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: Chapter #49 – Got To Get You Into My Life

private writings to a psychoanalyst (c) Jk 2013

Private Writings: Chapter #49 – Got To Get You Into My Life

Written by Jennifer Kiley
Painting by Gustav Klimpt – The Embrace
Introduction & Chapter #1
Published on March 19th 2013
Published Early Tuesday AM
Posted On Tuesday 18th February 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 #49 – Got To Get You Into My Life

Tuesday 12th August 2008

Dear Annie,

Before I get into what I want to write specifically, I wanted to bring up Alison Porter. Scottie and my adopted daughter. Since she returned from Yale Acting School, she has been working at our studio, doing odd jobs. Watching Scottie and I work. Well, it hasn’t been officially announced. Alison is going to be in our next film. I wrote a screenplay for her. She will be starring opposite someone very special to me.

This is where the story begins and where the letter I want to write has started. Just before my grandmother died she encouraged me to find someone outside of the family with whom I could look up to for guidance. There wasn’t anybody. My grandmother knew of my aspirations for wanting to write film scripts and to be part of making films. There was an actress my grandmother felt was incredible and she wanted me to meet her. My grandmother knew her. She knew everyone or they knew her. One of the wealthiest women in the country. She became the person who took over emotionally when my grandmother died. I can’t explain my feelings. My grandmother was my world. When she died I went a bit mad. The actress my grandmother introduced me to, one day called me. We talked and talked about everything. Her call was to tell me she was here for me. Whenever I needed or wanted to contact her, she gave me her contact information for anywhere she might be reached. It didn’t take long to grow close. I believe I fell in love with her. The woman I loved as an actor and now I love as my closest friend ever. I never saw this friendship coming. Or that we would ever meet.

I think it made it easier when I met Scottie and after college we both got inside the film world. Scottie really liked my actor friend right away. She approves of her relationship with me and the feeling is mutual on the other end. She was married to a man, a director, who loved her madly and she loved him equally as strong. He encouraged our friendship. The feelings are very special between us. I loved her when I was growing up and still feel the same strength of feeling I’ve always felt toward her. When I see her photographs or hear her voice I become transfixed and excited. I belong to an online group who feel the same way.

When I was a kid she was a child star and part of my fantasy world. I thought I would meet her brother Chris some day and marry him. Then we’d be family. I was so absorbed with her. We talked on the phone when I was a teenager. This was before my grandmother introduced us over the phone. My grandmother told me great stories about her. First, she moved here from England when she was pretty little. She acted on the stage starting really young. She trained at The Actors Studio. Her first performance on Broadway was in Tennessee Williams’ The Glass Menagerie. I saw that play when I was 12. It was confusing to me at the time. I felt like the girl in the play. Everything I owned was broken including myself.

Let’s be less serious. One day, I called the studio where she was working, she was gone for the day. I told them it was important that I reach her and that I was a friend of her therapist, would they please give me her number. The person gave it to me without question. Of course, I knew her therapist, my grandmother told me they saw the same Psychoanalyst, so I used the name. I’m sure it’s why the person at the studio felt so free in giving me her number. Anyway I called her. I had witnesses. Her assistant answered the phone. I got up the courage and asked to speak to her.

She said, “Just a moment please.

Shortly, she came to the phone. She would have been about 18 yrs old then. I was only 3 years younger. We chatted for what seemed like a long time. She was wonderful. We both enjoyed the conversation. Before we said goodbye, I told her about my grandmother and asked if we could talk again some time. I knew it was a huge risk, an imposition but she so enjoyed our talk, and agreed. We exchanged our information. I had her number, so she wanted mine and my mailing address too. She gave me hers, also. Then we hung up our phones.

I proceeded to faint. It was one of the highest moments of my life. Everyone who knew me knew how I felt about her. They all thought I was mental and weird. I didn’t care. My grandmother was right about her. I loved them both. Her movies were seen multiple times by me. When I say multiple I mean over 20 times while in the theatres and more times when they hit DVD. She has been in Oscar winning films for Best Film and she has won Best Actress once and nominated several times. We have most of her movies in our collection except the ones that are not available.

After my grandmother died, I became lost, a touch mad. She called one day shortly after the funeral. What she said to me has had such a profound effect on my life since that day. We have kept up our friendship ever since. We chat everyday now. I leave messages for her and next day there would be an answer back. And on our cells, we both love to text, so we do that all of the time. It drives Scottie nuts.

It is great to have a friend I feel I can trust with telling her anything. I never told you her name. I will some day. For now let us refer to her as Lady Chablis. I love her so much that I want her in my life forever.

She disappeared a few years ago. Just for awhile. Her incredible husband died. She went to France to heal but will never forget him. I received a letter from her in today’s mail. She is on her way back to the states and she is suppose to arrive today in L.A. I texted her right away. She got back to me and we made plans to meet. Later today. We have never met in person. It’s not that unusual for me. I live online or at the studio. I will write the rest of this letter after I get back from spending time with her. I am so excited and enormously overwhelmed. It just takes my breath away. What will we talk about? I know don’t be silly.

Later. Got to get ready. You will hear all about it when I return.

How wild was that. I am in love with her. When we hugged for the first time, I got lost in her arms. It didn’t feel like she wanted to let go either. We talked like we had been together in person for years. Everything between us was natural. Lady Chablis is my best friend. She really is my best friend. Scottie will understand if I have something special with Lady Chablis. Scottie knows I love her beyond time. Lady Chablis is someone so special only my grandmother ever brought these feelings out in me. Now I feel them for L.C. … She is forever just like my grandmother. It made for the most perfect day ever.

