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Jivana's Memoirs 53It was Wednesday night. I hadn’t been back to work yet. I had been working feverishly on the websites and they were coming along beautifully. The Technorati core, members of the New Moon Collective, and some newbies were huddled in a large circle in the warehouse.
“Well I’m happy to report to you all that in just a week and half we have collected 400 bags of trash, created over 50 gardens, started the golden road paths leading into Democracity proper toward the Koch building”
“They are like rivers heading toward the ocean” said Zoe as she brushed her blue streaked bangs out of her eyes.
“Yes … that’s true. If we had an aerial of it, it would probably look like it’s spiraling in. It’s like I can see it …” My voice drifted for a moment as I imagined what we were creating on macro level. “Anyway, stickers are everywhere. Tagging is everywhere. There is buzz around
Jivana's Memoirs 52In the next week we had attracted more people and we were able to break into more groups and canvas more territory. When Cutter showed up, coming all the way from the desert to work in solidarity with us, I felt we were really on to something.
“Dr. Rave sends his regards and wishes he could be here. I come with the message that we support you”.
I think I blushed. “Thank you Cutter”.
The artists we assigned to paint, while most of the others alternated between sticker duty walks and gardening. Every night we moved closer and closer to Democracity proper. Everday that anvil of guilt got heavier but I still powered through.
But by the end of the next week, I had resolved that I could not go back. I needed to focus my energy and with an anvil on my heart I could not give my full potential. Like the end game, I wasn’t really sure how I would approach the end of my career. I would just have to call in on Monday.
Jivana's Memoirs 51“Boycott Koch?”
“Do you think people will know what that means?”
“It doesn’t matter, we need to bring drag it from the darkness into the light. They own almost everything and yet very little is in their name. But what is, is important. --It takes at least 7 times before someone is exposed to something before it enters their consciousness. Advertisers know this. We need to people to come to know their brand, and what it really stands for. The secondary marketing is well, secondary. First we get people to see it, and see it again, and see it again … until they start to question it and they start talking to others.”
“Jivana, don’t you think that’s dangerous?”
“Yes, I suppose if they find it they will not like it. That’s why we go back to the old spots first. We educate the border and the outskirts first, and then we move in”.
Jivana's Memoirs 50So we met with the group and everyone was in agreement. We would buy supplies that night, make some decisions, and start the following night.
The wish list from the artist friends was spray paint heavy. So I put cash in the hands of all my Technorati friends, and we went separately, to different stores to load up on supplies.
The brainstorming session with the group proved useful in that we outlined which areas we should hit, and which ones we should hit first. Part of the plan was that we would start in and around the Outskirts and work our way in. We all watched the movie again for inspiration. We wanted to plan some of our messages but some we knew would have to come off the cuff and we would need fresh memories for that.
And so we started. The first day ( those that showed up) we all worked together. It was our core Technorati tribe. We were armed with paint, seeds, and gardening tools. We quickly realized we would need to add
Jivana's Memoirs 49The truth is that I had known all week what needed to be done and I definitely knew it the night that I went to dance at the bass cave but I was paralyzed by doubt. The dancing burned through my fears and made me clear. Poignantly clear.
“We have to send a message” I said.
“That’s it? That’s all you …” Zephr started by Zoe cut her off with the wave of her arm in front of her sister’s mouth. It was the first time I think I had ever seen Zoe act somewhat aggressively. Well, besides the fight night.
“Let her finish Zeph”. I could tell that Zephr wanted to say something back like “how do you know she was finished”, but something made her hold it in, and I could see it wrestling in her jaw.
I breathed in deeply, my breath filling me up with courage.
“We take to the streets. We align with street gangs, and we start tagging for change”.
Zephr’s mouth dropped. Zoe
Jivana's Memoirs 48The night of dancing with my new friends in a small dark space and bass rushing through my body did help me. I felt renewed and filled again with a sense of true being. It reinvigorated the purpose I was beginning to see clearly. They knew that would happen. Smart friends.
That was a Friday night. So I got to sleep in. When I woke up, I called my friends.
“Come over tonight, let’s plan”
Jivana's Memoirs 47I wanted to care that I had missed work, but honestly that week had gone by in a flash. It’s like all my circuits had been fried and the reset buttom was pushed for me. I was in the midst of booting back up with different software.
