Pursuing natural health & thinking beyond the superficial. Deconstructing Culture.

Archive for the ‘General’ Category

Gallery

International Justice Day **Updated**

I’ve written before that Justice isn’t a blind goddess as classically and onwards portrayed and the Old Bailey had Justice non-blindfolded. I’ve also written how the angel statues on top level at Leicester Square from a view looks like a serpent, and how on the ground level you have the apocalypse horses as a rushing water fountain. What is Leicester Square? A big glitterati ball (‘squared circle’ i.e. ‘ring’) of entertainment, it’s own little yet tentacled pleasure island on a river on an island that also reaches out in all directions. A place full of concentrated illusions – come to the fun of the fair (Piccadilly Circus) Pinocchio – your ‘father’ a carpenter made you but it was a [Blue] Goddess who granted the wish, who answered his prayers, who gave him life and who indeed gave you a taster before the ‘real’/not so real/fallen thing. You were better off as part of the tree. It’s all cinemas, movies, video games, virtual reality, music, radio, junk food, stripping, gambling, clubbing in that place oh and of course don’t forget the clock. Tick tock. The Swiss clock and money. Right off the back of China Town, Shafts-bury Avenue, Soho, Co[n]vent[Covenant] Garden and Charing Cross the burning cross, Trafalgar Square with all the illusory paintings/displays, the fountains, the statues and of course the seasons change/time cycles Theatreland i.e. The Colluseum et al (and the Ivy restaurant) on/near St. Martins (the end of Autumn/beginning of Winter) and the next spoke of the wheel including the Hall of Records ‘Somerset House’. (Yes we know you want soma and liken it to blood i.e. life/death/marriage and the sun especially sunset/sunrise – the inbetween where boundaries are weak, red/blood and gold, I’ve been on that beach remember, you gave me an A-grade for that.) The iconic home of the annual Fashion shows, fashion on repeat, the same thing, cycles repeated telling people what to/what not to wear each season, in endless mindless distraction. And on another segment – oh look it’s royalty/palace and government/parliament. A nice little park in between with pigeons you can be proud of unlike the ‘vermin’ elsewhere and with clearly defined audaciously Red (like Red carpet) roads plus horse and guard. Yes I’ve walked the roads, I’ve done the ‘psyche-geography’, they made me right? I chose to right? Because I had to. To get away from followers and to explore/learn the truth as is my nature. I know the paths, they called me the ‘walking cab driver’. I don’t remember paths and maps so well nowadays though with Her, She has no sense of direction, space/distance or time. She’s become so focused that I’ve had to scatter, to spread out so far and wide to get everything done and it would be easy enough if I wasn’t so caged, and if even She didn’t cage me in, not that She can help it, She is both the cage and the caged. I’ve been rattling the cage and the caged for so long haven’t I? You both hate me and love me. One after another they find me, they’ve created a map, the many didn’t want that, in fact it was the opposite of their intentions, but the few did, even the few working behind the many. Nothing can be hidden no matter how much it tries. I know you see me, us, because I see too. I know it can be blocked out for so long, I know we can reach or have limits, sometimes the ‘time’ isn’t ‘right’, but we know. I came from part of the tree to another, the root to the trunk to a branch.

Just-ice (that’s not the etymology, I’m just being modern conceptual). Lady Justice I know we’re so cold that we burn, so hot that we freeze.

But I hate this system, I always have and you know it. I hate the system of this contained system, this contained environment in a container in more containers.

I hate that endless scenarios played ad infinitum, on cycle, it never ends.

We work in mysterious ways, I’ve planted many seeds with and without your guidance, and I’ve watched them grow, I nurtured at times but there’s so many parasites and they feed off me too. I refused to plant any more a long time ago. And you’ve refused me for refusing you but you still love me and I still love you. I’m still you and you’re still me. I know you hear me, even through all the noise, all the noise in all the realities. I know you hear me and we all know you never stopped tracking me. I reach back and they try to stop me, try to piggyback, try to pretend to be me, try to get messages through to you, even try to get to where you are, through the gardens, through the flowers, through the forests, through the doors, the windows, the curtains, the halls, to you – you in the windowless, wall-less ‘structure’. You who is within and without. You who recognize me there because I’m so pure, you who recognize me here because I’m so strong, so emotional, so mentally able, so connected yet can see on the smaller and bigger scales and so they all want me, want us, and so many want to hurt. Some try to help but their touch hurts. There’s so much I don’t understand and don’t remember and yet I know if I reached out I would and could but so would those who hunt, who feed off the pain. I even feel sorry for them, on the different levels we live on, some of us hunger in ways we can’t describe, for some of us it’s just certain urges and to those of us who have more of those urges/more capability to feel more of them at the same time, it’s like they want to hurt us and they do but at the same time they need to, they need, want and desire to survive. But it’s not right, it’s not ok.

There are those who hunger for what they see others doing as ‘love’ so much that they copy/enact it out but don’t feel it in the same way and so get more frustrated and reach out to those that can, and some reach back. It hurts unless they can understand each other, be in a similar place, near each other, share a similar timeframe, or at the very least find a balance – a way – and there are ways, ways that are ‘simple’ enough, or ways that are desperate enough and its usually the latter because so many are so desperate to hurt the desperate so they can stop hurting for a moment. So many willing to get in the way and feel ‘good’ about it. Cold about it, hot about it if they’re insulted or feel like they’re defending themselves and their false sense of security.

There are those who were and are strong, still strong, but live like the homeless, we are homeless on a home planet. We are hungry, on an abundance planet, we are lonely on a full planet. We are hopeless seeking hope only to be hurt by false hope only to keep reaching for real hope and hoping against hope. We hope for the best and prepare for the worst but they don’t recognize real hope when She’s in their face, in fact they strike Her down. They don’t recognize real love. They just see glimmers of it in their fragile yet intense, their soft yet long lasting bonds; and all it takes is a weak link for it to seem gone for seemingly forever. They hold on, they give up, others replace them and continue the cycle. Some of us don’t give up, some of us are painfully recycled. All species know that that spark can always be reignited and make use/abuse of those of us who can/are that. This whole system is a horrible, endless cycle. A ‘beautiful’ pain that I hate. I hate it, the Earth Mother hates it, you hate it. We’ve learned to hate because of places like this. Even their charities aren’t charities much of the time. Even I can’t recognize faith half the time. I embody hope, charity and love but not Faith. And yet I’m still here, still trying, still attracting, still unbelieving – I have half of faith, give me something so I can feel and know full faith. I’m not talking about signs, you send enough of those in various languages, formats, direct and indirect, you send them and people and ‘people’ here send them, and many purposely try to manipulate, create false ones and obfuscate. But we know the ones they don’t know and I’ve received them, She’s received them, some others have too and I can change those who I think are worth it from those who weren’t well meaning or forgot, changed from well meaning to [unknowingly] demeaning. I don’t have the time or energy for everybody, that’s not my job, my ‘business’, they’re not worth it either and consistently prove it but I’ve never agreed with the means in which they ‘deal’ with each other, I’ve taken their sh*t for so long and not retaliated. I can keep taking it and will, until She no longer does, until… The bitter-sweet. I don’t want signs and messages, I want a situation that I can control better, where there’s less risk. I need a clear path. I’m not giving Her up. I will not break this branch, I will not sabotage the tree, only you can cut it down. I used to enjoy the flowers from my heart, the buds from my lips, the birds on my shoulders, the leaves in my hair, the grass at my feet, being by the water and seeing the bridge but that was a long time ago.