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

Gustav Klimt The Embrace

Gustav Klimt The Embrace

Somewhere In Time – Composer John Barry

Orchid_flower 5 blue dk blue 4 lady blue

Orchid Blue

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

Medical Marijuana MMJ

Private Writings: Chapter #37 — Raindrops Falling from My Eyes

private writings to a psychoanalyst (c) Jk 2013

Private Writings: Chapter #37 — Raindrops Falling from My Eyes
Written by Jennifer Kiley
Illustrated by j. kiley
Introduction & Chapter #1
Published on March 19th 2013
Published Early Tuesday AM
Posted 3rd 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 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

paris amazing lightning striking eiffel towerParis – Amazing Lightning Striking Eiffel Tower

paris view from notre dame at night eiffel towerParis – View from Notre Dame at Night of Eiffel Tower

paris Fontaine des mers reflection Place de la ConcordeParis Fontaine des mers Reflection Place de la Concorde

Private Writings: Chapter #37 — Raindrops Falling from My Eyes

Tuesday 27th May 2008

Dear Annie,

It was a warm Spring night in Paris. A slight mist in the air, weaving through a light rain, was touching the naked flesh our clothes hadn’t covered. We walked over the golden, glistening bridge, lit by the antique lamp posts, which crossed over the Seine. Lovers & romance come to life out of dreams & faery tales on this particular kind of night. The setting was that of pure perfection.

Scottie held my hand so gently in hers, as our arms touched while we walked. We weren’t alone on the bridge or in that night, but everyone else had escaped into their own fantasies, playing out in their own dreams.

My dream was to be with Scottie. Close. Moments alone. Celebrating our last night in Paris, the city created for decadence but, also, for love, true love. I love her. I confess. In the first moments, looking through my eyes into hers, my soul recognized her. She was the person for whom I had been waiting.

Who came before, were lessons of life. Crushing blows. Smashing hearts. Painful endurance. Touches of love. All passing through time, heading in different directions & for a few moments, they crossed into my time & stayed a short while. Just as suddenly as they were before me, oh, so quickly, they disappeared. Their time pulled away & vanished from mine.

A few people do stay. They are meant to be part of our travels. Hold them dear & let the rest be on their way. We all have things to do & lives to lead.

I want to separate those few people & shine the light on only one tonight. The lover of my life. My guardian angel on Earth, we protect one another. Yes, we have those we are close to, our special friends, they are precious to us. But tonight, I want to write about Scottie. My life comes into focus with her in my life. The crazy world in which we are surrounded, is only possible to survive with our true love. My demons fear her. She frightens them away. Her love & tenderness stop time in her presence. Hours may pass without our awareness. Too short is time then, it feels stolen away.

Let us return to the bridge taking us gliding on a cloud over the Seine. The rain touching our heads, floating down, making our eyes fill with tears & fall from our lashes. Happiness is within our hearts & the drops are are filled with our love & inner laughter.

Feeling Scottie stop & turn to face me, I repeat the same motion & our eyes fill the space between us. Her hands find their way to my face & hold my head softly. I look deeply into her eyes as they look down at my lips, saying “I love you.” Her lips touch my cheek as she starts kissing me. I am hypnotized. The feeling of heat flushes over my face. Her mouth finds my lips & the sensation of her lips touching mine are that of the light touch of a fluttering butterfly bearly landing on the petals of a budding rose.

I am breathless & floating on the mist as the power of her kiss sinks inside of me. Her lips softly melt into mine. One sensation of depth inside of me growing. I wrap my arms around Scottie’s body, feeling her warmth entering through my skin. I feel naked with her nakedness falling through my skin entering my body, becoming one person. We are above Paris. Floating over the city. All the beauty being absorbed in one infinite moment between the seconds.

When I returned to consciousness, Scottie & I are lying together naked, under the covers of the Coco Chanel bed in our Suite at the Ritz of Paris. Levitation, mysticism & magical whimsey carried us intertwined in our lovers embrace to our place of privacy. Making love without boundaries. No sensations stopped in mid-air. A continual motion of love making the way it originated with free flow & stream of consciousness responses through spontaneity & freedom of creation to make love with a fullness of intensity. No darkness. No interfering nightmares. No interruptions from the past flashing forward or flashbacks setting limits or slamming doors. Just pure sexual freedom. Sensations like molten lava, spilling forth & over the top, pouring down, smoothing the edges, heating up the liquids, while rolling with the golden waves of the sea at dawn.

Are you blushing Annie? I tried to be poetic as much as possible. Feeling so innermost touched by sensations I thought had been stolen. Ones I thought I would never have the chance to feel. Being in Paris. Spending time with Scottie in the late nights. Meeting Jonathan & having a great time with him. Being able to talk honestly & openly in the same place. And Paris is beyond anything one can imagine. It is a dream inside a dream.

Now that we are on the plane flying home, I miss it but I want to be home with Scottie there. See our wonderful babies, Toker, Mikey & Patrick. I want to sleep all together in the same bed all night & all day until we stop missing each other. And just to be in our own home.

I want to see you, too, Annie. I missed you. Yes, I know we talked & could see each other on our laptops. But I couldn’t feel our hugs. I need one of your hugs so badly. They nurture me. You nurture me. I miss hearing your voice while sitting near you.

I didn’t get much writing done except my letters to you. I miss James & Carter, my “Brief Encounter” gang. I love my characters in that screenplay. It will be on the screen really soon. I hadn’t thought of this before, but would you like to come to the premiere? Your whole clan would be invited. It would be fun. Just think about it. I will make sure Celia gets good seats for you. You could all come to the party at our home, Chateau de Rocher, afterwards. I told you Scottie gives great parties. You’d meet some very fun & famous actors. You never know who. Think about it. No pressure. Just let me know.

Now for 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.”

“The moment between seconds.”

For you, I will end this letter in “the moment between seconds.”