I had cocooned myself up in sheets and robes for most of that week, my body a shell or an old skin I was casting away. That week was like a hibernation period. I did not come out of that week with new wings, but a new, and unfamiliar attitude. Unfortunately for Victor, hat did not include caring about working or career politics. I was new, I was something else, but I didn’t know what that was yet.
During this time I had not really been talking to my friends. I couldn’t, well, I didn’t want to speak on the phone. I found myself a recluse. Just so they knew I wasn’t dead or dying, I would text back and forth with them but not about anything deep, not about anything that had hap
Jivana's Memoirs 46Yes, Victor Koch certainly did need me. He didn’t know what he was doing in his new position. He didn’t even know what he was doing in his last position. He had no good ideas of his own, but he knew I did. We were friends, a long time ago we were lovers, but what he wanted me for, what he needed me for was to make him look good in his new position. And he had confidence that I would help him because he knew that Jacqueline was a motivated working girl.
But I wasn’t Jacqueline. I was Jivana.
Jivana's Memoirs 45Monday came and somehow I had managed to get myself into the office. I think I had renewed my spirit my spending most of the weekend on my lounge chairs by my pool. Ignoring everything, trying not to think, doing everything within my power in fact, not to.
Some people call that meditation; intuitively, for me, it was survival.
As I walked in to work that Monday morning, I felt like all eyes were on me. Everyone on their headset that I passed knew I had walked in the room. Anyone that had been working there longer than 6 months said good morning to me, anyone that I had worked with for over a year seemed to say with their eyes “Oh good you’re okay, we’ll try talking with you later”. Finally I got to my office and there in my chair with his feet up on my desk was Victor Koch, surrounded with gift baskets, flower arrangements and balloons. So many in fact, I could barely see him through it, but I knew it was him.
At first I stopp
Dream a Reachunsilence the words
that your tongue
can't find or form
sing something new
sing an angel's wing
from tongue to sky
shake the undone and fly
like a dead jesus
i speak in tongues
less true than infinite
we dream unguided
the eras and acts
that we hold up
as our crowning
(before we can fly)
i burn another pocket
into the side of the fire
inhabitable, but captive
i put my hand in
my life in
and faith, i pound you
into every hole
and cosmic pore
between atoms and reactions
(so i can fly)
a broken sky
has dropped its fire
over eternity's shipwreck
and i sweat
alien notes, tempos
i wish and whisper
into the only air pocket
left on earth
(so it can fly)
and i'm back
within the deep again
of this heavy unbreathing
mask sewn shut
i still, and forever,
dream a reach, flight
into a safe sky
a sunrise, sunset,
(that i can remember)
quantum processself is contrivance
strip Newtonian garb
we are ghostly
neutrinos flash through
we are not
we are both
we are neither
we know not what is
we never shall
we think ourselves real
llp - dA - sep2014
INFINITELY LILITHI am not dead for I cannot die,
once Man thought I could be easily misused,
exiling me to an epilogue no longer remembered
as he blotted out my blush from staining
the Earth's chrysalis rind, if only he knew
that beneath my touch knowledge took root
and pumpkins were hollowed out into shapes
-seedless and skinless-as infinite as the mind.
I am not dead, I cannot die
for I am the memory of primevel bliss,
though blackened my skeleton still exists,
licking the Silence clean so my name can
bite more soundly, a thousand serpents hiss
from my nebula center, welcoming to me
my children who bring the blood that feeds
my dessicated garden, ravenously growing,
I cannot regret for I live too purely to repent
the pushing and prodding of my blossoms to be
known by the timeless exuberance of eons past,
in the Moonlight I move and speak of dark things
not really dead and the light not really blessed
without me being known first, infinitely I say
I am not dead for I cannot die.
I am Lilith.
Friend of EternityFriends here and friends there
Forever and ever.
Friends come and go
And friends leave and stay.
To the ones with loneliness in the halls of their hearts
A message greater than any political speech will rock the nation.
All hands and knees shall hear the praise of praises
And to the nation, praises will light up the world of the nation.
To the ones with hopelessness and to the ones who sink in the sand
Will hear the hope and the love of all nations.
The message to the nation that is in dire need of hearing hope
Will hear even my praise soar over the mountains to the oceans.
No matter who you are
No matter where you have been
No matter what you look like
There is a love greater than any love and brings nations to their knees.
A love that makes beating hears roar like lions
And a love that calls out the kings of all nations.