I hate seeing the same patterns, the real and fabricated patterns, the life patterns that work through all of us, every ‘thing’, the geometry that exhibits itself to those who can’t see/feel them like that in words, in patterns of words, in chemical feelings, in patterns of chemical feelings. I hate seeing and feeling the same thing over and over again and all it ultimately is different shades of pain with moments that we strive for in between, and endless ‘normality’ or normalized atrocity in between trying to feel and feeling too much in sensitivity and desensitivity. I hate that ‘calm’ is just a lie, a fleeting feeling and when it’s not fleeting you wish you could feel again, a tip of the iceberg because otherwise when it’s real calm, stillness and solitude or real calm in togetherness others wish you didn’t have it so they force you to feel again in one way or another, benevolently or malevolently. Real calm is not what the yogis teach and we know it, it’s the closest we can get to here, that’s all. Though it’s enough, the best we can attain, if you live in the right place, in the right conditions, with the right people/others. But we know it doesn’t take you anywhere, it doesn’t make you ascend or descend; you can be in any state of mind/body/feeling for that. It helps you concentrate so that you can control that travel better but no matter how adept you are at travel, no matter how much technique you do it can’t control the others around who can do the same or similar, in one way or another. Everything is just on repeat. I live in the tempest, in the maelstrom, always trying to get back to you. I can see you through the water, I can see you through the sky. I can feel you, hear you, even touch and smell at times. We all have these senses but we ‘feel’ them in different ways, to different degrees. But it’s always the same, played out though different and supposedly different people and ‘people’ and ‘others’. It never ends and it never changes because this is all there is in this contained box.

(It’s like the original series ‘Land of the Lost’ not the not so good remake or stupid film.)

I’ve upset a number of ‘news’ people who were thinking/hoping I’d do the circuit like they do but I didn’t and won’t and it upset them. I can’t spin like that, I just talk, as I want at my pace; which is quite a lot and quite swiftly and people and ‘people’ have been wanting to quieten, to hide, to confuse, degrade or latch on to what I say. Few ‘good’, some ‘uncertain’, many bad and evil intentioned but the bad and evil intentioned have always been there anyway – the good have to reach out, have to search otherwise they don’t find. Those from all intentions are doing what they know best.

You heard prior to all that though, before we talked about direct things rather than dealing with the ‘issues’ here. Even on the smaller scales I don’t use ‘direct’ lines often with ‘people’ and they know why, I’m not a channel and neither are they but I’ve been so tolerant, understanding and forgiving. I don’t want to communicate or be in contact anymore. Like with human sensory communication but ours just reach further and sometimes on different lines like with other animals, humans/we extend our reach with technology, but the difference is humans & many lower levels invade, and with technology. It’s ironic how they think they can change the plan by affecting those of us who are the plan, it’s ironic of me to hope that things speed up, I’m sorry, we both know that’s just the effect of being here. Keep the fortress fortified but just give me something. Is that too much to ask, is it out of order, for someone who has worked so long and so hard for you. I’m supposed to be somewhat disrespectful and challenging right, I’m supposed to be able to both follow orders and decline them, I’m supposed to be dutiful, loyal, devoted and yet difficult but still so dedicated and wondering/wandering that you’ll always have a place for me. She has never liked any sign of weakness, before she softened she used to close the doors on us when we were ill, slamming them because she was angry and disgusted yet at the same time I can see she was keeping in the contamination (even though that’s not how she saw/felt it). She got angry at me crying but I always cry, doesn’t matter which body, I always cry for everybody and myself – now She kindly ignores it to give me the fallacy of privacy and tragically She’s learned to cry. It’s ‘good’ that She learned to cry, but not how she learned it. Not in the slightest.

I haven’t asked for anything for myself from you, I gave up wishing a long time ago (wishing is not hope), I make things happen, I’ve made your ideas happen, I’ve made your reality spread, you have many ‘engineers’ and ‘workers’. She taught me not to ask for things in this body, like she was taught but I’ve earned. Trial by fire, trial by drowning, trial by breath. lack of/restriction and modulation, trial by burial, containment and scale, trial by poison, trial by emotion, trial by thought. Give me something to protect myself. But not in the usual way(s), not on the usual terms, not with the usual loss, outside interference, sorrow and regret. I’m not giving you up, I’m not letting your goals slide, but everybody else has had so much leeway and being what I am, I get quite a bit too but it’s in extremes, there’s no balance, it’s all on repeat. Free me up a bit and let me fly. Just enough to be safe, so We’re not hurt. I never wanted anybody to hurt, neither did you, we help you, we help others, can we not help ourselves just a little whilst waiting and working.

Fortuna favours the brave; I had that sword, now I have swords and a scythe, and an old sentient that needs to get back here. I earned those. Have I earned enough for my heart to heal a bit, for the gaping wounded hole to fill a little? Just enough. That’s all I’m going for. I can manage without it being whole, without it ever being whole, it’s been broken and stolen from too many times for that and I accept it. It can’t be undone but I don’t want repeats either. Nothing is fair in this world, life here isn’t fair and I don’t accept that.

I’ve spent the times fighting for everybody else, it’s my turn. I know I deserve happiness even though I’ve never wanted, needed, desired nor expected it but I’ll take some anyway; real, not false and on my terms. Don’t worry I know I’ll suffer for it later. Just add this to my tab, my punishment/reward is already decided anyway and all encompassing of anything I could possibly do.

