else, I’ll try to break it down for you three adorable cuties. According to this review by a reader of the book, which repeats some of what I read before. ‘Richard Collier is a 36-year old writer with a terminal brain tumor who falls in love with the beautiful actress, Elise McKenna. But there’s one big problem. She’s dead. She lived many years ago in another time. But that doesn’t stop Richard who figures out a way to travel back in time and win her heart.’ Travel back in time seems the relevant statement. Somewhere in Time is about time travel and romance. He discovers a photograph in a visitors room in the hotel of the actress Elise McKenna and becomes obsessed with her.”

Carter hugs each of her boys with a great big snuggle. She is smiling as her mind is traveling in all directions at once. The mystery, what if it has something to do with time travel. Is that too far fetched? “Guys, I think that is enough for today. How about some dinner? I will try to find us a copy of the book Somewhere In Time. Until we get that we can still work on the rest of the letters and numbers in the code. But I think we are way ahead on figuring this out. At least, I think and hope we are. It’s possible we are being misled. We will see. I’m not sure what it means, any of this, but sure is damned exciting. Time travel. WOW!”

Well, what a day for writing. A death, which is shocking, even if no love is lost, a life is over. In itself that is enough. But I must say my way of escaping the tragic is to write and create. Having Carter McLeod figure out a possible direction the film ‘Brief Sacrifice’ might be heading, that is satisfying and important to me. Of course, I knew it before telling you but it is fun giving you sneak peaks is fun. It, also, takes my mind off of what really happened to that person in our therapy group. It is really creepy. Not something I want to think about while Scottie is away.

I did talk to her, Scottie, that is. She is going to be home in three days. Finishing up re-filming a scene that didn’t come out right in any of the takes. So, Scottie has been spending time with an actor, female, brings out my jealousy. Scottie’s not about to get involved, but if you knew this woman, you would understand my concern. She’s shattered many relationships that appeared solid on the outside. This bitch doesn’t care whose life she wrecks. Mine, I don’t want her near.

Enough for now. I hope we will be able to schedule our first private session together really soon. It feels like I am going to need you. He missed our session this week. Next week, I intend to have it out with Dr. George. I am going to confront him. Hold nothing back. I promise you. He will receive my wrath for all his indiscretions and fucking with my head. Trying to make me feel insane, delusional, unable to see or understand what I am feeling. He is going down. I will need you to put me back together again after I fall off the wall down into my darkest hole. My prediction is I am heading down. Mania high is coming to a close with depression rising. A funny irony considering all the circumstances surrounding me.

We need to talk. Soon. Until next time.

Fondly & Needing You,
Madison

Sets & Animals for Film: Brief Sacrifice with Lead Character CARTER MCLEOD. [Portrayed by BAFTA Nominated Actor NATALIE STEPHENS] Savannah Cats are Carter’s. Screenplay: MADISON TAYLOR. Director: SCOTTIE ANDREWS

brief sacrifice library living room fireplace  970x546

film ‘Brief Sacrifice’ library living room fireplace in mansion where Carter McLeod lives with her three Savannah cats, Jasper, Jax and James.

James-a neutered male Savannah Cat lounging on sofa  645x499

film ‘Brief Sacrifice’ James is one of three neutered male Savannah Cats, Carter McLeod has as her companions. He is enjoying a good lounge on his favorite sofa.

Soon Annie will get to read Madison’s Letters. Some at a time. All will be revealed in time.

Somewhere In Time – John Barry

rain in garden gif

Morning Disappears
Written by Madison Taylor
February 10th 2008

Venture in the story
Continuing on without breakage
Could the story continue on
No broken chain
No link to spare
To continue from here
Until despair wears down into nothing
Expanding energy
Nothing is there
Left to grasp

Blend together
Join the lines
Belong together
Flowing wave’s crashing
Shore pulling back again
Once more in repetition
An answer to the moon’s direction
The sea governed by the moon cycles
Stars are all one
All is one with them

Now answer
Consciousness’ stream
Finding the door freeing the words
Letting go
Follow a path long ago set
Not made but entered
Trusting it is a way
To be for now
To hunt the seas of old
Begin today
Starting again
Try not to break the bond
It connects
The next strand

With no holes to stop the flow
No one falling between the cracks
The earth opens up her crust
Sucks us all inside
Boils the remains
There will be hell

Now longing for the sea
Under the waves
Covering over us
Not swimming to survive another breath
Stars photograph their memories
Imagery from shining creatures
From the darkest of deeps
No eyes have seen

Humans contain in their visions
Salty kisses on eyelashes
Wiping away the blurriness of tears
Convey feelings following close
Songs lamenting
Repeating the vanishing
Disappearing tricks of death

Beating heads
Bashing the brains inside
With senses to understand
There is no understanding
Just an illusion guided
By a magician with mirrors
Reflecting nothing seen or lost
Not revealed