Love Fondly,
Madison
@>-;—

© madison taylor 2008

paris louvre statue closeup QUESTION WHO ARE THEYParis – Louvre Statue Closeup of Cupid & Psyche

Somewhere In Time – John Barry

paris springtime eiffel tower CUT OFF WORDS BOTTOM

rain in garden gif

“Reflections”
By Madison Taylor
27th May 2008

Images reflections
Out of dreams sight
Symbols imagined
Explosions
Death’s awakening
Slipping away
Into time backwards
Moving ahead
Melting mountains
Running away
Danger
Hiding

Wanted to harm the flesh
Take away feelings
Never know what was lost
Once taken never returned
Difference changes
Sensations empty
Where heart would be

Love follows journey
Begin new
Remember nothing
Far away inside a nightmare
Held in time’s past

Other dimensions
Taken dark away
Now it burns
Within a volcano
Absorbed by fire
Poured in lava
Out to sea

What does the sea swallow?
Shadow memories
Darkness created
Happened in the mist
Imagined pain
Devoured by the deep

Nothing ever goes there
Except creatures
Eating demons from dreams

Life is respun
Feelings restored
Numbness be gone
Let Go
Let senses start again

© madison taylor 2008

Seeing Out of the Dark by J. McCormack (c)McCormack 2007 [created 11.26.07 by J. McCormack - a pseudonym for Madison Taylor]

Rising Out of the Darkness by Jk McCormack ©J.McCormack 2007 [created 11.26.07 by Jk  McCormack - a pseudonym for Madison Taylor]

Warm Winds [Theme for Madison & Scottie]

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

paris louvre at sunset pyramid w reflectionParis – Louvre at Sunset Pyramid Reflection in Water

paris louvre palace at night water in foregroundParis – Louvre Palace at Night Reflection in Water

paris louvre pyramid at night goldenLouvre Pyramid at Night Golden Reflection – Paris

paris Louvre reflectionLouvre Reflection – Paris

paris Versailles - Marie Antoinette's FarmMarie Antoinette’s Farm – Paris Versailles

jonathan stephens imaginary framedJonathan Stephens is Madison Taylor’s friend in Paris, France

actresses-with-long-hair-hairstyle frenchHunter Marx [ 7 years ago in 2001 year Hunter & Madison met]

play is not just play meryl streep

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

Happy Birthday, John Lennon 9th October

remembering memories day any as happens

Happy Birthday, John Lennon 9th October
Post Created by Jk the secret keeper
Remembered by Jennifer Kiley, Jk the secret keeper, j. kiley
Illustrated by j. kiley
Post Created on Thursday 10th October 2013
Posted On Wednesday 9th October 2013
JOHN LENNON’S BIRTHDAY

Remember Memories

This is strictly music, posters, images, an interview
of John & Yoko with Dick Cavett [great!!!], quotations.
Enjoy. Happy Birthday John, 10/09/13, Love Jennifer

Tiger orchid #14 Robert Mapplethorp

Tiger orchid #14 Robert Mapplethorp

i-dream-my-painting-and-i-paint-my-dream van gogh

accidentally on purpose

writers4peacecs1

Tiger orchid #14 Robert Mapplethorp

Tiger orchid #14 Robert Mapplethorp

not comfort ignorance

life death poster

karmasutra fate fucks u

“Reality leaves a lot to the imagination.”
― John Lennon

Beatles–In My Life

keep calm write something

john lennon facing

john lennon quote on weird

in dreams

imagine maya angelou

happiness john lennon

fuck ur world fuck ur orders

fuck  definition get over it

John Lennon — Stand By Me

“Sometimes it’s not enough to know what things mean,
sometimes you have to know what things don’t mean.” ― Bob Dylan

freedom nature is illegal

free ur mind  john lennon

dragon shadow and thought

dichotomies poster

John Lennon — Woman

daydream wandering

david lynch narrowing of imagination

da vinci quote everything connects

dancing not hear music  nietzsche

John Lennon — Mind Games

crazy not a competition

crazy keeps me sane

bill hicks evolution

belive in magic

To “River”
I Dedicate This Song to My New Little Boy “River.”
He is 3 weeks old & a Dark Grey Tabby Kitten.
Born on the 19th September 2013 shortly before Midnight.

John Lennon — Beautiful Boy

artists are dangerous issued  by joe mccarthy 50s

accidentally on purpose

John Lennon on Dick Cavett [entire show] September 11, 1971 [HD]

I Include This Photo in My Tribute to John
Lennon & Dedicate It to Julie with Love. Jk