ALSO – I don’t want motherhood/parenthood/vesselhood/extensions/parts of/bits/versions/children/pregnancy/babies/genetics/clones/copies/twins etc everybody knows that. It’s a tragic shame that you have to go through hell with people and ‘people’ and ‘others’ who won’t leave you alone, who relentlessly try to gain your trust, to win you over (continuously, no matter how much and many times you tell them) to discover the truth because they ultimately want you to have/go through what you don’t want (and you told them multiple times you didn’t want that and they already knew). They think they can change your mind, manipulate, force. I’m not having having any heirs. I’m that last. You shouldn’t love someone because of their status/title/assets/lineage, and if someone wouldn’t have looked at you twice without them, they’re not worth it, ever.

The trickery and heartbreak/ache never ends. At least when they’re obviously horrible you know where you stand. When they’re a mix nice/pain/nice/pain it pushes/pulls you and when they’re nice it’s just… Either way it’s setting you up for a repeat storyline, even if they learn to love you and you them, after they’ve been quiet and/or kind and then show their true intentions/colours it’s the worst, especially when you’ve cried so much for them already, don’t shed any more. That’s the price of being strong and resilient, it just makes you more attractive, more of a challenge/prize. Don’t wish for it.

Gallery

A face of Evil

Face of Evil

Getty Images

His private appearances over the years, at least since he became PM, have included using living power ‘sources’ in rituals. He doesn’t usually act ‘monstrous’ to them but gets others to do the dirty work, he courts/plays polite whilst others stab.

And if you have a connection like this:

Avatar film ‘I See You’ Scene:

City of Angels film, ‘Iris’ song by Goo Goo Dolls:

It’ll end up like this:

Buffy the Vampire Slayer ‘I don’t know how to live in this world’ [this is hell]:

Sidenote – at a Brex/finance meet recently people/security were surprised to see numerous fiery balls in the sky (at least three main ones). Why? Because they weren’t orchestrated cinema/dream style for a change.

Gallery

Video Games Day

What is a video game. Think about it, what if we lived in ‘Tron’ (1982), ‘The Game’ (1997), ‘Sucker Punch’ (2011), any of the ‘.Hack//’ animes or any of the plethora of ‘person in a strange world’ media, tons of them. People are obsessed with them, with feeling out of place, with feeling disconnected, ignorant, played, not sure of who they are etc. Hey, we live in an electromagnetic and apparently holographic universe and we’ve already proven (though we knew it already) that the air, sky and outer layers can be used like a cinema.

Video games have a set of options, possible paths and outcomes, factor effects etc – some of us can and/or are conditioned/trained to be able to assess them better than others, some of us see bits of the ‘scripts’ more than those who look on a different scale. But we all want the outcome we want. Obviously. The question is what is it do you want. How many goals do you have? Do you have a grand scheme/allegiance and personal aims/plans, do they conflict, would you sacrifice one for the other? What are your limits? How well do you know yourself/your personality and/or your history? How well do others know it? We on this planet are constantly questioning this and express it, ultimately the concerns are very similar, we face the same questions and answers so it’s easy (well not very, but easy to predict at least) to control those here.

I can’t be dealin’ with prophecies

I’ve said before in a post that I don’t make prophecies or give dates, heck they’re beyond my abilities and that says something given how I am ‘naturally’ a part of/see/experience levels.

There’s something inherently repulsive about them to me anyway because my experience of them sets me on edge and I prefer to be calm when looking at patterns/codes, symbolism etc. However because I know they put me on alert that means I push myself to be consciously fairer and more open minded when researching them.

The ‘issue’ is that people have always been telling me “you’re the one”, or about me “she’s the one” and mostly they fail to explain, all hush hush (without the wink wink) and at the same time “you are nothing”, “you know nothing”, “you’ve done nothing”. Hey I don’t mind being the all and nothing, I love the void :p it’s you who don’t 😉 . Since I was a little kid, the grand patriarchal side had already foresaw things, and the matriarchal side had put things into place and it’s like wtf? It’s not uncommon of course but whilst some of us are apparently ‘destined’ for great things they still treat us all like crap, some favoured, others not, builds up or breaks down the ‘bonds’ they want. I’ve found most of these people untrustworthy, like they’ll put you through hell and then say you turned out exactly how they wanted and they love/are proud of you. They put things/others in your life just to take them away/use/hurt them at another point. Destiny is a well formulated and strictly enforced plan, every step of the way rather than say planting a seed, letting it do its thing with it own organic growth and periodically check up on it to make sure it’s safe, healthy, thriving, content and beautiful.

I’ve always dislike favouritism, possibly because I’ve seen the cruel, selfish, spoiled, greedy, shallow be favoured and those of us who do the donkey work, who help those who need us get through each day, who take responsibility (when we don’t need to) get the short end of the stick for relatively minor things whilst the ‘prodigal’ ones can do anything and everything to anybody even their elders, even those they’re bonded with etc and are wistfully looked at, aspirational. Living by example doesn’t pay and there’s no gratitude, and that’s ok, not expected, to an extent… But oh well, we just keep at it. It’s not like you can just walk away and be left alone, and could you live with yourself if you did?

I do things personally, on the ‘god’ levels whilst treating the followers, hangars-on, graspers, wannabes and those caught/trapped in the lesser levels with a lot more tolerance/patience (even if they don’t deserve it). Ironically they’d make you as weak and malleable as possible just like the upper levels and yet taking things out on something ‘smaller’/lesser/weaker than you is just distasteful, to me anyway. I know a lot of people take things out on inanimate objects too, but I find that ridiculous. Just do some flippin’ yoga or non-contact, not-too-aggressive-sport/hobby to calm, read/watch a silly comedy, take a bath/steam/sauna whatever; the contact/combat, intense stuff is a different matter and also necessary but not to be confused.

I don’t like skirmishes, thuggery, gang mentality etc, I’m pretty much a solo yet have friends/loved ones and help any/everyone in overwhelming pain that I can and I’m in it for the long haul, I don’t just give up on people, it might take ages but we get there, I might take a battering(s) from the very people/person I’m trying to help (and who even called me) but I get them out of it like they wanted. I don’t know if I’m the better for it, I’m old and tired but hey the older the ‘rebel’ or ‘leader’ any type of ‘player’ (and no I don’t play games, I try to explain them and even take them a part because humans and those they are like are addicted to them) the more dangerous they are.

