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LJ idol week something-Fear is the heart of love [Sunday
January 15th, 2017 at 7:48pm ]
It hurts. Always. It hurt me-the fear and the love. The fear that I was an imposition-the retracting of my asking for someone else to take me home, undermining my independence. The anxiety of always wanting to know who would be responsible for me-even as an adult. The fear that someone 'out there' would take advantage of me, so keeping me away from social situations. The sending me to school where I was basically told that authority knew best-and I had no algebra in school. The fear of me being different, therefore 'bad'. I cannot think of anything more hurtful than the protectiveness of that love in which the heart of fear lies, for it is the hardest to break down; the most difficult to explain in words, in any language. For ultimately, it is love, but inside lurks the fear, the anxiety of what was programmed-the burden, the imposition, the gullability, and the noninitiative taker. The disabled one, in this case, myself, who is hurt and unintentionally belittled by it-made to feel less than what I truly could be, even as a person who is blind. Not the blind one who is a person. And trust me, there is a difference; in the former, the disability is but a small part of me; in the latter I *am* my disability. Please, for the love of the gods, treat me like the former; the latter just pisses me the hell of. KTHX. Entry for therealljidol Hope you enjoy; writing this from Florida.
The Phoenix Sings ‡ Silvery Notes 11

LJ Idol: topic 2: Through the many years [Saturday
December 3rd, 2016 at 4:38pm ]
"I'll never do that again!" (During a conversation about holding things in at her house.)"He said when the beat drops." (Us at a Kendrick Lamar concert in Columbus Ohio)

"It's easy for you to say that when you know where you're going." "'I can't imagine you that way.' That's what she told me." (Things said over the phone while I am in massage school about me and where I'm going vs. her family and her own support system.)

It started almost 26 years ago at the blind school; she was a year behind me. Through the ebs and flows of life, she is nearly the only one from the school I have regular contact with now. Oh, sure I have others-the guy who let me read his weird ass comics-the kid who bought me a Star Wars figure-the developmentally delayed half-Christion I fleetingly catch up whith who's in Ohio.

But she...she was the stalwart one, the one, who despite my jealousy at times because another mutual friend got to go to her hous and I didn't, Who stayed with me. Through the ill-fated, ill-timed trip to Denver, through the college years when most friendships fall apart, through the first move to Indiana. Through the job there-the job I left to go to Denver, and subsequently never regained.

Oh certainly there are other friends-the other two in Ohio who are nearly like a sister and brother to me still despite drama that happened as a result of Denver; the friend in Louisiana who gets me nearly as no one else does-the other boy in Ohio that I talk to on occasion when I can remember to hit him on messenger or skype-they have all made impacts.

But her. She tells me the truth-even when I don't want it; she is the Devil's advocate that my Dad would be sometimes-she is the one who introduced me to about 40 percent of the music I listen to despite my mother's saying she's a bad influence (Which Mom no longer thinks is the case; she now appreciates this friend and calls her a 'good friend'.)

She is also the one who has taken me to about half the concerts I've been to at this point. Granted she wasn't the transportation to some of them-the Columbus one mentioned briefly for instance, and a John Legend one we went to in FLorida after a Blindness convention we went to, but she has been the financeer for a lot of them, and I will be eternally grateful for this-more than words could ever express.

And last week we completed our seventh incarnation of the start of the Christmas season where we pull out battery operated Christmas toys to a backdrop of Christmas music on her home theater system, and I just about cried when I realized how much we had been through together, and how empty my life would be without her in it. I pray that one of these days I will be able to pay it forward-even if it turns our to be in a way I never would have imagined in my wildest dreams.

This is my entry for week 2 of therealljidol I hope you enjoy.
The Phoenix Sings ‡ Silvery Notes 5

LJI season ten: Topic1-the afterlife [Wednesday
November 23rd, 2016 at 1:19pm ]
It is always there, the abyss. There's nothing to look at-you can't even see yourself, all you see is empty black space. You lean into it, hoping, praying you might see yourself reflected in it, but all you have is more blackness-then the thoughts start. 'it's hopeless, hopeless' it whispers in your brain-but how did it' find it's way in? You didn't let it there, but you keep leaning- maybe if you lean a little further you can find a mirror and see you...just maybe you can find yourself there.

