Someone call David Kay

I think eBay might have found some of those weapons of mass destruction.

Teresa.

Leo Loves Hillary

A conversation with myself.

A house divided against itself cannot stand. No man can serve two masters.

How about a woman? How many can one woman serve, or how many are needed to serve one?

Be serious. "Man" implies humanity. These are Biblical truths and in my opinion they are simply, true.

If it is a Biblical truth, what does it mean for you to have an opinion on it?

I have this opinion:
No religion in the world can stand as they currently are.
No human schema will continue as they currently are.

The cycle of conflict, chaos, reordering, instability, conflict, chaos...is inevitable.

Why do you say that? I agree that things change, but why is the cycle you mention inevitable?

1. There is Pride in Power (which must be wielded, either for good or bad or a combo of purposes).

2. Power leads to Corruption.

3. Corruption leads to Instability.

4. Instability leads to Conflict.

5. Conflict leads to Reordering (coup d'état)
6. Reordering leads to New (better or worse) Power

7. Repeat step 1 through 7.

It is a undeniable fact that humanity suffers from wanton greed and a lust for power. If you want something "take it". Look back throughout history. Name your empires. They may have fallen, but they always rise from their own corrupt ashes. Same song, different tune. For these reasons, I believe there must be for the sake of logic, one schema, one exemplar outside the human paradigm.

What logic requires you to do that? Humans have improved their living conditions through the centuries, so why is logical to assume that they cannot continue to do so?

You call this world system an improvement? Read the news. Things are not getting easier, just more and more chaotic.

But, I have peace. Extraordinary peace.

Teresa.

This is dated May 2007

I am not oblivious to you: a medium-framed, dark, maniacal figure hiding in my peripheral vision. Your eyes stare straight through me like tiny needle-like projections, probing my existence. A peculiar feeling, but I keep on walking. Besides, I never lose my cool... At least I pretend not to.

I shift my attention to the sound of my boots click, click, clacking on the jaded cobblestone pathway, the one that possibly leads to my fate. The sound ricochets off the buildings that line this little street, and loom overhead like ominous gods. I ignore the fact that my setting is less than picturesque. "Focus on the sound, and on getting home", I say repeatedly to myself. My pace quickens.

This rhythmic song and dance I've created is both calming and aggravating at the same time. It takes my mind off of you stalking me in the shadows, but it covers up your sound. That gives you a major advantage. I want to be aware of you. I want to be prepared... well more prepared than I already am. I think this is a self-defense mechanism that my mind designed to help me through such an eery situation. A lone woman walking down a dark and narrow alley, with some creep slinking after her. It's the epitome of a doomed situation and stupidity. When the Living becomes the Dead. When Predator meets prey.

I think I should stop psyching myself out, but my mind continues to race. My heart rate increases, and I feel my face and neck get flushed and clammy. I am exasperated, but the adrenaline just keeps me right on going. I wish I could call out to anyone, or even duck into some coffee shop or convenience store, but there seems to be nothing around that is still open at this hour. Just great. I wonder how I always seem to get myself into these situations. I don't even think Houdini could get himself outta this one. But I guess, like him, I was just too goddamn stubborn. Too proud. Too independent. Too trusting. "No, no I'll be okay. I promise, I just have to walk a little bit to make it to the Taxi stop.... right down the street," I had said earlier to my friends as we were ending our little soirée. Boy, do I ever regret that because, Ira. you need to leave me alone.

I wonder when you had realized that I would be walking alone... if you had been watching me all along. Sick bastards like you always seem to get away with that sort of shit. All of a sudden thinking of you and the fact that I would probably end up maimed and dismembered left me furious. I can't believe this is what everything boiled down to! The possibility of some hobo finding me in a nearby dumpster mortified and frustrated me. My life didn't flash right before my eyes, but images of you taking it away from me did. I pictured you having me in the worst of ways, being unable to struggle free, to survive. Suddenly, I didn't feel so hot. I didn't feel so prepared. Just helpless and afraid. Weak, even. Why can't you just leave me alone!

Teresa.

I'm not good at being alone

In fact, I hate being alone. Anywhere, in my home, in the grocery store, in an empty office. Even taking time for myself. I think I've forgotton how to enjoy my own company. I need human touch. I need to feel the warmth of another person next to me. I need to be hugged. I need conversation. I need someone to talk with, someone to argue with. I need the presence of another human being.

The smell of his skin.
The familiar tone of my sister's laugh.
The way my mom smokes her cigarette and blows it up into the air while watching TV.
Children fighting.
My Uncle Ted cooking fatty bacon in his boxers.
My dad at the mouth harp[playing it very well].
My brothers playing horseshoes.
Arguments at reunions.
My bitchy old Aunt.
My sister giving me advice I don’t need.
And a great big juicy hamburger off the BB-Q.

I need it all.

Without it, I am alone. My mind takes me to far away places. Sometimes they're silly. Sometimes they're places I don't want to go. I need more friends. I don't need more television. I need human companionship. I'm not one of those people who can disappear for hours by herself. I'm not one to venture out into the city all alone for a day. To sit solitary, still and quiet in a movie theater.

I remember how it felt to eat lunch alone sometimes in univarsity. Everyone else buzzed around me as I sat at my empty table. I always brought something to read. I knew I couldn't face it otherwise. I couldn't sit there and look around at everyone. I couldn't meet their eyes. Because I was alone. And in my head that made them better than me.

I'm not sure why I hate being alone so much. Because I know that we're all alone at some point in our lives. We're born alone, solitary beings. And eventually we find a special person, have a family of our own. Yet in old age, so many of us find ourselves alone once more.

Somehow, we all make it work. Why can't I?

When did I become so afraid of myself? When did my mind take this hold on me? I think learning to be with yourself--and only yourself--is a vital part of living. Learning to be completely independent, soul, mind and body, is very special. And maybe it takes a lifetime for some people. Maybe it took my grandmother most of her life to learn to live alone. Or maybe she knew how all along.

Maybe she was perfectly happy with her little dog if she had one, her nice community, her Harlquin Romance novels. Or maybe she wasn’t. Either way, I know she missed my grandfather. I know she never stoped yearning for that essential part of her life. I know she always longed for that human touch.

I realize that I need to learn to be alone. I realize that I need to accomplish that before I can settle down with someone, before I can move on with my life. But I also realize that companionship is a fundamental need. It's crucial to my happiness, crucial to who I am at my very core.

In 10 years, I could be the strongest, most independent woman in the world, but that won't change this one fact:

I need people.

Teresa.