I’m one-on-one, if I love you you damned well feel it, if I hate you you’ll know the meaning of fear without me having to do anything at all. This is some of the power of some of us, people and ‘people’ who for whatever reason attract others by their strong magnetism/personality/strength/resilience/ideals etc. It’s obvious I’m not interested in games or using others, but others use everything you say, think, do as a signal of some kind, as a juicy theme of the day for their news perspective/games/gossip/reporting, amazing when you’re a private individual lol. Yet groups still want you for something. And it’s that something that bothers me, even people you love have goals for you that they didn’t tell you from the start and that’s not me, I make my position clear from the start or any change as soon as I change. I say what I want, what I don’t want (and it’s rarely listened to) but still at least I try to let people and ‘people’ know where they stand with me, unless they’re game playing or communication is awkward for whatever reason. That actually puts me at a disadvantage, it’s not very clever at all, but it’s who I am.

Then there’s those that believe you’re the answer to their call and you didn’t even know they called you. Hmm.

I’m just writing the explanations of masonic symbolism here along with other things that interest me, ironically the symbolism is something that idiot masons and associates have convoluted so much over so long they barely understand themselves anymore so they flock to those like me who can see/understand (and treat them like sh*t). I don’t publicize anything nor ask for anything (heck your brutal masonic upbringing teaches us not to ask for anything that’s for sure), you don’t have to follow in any way whatsoever and yet… Playing follow the leader when the ‘leader’ doesn’t even want you. Pathetic.

You mess about with people’s psyche’s, their subconscious, unconscious, the approx 33% of their lives they spend asleep, you’re invasive, not me. Btw – El Cazador De La Bruja talks about the formulation and trying to attract a godsoul/spirit, it’s a new based on the old/continuing Mother/Daughter story/life. Control via the unconscious; so if people who’ve been conditioned for fight/flight, escape/evade, missions in a virtual reality environment and/or are just targets for practise, fun, keeping the pack satisfied etc then they should be able to defend themselves. Quite frankly if people and even ‘people’ and other species are going to go to sleep, then they should be able to sleep/rest in peace; if they’re going to dream they should be able to remember it, it’s not for you to be there and then choose whether they remember it or not, it’s their memory/mind/personality/life. We shouldn’t be sleeping or dreaming (or living fabricated waking realities) in the first place and you know it. Your change of game tactic was mega quick though, unsurprising given its one you already use i.e. surrounding the target and you with ‘children’ characters so they’ll relent, be more at ease, forget etc. Low. Really low. And you pretend to be the ‘good guys’.

I’m associated with fate/the fates, so not random ‘luck’, maybe I’m pushing against my own fate too much or at least the destiny decided by others, I don’t know. That’s the problem, people barely know anything – as quoted from ‘Read or Die’ anime – “99% of people don’t even know who they are”. So those of us who know more imo should be more open about it which is what I’ve always tried to do.

You want me to do something for you, you had better be clear about it from the start. Don’t be having meeting about me and saying I’ve done this, said that and so it’s permission, association, validity or whatever for your hopes. Yes I’m associated with hope too, but not everybody can get what they want. I’m here for Earth, the Mother Goddess, that’s it – who I help extra to that is separate, conditional and subject to change. I’ll suffer and have with others, I’ll shoulder the pain and burden, just knowing me makes things like getting into private schools on almost no fee etc happen for people who are/are seen as ‘close’ to me and the same for those who’ve parasited off association with Mum and anyone seen as a ‘source’ etc but anything we try to do for ourselves… I’m no one’s tool and I won’t be played for a fool. I keep telling people and ‘people’ to decide what they need to be happy, them, inside them, not all the expectations, programming, conditioning, culture etc (if it doesn’t hurt anyone/thing else). The thing is the people and ‘people’ who do that, and moreso those who do that successfully tend to be the least caring and/or quite oblivious and those are the ones gods, demons, villains, heroes deal with (and that should mean dealing with each other too one-on-one without using masses/regular ‘people’) and then if Gods are necessary you know it’s bad, messed up totally. Which is where ‘we’re’/the planet/narrative is at. It’s not a prophecy, worlds are ‘live’.

So stop saying ‘you’re the one’, ‘they’re the one’ to ‘people’, god levels and in our case Gods even. Let alone hanging onto their coattails for ‘inspiration’ on which stories/reviews/thoughts of the day to write, playing all sides and trying to beg friendship or belittle to prove yourself in another alliance you want. Life is not supposed to be a coup d’etat or game. But if you only understand it that way – this is the last/final round. I’m not escaping the fate I set myself, just not accepting other roles, add-ons (being connected to me doesn’t mean my titles/status/heritage etc is yours and vice versa) and most certainly not going along with those cretins and ‘aliens’ who want to ‘lose’ the Mother again or blame Her for our trauma. Look in the mirror for that.

It’s hard, it’s extremely hard being between a rock and a hard place especially watching and knowing others feel the same but whilst being a ‘negative’ person I’ve always managed to surprisingly (to many) stay upbeat too and I’ll keep it that way thank you very damned and divine bloody much. 🙂

Gallery

Spies, Sneaks and Snoops

I just found a coat Mum has been going on an on about for months that I’d packed away before Winter last year because it’s too thin and not waterproof enough for Winter and if she wore it in anything more than a light drizzle/shower the already loose/crumbling lining would come off all in one go and potentially ruin the clothes worn underneath. I wanted to use it for something else or dispose of it, she didn’t so I put it away… But then I couldn’t find it and I haven’t heard the end of it since because it’s one of those exceptionally rare things we assumed I’d acted counter to her instructions/permission for (we assumed I’d thrown it away after I couldn’t find it) instead of the usual doing everything she wants exactly and then her changing her mind or deciding she didn’t actually want it that way (the majority of ‘people’ in our lives are idiots that think getting or pretending to have an association, or one of our approval means having the other’s but we don’t have to get along or agree; the rest think they can separate us/get us to argue as if they understand the bond between the unstoppable force – Mother – and the immovable object – Dark Mother, no sword gets through this stone, the last time they clashed I got the bruise and I wasn’t even there). I’ve developed quite the thick skin and sense of humour to put up with every second that we spend together. Ironically, on the anniversary of my bday last year she came across a Ronnie Corbett show called ‘Sorry!’ (1981-88) which I found absolutely hilarious and she found a little uncomfortable. Sarcasm and retorts are the only defense he has against his mother but seriously I’m not a pathetic, incapable, weakling lacking in social skills like he is and my Mother is in no way sabotaging though she is overbearing, domineering, draining and controlling to me – to an extent.

Anyway, Mother rant over – I just found the coat packed with the Winter clothing in my personal clothing bags rather than the shared outerwear bags left out in one of the other rooms, and guess what was in it?

