Bittersweet Celebration

 The cool hum of the drive core, the shiny steel walls, and the large windows that that reveal the stars, our only companions in space. These made the ship feel cold to me at first.

I look around at my crew and remember my first mission as commanding officer. I barely knew my crew, but as we went through hell and back, our bond became unbreakable. We saved the galaxy and when we got back to civilization, we were labeled as pariahs. The political leaders of the galaxy were in denial.

They didn’t want to believe that we were in danger. Only now that their home planets have been invaded, they look to us for salvation. After Alaina’s death on Haestrom, Kirrahe sacrificing his team to save mine, Kaide abandoning me on Ilos, after dying and losing the ship, everything changed.  We’ve lost a lot of good people, humans, aliens, and machines. My crew has done more for the galaxy in three years than the council ever has. I hope they remember that. Not all of us are going to make it out of this alive. 

I feel a hand on my shoulder and jump. “Whoa, Davies. I didn’t mean to scare ya.” Kaide says while stepping back and chuckles. I just sigh and shake my head, as if that’ll wake me up. My second in-command steps closer and gently grabs my arm, “Jen, what’s wrong?” I don’t look at him. I turn back to the balcony in my apartment and observe my crew, my family. “Are we going to make it, Kaide?” I nod towards my family. “Are they going to make it?”  “Look…it’s gonna be…it’ll be what it is. You’ve done everything you can. You’ve gathered the people, you’ve made all of this happen. Whatever happens, you are the one that got us here. You’ve given us a fighting chance. What you’ve done…is build hope.” I tear my gaze away from the party downstairs to look at him. He chuckles nervously, “You remember Menae? The mission after Alaina died? I thought I’d lost you forever. And then, Ilos…I abandoned you. And you still… You still… You never treated anyone like they weren’t worthy. You never stopped fighting for me. For us. Ya know Jen, I, I love you. I always have.” “Davies! Alenko! Get down here! Liara wants to take a photo!” Tali’s vibrating animated voice calls from below us in the center of the party. I sighed, “Well, I guess we better get down there. Come on, Kaide.”

 

Movies and Why They’re so Important to me Part 1

        I had a fairly progressive childhood when it came to the movies I watched with my family, or really, my dad. I grew up watching American Pie, Van Wilder, Armaggeddon, The Green Mile, Hellraiser, Scarface, and so on. Most parents would never let their four-year-old watch movies like that, but my family was different. My dad worked for ten or more hours a day and came home to cook and clean, so every night, after dinner, my dad, my big sister, and I would sit in the living room, sprawled over the couch and the floor, and watched a real movie. We didn’t even own hardly any kids movies. We only owned one Disney movie, The Jungle Book.

      And to this day, I still enjoy watching those same movies, even though my family doesn’t anymore. I organize my movies like my music library on spotify, in playlists. We all know that the types of movies that you watch so much you memorize them say something about you. Most of the people to see my “playlists” of movies tell me that they don’t particularly like my movies because at least half of them depict very sexual, party-loving, carefree young adults (mostly college students).

         Now, I know that this is a very basic category, and almost every male that enjoyed the 90’s era would know like the back of their hand. But, even though they are very basic, I enjoy and identify with the “slacker” movies. I mean, first of all, I’m a very masculine person, my favorite shows are Ridiculousness, The Fresh Prince, Friends, and the list goes on. I was raised by my dad, who, unfortunately at the time was the biggest slacker I have ever met (including myself) even though he had a grueling career in construction. He had the same taste in films as I do in regards to that film “playlist”.

Marilyn Manson; Intelligent, Outspoken, Idealist or Crazed Psychopath?

TW:  Abortions, censored.

Let’s talk about one of the artists I’ve been listening to for at least a decade. This will probably have vulgar language (as it is Marilyn Manson) but I will censor it out. Marilyn Manson. I’ll admit, his music was weird to me as a young child, but my dad kinda pushed him onto me and I grew into it. For example, his song My Monkey, states:

I had a little monkey
I sent him to the country and I fed him on gingerbread
Along came a choo-choo, knocked my monkey coo-coo
And now my monkey’s dead
At least he looks that way
But then again don’t we all

And later in the song these words are sang;

We are our own wicked gods…

Sadistic and constantly inflicting a slow demise

The first quotation is a quote from the famous cult leader Charles Manson’s song “Mechanical Man”. Any Marilyn Manson fan knew of Marilyn’s fascination with icons Marilyn Monroe and Charles Manson and how they influenced the 1960’s. So,  naturally, Marilyn would be fascinated by Charles Manson. 

The second quotation is a reference to a song he would release two years later named Revelation #9. Which has a quotation: “Are all your infants in abortion cribs…” Which is a reference to when he found an aborted fetus inside of a coffee can.

The imagery of “infants in abortion cribs” metaphorically comments on the rejection of one’s child.

In his song, “The Beautiful People”, Manson protests societal views (as usual) when it comes to the once universal belief on beauty. 