"When's it going to end!" The voice of someone you love screams it in your ear on the phone. You don't know. You tell her this. Every other day you've had to ask her for money, for help, for something. You feel like a bad and neglected child for it-a horrible one. A fucking horible person. A failure. Something else for the abyss to latch onto 'yes,' it says. 'You will always be...'

Now it pulls at you. 'come, you know it never will. It won't end-you must make it end now. Now before it is too late, and this reality is yours forever. You will never be financially stable again; you know this. I know this. It's hopeless... You lean into the words. Only you can hear them. No one else hears them, or so you think. The abiss begins to surround you, you start to become it-alone, it says. You will always be alone... it begins to color your world. Grey now, all you see are shades of gray...some black at the edges but mostly gray. There is the occasional break-but even that only does so much, then in creaps the darkness again, the black and opressive silence...alone. The animal helps-the purr seems to pull you back some, and you cuddle him, the few tears you feel you are alowe find their way into his fur, and he licks your fingers. You are glad to have him-it would be so much worse without him there, so much.

You wonder, though, when even he won't be enough...

You stand by your medicine cabbinet wishing for the pain killers (Mild ones, alleave, asprin, exedrine) you do not have. You wonder if it's worth spending some of the money you don't have to go get them. Then you realize you literally have none. You are overdrawn.

But then the voice of rationality comes to you, soft and true, and the gods you have, come. You can see your patron, his antlers are in your head, he is pleading with you. 'don't make me take you with me' he says.

You look at him. There's a sadness in his eyes-there's a vague sense of loss-he would lose you here. The chance to turn you around-whoever you is now.

You turn back to the medicine cabinet, ignoring Him for the moment. You put your hand on the mirror, wishing for something, anythimng to make it end. Anything.

'That's it...' The abyss is nearly upon you now; you've leand so far in, that it's gotten in your thoughts, and you hadn't really even realized it, so intent were you on trying to see yourself in its darkness, but now its darkness is you; you're it now, or very nearly. Your world turns nearly black-you don't wish to do anything but stand there in front of the mirror-which unbeknownced to you, reflects you profile back at you.

'Don't make me have to...please don't make me have to do this...' He cries the words-and there's still enough in you that you can hear him, though at this point you can't quite remember His name-who He is-He's just a voice, a pleading one. An insistent one.

Missed...this isn't him, but you. You will be missed, you realize this. You realize that your mother would be devistated, your friend would be torn to pieces-you would leave this behind you-the fact that you committed this...act, this...ending. Which really wouldn't be one, would it? It would just...make things worse, so much worse. Just a different sort of hell. A diferent sort of darknes-or pain, maybe. Pain? ... Why? Why would you want to cause that sort of pain...what did they do to deserve that. Even from you; especially from you.

But it's hard to pull yourself out now, little by little, you try. You manage it, but the abyss still whispers every once in a while-but you know now. You know because you've been there-and you thank your deities that you had nothing to finish the task with. They knew what they were after-and that was you remaining. Always.

Entrant one for week 1 of thereallljidol I hope you enjoy this, so far as you can.
The Phoenix Sings ‡ Silvery Notes 5

So the first of many-Intro [Thursday
November 10th, 2016 at 3:40pm ]
I've been around a bit, I suppose.

To Denver and back; Florida, Arkansas, Mainly for family visits growing up)Indiana (Where I am now) and through several states while on family vacations.

I've lost a lot, friends, my beloved guide dog, some other things, but I've gaind so much. Life lessons that some gain in their twenties, I gained im my thirties.

I still feel like I'm behind my peers on so much. I see people with lives, families, kids, and I wonder when it will be my turn; when will I have the one(s) ment for me.

I am still me, b ut more now. I am exploring things I never thought possible, and am still learning things about myself I never thought possible.

Including the fact that intros of the traditional sort are way too boring for me. LOL

This is my introduction for therealljidol It is lnontraditional. Just as I am.