Sound-of-Music-maria closeup during singing of edelweiss melts me inside

write beautifully inside mind must be terrible place poster

typewriter-once-upon-a-time1

find-your-voice-flair-set

dragon-writer

calla lily bouquet framed

John Lennon-Imagine

rookie wood  2013  artist paul wood

bedroom perfect high windows light

fire works by matt the samurai.gif

fire works by matt the samurai.gif

gif balls in a maze little blue balls

gif matt_the_samurai_sparkles_Natural GIF

John Lennon — Watching the Wheels

throughout life soul mate poster

candle-flame-gif

moving water gif

hand letting go of golden flecks gif

seasawing elephant gif

Blended Nature by Alex Fitch   706x506

Blended Nature by Alex Fitch

mirror_cat-500x500

John Lennon — Give Peace A Chance

title black background  the words

4p dragon-blue john lennon quote

4p enchanted green walking bridge

meditating on rock overlooking flowing river gif

John Lennon — Power To the People

blue fantasy ---anonymous  1920x1200

blue fantasy —anonymous

neil-gaiman-book-author-quote

neil-gaiman-quotes-even nothing cannot last forever

carter pic for trisha

John Lennon — Starting Over

4p a world in tree green

entering the soul connection

4p beautiful sunset glorious

hands reaching out into rain

candle flame flickering gif

John Lennon — Jealous Guy

field_of_daisies

surreal green planet under water  by rolan gonzalez  812x512

surreal green planet under water by rolan gonzalez

a flower of many colours-this is for you

erotic flowers and an exotically colourful butterfly

The Beatles — And I Love Her

soul mates filled with yellow rays of sun

candle flame w hand gif

The Beatles — If I Fell

4p if the goddes were a kittie irridescent kitten

depression twisted japanese maple

garden purple flowers

The Beatles — Michelle

garden did you know

van gogh starry night variation

the anatomy of a cover - cover - artist masloski carmen 3800x3500

the anatomy of a cover – cover – artist masloski carmen

The Beatles — You’ve Got to Hide Your Love Away

(1) Butterfly Elegant-Yorkshire rose

(1) abstract-streak-lightning

Quite Busy --- abstract digital art 864x540

Quite Busy — abstract digital art

critical thinker by j. kiley 820x419

critical thinker by j. kiley

The Beatles — Norwegian Wood

abstract purple digital art by j. kiley © jennifer kiley 2013

abstract purple digital art by j. kiley © jennifer kiley 2013

angel oak tree charleston sc

life from death created by j. kiley

life from death created by j. kiley

unconscious reflections by j. kiley © jennifer kileycreated by j. kiley (c) jennifer kiley 2013

The Beatles — Hey, Jude

life death poster

create u r a creator poster

abiotic by yani ioannou

abiotic by yani ioannou

shattered time - unknown artist

shattered time – unknown artist

The Beatles — The Long and Winding Road

hesse tree

i wish i could

autumn tree gif

silver ball by sl8r.co

silver ball by sl8r.co

sea cloud sunset by j.kiley © jennifer kileycreated by j. kiley (c) jennifer kiley 2013

The Beatles — Across the Universe

music gives soul plato

snowing by pinstriped briefs

snowing by pinstriped briefs

(1) book letters flying dark backround

couleurs du ciel par j. kiley © jennifer kiley 2013created by j. kiley (c) jennifer kiley 2013

running stream gif

water dripping gig

The Beatles — Let It Be

dancing music nietzsche gif

hands reaching out into rain

artists are dangerous issued  by joe mccarthy 50s

to feel infinite

The Beatles — While My Guitar Gentle Weeps

john lennon quote poster

john and yoko

happy mouse

candle-flame-gif

candle-flame-gif

les bougies qui dirigent les jeunes voyageurs d'âme

les bougies qui dirigent les jeunes voyageurs d’âme

john lennon by stephen anderson

John Lennon  Peace Shine On

John Lennon Peace Shine On

John Lennon Oct.9th, 19 Dec. 8th, 19

John Lennon
Oct.9th, 19
Dec. 8th, 19

The Beatles — Strawberry Fields

living inside of bubbles with flowers they burst and reality touches your soul

living inside of bubbles with flowers they burst and reality touches your soul

bubbling darkness gif

bubbling darkness gif

white unicorn phantom limb by odani motohiko (1)

john lennon by stephen anderson

(1) yoko one  its alright imaginepeace

John Lennon — Oh, Yoko

trees and night sky fireflies and polka-tumblr

trees and night sky fireflies and polka-tumblr

The Beatles — All You Need Is Love

fall island (1)

love friendship white flower

colorful_abstract_effect_of_glass_and_shards dragon

light dark crystal (1)

love friendship flowers (1)

tears are words

Sadness (1)

spiritual dove (1)

APTOPIX Germany Zoo Panther

N/A

The Beatles — Lucy In the Sky with Diamonds

alice begin at the beginning 1

may day flowers for christa

spiritual pathway

jacaranda tree abstract 1

John Lennon — Mother

Below Is the Surrogate Mother
I Always Dreamed I Would Find Someday

julie w. baby emma

watch over you

true friends forever

write-your-own-story

The Beatles — When I’m 64?

symbols of faith 2

genius madness aristotle

writing calvin-and-hobbes-on-writing

john-and-yoko

John Lennon — Oh, My Love

a friendly little one just exercising fire breathing

a friendly little one just exercising fire breathing

Private Writings: Chapter #27 — Getting to Know You

private writings to a psychoanalyst (c) Jk 2013

Private Writings: Chapter #27 — Getting to Know You
Written by Jennifer Kiley
Illustrated by j. kiley
Published Introduction & Chapter #1
On 19th March 2013
Published Early Tuesday AM
Posted 24th 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, 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 #27 — Getting to Know You

Tuesday 25th March 2008

Dear Annie,

Last week, I told you I felt your participating with Dr. George in pulling off his coup, to get me into a closure session with him, which I swore I would never do, he used you like a pedophile uses candy. It appeared to me after the fact, you both had conspired. After I heard in my head my accusation, I realized you were above his manipulations. I am truly sorry for even giving any credence to anything so outrageous.

It was so difficult to tell you I made a mistake. Saying I am sorry. Not my favorite choice word to use or do. Usually, if someone fucks up, they are gone from my life. No second chances. With you, I realize it has to do with my mother. She fucked my mind up with her sadist games. Made me the Apologizer.

I don’t want to behave in reaction to the way she made me feel, which was beaten down and pushed away. Inside of me, I felt I needed her. To get her back on my side, it was important I apologize until she forgave me. Groveling was the pattern. No more. I will not kneel like a slave and endure her form of humiliation.

Love is not meant to be as she made me feel it was. Something perverse and punishing. You don’t hurt someone you love by beating them into submission. To make them afraid of you. If they wanted your love, you had to obey them. Follow their orders and never stand up for yourself. Everything was in their control. My mother controlled everything. What I was allowed to know. I had to go to her just to get the basic things I needed to function as a human being.

I wasn’t supposed to know anything about my body. She tried to prevent me from attending a learning session about sex and reproduction at our school. I was too young to understand what I would be learning because she never told me a thing about sex or life or love. She was just abusive.