“And I don’t want you and I don’t need you

Don’t bother to resist or I’ll beat you…”

These are the words of the beautiful/powerful people towards the ugly/powerless people. They don’t want them or need them but threaten them not to resist or they will be demolished. 

“…The weak ones are there to justify the strong

It’s all relative to the size of your steeple

You can’t see the forest for the trees….

There’s no time to discriminate…”

The first line is self-explanatory. As for the second one, it refers to a church’s steeple. It means that people compensate for their shortcomings by being more narcissistic.

The third line means that people are too focused on one aspect of things instead of taking other things into consideration. For example, say you’re one of “the beautiful people”. You’re concentrating on the homeless asking for handouts.  Thinking of the homeless as “dirty beggars” rather than focusing on an actual problem like,  “why are there so many homeless?”. 

The fourth line ties into that. This roughly translates to, “They think that they’re better than us”. 

The sixth line has to be my favorite in the song. It was practically my motto in middle school and still kinda is to this day. It just means to hate everyone equally because there’s no use in hating people for specific things that don’t matter. It takes too much time and effort to discriminate. 

So, out of these three amazing (I know it’s biased but I love Manson) songs, I have found a plethora of information that is relevant to today’s society and haven’t found a single one to be crazy at all. Yes, they’re colorful, but crazy? No. He’s one of the few artists who can turn societal norms into relatable topics and show us how poisonous they can be. In short, he’s just trying to humanize us a bit more. And we could really use that in today’s day and age. 

I know that there are many more Marilyn songs that I could decipher, but there’s always next week. So, if you want a specific song decoded, comment on the song. 

 I shall leave you all with a quote: “Music is the strongest form of magic.” -Marilyn Manson

Betsy

This is the piece I read for the October Open Mic Event, which was themed, “Woodland Dreams”… 

“I remember it clear as day.” his old raspy voice floated through the cab of our old beat up truck while we drove around before the sun come up. He said, “I was ten years old. It was a mornin’ like this one. The sun was miles from comin’ up, so I thought I’d get a head start on my daily huntin’ trip.”

We slowly came around the bend that if I had to guess was as tall as a house. It had rained so much the roads were like the mud had been made with baby oil instead of rain. I’d already hit my head once on the door, making me dizzy. I don’t even like hunting, but I’d been busy and wanted to spend some time with him, before it was too late.

When we got to a better part of the road, he continued his story, “Anyway, I had my rifle in my hands and my pack on my back. I’d been calling a turkey for about half an hour and he was about forty yards in front of me. About from you to that big oak tree with a twisted branch.” He pointed to a tree I must’ve seen a million times. “I was decked head to toe in camo, movin’ as quiet as I could.  I almost pulled the trigger when I heard a noise I’ll never forget.

It was faint. I stayed there listenin’ for a minute.” His voice got real quiet when he said this. He doesn’t ever get this quiet unless it’s something truly heartbreaking. “Daddy, you don’t have to tell me.” He shook his head, lookin’ at the clearings around us, “No. I want to.”

We got out of the truck and started walking. He started talkin’ again, real low so he didn’t disturb the woods. “I’d walked for about a mile to the east and I came to a clearing with an old beat-up shack that was the color of grey mud. You could tell that it had been abandoned for a while. Your great-granddaddy used to tell me stories about the people who used it as a huntin’ shack.”

We’d stopped at a little house just like the one he described. I’d seen this house many times in my life. It’s not three miles from my house. It sunk in quickly, “Daddy…is this…?” He kept lookin around, as if the intensity of his stare would part the trees and present the subject of his gaze to him. I knew for certain in that moment, that I’d been correct in my assumption.

He looked as if he were swallowing a golf ball. “I heard the animal again and my heart dropped to my toes. I knew that animal. That was my horse, Betsy. She was a gift from my pawpaw, your great-granddaddy, when I was six years old. She was the last thing he gave me before he died.”

His voice started cracking, “Her appaloosa colored coat was matted with blood. She was layin’ in the rusty leaves, unable to move. She kept jerkin’ her head around. I crept slowly toward her callin’ her name as I do every mornin’. After gazing into her big doe eyes and whisperin’ to her, she calmed down a bit.”

He had sat on an old chair that had been worn from recent use. We caught our breath for a minute. “Her back was broken and she’d been attacked by somethin”. After a few moments, I said my goodbyes to her. I…picked up my rifle, aimed it between her beautiful eyes, and pulled the trigger slowly…” H

e went quiet for a while. I wrapped my arm around his torso, and we sat there. Just me comforting him like he’s done for me my entire life. 

Liara

Chapter One: Maid


I detest having to clean the floors. Especially for the royals. I despised it. To spend my days answering to everyone superior me, there to fill out every command or wish. Liara do this. Liara do that, I thought as I sat on my knees, cleaning as hard as I ever had.

The King had a new lady coming to visit. There seems to be an endless stream of ladies being introduced to his court. I can’t stand the king’s court. The lords of the gentleman’s’ court would ravage the young girls without a care and leave ’em, having found better ladies whom had better social stature and titles. I’ve spent too many nights lending my shoulder for girls having been left. I think they’re silly to think a lord is going to wed a maid.