-Phoenix~
The Phoenix Sings ‡ Silvery Notes 18

I must be insane. Right? [Thursday
November 10th, 2016 at 1:53pm ]
Oh wait, according to some, I am-I guess it just depends on who you ask. Besides, this'll give me a chance to dust off this old barely used space. Not so bad a thing, I would think.

So there is this: LJ Idol season 10

Count me in.

-P~
The Phoenix Sings ‡ Silvery Notes

Dear good people of LJ [Saturday
January 5th, 2013 at 10:40pm ]
I am back after a too long absence to find:

1) a few people have gone by the wayside; one of whome I shall miss. I suppose it was due to the unused account; thanks LJ for installing a virtually unusable audio captia. :( and thank you to good friends who help a Phoenix out.

2) You all have been busy. o.o I do not think, due to said long absence I will be able to catch up on everyone, though I will do my best.

3) Happy birthday to those whose birthdays are today; and a belated (or early) birthday to those I have missed...and those who are in the future. :d

4) This service apparently has been having issues. It's a good thing I have somewhere else to go )Even though this post is LJ exclusive) otherwise I might not *be* a very happy Phoenix right now.

I have mixed feelings on everything LJ. While I enjoy it here )Obviously, despite the long hiatis) I am not liking the seeming inaccessibility of many of the features, and everythings to be changing so much that I don't een recognize LJ anymore. Dreamwidth on the oter hand has been noghing but fantastic, and I will shamelessly promote them, even here.One of the main reasons, however, that I keep this thing around, other than the fact I have a permanent accout, and bought it just befor LJ took it's first crap, is for people, unlike me, who don't like, or find, Dereamwith confusing.

I said I wouldn't abandon this thing, and I won't, but it has crossed my mind a few times to shut this ship down and go completely and utterly DW, and come here underan open ID. I don't, and ultimately won't, due to the afore mentioned enjoying what I see here and people finding Dreamwidth confusing or not liking it.

I will fly, for now, for if I do not, I fear we shall be here all night, but I did want to poke my beak back in and sing a bit for those who have missed me. :)

-Phoenix
The Phoenix Sings ‡ Silvery Notes 10

{public} signal boost [Sunday
September 4th, 2011 at 2:53pm ]
A firefighter friend of mine needs help.

This individual's fire station is an all-volunteer non-profit station and they are concerned with funding for equipment needed.

If you wish to help, here are a few ways to do it:

This individual is selling paintings from their deviant art:mirangel.deviantart.com,
or you can paypal a donation to: conductorofstars@hotmail.com.

If you paypal donations, please put "firestation donation" or something similar in the subject line of the message.

Also, pass the word around if you can; I know I don't post here much but this was just too importtant to me to pass up.

Thank you so much! :)
The Phoenix Sings ‡ Silvery Notes

LJ Idol Home edition: Week 22: The stars, they honor us [Friday
April 16th, 2010 at 9:47am ]
She stood behind the elderly gentleman, a comb in one hand, her other resting on the back of the Little guy who was never far from her these days. Both of them were nearly alone with him, save for the grey-eyed man. For this day, he'd chosen the leathers that matche them: Usually he didn't.

"You're a good woman, Shalea." The man's voice was absent the vigor it used to have, and she knew: New, even if it pained her to, that he would not be here much longer. She rested the comb against what was left of his once luxuriant, if rather short-kept hair and nearly let out the tears she was holding back.

"Thank you, Merkuso. It...that means a lot, coming from you." She was glad that her voice betrayed none of the emotion she was holding back, except for perhaps a slight tremor: A tremor only Tristen could here. He gave Shalea a bit of an odd look-worry perhaps? But did no more than that. He knew better than to out her. Especially here, here in the semi-privat quartters shared by the pair who ruled here.

"You have been a good student: I am proud of you. I had not thought you would learn this much in such a short peariod of time, Little Singer. Little Songbird. Little Dusk Rose, ... Little Fallen star..." He trailed off. The names: They were enough. Enough. For now.

