Funny and Not

I'm wondering about all these Adsense type things that I have set up on this site. Right now they're all advertising products to eliminate excessive armpit odor. Come now--where in the purple fuck do I mention armpit odor on this site? Could it be that they can smell me from here? I've been having to shower at work. My shower isn't working. The one in my son's room is still good, but I don't feel right about going in there to shower. So sometimes, admissibly, it's a few days between. Hell, we can't all have the lap of luxury. I can't afford to get the shower fixed. And the last couple of nights I was too tired to go into work in time to get a shower. So I guess I ain't exactly a field of lilies right now. Too fucking bad.
I was mentioning in the last post about my friend's concern over me losing the magical aspect of myself and feeling helpless because even he in all his ethereal ghostliness can't give it back to me. It's exhaustion, stress, pure and simple, and a feeling of giving up on everything because shit has just never worked my way. I have to go for orientation to the nursing program tomorrow, something I really don't want to do. The only reason I'm getting my nursing license is because everything costs so god damn much and I need to be able to make more money. I have no delusions of being Florence Fucking Nightingale. I work with the elderly and unlike some people I treat them with respect rather than condescension. There's some of them who are sour, unpleasant old so and so's, but for the most part, they're just people. I figure, if you've made it to 80 or 90 years old, the least people can do is treat you with respect. Age in this society is seen as something to have disdain for and I think that's wrong. You shouldn't have disdain for anyone based on age, gender, or race. Anybody who disagrees with me can go suck an exhaust pipe. I don't have any tolerance for racism, sexism, ageism, or homophobia.
I have the greatest of respect for caregivers, but I just don't feel like it's my path. I always wanted to work in the arts: writing, acting, drawing cartoons, something. But it's never come together. I feel like I, the real me, what I wanted to be and should be, is trapped in a dead body that refuses to lie down. I never became. And it causes serious distress.
I feel really angry with myself for this. In the past I would have cut myself to bring the poison to the outside. Its counterproductive. I don't do it any more. But I am highly dissatisfied. Why the fuck does the Universe give skills, talents, gifts, whatever to a person and then say "well, fucker, you're on your own. Here's the creek and you ain't got no paddle."
Sometimes I think the powers that be are just straight up sadistic. And for that I fart in their general direction. Maybe they'll send me some of that stuff for excessive sweat, and some of those charcoal liners for excessive gas. Not that I actually have either--at least not at the moment. Just that it would be about what I'd reckon on from the Powers that Be. A break certainly doesn't seem to be "in the cards."

Update

Hello people.

I've been having some health issues and wonder if I really had to go through all this junk just to prove to myself that I cannot take prescription medications except for the occasional dose of antibiotic for severe infections. The thyroid medicine I was on created a case of artificial hyperthyroidism which really messed me up in ways too numerous to mention including elevated blood pressure. The blood pressure medicine has other nasty side effects so I only take it if I really have to. Not good for someone who's bipolar when they forget to take their lithium (I take the natural kind that's available without prescription, and yes, it actually does work. The pharmaceutical stuff is too hardcore.) I had a minor psychotic episode and sent a really stupid email to one of my associates. Nothing as bad as the time when I took a bunch of hallucinogens in high school and called this guy and told him I was in love with him, but stupid anyway. Rude and paranoid, not idiotic declarations of lust. Once I realized that I actually had sent it, I sent another one explaining my lunatic ravings and asking the person to please ignore and delete the first email. I really want to come back in my next life with normal mentation but with the good sense to be creative and off center. Can I please??
I want to do some new things with this blog so as not to give away the entire book too quick. I can be too generous and need to be a bit more stingy (or a bit more of an ass) because after all any profits do go to an excellent and necessary cause. I'll have to figure out just what I want to do because it's become a bit muddled. I'd like it to be a bit more personable and maybe share some thoughts on promoting. Gaaaahhhh...what a nightmare that is!
I haven't been able to sleep yet today and am pretty muddled right now. Hope this post finds you doing better than me!
Blessed be,
Lily

Happy 18th!

