Slithered in Evil

Written in 2008


At the beginning I had a feeling the outside would be bad. But I kept riding on this roller coaster. He came across as a nice guy maybe a little troublemaker, but nothing I couldn’t handle. 
Then everything went black. My life suddenly spun out of  my hands into his. 


An Evil grin spread upon his face as his eyes narrowed to slits. He started spatting venomous words at me. My heart dropped, and I kept feeling like it was my fault when I had done nothing wrong. Tears streamed down from my eyes, leaving salty trails behind. ‘I must be a Whore!’ He says I am.

For some reason, I believed his hateful words. I felt he was the only one who would accept me for how I am. So I never left. We were together everyday. No longer could I talk to my friends that were guys, because in my heart I knew those ghastly words would come out of his poisonous mouth. If he knew I had talked to boys, his body would soon radiate with how furious he was. My feelings would cower inside of me, waiting for his body to connect with my own. But I would never show him my fear, he could never break my pride. 

Fights began happening daily and he soon realized his grip on me was becoming loose. He tried to control me even more, trying to use drugs as my achille’s heel. But he soon found out, ‘ I’M NOT A DRUGGIE!’ I can say NO! So he began forcing me to eat pills and hits of acid. 

A otherworldy feeling took over my body. I could look at my own self, and I looked broken. My independent self was lost, no where to be seen. 

Something dark and menacing hovered over my body, whispering in a language never heard of. My body responded and let this human-like demon have a firm grip on me. 

Slowly, my eyes began to open again. I now realized some people do not have any good left in their hearts. I was just being a good person, letting someone close that needed help. Always seeing the good in people instead of what was really happening. For being a Caring person, I get stomped on and thrown in the dirt. I kept giving, even when I had nothing to give. My own heart was ripped out of my chest, then crushed. Right before my tear filled eyes. 

It’s his fault I had to leave a place that I had finally felt accepted. His own selfish intensions left me penniless, used, and broken hearted. But now I know, not to be so caring. I am stronger now! He pushed my mental capacity to its fullest. Now, I think I can take on the World. I am ready to step out of my hole once again.

Unidentified Madness

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We wanted to go out with a bang, but this was an unexpected turn of events. Once we arrived to Oakland, California to visit a friend, our adventures started with a cemetery overlooking the city. Huge tombs were sprawled out on the hill. Some had pyramids, huge pillars, and your traditional tombstones. But there were many that were the size of a room that were filled with families.

I was permeated with curiosity, so I began looking into a window. At first, it looked as if someone had been trapped inside the grave room. Holes were left in the glass. Then it dawned on us, grave robbers. Damn! The glass must be shatter proofed. I peeked into another window, and there lied death. How fitting, a squirrel died in a tomb already meant for that. Realization hit me as I stared down at the lifeless body. These all were filled with that, bodies.

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Onward, to the next agenda, rope bondage class. The beginnings of it felt like a class that could be taken in school. We learned the history, what kind of rope to use, and how to take care of it. It was filled with much information in such a short time.

Then the fun began, tying each other up. Couples were scattered on foamy mats awaiting instruction. We used the hemp rope and worked on a few basic ties.

Once the class was completed, it was time to watch the professionals play.

They had such fluid movements together. It was sexy, no doubt, but its beauty was overpowering. The eyes became transfixed onto the two, never wavering. It was as if you were watching a dance with their motions, and the energy exploded throughout the air. It is definitely an art form that has been lost to many. This intrigued me! I was left in amazement!

 

My husband and I now waited at the San Francisco subway station to get back to Oakland. We were just minding our own business, and out of nowhere, a guy came up behind me and punched my man in the face. He dropped to the ground, and instantly I jumped on the guy yelling in fury, “What’s fucking wrong with you?!” The guy just stood there staring down at my husband. In a blur, I got off and my husband was up. Many local San. Fran. People helped disperse this fight. I was a bit surprised. My adrenaline was pumping rapidly and once we were apart, I realized I had drawn my knife. I was ready. But the locals helped ease the tension.

The guy stared at my man from a far, unflinching with an intense stare. I looked back at him with hate in my eyes. But his eyes never left my husband. The strange man never said a word the whole time. His white polo shirt and pants looked clean, he didn’t look dirty in the least. So we came to the conclusion that he must have been on drugs.

 

It reminded me of Fightclub, when the main character wanted to destroy something beautiful. My husband became that kind of target.

 

Lost in a Mirage

                                            Written in 2008

    At the beginning, I had a feeling the outcome would be bad, but I kept on riding this roller coaster. He came across as a nice guy, maybe a little troublemaker. But nothing I couldn’t handle. Then everything went black…
My     life     
                   suddenly    spun
                                            out
                                        of my
hands
                           into his.
An evil grin spread over his face as his eyes narrowed to slits. He started spatting venomous words at me. My heart dropped, and I kept feeling like it was my fault. Even when, I had done nothing wrong!
Tears protruded from my eyes, leaving salty trails down my face. I must be a whore, since he says I am. For some reason, I believed his hateful words. I felt he was the only one who would accept me for what I really was.
So I never left. We were together everyday. No longer could I talk to my friends that were guys. If he knew I had, those ghastly words would come out of his poisonous mouth. His body would soon radiate how furious he was, and my body would be cowering on the inside. Waiting for him to connect with my own form.
But I would never show him my fear, he could never break my pride.