She smiled,then blinked. The names-all of them-he'd given her. Everyone, including the one he said he would never speak aloud to any but those he trusted most. It must mean that the pair were somewhere near by, and their friends. The trusted two that were never far from said pair...or he would not have said them. Not aloud, anyway.

She could no longer hold back the tears, and it was the first time...the first ever time that she actually cried and combed her tears into the hair of the person whom she was working on. No...no, that was not true, there had been two perhaps three other instances, but none like this. None with such power, such emotion.

For just a brief space of time, the man's hair was back, falling to his shoulders this time instead of merely to his chin. For the briefest, all too briefest, of moments, it was as if he were not the weakend man he had become, but the strong one Shalea remembered.

"Merkuso." Her voice broke and she bent to hug him, kiss his cheek, then rise again. "I shall miss you. Miss you horribly..."

Merkuso took her hands in his own. "Do not grieve for me, Weaver of tales. I will not be away long. I promise."

"I-I will still miss you. Your gentle firm guidance..."

"Which you have from the Man here." Merkuso said quietly.

"The way you showed me your world..."

"Which comes from those here, not least of wich is the Lady."

Shalea sighed and closed her eyes tightly, but not before he saw the doubt in them.

"I will be back, Little Rose. DO you not trust me?"

"I-I do." Shalea, greatful for having chosen leathers she could crouch safely in had shifted to fase him. His chare was a low one, but made so he could slide his legs under it, if he chose, so that it seemed that they ended at the knees.

He was sitting that way now, with his hands folded in his lap. A serine look on his face that belighed the sadness in his eyes. He could not wait. He had hoped to give it to her at a later time, but he could not wait. "Then have faith, Little Fallen Star. Have faith that I will return. In the meantime, have this. TO remember me by."

He held out a silver band, a clasp at each end. He had had it specially made for her. It held hints of what she was, who she was, who and what she could become. Little starlight fires danced through it as he held it out for her.

She blinked. This was no ordinary band: It was silver with bits of magery inlayed as carefully as the wood carver inlays chips of precious woods into the bases of his works. As finely crafted as the emerald encrusted dragons the jeweler who worked this particular area was fond of making. She took it, again glad that she had chosen to wear her hair in a long, nearly elaborate braid. It would fit perfectly in the space in the middle, or even at the bace near her head.

She knew what this ment: He had the highest respect for her: The highest esteem...and he was truly, deeply, utterly proud of her.

She broke then, and he let her cry herself out on him. Did not stop her when she burrowe into him and held him-though it was technically a breach of edikit, even here.

He stroked back her own hair and placed one tender kiss on her forhead. "I bless you, Shalea, Lady of the Dustk, the Stars, and everything between. I bless you, Lady Twilight. Lady of the Night. You, Shalea, are the only one I have known of to surpass me in my lessons. For this, I give you my gifts...my gifts when I leave. As a sign of my respect and trust for you, my highest esteem."

She blinked, then nodded. Then kissed him in return. "Safe journeys, Elder Teacher." She whispered back. "Be well...be safe, and most of all, be happy where you go. I shall miss you...wait for your return. I will think often of you. I promise you this."

She rose then, turning to Tristen, who now was having his own issues with holding in check his emotions. He had not known they had meant that much to each other. Had not realized what it meant for them to honor each other this way.

He guided her from the room, guided her out just before the attendants came to put him to bed once more...lead her out for the last time.

The last time, he knewe, though Shalea did not...not until much, much later.

Home game submition for therealljidol. Thank you for reading.
The Phoenix Sings ‡ Silvery Notes 20

lj idol home game: To thine own self be true [Tuesday
March 23rd, 2010 at 5:28pm ]
how do you know, sir, if you are of one mind? The question was asked in a bored tone. Shalea stood leaning against the wall. Her guide animal wrapped itself around her feet waiting for just the right moment to spring into action. He was an interesting mix of fox, cat, otter and something else no one new about. About the size of a teen-ager, he walked on two legs, and had a special harness off-set so that he could guide his lady around with solumn dignity. He had the intelegence of an adult, but was still child enough to think of this as a game of follow the leader. Where he was the leader, and she the follower, and enough brains to follow her directions unless things went shit-halling, in which case he knew exactly what to do.