Without meaning
Truly nothing exists
Beyond a pin prick in the flesh
Pulled from off our bones
When they melt into the soil
Water washes away the nutrients
Back to the sea
Where it is spoiled
By greed of oil breakers
They heat our flesh
To burn in hell
Just to stay warm
One long moment

Perishing into dust
Winds carry away
To farthest reaches
The unknown universe
Time repeats
Continues on with ideas
Crying salty tears
Proving feelings
Are happening

Experience life
Time to borrow
Quickly it’s taken away
Shortness vanishes
Leaving behind
Urges to scream

Lands far away
Recognize they are not alone
Echo returns
Neither are we
We must hurry
Nothing lasts long enough
Recording its real existence
It is stolen away again
Again and again

The teacher stops
Repeating souls in mannequin form
Until the end of repeats
It is overdone
Finished
We are no more
Does anyone want the choice
Completely coming to a close
Never to be again
Thoughts of feeling
No more pain
The choice is life
To feel
Or death
To be numb
Forever more
Life would be
The choice

© madison taylor 2008

awe-some green 1Awesome Waves — Jk McCormack (c) jKm 2013

The Rolling Stones – Sympathy For The Devil (Live) – OFFICIAL

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

english garden off the back marble patio  972x732

English garden off the back marble patio

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 at 3 mos is a curious fellow, always checking the unusual out 1093x479

Patrick at 3 mos is a curious fellow, always checking the unusual out

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

Patrick is our Bengal cat in tree. It is protected area. Patrick cannot leave property from there. He loves Scottie. They are buddies.

Awesome lighted treehouse on the estate of chateau de rocher  642x432

Awesome lighted tree-house on the estate of Chateau de Rocher. A place of escape for Madison. She liked to run away when she was a kid. Climbing trees were her favorite places to hide. Scottie had this built for Madison as their 10th Anniversary present.

play is not just play meryl streep

Sometimes You Just Feel Invisible

a divider for post no. 5 love fav new one thinner

Sometimes You Just Feel Invisible
Written by Jennifer Kiley
Illustrations of Family Companion Animals
Photographs by Shawn MacKenzie
Post Created Wednesday 17th July 2013
Posted On Saturday 20th July 2013
X-Treme Haiku Saturday

Schroeder-the Jekyll & Hyde of Cats-kisses & snuggles switching instantaneously to bites & growls. And then there's Saki-our Amazon Parrot-my protector-she bites me when she thinks I am in danger. OUCH!!! One of her satisfactions is when she imitates Snoopy on his Sopwith Camel dive-bombing The Red Baron-in this instance replace TRB with Shawn-cannot get near me when Saki is sitting on my shoulder or near me in anyway. A true love/hate relationship with Shawn who gives her peanut treats whenever Saki asks. Now look at the love between S & S. It is a labour of love. In this photograph, Saki has only just started to fly over to us. Her life before us was trauma filled & neglect. Loved Shawn first but switched over to me. Now we are symbiotic & copacetic & share everything-Food & Love & Snuggles & I get a Heroic Protector who sleeps/sits on me when I write or doing anything at all. A Love Note for My Two Favorite Cuddlers.  1280x960

Schroeder-the Jekyll & Hyde of Cats-kisses & snuggles switching instantaneously to bites & growls. And then there’s Saki-our Amazon Parrot-my protector-she bites me when she thinks I am in danger. OUCH!!! One of her satisfactions is when she imitates Snoopy on his Sopwith Camel dive-bombing The Red Baron-in this instance replace TRB with Shawn-cannot get near me when Saki is sitting on my shoulder or near me in anyway. A true love/hate relationship with Shawn-who gives her peanut treats whenever Saki asks. Now look at the love between S & S. It is a labour of love. In this photograph-Saki has only just started to fly over to us. Her life before us was trauma filled & neglect. Loved Shawn first but switched over to me. Now we are symbiotic & copacetic. We share everything-Food-Love & Snuggles. I get an Heroic Protector who sleeps/eats/sits/snuggles/dances on me when I write or do anything. A Love Note for My Two Favorite Cuddlers. Kisses-Jk [One of Their Two Mums] ps. I am not Invisible to them. They need me as I need them & want me in their lives.

Sometimes You Just Feel Invisible
By Jennifer Kiley
17th July 2013

Sometimes you just feel
Invisible no sight no
Depth of shape no dimensions

Vision forward moves
Past forgotten locked in lost
Memories committed done

Frozen locked in time
Tripping tricking psyche deep
Confusion delusions thoughts

Trapping murderers
Vanquish shadows’ reflection
Innocence stolen destroyed

Perversion alive
Evil plans continue then
New images prevailing

Subconscious nightmares
Dreams retold when awakened
Bulldozers crashing breaking

Home protects safe place
Breathe panic out with symptoms
Expand light growing healing

© Jk 2013

Lakme-Delibes: Flower Duet — Joan Sutherland
Combining Art With Love
— Music Video — All Digital Art Created by Jennifer Kiley

a divider for post no. 5 love fav new one thinner