But what do I know? I’m just a maid. I spent my days as a personal maid for the king and his seemingly endless stream of young wives. When he didn’t get a son, he’d divorce or execute the wives and would’ve already found a new queen. I think that the king’s ideals were abhorrent. Not that my opinion mattered. At least, I thought it didn’t.

Little did I know, the king would.

The Joy the Holiday Season Brings

It’s frigid outside

Like we were inside of a snow globe

Snow on the ground

It’s a winter wonderland

We  sate our thirst on that sweet,

chocolate nectar

that already fills our bodies, 

Creating a cozy contentedness

Children shrieking gleefully,

ecstatic at the sight of their first snowfall. 

They marvel at the crisp cotton-like flurries

Coming down,

as lightly as a million feathers atop their small heads

Which are caressed by velvety wool caps

Lovingly knitted by careful grandmothers

Young lovers are gaily laughing under the mistletoe

Enjoying each others’ presence

Without a care for the troubles tomorrow may bring

Indifferent to judgmental, wandering eyes

Grandparents lovingly nurturing their small grandchildren

The warm smell of soft sweet gingerbread

And old, clean leather nuzzling

the itty-bitty children

People building gargantuan, frosty, affable snowmen

Topped with an old beat-up top hat that’s been in one family for decades,

Fresh picked crispy carrots from Old Man Grady’s farm, 

Smoot covered coal, fetched from the railroad tracks

Across the street from the Town Square

And a scarf knitted in soft, bright colors

Gifted by a little blonde pig-tailed girl 

Who was maybe three years old

Warm gingerbread men

Baked by the kindest ladies you’re ever likely to meet

They all get together at the town church

And make Christmas food for everyone in the park

Carolers chiming like twinkly bells

Joyfully belting our favorite Christmas tunes

Parents drinking eggnog,

Conversing with each other while attentively watching their kids,

Cheering their children on during every hockey game,

Making sure no one gets hurt

People dutifully fulfilling their loved ones holiday wishes

Friends ice skating together,

Tripping over each others’ feet

And choking on their laughter

Happiness is what Christmas is all about






Paradise

My friends when I was younger asked me what paradise was to me.

At the time I was in it.

I loved nothing more than my “friends” and our time together.

But, every time this question pops up, the answer always changes. 

But, while I’ve been gone,

I’ve noticed the one thing I took for granted.

I thought that this would be my paradise when I got here.

But, a week in, I felt like something that was missing.

I couldn’t tell what it was.

But, as soon as I hopped into my sister’s car,

I kissed my dad’s cheek,

I ruffled my little brother’s wiry poofy curls.

He slapped my hand away while laughing.

My dad couldn’t stop asking me questions and making sure I liked it

I remember asking my brother if my dad was okay

He laughed and said, “Yeah. Why are you asking?”

I remember grabbing my duffel and throwing it in the trunk, “Because he’s being so nice to me.”

At that time, I couldn’t fathom how much my family loves me. 

I thought that once I left,

That I was gone for good.

But, now that I’m seeing my family clearly,

I don’t want to go.

So, as I answer this question,

Which will undoubtedly change,

As it has so many times before.

My paradise?

My paradise is riding in the backseat of my dad’s truck

Listening to Black Sabbath, Pink Floyd, Metallica….

Laughing and just enjoying my family’s presence.

You’re Not A Monster

       Hey Babygirl,

It’s ok

You’re not a monster

 

They’re wrong about you

You’re not a demon

 

You have reasons for 

Behaving like this

 

You were sweet and naive and innocent

And that wasn’t good enough for them

 

So they chewed you up and spit you out

 

They created that nasty version of that sweet girl you are

 

And now they’re afraid of you

 

It’s alright

It’s ok

 

You won’t always be this broken forever

 

And until you are better,

I will be there for you everyday

 

To hug you

To kiss your head when you cry

To tell you that you’re not a monster

You’re just a sad blue little girl

 

Who was thrown to the wolves 

As a baby

Grew up there

And survived

You are striving to do the best you can

 

And I’m so proud of you

 

Love,

Mami

Is he enough to satiate my hunger for life?

I look at him

Our eyes meet

I look over him while we are out in public

Still debating

I have loved him for years

He was nineteen when we dated for the first time

I was sixteen

Both under pressure from supposed friends

I had no feeling for him the first year and a half

And 

All of a sudden 

I stopped thinking of my boyfriend as an imaginary guy who didn’t exist

And took notice of the one person who worshipped me like a goddess (literally).

A year and a half later

We’d decided to get closer as friends and wait to mature more

I’d wanted to wait until I’d graduated and because I have ambitions

I didn’t want to be tied down

He respects my wishes 

My sister is my idol

She was reluctant at first but after getting to know him loves him as a brother

Her disapproval was the main reason we broke up

Other than the friends sabotaging our relationship

I love him

I really do

But 

I spent years of my life hating everyone or having no emotions

How am I supposed to love him as deeply as he does me?

We’re both equally as broken

There are days when someone can say hi to us

and we sob for hours