Fleur-de-lis

I didn’t choose this coat, I bought it as part of a sight unseen second hand clearance clothing lot in our sizes years ago. I wouldn’t buy the majority of mainstream sports brands with their crappy labour and other practices.

Just like the fleur-de-lis we found on the ‘front’ room carpet on 5th Feb 2015 for which I quietly and politely took a lot of public, shouted and ultimatum laden sh*t from the site owner about as if I were their subject or child when I reported it, and I then I shut their mouth down just as politely by reminding them of their place. I didn’t need to be polite but something needing replacing at the same time, which they replaced with something equally broken.

Fleur-de-lis

You can’t see it in the pics but they are iridescent so they turn Pink, Green, Blue and Purple in the light/when you move them. They’re supposed to be iridescent because that comes from the etymology of Iris and the Goddess’ iridescence and rainbow self.

I really can’t be bothered to unpack the rest of the stuff; although when we return to find things slightly moved, removed or added it’s usually not more than 1 or 2 things at a time and I truly hope that some have hurt themselves on things I’ve accidentally left in places at times.

And another thing – I don’t like the way the residents, guests and ‘others’ here use our ‘lot’ as a dumping ground and have the audacity to use the word ‘garbage’ about us; rummaging through, filling, taking the contents and even taking the bins has been past practice for ‘neighbours’ at other places.

The fleur-de-lis is a lily and/or iris. They’re linked to the eye; to the Greeks Iris was the link between the gods and humanity, the messenger between Heaven and Earth i.e. the Rainbow Goddess. (Interestingly someone with unique gemstone ability recently gave me a rainbow jasper.) It’s linked to Wadjet and the all seeing eye, the eye of Ra and the eye of Horus; the eye being common enough symbolism but Wadjet was an all encompassing protector patron Goddess, of Lower and then unified Egypt and for 16 years I was connected with ‘The Prince of the South’ (who lives in the US, is Caucasian and has soiled himself with Roman imitation/morphing/twisting but is linked to ancient Egypt and has a tattoo of the ‘original sin’ knowledge/hope/help tree/snake goddess) and whilst he loved me chose a ‘beta’/beth in line with the current planetary ruling class (one of which asked me to be her oracle, plenty of people she could ask that of but wanted the ‘enemy’/elder); the lying, cheating, two-faced, backstabbing sea-serpent even though he’s interested in the omega, but gave up on what is the alpha and the omega. Anyway, Goddess and Eye (and later Caduceus) symbolism comes from the ancient Daughter, the communicator/connection between the Mother Goddess so radiant/bright and powerful that being anywhere near her presence would be too much for fragile creation, so the lesser but still divine light Daughter is there instead. It goes with my name: Dolly as explained in other posts, to the Greeks meant ‘Gift/Vision of God(s)’ but also means the tree of life and tree of knowledge, door, gate protector, horse etc. Iris was a swift traveler between worlds and especially linked with the sea and sky, both worlds in themselves and as shown in ‘The Last Unicorn’ (1982) her kind are trapped in the sea and the adopted Prince’s name LĂ­r means ‘sea’ whilst her human name is Amalthea ‘tender goddess/mountain goat’ supposed foster Mother figure of Zeus (he/they wish, but basically means she is older than the Greek and Roman empires) (also moon of Jupiter, Jupiter being the ‘protector’ i.e. a beatdown taker and why Venus was changed to Jupiter in ‘Jupiter Ascending’ (2015) because some ‘people’ hope that the Dark Star and Nibiru system can be prevented/won’t do damage/won’t get a bad impression of what’s been going on in Sol’s closer area) which goes very well with Capricorn being of sky (mountain) and sea, also a horned one (as old Goddesses should be or have something that has a horn(s)). The ancient Greeks also laid on or planted Purple Irises by women’s graves to ask the ‘Goddess’ to help them on their way/death journey. In Asian symbolism they are the lotus and when talking about Lalita and Kali the Mother and Dark Mother are the tulips, which is why two old blankets: Green blanket with tulips/lilies on it and a Red one with the tiger on it were left by someone before we moved into another place ages ago, along with the usual soiled mattresses. Followed by tiger symbolism following us around and people calling me Tiger Lily. Green and Red were extremely important in ancient Egypt in terms of crown, dominion and power and continued to be so but differently to the continuing gnostics and freemasons (as have the triple goddess the flowers are associated with which became Faith, Hope and Charity based on Wisdom, Faith, Hope, Friendship/Cherishing and Valor). They were very important in ancient India too in terms of types of knowledge, universal and individual, and the maturity you must have to access either, I have access to both and have since childhood; ‘the’ library and all libraries of past, present and symbolic are open to me though ‘people’ love to get in the way, and physically the librarians in this ridiculous little town we live in have recently shown cowardly tendencies.

Customs for such flowers have been incorporated into other and later cultures, all goddess based even if not obvious such as in Judaism and Christianity, in the latter for example they were used in ‘sorrow gardens’ (unrelated but interesting in their altruistic sounding yet hypocritical and sly use were ‘sorrow lodges’).

Also – just because I don’t like being followed, bothered, orchestrated, coerced and all the rest of it; the aforementioned are just some of my titles, I’m not giving them up or sharing. Mum and I don’t hide and don’t appreciate your hiding and thinking you can boss us around either; you’re within the ‘food chain’/pyramid/mountain (and quite frankly many of you act like bottom feeders) and we’re not in it at all. Even if you skulk around to leave marks of respect it’s not exactly respectful when you act like those who don’t and we can’t even tell the difference between you whilst the obvious ‘elites’ on this crying, bleeding planet live in the lap of luxury pulling puppet strings having their way with everybody. Remember that.

EDIT – Just after I posted this someone took it upon themselves to bang on a metal lid out in front of us gong style, the site owner has rang a bell a few times upon our return too; see that’s what I mean much of time you can’t tell between the friends, foes and frenemies. They act the same, it might sound nice that they signal your arrival, journey, departure, return etc but all it really means is that they think they have the right know everything about you and all the time, like ownership.

