Thursday, November 25, 2010


25 left.

A collaboration by Ubel and Spirit.

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In your arms, a place warm with known comfort, I long to return there. Your grip upon my bottom pulls me further onto you as you kiss my lips. I feel you here, I taste you so hot and soft. Oh my dear…I long for those words dripping from your lips. I speak the soft words to myself now and close my eyes. That was then and with me now.

The mountains that once comforted us, are gone. I see the desolation spread before me in a wide array of the diseased and decrepid. I cower away from the beggars touch and file onto the edge of the road behind a throng of nameless. I am unknown here too. My blonde hair contrasts with the common brown locks of every passer-by. Although I appear to be different, no one looks upon me and I admit to myself, my blood runs thick with their genes. I am not what I may seem, but yet, I am his. He keeps me close and holds me dear-even now. Even though he leaves me, I am not alone. The energy that passes through him, passes through me as well.

Meine liebe, I cherish you even now in my frigid lonliness.

On either side of the worn road are clumps of dirty snow. In ways, it appears to be blood and I do not know what this means. The sadness which wells up inside is unknown to me. The crowds which pass me on the road makes no sense at all in my teeming brain. My thoughts run rampant with questions and concerns. My heart pounds deeply and surely strong as i reach the gates of our home. Touching the stone, I listen for the peaceful thoughts of yesterday to save me. I hear nothing, nothing but distant orders and marching. Oh god in heaven, what is happening to me?

Pushing onto the latch, I let myself in, trying so very hard to ignore the screaming babies in the alley way. I cringe at the thought of being alone with myself. I walk through the foyer and onto the stairs. It is a steady walk, no hurry, a languid gate. I am aware that nothing can change. Each step I take reminds me of the

hours before the death of Eva Braun.

Sunday, November 7, 2010

She liked the lies he told…they soothed her, even in the darkness he created.

“Please don’t put me in the closet again. I promise to be a good girl this time.” Penny cried every time he put her in there. He would just shove her in without saying as much as one word. Then he slammed the door and locked it. Penny would sob for hours. The next day, he might let her out and feed her, maybe give her a hug and they would talk. Penny was happy again, as if nothing ever happened.

She used to get angry at him but he acted like he didn’t understood her anger. Penny would refuse to eat and she would sit in the corner crying. He would simply reply with…”Penny, is something wrong dear?” After several times of showing her displeasure; Penny simply gave up and allowed him to do as he wished with her. After all, she trusted him.

Then, as he usually did, he would take her in his arms and show her special love. Penny had grown to enjoy the special love. It was the times that he held her and whispered the lies into her ear that she enjoyed the most. Lie after lie after lie he poured into her little ear and she told herself it was the truth. She believed him and accepted what he said to be the gospel. After all, she told him about the past and all the horrible things that had happened to her. He listened to her stories and comforted her. Then he instructed her on how to fix her broken life. . But all this you see, were details whispered into her ear. He told her things that made the blackness go away, things that chased the ghosts from her hollow hurting soul and then, when she was so full of joy…he would lock her in the closet and leave her to scream. But even though he had to do this she knew he would never hurt her…oh no, never.

Penny refused to believe the truth. One time, when he put her in the closet, she found the truth. As she stared at its shiney brightness, it hurt her and so she closed her eyes. Penny wished it away and away it went. A beautiful lie replaced that ugly truth and Penny felt warmth again. Hours later, her keeper opened the door and helped her out. He smiled and kissed her cheek…but only as he described he would. He told her that she was the best and that she could tell him anything. “Thank you Penny.” he spoke softly in a language much like the written word…kind of like silence but Penny could hear him.

Penny smiled back and followed him once more to the scenario they had created.

innocent girl

Saturday, November 6, 2010

Do you believe in fairies?

A story that will make you question your beliefs, these photos, mostly fake, represent the childhood innocent curiosity in the magical world of 'make believe. Four photos taken by children in the early 21st century were fake, but a fifth photos is claimed to be genuine fairy activity.

This video from the antiques road show explains the story.

Friday, November 5, 2010


I sit in stillness

wide eyes; glassy, staring.

My dress is covered with dust

and my nails are painted pretty.

I see hands; they reach and grasp me

pulling me downward quickly…

I feel your touch, I feel your breath.

I feel your rough fingers

touch my face.

I smile etenally.

Eternally grateful for your affection.

I smile big and wide;

For it is what I was made to do.

Lay me down with you

and I shall close my eyes.

Kiss me gently…

I will not feel it, for I am cold.

At night you sleep

while I stare at my closed eyelids.

And darkness comes to blanket me.

It is here with me, it is my friend.

I do not dream.

I do not think…

I am .

When light cracks through the window

I feel different hands lifting me up.

I stare into a dim room

and you are gone.

I am back where I began.

Thursday, November 4, 2010

Dream on September 22,2010

Everytime I closed my eyes, the dream would resume.

I was accompanied by a woman and a man. The man worked in some office somewhere and there was a very important reason that we were all together. We arrived at an apartment complex and started to look for a certain apartment. It was on the lower level and was about the third or fourth apartment from the right. After finding the apartment that we thought was the right one, we knocked upon the door. When the very large black lady opened the door, we knew we were at the wrong apartment. That is when we noticed the neighboring apartments just down the way. So, we checked there.

We found the residence we were looking for. The tenents were ghosts and when we got to the right apartment's door, it was already open and waiting for us. We were to enter into the room and speak with those which had long since departed this reality. When we entered the room, the dead spoke.

He was tall, dark haired with green eyes. He spoke of voodoo practices which had taken his life. He had the likeness of Jake Gillenhall (Donnie Darko) wich was very odd. He knew me pretty well it seemed and thought I was attractive. He spoke as he flirted. We I had become quite overwhelmed with his presence, I stepped outside the apartment for a breath of air. When I stepped outside I saw a figure from the corner of my eye. I turned to my left to see a figure in al black fumbling with the door lock on the first ground floor apartment. It turned to look at me and when it did, I saw a skeleton face framed in red. Its fingers were bones and when it saw me, it ran behind the apartment complex.

Monday, November 1, 2010

I will not cry

fore it would be in vain

I feel the wound,

the scar, the stain

I feel your soul

so deep within

tied in knots with

mine and my sin

fused and made

in the love we made

in the thickest form

of the game we played

but I will not cry

In case you say goodbye

I will hold that thought

with the pain this wrought

I will smile with the task

behind my spirit mask

Lil Red

Lil Red
My furry beast...
Welcome to Spiritwalker

This sight represents my thoughts on what lies just beneath the surface of everything around us and our minds. A cosmic marriage of our selves with what is hidden underneath the surface of what is visible. Please feel free to use your imagination. NO further explanations are necessary.

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