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Fights began happening daily, and he soon realized his grip on me was becoming loose. So he tried to control me more. He tried to use drugs on me as my Achilles’  heel. But he soon found out, I’M NOT A DRUGGIE! I can say, NO!
He took a turn to constraint. He held me in place and forced me to eat pills and hits of acid.
A feeling of otherworldliness took over my body. I could look at my own self and see, I was broken. I didn’t look like my independent self anymore.

image

Something dark and menacing hovered over my body, whispering in a language that’s never heard of. But my body responded and let this human like devil have a firm grip on me. Slowly my eyes began to open again. I now realized some people do not have any good left in their hearts.
Me just being a good person, letting someone close, always seeing the good in people. I didn’t realize what was really happening. For being a caring human, I get stomped on and thrown into the dirt. I kept giving, even when I had nothing to give. I watched my own heart getting ripped out of my own chest, then crushed right before my tear filled eyes.
It is his fault I had to leave a place I finally felt accepted. His own selfish intentions left me penniless, used, and heartbroken.
But now I know, not to be so caring. I now am stronger. He pushed my mental capacity to its fullest. Now I can take on the world. I am ready to step out of my hole once again. Now with new knowledge for the world!

Don’t Drink the Poison!

Arkansas, what an unusual place. But I have been there many times. I have family there, and my closest cousins as well.
Once we made it to Arkansas, it was around me and my cousin’s mutual birthday! But he’s two years younger than me. Still not old enough for the bar. Off we went to the craziness ahead.
I almost got gang raped, but luckily my aunt talked my boy toy into rescuing me. Yet another reason it is good I gave up the poisonous addiction of alcohol.
Onward to New Mexico, where we stayed on top of a mountain for a week at my sister’s friends. It was nice but as time passed, the trip spiraled downhill. It was my sister’s way or the highway. We stopped at places she wanted to, as long as she wanted to. But when it came to someone else’s thoughts on staying somewhere, it went unnoticed.
I resisted my urge on escaping her controlling ways. In Oregon, where the sand dunes are great and almighty. My sister and the scumbag were sleeping, boy toy was driving, and I was in the passenger side. Out of nowhere, smoke started billowing to the back, waking them, “Smoke! Smoke!”
We abruptly stopped in the small town on the bridge. The bus ignited. My dog was confused by the chaos. So he ran back into the fire infested vehicle. In an instant, boy toy jumped into the bus after him, and threw him out.
This town has some kind of law, when something out of the ordinary happens, they take care of the people. So, we got to spend the night in a hotel suite. It had a kitchen, two bathrooms, and two bedrooms. Four people and three dogs, it was great! The fireman chief’s wife the next day gave us a ride an hour away to get a rental.

We had that for forty five minutes and it got a flat! What luck we have!
I lasted until the end of the rainbow gathering in Washington. Which I only went so I knew how it was. And it was how I expected. The environment was trampled all over, and litter was sprawled out. Not all of the kitchens cared about being sanitary. I ended up getting sick. Oh, new age hippies, disgusting. Thus, my hitch hiking adventures with boy toy began!

Party in La Paz

Oh, how the cleaning lady will hate us. There’s condom wrappers everywhere! What a night! We went to Route 36 a well known bar for drugs… one drink, two drink, three, four.
I met a Colombian boy and a Floridan boy. But the night ended with the Colombian. There’s something about the way Colombian’s dance. It just turns me on. “You can dance… sold!”
A few nights before that (Friday), my alter ego, when I’m drunk, is Danelle. I, as the Floridan would say, got “finger blasted”. There’s no stopping me, I’m a maniac, a succubus. I crave men, eat them for breakfast. Yum!
An Australian, Melbourne girl I met, gave me a ticket to Uyuni! All aboard, I’m riding in style!

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Ayahuasca- Lagunas: January 14th, 2014

This was not something I would have gone out of my way for. This thing supposedly cleanses the body, but in doing so, makes you feel like shit. Puking, dizzy, and alot of waiting…
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We stayed at the shaman´s for 4 days:

first day: Ayahuasca

second day: Recovery

third day: Ayahuasca

fourth day: Recovery

Now the first day, all of us did it, and it wasn´t so great. Our recovering day, we took a bath together next to a well with buckets full of water. What a sight! Three white people in the shaman´s backyard pouring water over their naked bodies. That was a first for me. Taking a bath with a man, especially two, and no funny business happened. It was like we were children again, splashing eachother, and not being weird about our nakedness.

The German and I decided to try it once more. That´s when the visuals happened. I could see a castle, with high walls, and a draw bridge. It was locked down tight. But I wanted in, slowly the draw bridge came down. Then the gates began to open, then the door. I was finally in, but which way do I go? I tried the left hallway, the grey stones the only thing I could see. The hallway never ended, so I returned to the beginning. This time I took the right hallway. After a bit of time, I came to a Imprisoned heart. It was in a cage. As I stared at it, it started to beat. I watched as smoke came out of it, wondering what was going on. Then suddenly, the cage broke open. I had freed it! It grew wings, and flew away! What a trip!

When we took this, we had to put alcohol to our lips then spit it out. Tobacco was used to help purify it or something like that. It didn´t smell good that´s for sure.

The shaman is seventy six years old, and blind! He seems to be a very off kind of fellow. Well, off to Iquitos!

Shaman House