She adored him: He adored her. It had taken several tries for one of Shalea's friends to procure him. It was a relief when it happened. Shalea had been much less proned to walking into people's personal space, and moved faster and lighter on her feet after. Whoever's idea it was to have her without him...well, that was pointless now.

"You find the courage to go within." Tristen answered Shalea. He stood across the hall and to the right of her. His dark hair was pulled back today. His leathers covering parts of him he didn't want others to know about. "Then you sort out what's inside and what isn't."

A lady dressed in green robes raised her head to look at him. "But that doesn't answer the question, does it? How do you know? Where is the line? When does the scale tip, and you realize that...ho shit I have more than one mind in me? What would make me believe without a dout's shadow that *I* would have with me, more than one mind? More than one worldview?"

"observation." Tristen replied. "There are times when observation is key. Write, analyze. There is more than one way to find out from whence your thoughts come, after all."

"Is there?" The green-clad lady looked to Shalea for confermation. She felt self-conscious now. She had thought she'd felt stirrings, but she wasn't sure, and she didn't want to risk it...not here. Not in a place were oddities, even if they were somewhat accepted, were still looked askance at. Whispered about.

"There is." She nodded."Also the library might be of some use. I did manage to find this there, after all. I was actually surprised and more than a little pleased when I did."

The man in the chair at the front of the room watched with a musement. He couldn't help smirking when Shalea dropped the magically enhanced sheets in front of the green-clad writer. Satisfaction at how this was being handled showed briefly in his eyes before he masked it again.

The green-clad lady took the scroll and blinked at it. "I had no idea." She said softly. She would read it later, but just now she looked at Shalea and Tristen who was still standing across from her. She blinked as she put two and two together-and came to the conclusion of four. Blinked when they both raised their fingers to their lips in unison. It was all the green-clad one could do not to gawk.

Not to gawk at the both of them for sharing this part of themselves with her. It was then-and not for the first time, either-that she felt honored by them-somehow trusted by them. "Is...is there anything else?" She asked just loud enough for their ears only.

Shalea nodded. "There is. Much more. Remember, though that the experiences are all different. There is a reason many people call them the subjective realms. It is not all proof in hard facts. You must trust your own self, too. Trust your accuracy." Like she had room to talk, Shalea thought. Even now she was struggling with this. While she was speaking, Shalea managed to sneak the robed lady another, much larger scroll that contained even more information on the subject under discussion. It might have been long, and perhaps a bit bulkier than Shaliea had intended, but it was worth the bulk. Every bit of it

The woman in green gaped at the weight-but did nothing more than pass it off as gaping at the unexpectedly handsome lad that had managed to wend his way between her and the two she had been conversing with. She had also managed to hide it well in her robes by the time she stopped gaping, and winked at both Tristen and Shalea.

"Time for dinner, don't you think?" The robes rustled as she shifted to stand just a bit straighter, "It is getting a bit late after all. Shalea, Tristen? If you are not being entertained, my abode this eventide?"

Shalea and Tristen spared one glance for the front of the room, before bowing and taking their leave: Tonight was well worth the discussion-and would be well worth the food.

Submitted for the home game of therealljidol Thank you for stopping by.
The Phoenix Sings ‡ Silvery Notes 22

Lj Idle home edition: Run, don't walk [Tuesday
January 19th, 2010 at 12:56pm ]
It's not often that I watch Craimar with the young fliers; it's not often he lets me. In this case, though it was two perhaps three of the inn's children. It isn't often he allows this because he , though he won't admit it, adores children. And this is a trait he doesn't show often, even to those he trusts most; it is one of the things he keeps close to him, very close to him indeed.

One of the treo of children walked to the edge of the flier's arena-and jumped. Only to be caught by him.

"No, little one, ya go too slow at the start." He said gently. "Ya gotta take arunnin' start. Run, don't to be walkin'. Ya walk, and they not be 'nuff wind to be carryin' ya like."