A love that is greater than any love
And will sing through the ages till the day comes.
Sinners of all nations; your hearts bow before the one who did it all
Now, BecauseNow is the time to be tough.
Even though you don't want to be,
even though you'd rather just weep.
Now is the time to be strong.
Even though everything in you cries,
screams against it.
Now is the time to be happy.
Even though all you care about is fading,
falling rapidly into the background.
Because weeping does nobody good.
Not even you.
Because faltering only hurts you.
Not even screams help.
Because happiness is the glue
that is holding you
that is keeping you
from bursting apart at the seams.
Because even though everything, everything
Is falling away and is meaningless,
("Meaningless! Meaningless!" cries the Teacher)
You still need to ignore your grief
Keep moving and
It'll be fine.
Now is the time to be tough.
Even though it's so hard,
the hardest thing you've ever done.
Now is the time to be strong.
Even though yo
In the WoodsIn the woods my spirit wanders
it goes where now my feet shall follow
the trees, they speak with silent tongues
where wind will pass through every branch
my eyes alight with newfound life
I know this is my lasting home
the ground beneath receives me warmly
soft-spun soil has kissed my feet
the air around has touched me deeply
soaking in my every pore
the birds are singing in the trees
with peeping frogs drawn up and down
the waters of the streams are murm’ring
the distance now is not so far
and what is near is father still
the world it breathes in through the roots
where my soul is rising to
digging deep in untold heights
my spirit wanders with the breeze
here is where my people lived
where they fought and drank and built and died
the forest is our endless home
whence our finest tribes did hail
fare we well to come back home now
to bring soft flesh to bare
bear it out along the way
softest skin on rough hewn bark
the palm may breathe in with the wood
and out the lungs give a cath
The Lost Who WanderI find myself
at the feet of a god,
not with expectation,
praying falsely for
of divine intervention,
but out of sheer desperation,
like those who murmur
prayers to St. Jude,
within the darkness
where there is none
over the rocks
with the blind,
not counting how many
along the way,
all to hear enigmatic
from the parched
of a mad woman
with hallucinatory visions
living in a cave
which sweeps over me
in waves of nausea.
I martyr myself
for your pain,
and grieve unaccountably
for your loss,
it seers through me,
like St. Sebastian
I find myself penetrated
full of holes, bearing the marks
of a guilt which should
never have been my own.
But that dose not entirely
absolve me, there is
no escape from my own
all I can do is watch you
and wait for dead prayers
to be answered
by the indifferent
sages who devour
our fates making
bets as they attempt
Psalm of the BrokenIn Your eyes O Lord,
I have done evil.
Evil that followed me since the day I was conceived
But evil that has no power over You.
O Lord, the creator of the universe and the friend to all sinners
You have overcome ever summit of this dying land.
Every mountain, You climbed and still remain holy
Even storms bow to Your glory.
Hear my cries O God, for my bones are broken and my heart in agony.
Forgive me and turn this brokenness into a song.
To feel Your spirit flow in my as I weep
And to see You light up the atmosphere of my broken soul.
Purify my soul once more my King
And do not hide me from Your console.
I have sinned against You, but I lay them at Your throne
Just to purify my soul whiter than snow.
Give me living water to drink and bread to eat
I thirst and hunger for You.
You weep for me and weep with me, but You have the power to restore a broken soul
And You turn my brokenness into a song of Your glory.
You are the one God and the King of Kings
And there is none like You.
Touching Hopethe sea roars
our oil rig rave
we dance between oceans,
primordial and cosmic;
both taunting us.
dance harder -
pour more sweat and soul
into those dreams
into those visions
into your future
made in love and protest.
instigated by lasers
i am shot into the sky
trance-ported by an electric eruption
i linger lightly in atmospheric suspension
connected to galactic essence and
a web of patterned light beams
i see my fellow ravers dance below me,
as my head is a geyser of light
kaskading falling surrounding creating
a vortex illuminating our party;
illuminating our deed.
what is this? …
as i hover in the sound field of manifestation-
ah! my hard work tonight has paid off.
i am touching hope.
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scheinbar is a much-loved and well-known deviant. Just one look at her gallery, filled with enchanting photography, will have you mesmerized. A deviant for over 7 years, Christiane can always be found posting inspirational features as well as regularly commenting on other deviations and encouraging and empowering her fellow deviants. We are inspired and insist that you too stop by and congratulate ... Read More