Her abuse, I have figured out over the years since I left my family and her behind, was grounded in sadomasochism. She was my master or mistress. There are supposed to be safe words to make the dominant person stop. We didn’t have one. She would beat me or whip me. It often was whip to naked flesh. It ripped my skin and made me bleed. There was no pleasure. I gave no consent. It was all her.

Never was there preparation for her abuse. She would corner me where she found me. We were always alone in the house whenever this would happen. The weapon of choice for any given day was always in her hand, prepared to strike. Her yelling accompanied the blows. When she stopped, it was never the end. I would be crying. This made her turn the beatings more violent. Her threats would come in shouting the words, the same words over and over. I knew them by heart.

“If you don’t stop crying, I will give you something to cry about.”

It was always the same. What more could she give me to cry about that would be worse than what she was doing to me. Humiliating me. It was often and always when no one else was expected to be around. No one would have protected me anyway. They were all abusers. I was their slave. My place was arranged so I would be there for them whenever they wanted something from me.

The detail are too difficult for me to write down. I will just say, my body did not belong to me. It was used by everyone. I hated it. I didn’t like what it made me feel or what it made them do to me. Inside of me are stored memories I have buried deeply. In my nightmares, symbols of the abuse are alive and haunt me when I attempt to sleep. It is why I avoid sleep as long as I am able.

My honesty, I hope does not turn you away. It is awful to feel and to say the words to you, the descriptions makes me ill. I can’t eat. Putting anything into my body repels me. Nourishing myself is keeping me alive. When I am alone, I think of death. Some would find my thoughts to be crazy but I am not. If the feelings come back, and I begin to cry, I will never cease. Life will pour out of me in the tears and the ground will absorb my energy. Dust is all that will remain.

Losing love is like death. Losing life is less painful. I want love but I am afraid to feel it. It will cause me pain for a moment of joy. My emotions flip over so quickly. They take me by surprise when I am feeling happy and so suddenly, I just want to die. Feeling suicidal is sweet. It is not as horrible a place as most believe it is. Being held in the arms of your guardian angel, protecting you, so you are not totally alone in the darkness set upon your soul.

It makes me think of the group member who was murdered. I feel she was even if no formal announcement has been made. Dr. George could well have done it. She was a bitch and possessed with her power to seduce. I think she was a bit of a sex addict. It wouldn’t surprise me if I had the same problem. So many people I have had sex with, no love involved. It wasn’t even enjoyable. And believe me when I say, I have no idea why it happened. Other therapists have told me it is a manifestation from the abuse I endured.

Why am I telling you this? It is so fucked up. Why would anyone want me? I am a broken toy, not even able to be played with, just used up and thrown away. Why shouldn’t I want to throw myself away as others want to do? It seems a trend. No one wants to take the time to make things work. It is a throw-away world. We are all cast aside and if not, we are forgotten where we are supposed to feel love.

I am depressed so quickly. Maybe it hides and tricks me into believing everything is alright, when it isn’t at all. The world has fallen apart. “The End Is Nigh.” That I what the signs say. They carry them around in all the big cities. Everyone waiting for the world to end or be bombed to death. No one knows how to get along.

Some know love and share it. It is something I want to do. To be loved and to love in return. To feel music when I am kissed. To be able just to feel the kiss, the touch of lips touching gently together. Is that too much to desire? To know what an honest, loving touch is without wanting to back away. I wonder what that is like.

I shouldn’t say I’ve never felt it. it isn’t true. There was someone, I felt extremely close to. We would sleep together without any expectations. No one touched, unless it was accidental. But what a lovely accident it would be. It allowed me to be free. No pressure was put on me to experience anything I didn’t want.

I never learned how to say stop and have it mean anything at all. With her, I wanted to learn how to say, “Don’t stop.” Now, that is a scary two words to think or to say out loud. I never learned how to do that either, I wish I could have told her how I felt and what I wanted. She knew but was as shy as me. People frightened her as well with all their demands on her. She was so beautiful and popular.

What does popular mean? It seems a strange state to be in. These are very heavy issues. So much to talk about and to learn. I wish I had someone like you as my mother. You speak so softly and calmly. I didn’t even mind when your hand touched my shoulder. It happened the time we met for our first session. You came out and I was so far away inside my mind. The music led me beyond the clouds. Maybe I was on the way to Neverland to escape facing you. All the time I wanted to have time alone with you to speak privately. My secrets are too dark to share with other people around me. Even alone, I am terrified at saying aloud what I just finished writing. It is too embarrassing and I feel so ashamed.

I know you are going to ask the questions and you are going to want to know the answers. They don’t exist in my conscious mind. My unconscious mind, however, it quite fertile with depths of secrets it holds for me. The secrets live in the dungeons of my deepest, darkest labyrinth. Hiding around a corner I have found yet.

You need to hold my hand and walk me ever so slowly through the dark. Until we meet each secret separately. When we talk about them, we must find a way for me not to lose myself inside. I fear I would be lost forever.

This is the beginning of the extremes of my confessions. Time to change directions.

Speaking of time, a brief update on my film script. The Friends of Nikola Tesla need to guard his secrets carefully and their own identities as well. There is an organization who are in pursuit of the secrets as well. They know the secrets are hidden and intend to find them and when they do, they will be destroyed. On the side of good, the Friends are in constant danger of discovery. The holder of the place where the secrets are held, each one separately. Tesla was not about to put them all together. He spread them out, in different locations. But there is more to where they are hidden then just knowing that piece of information.

Carter McLeod holds the key. But she has no idea what it is yet. Soon she will find out. When it is time, I will reveal what I know to you. It has to be kept between us. It would spoil the film if it ever got out. I’ve told you way too much already, but feel the secret will be safe with you. Being my therapist, aren’t you sworn to hold what I say to you in confidence? It is the only reason I would be able to share this with you. Not just the script but the secrets of my life I don’t wish anyone to know.