"But-I'm scared." It was a small boy. Not much beyond five or six. Or...physically, anyway. I had the sense, that inside, he was two or three years older than he appeared.
"Aye, so was I when I was to be first learnin', and trust me I was to be bein' much older than ye're to be bein' now. Ya gotta go fast, though, or ya fall, like ya were almost to be doin' then because ya can't to be snappin' your wings out like Ya see your elders are doin', hmm?"

I heard the deep breath, then, "O-Ok." I could hear it in the child's voice, the nervousness, the fear, the anxiety.

But then I heard it. He'd gone back and began to walk, then to jog....

Then to run. Faster and faster and then...

Then the jump, and he seemed to fall straight down, down and downd...

Then I heard it, the snap of little wings that had caught a current, and the woop and the laughter of a tiny voice. I'd been so caught up in the suspense and my own worry of the downward motion of the small boy's
journey into the skies, that I hadn't realize he'd come out of it until he was flying circles around Craimar and me.

~Se?~ The pride in Craimar's voice was evident as he waved up at the now soaring lad, ~See what happens when you run, and don't walk? You succeed in endeavors. Success,~ He said, and I got the sense he was speaking to mea now more than the child at this point, ~Is when you take the bull by it's horns and run with it. Run with it, not walk; if you walk you will get trampled. If you run, you will have a better chance at outstripping it;outsmarting it. Then you will look back and know that you did well; very very well indeed.~

This is my home game submission for therealljidol. Thank you for reading.
The Phoenix Sings ‡ Silvery Notes 15

question for semagic users [Monday
January 18th, 2010 at 1:22pm ]
I can still see my old journal: florida_phoenix in the user list. Other than hiding it, is there any other way to remove it completely from said login list?

Thanks in advance.

Phoenix
The Phoenix Sings ‡ Silvery Notes 3

mrrr lj fail [Saturday
December 26th, 2009 at 3:16pm ]
[ mood | aggravated ]

Ok...so I told the rename service not to remove everybody and it looks like it did. I'm sorry. :(

If I knew it was going to be this much of a thing I'da had someone in herewith eyes to make sure I was doing things Ok.

So those of you who get adds from thepheenixeyri...you know who it is.

-P

The Phoenix Sings ‡ Silvery Notes 8

heads up people... [Saturday
December 26th, 2009 at 2:41pm ]
thepheenixeyri

formerly: florida_phoenix

ETA: take 3. Sorry yall. This was sort of an in-planning decision...executed today. :d

Merry after Christmas present.
The Phoenix Sings ‡ Silvery Notes 2

Via shadowwolf13 [Monday
December 21st, 2009 at 12:55pm ]
Go forth and spread the love for christmas. You know you want to.

Instructions are in above post. :)
The love needs spreading!

<3 <3

Phoenix
The Phoenix Sings ‡ Silvery Notes 6

lj idol week 8: Reprobate [Sunday
December 20th, 2009 at 12:22pm ]
My mother. Reprobate (Used as "strong disapproval")and worry. Those should be her names. Perhaps it is an overexaggeration, but I sometimes feel as I will not be free of her influences. Even if I leave the house; she will always reprobate me for something.
normal? what the hell is this?Collapse )
My friends are *mine* not hers. If she wants to reprobate me for them, so be it. It only means that I will become closer to them because I will spend less time with *her* as terrible as that sounds. My friends are the family I choose; when I choose, I care about you. And...I never stop caring. Ever.

This entry was written for therealljidol for the topic: Reprobate. Thank you for reading.
The Phoenix Sings ‡ Silvery Notes 29

LJ idol week 7: One touch [Saturday
December 12th, 2009 at 9:35am ]
It hung in the air like a silvery thread, like the vibration of a bell that had been struck. The next followed, then the next.

I turned my head at the first touch of the silvery sound on my ear and began to move toward it, drawn as a moth to a flame. From that first silvery sound, I had known what the instrument was: The celtic harp. I didn't much care that Mom was asking me what I was doing: The spell of the instrument had caught me, and I *had* to find out who played so beautifully now. It was all I could do to keep from singing when I got to the player: She was performing a song I recognized.