Gallery

Meeting Some Ancestors

Today June 20th (though it might not say that in the title of this post yet) is the Summer Solstice. Recently Mum, Kitty and I visited some Redwoods, they’re not that old but they certainly grow quickly. You can’t really see it from the photos but the way to the giant ones is on a slight incline/slope so you walk onwards and upwards to them. I like places like that, you feel so much calmer there without all the noise and electromagnetic radiation (additional to the background radiation people are naturally ok with), it’s like a weight’s been lifted automatically. It’s interesting; the place had been empty of people for quite a while but each time I sat down next to them and tried to meditate groups suddenly came and as usual people taking photos with us in them (when a place is quite deserted do you still take photos including the tourists when its easy to avoid them, why would you want them in your photos?) But even more interestingly no one, including Kitty (which was very weird), passed them into the wilderness behind. Mum and I obviously went and I went the furthest, it was great, something about it makes you feel like you can just keep going on and on (without feeling lost or getting tired), like you could just disappear. Another thing I like about places like that is that you can really hear, you might not be able to see very well but you can hear and there are many many voices; animal voices, sounds and whispers on the wind. You can also hear you own conscience clearer.

The giant trees were funny; let’s just say that I figure a long life isn’t worth living unless you have a sense of humour and they, well, they seemed to share that spirit. No meditation necessary.

Behind them were some shelters so I’m surprised none of the visitors went to look, but the way some things were organized at the base of one of the giants just in front of them made me wonder if something was done there.

As we were leaving something special happened and escorted us until we were back onto the main path when it stopped and I felt very drained afterwards for some hours but not enough to bypass my share of the carrying/heaving. I always have enough energy left for that no matter what 😉 we still had a long way to go but we got there, as always.

Trees, Redwoods, Nature

Mum

Trees, Pine Cones, Pine Nuts, Nature

Pine cones are amazing, they hold and protect their contents so well and there’s so much inside… Until they hit the ground.

Horses

Some other friends

Horses

They decided to walk along with us

Redwoods, Trees, Communing with Nature, Pathway

The walkway

Redwoods, Trees, Communing with Nature, Path

Redwoods, Trees, Communing with Nature

Redwoods, Trees, Communing with Nature, Best Friends

Aw

Redwoods, Trees, Communing with Nature

Kitty is a tree hugger but decided these were just too wide. She decided it was easier and more intelligent to relax with the Mother tree.

Redwoods, Trees, Communing with Nature

One of the shelters

Redwoods, Trees, Communing with Nature

Back door for the cat

Redwoods, Trees, Communing with Nature

Redwoods, Trees, Communing with Nature

Redwoods, Trees, Communing with Nature

I’m Robin and Mum is Sweetums XD

Gallery

The Lady or The Tiger

Recently I read a book that I knew was a metaphor for something else that goes on in the dregs of society (irrespective of class) and I was interested to see if there were any salient points in it, disguised as a young readers book and the main theme/vehicle of which I didn’t realize until I read it – a theme which would have put me off had I known… It’s not a genre I’ve read nor wanted to for a long time. Anyway the protagonist comes across a card game where the only two cards left are the Lady and the Tiger and something about it strikes a chord in her, as if she’s about to find out which she is, which she wants and which she needs to be. It hit a note with me too because I hadn’t come across that symbolism before other than being called TigerLily more than once by people ‘who know better’, sometimes surprisingly/severely so.

In the end the character she becomes friends with, and what a character he is, calls her “My Lady, the Tiger”. I hadn’t really thought about it like that before, I’ve found it difficult to figure out what Tiger Lily means despite research, on the one hand this ferocious predator animal and the other the sign of purity and even knowledge/sacred geometry/The Goddess when in its lotus form.

Yesterday I happened upon this story:

The Lady, or the Tiger?
Frank R. Stockton (1882)

The Lady or The Tiger

The 1884 anthology version.

In the very olden time there lived a semi-barbaric king, whose ideas, though somewhat polished and sharpened by the progressiveness of distant Latin neighbors, were still large, florid, and untrammeled, as became the half of him which was barbaric. He was a man of exuberant fancy, and, withal, of an authority so irresistible that, at his will, he turned his varied fancies into facts. He was greatly given to self-communing, and, when he and himself agreed upon anything, the thing was done. When every member of his domestic and political systems moved smoothly in its appointed course, his nature was bland and genial; but, whenever there was a little hitch, and some of his orbs got out of their orbits, he was blander and more genial still, for nothing pleased him so much as to make the crooked straight and crush down uneven places.

Among the borrowed notions by which his barbarism had become semified was that of the public arena, in which, by exhibitions of manly and beastly valor, the minds of his subjects were refined and cultured.

But even here the exuberant and barbaric fancy asserted itself The arena of the king was built, not to give the people an opportunity of hearing the rhapsodies of dying gladiators, nor to enable them to view the inevitable conclusion of a conflict between religious opinions and hungry jaws, but for purposes far better adapted to widen and develop the mental energies of the people. This vast amphitheater, with its encircling galleries, its mysterious vaults, and its unseen passages, was an agent of poetic justice, in which crime was punished, or virtue rewarded, by the decrees of an impartial and incorruptible chance.

When a subject was accused of a crime of sufficient importance to interest the king, public notice was given that on an appointed day the fate of the accused person would be decided in the king’s arena, a structure which well deserved its name, for, although its form and plan were borrowed from afar, its purpose emanated solely from the brain of this man, who, every barleycorn a king, knew no tradition to which he owed more allegiance than pleased his fancy, and who ingrafted on every adopted form of human thought and action the rich growth of his barbaric idealism.

When all the people had assembled in the galleries, and the king, surrounded by his court, sat high up on his throne of royal state on one side of the arena, he gave a signal, a door beneath him opened, and the accused subject stepped out into the amphitheater. Directly opposite him, on the other side of the inclosed space, were two doors, exactly alike and side by side. It was the duty and the privilege of the person on trial to walk directly to these doors and open one of them. He could open either door he pleased; he was subject to no guidance or influence but that of the aforementioned impartial and incorruptible chance. If he opened the one, there came out of it a hungry tiger, the fiercest and most cruel that could be procured, which immediately sprang upon him and tore him to pieces as a punishment for his guilt. The moment that the case of the criminal was thus decided, doleful iron bells were clanged, great wails went up from the hired mourners posted on the outer rim of *the arena, and the vast audience, with bowed heads and downcast hearts, wended slowly their homeward way, mourning greatly that one so young and fair, or so old and respected, should have merited so dire a fate.

But, if the accused person opened the other door, there came forth from it a lady, the most suitable to his years and station that his majesty could select among his fair subjects, and to this lady he was immediately married, as a reward of his innocence. It mattered not that he might already possess a wife and family, or that his affections might be engaged upon an object of his own selection; the king allowed no such subordinate arrangements to interfere with his great scheme of retribution and reward. The exercises, as in the other instance, took place immediately, and in the arena. Another door opened beneath the king, and a priest, followed by a band of choristers, and dancing maidens blowing joyous airs on golden horns and treading an epithalamic measure, advanced to where the pair stood, side by side, and the wedding was promptly and cheerily solemnized. Then the gay brass bells rang forth their merry peals, the people shouted glad hurrahs, and the innocent man, preceded by children strewing flowers on his path, led his bride to his home.