I kept my family a secret from the world and the rest my life, also. There are so many buried stories, it would make a priest want absolution after hearing my confession. Or is it really a confession? It’s more confessing for the sinners rather than the sinned upon.

It’s time for me to stop. We have far too much to sort through already. I will bring this letter to our next session. It should blow the lid off somewhat, and the light can set fire to the sins. Next, after a break, I want to write you a poem. It may hold within its words an understanding I really do not see at this moment of honest clarity.

I bid you a great week, as I sift through what may have been jarred loss by my writings tonight.

I am so amazed you are finally my therapist or analyst. Whichever you prefer.

Fondly, your client in need of you,

Madison

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

Dr. Annie Haskell’s Office as a Psychoanalyst

Somewhere In Time – John Barry

calla lily bouquet framed

rain in garden gif

Heartbreak Deep
Written by Madison Taylor
25th March 2008

Heartbreak touches deep
Expectations protection
Never abuse foreseeing

Kneel down forgiveness
Wall impossible to scale
Borders blocked denied entrance

Wait hear not sorry
Disappear rather than stay
Closed doors rejection complete

© madison taylor 2008

Antaresheart --- Explosion of the heart

Antaresheart — Explosion of the heart

“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

English Country Gardens Chateau de Rocher framed English Garden Chateau de Rocher

play is not just play meryl streep

Laughing Louder Part 2

Laughing Louder Part 2
Scenes That Make You Laugh
Post Created by Jk the secret keeper
With Assistance from Shawn MacKENZIE
Written by Jennifer Kiley
Posted On Saturday 10th August 2013
SPECIAL REPOST OF Lightness Of Being
WORDPRESS TIME TRAVELED OTHER POSTING
BACK TO JULY 7TH 2013 SO MOST HAVEN’T HAD A
CHANCE TO SEE THIS. BROUGHT IT FORWARD IN TIME.
IT REALLY IS RATHER FUNNY…SO ENJOY 8-)
Lightness of Being

Sometimes you just need the cure of laughter. This is one of those moments.

I speak rather subjectively on all of the material I chose for this post. I hope it works for everyone who watches. Laughter is so necessary in everyone’s life. Everyone has a different sense of humour. I hope my choices make you all laugh. With Good Spirit I offer This Up For You and For Shawn and Myself To Bring Some Needed Laughter Into Our Life at This Moment.

Starting right out with the funniest scene from the film Tootsie — The Reveal. If you haven’t seen Tootsie, where have you been? You definitely need it in your life. Brilliant concept. Brilliant acting by Dustin Hoffman. A stellar cast of characters and fantastic actors playing the roles.

“Because I think I am an interesting woman when I look at myself on screen. And I know that if I met myself at a party, I would never talk to that character because she doesn’t fulfill physically the demands that we’re brought up to think women have to have in order to ask them out. — There’s too many interesting women I have…not had the experience to know in this life because I have been brainwashed.” – Dustin Hoffman [From an Interview Dustin did about Tootsie and why he felt he had to do the role of Dorothy Michaels and play a character in the soap opera Southwest General.

Tootsie (1982) Dustin Hoffman - Reveal Scene

What's Up Doc? Two researchers have come to San Francisco to compete for a research grant in Music. One seems a bit distracted, and that was before he meets her. A strange woman seems to have devoted her life to confusing and embarrassing him. At the same time a woman has her jewels stolen and a government whistle blower arrives with his stolen top secret papers. All, of course have the same style and color overnight bag. The accidental mix up of four identical plaid overnight bags leads to a series of increasingly wild and wacky situations and a chase through the streets of San Francisco. Starring Barbra Streisand, Ryan O'Neal, and Madeline Kahn, plus an amazing cast of very funny actors.

What's Up Doc? Part 1

What's Up Doc? Part 2

Foul Play. One of my favorite scenes from the movie Foul Play. It shows Goldie Hawn and Chevy Chase racing to the Opera in order to foil a plot to assassinate the Pope. He is attending a performance of Gilbert and Sullivan's The Mikado. Inter-cut throughout are scenes at the Opera House with Dudley Moore conducting the orchestra. This is a combination Comedy, Mystery and Romantic Thriller. It was a huge hit in the Summer of 1978. Directed by Colin Higgins.

Foul Play (1978) "The Race To The Opera" [*uncut]

The following comes from Monty Python’s film Life With Brian. Sacrilegious for some, hysterical and rather delightfully pleasant for others. No intention of offending unless you are lacking any sense of humour and find nothing funny about anything at all. I might say, “Go suck an egg. They are quite good cooked, pealed and a bit of salt sprinkled on them.”

Monty Python — Always Look on the Bright Side of Life

If you are familiar with Mel Brooks, he has created some of the funniest films, one of which is The Producers. I laughed so hard after seeing the scene where Bloom flips out. Bloom is played by Gene Wilder and his soon to be cohort in crime is played by Zero Mostel. This scene never ceases to amaze me. Every time I watch it, I cannot help but to laugh.

The Producers — Bloom Flips Out

Mel Brooks tries every chance he gets to insult, put down, humiliate any notion of Hitler and the Nazis. In this video clip he gets the Fuehrer really good. If you think you cannot laugh at something hysterically funny about Hitler and totally destroying his Aryan imagery and fucked up cruelty and make him a laughing moron, then pass this video by, otherwise laugh your a** off. Keep in mind the premise of this film is to find the worst Broadway Show possible so the producers can oversell their production and collect millions when it flops. Well, see for yourself what happens. It truly will shock you into hysterical laughter.

Springtime For Hitler — The Producers

Now for something completely different.