***

I had been waiting for the bus on a Friday at FGCU and walked into the student union, and stopped to rest for a bit: My suitcase was not the lightest thing to carry. Even if it did have wheels.

Then I heard it: The thrum thrum thrumming, and began to walk in ttime with the beat of it, barely aware of my own movements until I was nearly upon the player of the drum itself. My thought on my way there was how very good he was, and I would one day like to play like him.

***

These are two examples of friendships that have beecaune because of the touch of music. Perhaps I shouldcall one an acquaintence: I have never again met the drummer.

The harp player however: I now see her once a year, every year, at a Ren Faire down here.

From that one touch of the harp she held, came the warm glow of a friendship, one that, though we don't see each other much, I consider very dear to me. She and I will sing, sing together every year, and it is just amazing, and is one of the high lights of my year.

This entry has been written for therealljidol Thank you for reading.
The Phoenix Sings ‡ Silvery Notes 17

Thanks are in order... [Monday
December 7th, 2009 at 2:23pm ]
Iwould like to send outa thank you to regeneration for theveirtual gift. :) I was not expectingit, and it was awesome, so thank you.

Also happy birthday to thos I've missed; I sincerely appologixe for that. I hope you all had awesome days.

Phoenix
The Phoenix Sings ‡ Silvery Notes

[lj idol] week 5: means to an end [Thursday
November 19th, 2009 at 8:38am ]
Dear Shamor,

They say I bore false witness to the death that happened about a month ago. They say my account was off. They say by doing what I did, I have only made things worse for me.

But...it wasn't. You know this. It was true, all of it.

But they say doing it, and witnessing it aren't the same things. Witnessing it from the sidelines is different, they say.

But I did witness it. I witnessed him as he drank the cup I gave him, as he laied out on the ground and drew the final breath he would take in this world. As his body went limp in the forever sleep of death...And I revelled in it.

And as I walked away I knew I had done the right thing by doing what I'd done.

But now they have me for purgery because they say my account of watching him die from another's hand is false. I hear the stories. They say I was trying to escape the law, escape justice. They say horrible things about me.

Eye witnesses say they saw me do it. I did it. But I can also bear witness to *watching* it, can't I? There's no difference between giving and recieving the gift of what you've given...is there? Is there not a time where you may give and recieve at once?

The witnessing is the same no matter the activity in question, isn't it? I suppose being inside doing it is the difference...but for me, it was delicious.

Absolutely fucking delicious.

Submitted for therealljidol.
The Phoenix Sings ‡ Silvery Notes 16

[Lj Idol] week 4: Moments of devistating beauty [Thursday
November 12th, 2009 at 11:14am ]
It was just turning night, and I lay by my window breathing in the changing air. The scent, if that's what you could call it, from the leaving day, mingled with the coming night, and I drunk it in as others might drink in the changing from the light to dark. The wind was still, yet cold, and since it wasn't blowing, I daired to have my window open to it, laying with my face pressed against the screen, eyes pressed against it, even though I couldn't see. Outside the snow fell, hissing like so many butterfly's wings through the trees, then down onto the cold hard ground, and across the leaves that still lay lifeless and once dry. Still dry, as the snow was the type that while still wet, didn't feel that way. the few flakes that landed on the screen were small enough to light on my cheeks and make them sting a little; I didn't care. It was the only sound I heard for a long while. The silence of the night broken only by The snow coming to earth and piling outside my windo.
I lay there listening to the hiss of it, the quiet sound it made as it hit the ground, then piled on top of itself. I kept thinking that this night couldn't have gotten any bettter: this was the most awesome thing in all the world...

Then the lone owl hooted, long and low and gray. Shadows of wisdom that nearly lost themselves in the quiet hiss of the snow itself. It was then that I knew I had been wrong....

So so very wrong: The night had just gotten infinitely more awesome.