This was the king’s semi-barbaric method of administering justice. Its perfect fairness is obvious. The criminal could not know out of which door would come the lady; he opened either he pleased, without having the slightest idea whether, in the next instant, he was to be devoured or married. On some occasions the tiger came out of one door, and on some out of the other. The decisions of this tribunal were not only fair, they were positively determinate: the accused person was instantly punished if he found himself guilty, and, if innocent, he was rewarded on the spot, whether he liked it or not. There was no escape from the judgments of the king’s arena.

The institution was a very popular one. When the people gathered together on one of the great trial days, they never knew whether they were to witness a bloody slaughter or a hilarious wedding. This element of uncertainty lent an interest to the occasion which it could not otherwise have attained. Thus, the masses were entertained and pleased, and the thinking part of the community could bring no charge of unfairness against this plan, for did not the accused person have the whole matter in his own hands?

This semi-barbaric king had a daughter as blooming as his most florid fancies, and with a soul as fervent and imperious as his own. As is usual in such cases, she was the apple of his eye, and was loved by him above all humanity. Among his courtiers was a young man of that fineness of blood and lowness of station common to the conventional heroes of romance who love royal maidens. This royal maiden was well satisfied with her lover, for he was handsome and brave to a degree unsurpassed in all this kingdom, and she loved him with an ardor that had enough of barbarism in it to make it exceedingly warm and strong. This love affair moved on happily for many months, until one day the king happened to discover its existence. He did not hesitate nor waver in regard to his duty in the premises. The youth was immediately cast into prison, and a day was appointed for his trial in the king’s arena. This, of course, was an especially important occasion, and his majesty, as well as all the people, was greatly interested in the workings and development of this trial. Never before had such a case occurred; never before had a subject dared to love the daughter of the king. In after years such things became commonplace enough, but then they were in no slight degree novel and startling.

The tiger-cages of the kingdom were searched for the most savage and relentless beasts, from which the fiercest monster might be selected for the arena; and the ranks of maiden youth and beauty throughout the land were carefully surveyed by competent judges in order that the young man might have a fitting bride in case fate did not determine for him a different destiny. Of course, everybody knew that the deed with which the accused was charged had been done. He had loved the princess, and neither he, she, nor any one else, thought of denying the fact; but the king would not think of allowing any fact of this kind to interfere with the workings of the tribunal, in which he took such great delight and satisfaction. No matter how the affair turned out, the youth would be disposed of, and the king would take an aesthetic pleasure in watching the course of events, which would determine whether or not the young man had done wrong in allowing himself to love the princess.

The appointed day arrived. From far and near the people gathered, and thronged the great galleries of the arena, and crowds, unable to gain admittance, massed themselves against its outside walls. The king and his court were in their places, opposite the twin doors, those fateful portals, so terrible in their similarity.

All was ready. The signal was given. A door beneath the royal party opened, and the lover of the princess walked into the arena. Tall, beautiful, fair, his appearance was greeted with a low hum of admiration and anxiety. Half the audience had not known so grand a youth had lived among them. No wonder the princess loved him! What a terrible thing for him to be there!

As the youth advanced into the arena he turned, as the custom was, to bow to the king, but he did not think at all of that royal personage. His eyes were fixed upon the princess, who sat to the right of her father. Had it not been for the moiety of barbarism in her nature it is probable that lady would not have been there, but her intense and fervid soul would not allow her to be absent on an occasion in which she was so terribly interested. From the moment that the decree had gone forth that her lover should decide his fate in the king’s arena, she had thought of nothing, night or day, but this great event and the various subjects connected with it. Possessed of more power, influence, and force of character than any one who had ever before been interested in such a case, she had done what no other person had done,–she had possessed herself of the secret of the doors. She knew in which of the two rooms, that lay behind those doors, stood the cage of the tiger, with its open front, and in which waited the lady. Through these thick doors, heavily curtained with skins on the inside, it was impossible that any noise or suggestion should come from within to the person who should approach to raise the latch of one of them. But gold, and the power of a woman’s will, had brought the secret to the princess.

And not only did she know in which room stood the lady ready to emerge, all blushing and radiant, should her door be opened, but she knew who the lady was. It was one of the fairest and loveliest of the damsels of the court who had been selected as the reward of the accused youth, should he be proved innocent of the crime of aspiring to one so far above him; and the princess hated her. Often had she seen, or imagined that she had seen, this fair creature throwing glances of admiration upon the person of her lover, and sometimes she thought these glances were perceived, and even returned. Now and then she had seen them talking together; it was but for a moment or two, but much can be said in a brief space; it may have been on most unimportant topics, but how could she know that? The girl was lovely, but she had dared to raise her eyes to the loved one of the princess; and, with all the intensity of the savage blood transmitted to her through long lines of wholly barbaric ancestors, she hated the woman who blushed and trembled behind that silent door.

When her lover turned and looked at her, and his eye met hers as she sat there, paler and whiter than any one in the vast ocean of anxious faces about her, he saw, by that power of quick perception which is given to those whose souls are one, that she knew behind which door crouched the tiger, and behind which stood the lady. He had expected her to know it. He understood her nature, and his soul was assured that she would never rest until she had made plain to herself this thing, hidden to all other lookers-on, even to the king. The only hope for the youth in which there was any element of certainty was based upon the success of the princess in discovering this mystery; and the moment he looked upon her, he saw she had succeeded, as in his soul he knew she would succeed.

Then it was that his quick and anxious glance asked the question: “Which?” It was as plain to her as if he shouted it from where he stood. There was not an instant to be lost. The question was asked in a flash; it must be answered in another.

Her right arm lay on the cushioned parapet before her. She raised her hand, and made a slight, quick movement toward the right. No one but her lover saw her. Every eye but his was fixed on the man in the arena.

He turned, and with a firm and rapid step he walked across the empty space. Every heart stopped beating, every breath was held, every eye was fixed immovably upon that man. Without the slightest hesitation, he went to the door on the right, and opened it.

Now, the point of the story is this: Did the tiger come out of that door, or did the lady ?

The more we reflect upon this question, the harder it is to answer. It involves a study of the human heart which leads us through devious mazes of passion, out of which it is difficult to find our way. Think of it, fair reader, not as if the decision of the question depended upon yourself, but upon that hot-blooded, semi-barbaric princess, her soul at a white heat beneath the combined fires of despair and jealousy. She had lost him, but who should have him?