Not from a film but just Madeline Kahn, on stage with backup orchestra, singing a surprisingly funny song. You’d be surprised how it will make you laugh. Couldn’t resist adding it.

Madeline Kahn — You’d Be Surprised

This video of the Lumberjack Song is one of the funniest skits Monty Python has ever put on their show. It is something you can listen to often and it still makes you laugh.

Lumberjack Song — Monty Python

Madeline Kahn does a Gracie Allen to George Burns’ as straight man. If you are a Burns & Allen fan you will love this routine. Guaranteed to laugh out loud.

Madelyn Kahn & George Burns

I hoped you found your laughter and some peace of mind, heart, body and soul. Jk the secret keeper

May All of Life & Nature Find Protection from the Tragedies of the World.
May All Living Beings Find Their Wishes Coming True & Peace Covering the Whole World Over.

New Poetry Release: SEVEN DAYS OF ASHES ~Hymns to the Holocaust by Alan Patrick Traynor

the secret keeper:

Alan Patrick Traynor wrote a brilliant selection of poems in his new book Seven Days of Ashes. These are times to never forget ever. Alan Patrick takes you their by bravely visiting the past himself, experiencing the excruciation pain of the holocaust. Blood for ink, he etched on paper the words you will want to read and absorb into your own soul. Never must the message he brings through his words, ever be forgotten. Alan Patrick brings the truth to your minds, traveling back along the lines of his poems to places locked in its place, cemented in times always needing to be remembered. The memories are carried in his words so truthfully and feelingly. You will never be the same after you visit the past through the rawness of his words as he reveals the truth through his eyes. Jk the secret keeper

Originally posted on After Nyne:

Screen Shot 2013-08-09 at 14.15.11

SEVEN DAYS OF ASHES ~Hymns to the Holocaust is the latest collection from Irish poet Alan Patrick Traynor.

Traynor has travelled immensely throughout Europe and the United States for a good half of his life, and has gathered some extraordinary skills in how he breaks into the stark meter of suffering, with a music that will haunt his words and wounds deep into your deepest heart.

‘The book was initially inspired by watching a short video documentary about the Holocaust artist Felix Nussbaum, and then began a life of its own, that gave birth to a horrific poetic viewpoint like a timeless lens into the spirit of the Holocaust.  To me, it’s as if the poems were written from an eye-witness account from the dead victims’ says Traynor, deeply affected by his subject.

The seven poems are deep veridicous spears from the soul of the poet, and are…

View original 252 more words

Allen Ginsberg: Poet Buddhist Howl

tell me a story
Allen Ginsberg:Poet Buddhist Howl
Notations by Jennifer Kiley
Interview Face to Face BBC 1995
Quotes In Broken Form by Jennifer Kiley
Created 4th August 2013
Posted Thursday 8th August 2013
TELL ME A STORY

Allen Ginsberg interviewed by Jeremy Isaacs in 1995 for the BBC

1995 – Face to Face with Jeremy Isaacs: An Interview with Allen Ginsberg Part One

1995 – Face to Face with Jeremy Isaacs: An Interview with Allen Ginsberg Part Two

1995 – Face to Face with Jeremy Isaacs: An Interview with Allen Ginsberg Part Three

Listening to Allen Ginsberg was a Transcendental Experience of Heightened Awareness.

Allen Ginsberg: An Honest Interview Filled with Insightful Stories. An Inspiring Talk. Finishing With the Most Moving Lyrical Poem Written by Allen’s Father and in This Interview Set to Music. Allen Sings ‘Father Death Blues’ to Close Out the Interview. I Listened to the Song Until I Was Able to Completely Write Down All the Lyrics. It Is Amazing and to Hear Allen Ginsberg Sing It Blows Me Away and I Think It Will Do the Same for Anyone with Soul and Heart. The Whole Interview Is Worth the Time It Takes to Listen. Enlightenment Is One Possible Reward.

“I saw the best minds of my generation destroyed by madness…starving, mystical naked…too sentimental…changed it to starving hysterical…naked. “
— Allen Ginsberg

Howl, was it an angry poem?
“A gesture of sympathy for a friend in trouble…full devouring God…angry…anguish…ultimate accusation is the mind…the all devouring God…our own mind.”
— Allen Ginsberg

Candor in poetry.
“I very consciously follow my mentor, Walt Whitman. Early version of Leaves of Grass…he hoped Americans would develop into a condition of more candid…Manipulative frankness…he was candid about his emotions…he wasn’t candid about his physical relationships…there was a lineage where someone had slept with Walt Whitman…so there is a lineage of gossip…he couldn’t proclaim his physical love but certainly their was an expression of his emotional love.”
— Allen Ginsberg

“Walt Whitman wasn’t able to proclaim his physical love in his poetry.”
— Allen Ginsberg

He was convinced a lobotomy was necessary. So he signed the papers.
“I signed for my mother’s lobotomy…I felt tremendous guilt…Had to deal with her irrationality…Difficult to get to love…Longing for feminine bliss at the same fear of it…and so I am gay in a sense.”
— Allen Ginsberg

Mother in sane episodes.
“She claimed to be the secretary of Patterson, N.J communist party itself…Great strikes with John Reed in 1918…Has a great labor history.”
— Allen Ginsberg

“Hoover, who was a closet gay, destroyed the labor unions in America because they were originally formed by left wing pinkos to form a left in America…The mafia moved into the vacuum and were protected by Hoover. So there is no left in America, only the right and the middle.”
— Allen Ginsberg