This is my submition for week for of therealljidol on the topic: Moments of devistating beauty. Thank you for reading.
The Phoenix Sings ‡ Silvery Notes 27

[lj idol] week 2: Uphill both ways, barefoot [Friday
October 30th, 2009 at 5:46pm ]
I lay back in bed listening to "Jack and Jill" Only it wasn't a CD: it was a record. One of those flexible kind the Library of Congress sent out with Magazine subscriptions. Eric liked Ranger Rick. So did I for that matter, though even then I'd never admit to that. The year was nineteen eighty-five: I was in Kindergarten.

****

The braille Writer sat in front of me. I was in 2nd grade, and was writing out spelling centences. I would have strong hands from this, or would I? I'd been using a Perkins Brailer ever since I was practically in Kindergarten. The noise hasn't changed, even to this day, even with the newer electric Braillers.

***

I hooked up the Braille N speak to the printer and was elated when I didn't have to scribe stuf to someone anymore: I could do this all on my own. It was something that would last a while then fade. I was a senior in high school then. This was my first foray into technology that made me seemingly like everyone else. I could turn my homework in in print, like the rest of my sighted friends and peers.

***

But the real battles didn't start there. They started in college. I know what it's like to have, and not have. I'm in the generation that actually knows what the flying frak a record is. I'm in the generation where CD's were introduced. I'm in the generation where we still had to...

Click ! the tape stopped as I wrote down the quote for my paper, hoping to God that I'd gotten the punctuation right. Rewinding to make sure I heard it write, editing in the few words I'd forgotten, then rewinding it to catch the page number the quote was on. It was 2000 and I was still in Indiana, going to Indiana university north west. I had a computer! My very first computer! I had books. I had internet. But the internet was dialup. The computer was one of the first pentium 3's Where the MHZ's were still in the nine hundreds and 512 RAM was just being introduced as was the 56K modems. My JAWS (Job Access With Speech) version was 3.7. I was on the computer a lot, but then I was more a writer/editor back then than I seem to be now. My novel about a girl who lived free in Chicago was one of the main things on my mind. Publishing had never once entered into my mind: My writing was my escape. I didn't do near the role play back then as I do now. Or not on such a large scale.

***

Fast forward to three years later, and now I'm at FGCU. FGCU who had a T1 connection. FGCU who had an adaptive Services Office who handled getting my books for me. In electronic or CD format. FGCU that had online databases that I could pick through then Coppy/paste quotes out of the articles I wanted. No more worrying about trying to get punctuation right. No more having to worry about whether or not I misspelled an authors name; I could just paste that, too.

No more waiting for the slowness that was dialup to pull up a page. Now it was only seconds and it was there. I got spoiled by FGCU in a lot of ways. There would be *no* freaking *way* I would be going back to dialup after that...no way in hell. It was bad enough that I had to put up with it durring the summers of the years I was there. After graduation? No more dialup.

No more having to carry a record player around: Now it was a CD player I needed to worry about: A Telex Scholar that could read RFB and D books, MP3 CD's and regular ones, too. No more having to rely just on tapes for my notes: Out comes the trusty PAC (Personal All-purpose Computer) mate, and I could type with the best of them.

---

In some ways I feel bad for some of the younger generations of blind kids out there. They're not on the cusp of the generation like I am. They'll never realize what it's like, unless they advocate for themselves, to do homework the way we did, worse yet, they won't realize what people even older than I had to go through to get through college. Many of us, myself included, had to climb uphill both ways, barefoot in order to keep up with our sighted peers. We have to do things more carefully, better, seemingly faster, stronger, than them in order to be recognized by them as even being half a person, a being with half a brain. Even then it doesn't work but half of the time. We are often seen as "amazing" or "superpeople" for doing what we do, when all we do is do things differently. Sure it may take us a bit longer (Although in some instances that is not the case at all) but at least we get it done. At least many of us are willing to try.

We grow tired of trudging the hills, but we continue to do it because it is what we must do in order to strive to be the best many of us can be, it is what we must do if we wish to survive to become productive members of our society, our comunities, and our world.

this my entry for week 2 of therealljidol thank you for reading
The Phoenix Sings ‡ Silvery Notes 29

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