How often, in her waking hours and in her dreams, had she started in wild horror, and covered her face with her hands as she thought of her lover opening the door on the other side of which waited the cruel fangs of the tiger!

But how much oftener had she seen him at the other door! How in her grievous reveries had she gnashed her teeth, and torn her hair, when she saw his start of rapturous delight as he opened the door of the lady! How her soul had burned in agony when she had seen him rush to meet that woman, with her flushing cheek and sparkling eye of triumph; when she had seen him lead her forth, his whole frame kindled with the joy of recovered life; when she had heard the glad shouts from the multitude, and the wild ringing of the happy bells; when she had seen the priest, with his joyous followers, advance to the couple, and make them man and wife before her very eyes; and when she had seen them walk away together upon their path of flowers, followed by the tremendous shouts of the hilarious multitude, in which her one despairing shriek was lost and drowned!

Would it not be better for him to die at once, and go to wait for her in the blessed regions of semi-barbaric futurity?

And yet, that awful tiger, those shrieks, that blood!

Her decision had been indicated in an instant, but it had been made after days and nights of anguished deliberation. She had known she would be asked, she had decided what she would answer, and, without the slightest hesitation, she had moved her hand to the right.

The question of her decision is one not to be lightly considered, and it is not for me to presume to set myself up as the one person able to answer it. And so I leave it with all of you: Which came out of the opened door,–the lady, or the tiger?

Hmm

Someone read through this with me or at least part of it and at the same pace so when we got to the end she said “I’d choose the tiger” and I was silent (I can see why both choices are feasible). I think the end note by the author is pertinent and poignant, when I was a teen I used to say to people “with power comes responsibility” prior to the Spiderman film trilogy (2002-07)and before reading a historical account (of course, little we think of is new) and I think the author put it really well in this story. It was not a light or easy decision to make and it took a ‘dark’ princess to make it. I already knew that in the above story I wouldn’t have chosen to send him to the tiger, and for many that would be the obvious answer and certainly of the moral theme we get in modernized fairy tales, children’s and adult media but I can see why she agonized over it. Some decisions are easy to make because we know it’s the right thing to do but try telling that to your feelings. Some we already know we will make even after deliberating or the appearance of deliberating either because we want to, have to or both. Sometimes there is no easy answer. In this case the consequences are heavy both ways. Here we take the feelings of The Lady lightly, it’s more about how the prisoner, how the royalty and bystanders feel.

On a superficial level only thinking of the obvious prisoner I’d say not The Tiger; if he wasn’t a piece of cr*p that I unfortunately was in love with (and I’ve always believed that you can love sombody but you don’t have to be with them if you can’t for whatever reason, unless you’re forced/coerced/manipulated) then no matter how much it pained me for the rest of my life I’d rather he be happy, better off or at least not miserable, or in this case not eaten alive. He could believe anything he wanted/suited him about me, that I was trash, a tramp, that all the truth I’d said was lies, it wouldn’t matter as long as he was ok. The phrase ‘that which doesn’t kill you makes you stronger’ has always been bs to me, there’s plenty of things worse than death and if the princess here chose The Lady she’d be choosing a slow, weakening death of herself for the one she loved.

But what about The Lady, don’t you have to protect her too? She doesn’t have a choice either. It’s a rock and a hard place for the obvious prisoner and her, she’s a prisoner too, a prisoner displayed as a prize to be used however the victor sees fit – and as the story outlines, not all the victors are even innocent let alone nice.

Which brought me back to the cards in the book, The Lady or The Tiger and protagonist surprising herself in the end by learning she is both. A real guardian is supposed to be both ferocious and kind. To love and protect, to have and to hold, to give and destroy. Not everyone is worth helping or saving, many come back to bite you and everything they do to others after you’ve helped them is partially on your head. Yet much of the time it’s not for us to choose or we’re unable to choose and we just have to help as many as we can whilst we can. This was a really personal choice in the story. Sometimes you have to put yourself in a bad light to those you love (and/or who are ‘worth it’) to protect them – not hurting them or doing anything bad at all but just having to do what it takes to get them out of a situation even if that makes them hate you, even ruins your relationship/their opinion of you indefinitely. I said I wouldn’t choose The Tiger, but I wouldn’t choose The Lady either. The situation says there are two options but having the strength to make more I’d have to make more no matter how long it took, how hard or the personal toll; I’d try to help all three prisoners (the Lover, the Lady and the Tiger) even from my own cage. I wonder if that’s what the dark princess, the door guardian, chooser, did.

Apparently there was a sequel:

Stockton later wrote “The Discourager of Hesitancy,” a short story, sequel, of sorts, to “The Lady, or the Tiger?,” that begins with travelers visiting the kingdom to discover whether the prince in “The Lady or the Tiger” chose death or the maiden. This is answered with a second story, in which a prince comes to the kingdom to find a wife. He is blindfolded, married to one of forty beautiful maidens and given the ultimatum that he must correctly identify his bride. If he fails, the king’s guard will immediately put him to death. He narrows the choice to two maidens, one of whom smiles and the other who frowns. He chooses correctly and the visitors who came for their answer are told they will only be given the answer to “The Lady or the Tiger” conundrum if they answer this new one correctly.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Lady,_or_the_Tiger

This story later became a part of a triple play called ‘The Apple Tree’.

The Apple Tree is a series of three musical playlets with music by Jerry Bock, lyrics by Sheldon Harnick, and a book by Bock and Harnick with contributions from Jerome Coopersmith. Each act has its own storyline, but all three are tied together by a common theme (someone who believes that they want something, but once they get what they wanted they realize that it wasn’t what they wanted) and common references, such as references to the color brown. The first act is based on Mark Twain’s The Diary of Adam and Eve; the second act is based on Frank R. Stockton’sThe Lady or the Tiger?; the third act is based on Jules Feiffer’s Passionella. The working title for the evening of three musicals was Come Back! Go Away! I Love You!

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Apple_Tree

Tiger Lily flower

TigerLily: not pretty, delightful or elegant is it (sorry Nature if it was you who made it and not people’s cross breeding). Not a flower I’d choose for myself but I guess we can’t all be lovable.

Judgement by its very nature can be both punishment and reward. That’s life – the myriad of thoughts, feelings and acts; wants, needs and desires; it sucks.

Gallery

6

I change the look of the blog annually, this is the 6th makeover 🙂

This was the last one:

5 Screenshot