“Had something like a visionary experience or an hallucination…the endlessness of the skies…50 year ago Italian workman made all the scroll work on the architecture of New York…Buddhism…what was real or not real…ended up arrested…choice of going to jail or the mad houses…it was a situation where I was alone…had an affair with Neal Cassidy…William Burroughs was a close friend for many years but wasn’t around…read others and read Blake…sick rose…sunflower…hearing Blake’s voice outside of his own body…reciting…latent projection…ah, sunflower weary of time…seeking after that great golden climb…aspire where my sunflower wishes to grow…the heavens were endless…or the sky was endless, I would say.”
— Allen Ginsberg

Did that help you become a poet? You used drugs after that to try to recapture that experience.
“I used dried leaves…It wasn’t natural…At the time I was eating vegetables. I wasn’t eating meat…Leading a solitary life…Freedom is another word for nothing more to lose…My heart was open in a sense at the time.”
— Allen Ginsberg

Drugs…Does it permanently help you to perceive an expanded universe?
“An ordinary mind that the universe is endless…awaken you to an ordinary mind…the psychedelic experience…Peyote…natural mushroom…a panoramic awareness…the natural experience…can be catalized by the psychedelic experience…but would recommend that people learn a meditative experience…following your breath…notice when your mind wanders…do it every day…since 1970…8 hours for weeks at a time…now I use other styles…quieting the mind…I tried something called ecstasy…I was remembering an old enemy…his transformation that I had someone to define my limits…psychedelics…how they were able to apply them in ordinary mind.”
— Allen Ginsberg

“My father was a lyric poet…I learned it at his knee…learned rhyme…he wrote a poem ‘father death blues’ I read it at his funeral…a caddish…met my mother later 1983 on as a bag lady where I had a chance to take care of her which I didn’t when she was alive…they were both agnostics [parents]…there is some problem with an absolute hierarchical…Jewishness passed by…”

— Allen Ginsberg

Are you a writer or a performer…best read on the page or read out loud?
“Vernacular communication…I am primarily a writer…there is a dimension of sound…It is possible to vocalize to have my poems understood more rapidly…I am not a performer…”
— Allen Ginsberg

Has your writing has a political effect?
“Talked to Dylan. He knew he had power but knew it was miniscule compared to the small number who own the mass media? It would be very difficult for a poet to overcome that kind of power…but if you need the historical truth of what people think inside…the poet tells the unsubjective truth…the government is of words…they are writing prose…their language is shifty…the poet can say what they really think.”
— Allen Ginsberg

Who is the love of your life?
“A number of people…I use to have one a day…had someone I loved for 40 years…I was in love with Kerouac…Neal Cassidy…with whom I had a funny affair that lasted over 20 years..any fantasy I had as an adolescent.”

— Allen Ginsberg

As you get older what do you most fear?
“Cancer…pain…I have a short one line poem ‘Get use to your body. Forget you were born. Suddenly, you’ve got to get out.’ How to approach death…how to leave the body…”
— Allen Ginsberg

Both Dylan and Kerouac think you’re a con-man. What did they mean by that?
“The trickster in them…it’s in reference to the trickster hero…last time I saw Dylan he asked me about Blake…Jokes …Characteristic of them.”
— Allen Ginsberg

How would you like us to remember you?
“The poem ‘Father Death Blues’…please let him go…continue your celebration…[singing---fruition of his Buddhist training] hey father death I’m flying home…hey poor man you’re all alone…hey old daddy I know where I’m going…father death don’t cry anymore…momma’s there underneath the floor…brother death please mind the store…old auntie death I hear your groans…old uncle death I see your bones…oh sister death how sweet your moans…oh children deaths go breathe your breaths… sobbing breaths so ease your deaths…pain is gone tears ate the rest…genius death your heart is done…lover death your body’s gone…father death I’m coming home…guru death your words are true…teacher death I do thank you for inspiring me to sing this blues…Buddha death I wake with you…Dharma death your mind is new…song of death we’ll work it through…suffering is what was born…ignorance made me forlorn…tearful truths I cannot scorn…father’s breath once more farewell…birth you gave was no faint pill…my heart is still as time will tell.”
— Allen Ginsberg

Random Transcription—so much more in interview… by Jennifer Kiley

No Face No Fingers

No Face No Fingers
Post Created by Jennifer Kiley
Post Created Tuesday 23rd July 2013
Poem by Alan Patrick Traynor
Sunday 28th July 2013
A WRITER’S WORD

seven days of ashes book cover 1

Plum Tree Books is proud to announce the publication of

Alan Patrick Traynor’s first book of poetry.
Seven Days Of Ashes
Hymns to the Holocaust

Alan writes clouds, ether, fire and death. You will smell his words. He sets the page alight, breaking the rules. He is the new voice of poetry! …”Is Alan a mystic who speaks for the dead? He gives shape, immediacy and a new meaning to a reality that still haunts us collectively…” — Niamh Clune

— Niamh Clune, CEO and Publisher of Plum Tree Books, blog: on the plum tree, poet, writer and all around Renaissance woman, author of Orange Petals in a Storm and The Coming of the Feminine Christ.

Alan Patrick, your poems are solemn and speak the poetic version of the truth. I have read the words you put to paper, this book is a masterpiece on the highest level. A challenging and diverse group of so many people to represent. I do believe you have met this calling in direct and honest words with poetic revelation and justice.

The Nazis perpetrated this horror. It is a sickening feeling to think or even imagine being in those situations of death.

I am so moved by your words-both of you, Niamh Clune as the publisher who had the foresight to present the rebel and genius of the poet Alan Patrick Traynor. Congratulations to you and Niamh Clune with hopes of success and wishes that you reach many with your words of truth. — By Jennifer Kiley

burning violin 1

The following poem THE FLAG THAT KNOWS NO DREAM by Alan Patrick Traynor is not part of the collection, but it resonates. Jk

the flag that knows no dream (c) alan patrick traynor

dragonfly expressionism 1

Escher Bond On Union

Escher Bond On Union

'NIGHT' ElieWiesel 1

Holocaust — A Deception of Truth