In honor of my son's 18th birthday today, here is Alice Cooper from back in the day, in a trippy 70's video. Alice wasn't much more than 18 himself in this one, and I'll bet a week's pay that he was smashed at the time!
A very happy birthday to the world's greatest son, who has put up with having me as a mother all these years. Some people really do deserve a medal!

For my co-author

This was supposed to be published on April 8, in honor of my co-author. And though I didn't remember to do so, I thought of him--and with him--on that date. He chose this.

"There's a stench in the air, which, from this distance underground, might be the smell of either death or of spring--I hope of spring. But don't let me trick you, there is a death in the smell of spring and in the smell of thee as in the smell of me. And if nothing more, invisibility has taught me my nose to classify the stenches of death."
--Ralph Ellison, Invisible Man (1947)

I suffer from springtime depression as well. Most people don't realize it, but the time when suicide rates are highest in the Northern hemisphere is not the recognized December holiday season, but Spring: April specifically.
With the current climate of consciousness, and for me the economic climate in my country of residence, I wonder how we'll ever get our message across. Is everything all in vain? I keep trying, because I think it's very important. Even if it only ever comes across posthumously, I have to do it. For better or worse, it is my calling. He tells me he's sorry for any distress becoming involved in this has caused me. But I don't blame him. I blame all the fuckers putting up roadblocks at every turn!
Someday we'll reflect on what we've gone through. And if in the end we made a difference, we'll celebrate together with the few that dare to see things our way.

Rearranging

I've had some personal and health problems and have been trying to decide whether or not to even keep this blog. I've had people ask me why I'm giving my product away for free. The first book is a bit of a sacrifice book if more are to come. And yes, anyone with the patience of a saint will eventually be able to get the whole book here, free. That is, if you want to wait about 5 years. Someone who's actually getting into it isn't going to want to wait that long, when there's an e-book available for $5. And there are always those who are just cruising now but might suddenly say "hey wait a minute--come on, what happens next? Damn you, I can't wait another month until you decide to post again!"
That is, in fact, what I'll be doing from now on is posting a chapter a month. I've got too many other things going on, one of them being working on the second book. The blogs I work on more often are comedy, for the purposes of stress relief. It's cheaper than a therapist.
The next chapter will be coming your way soon.
Lily

Section 2: Poem

We will begin section 2 today, starting with the poem "Annabel Lee" by Edgar Allan Poe to set the atmosphere.

Section II: Of Things Lost

Annabel Lee
It was many and many a year ago
In a kingdom by the sea
That a maiden there lived whom you may know
By the name of Annabel Lee
And this maiden she lived with no other thought
Than to love and be loved by me

I was a child and she was a child
In this kingdom by the sea
But we loved with a love that was more than love—
I and my Annabel Lee
With a love that the winged seraphs in Heaven
Coveted her and me

And this was the reason that long ago
In this kingdom by the sea
A wind blew out of a cloud, chilling
My beautiful Annabel Lee
So that her high-born kinsman came
And bore her away from me
To shut her up in a sepulchre
In this kingdom by the sea

The angels, not so happy in heaven
Went envying her and me—
Yes!—that was the reason (as all men know,
In this kingdom by the sea)
That the wind came out of the cloud by night
Chilling and killing my Annabel Lee

But our love it was stronger by far than the love
Of those who were older than we—
Of many far wiser than we—
And neither the angels in heaven above
Nor the demons down under the sea
Can ever dissever my soul from the soul
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee

For the moon never beams, without bringing me dreams
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee
And so, all the night-tide, I lie down by the side
Of my darling—my darling—my life and my bride
In the sepulchre there by the sea
In her tomb by the sounding sea
—Edgar Allan Poe

Announcements

Part II will begin next Friday. I've been ill.

The story contest is off. People seem to find them more intimidating than inspiring. No fun there. If anyone still feels inspired to write a story you're welcome to. But there's no contest.
I hope I'm not opening a can of worms by asking this, but although I see subscribers I sometimes wonder if anyone reads what's here. If nobody does, then there's not much sense rolling Section II.
I know it's hard to comment on other people's work without sounding like one of those rude, critical types. I find it hard to comment on creative work as well. Still, sometimes it seems like the thing people liked most on this blog was the 10 searches to blog post. I daresay...what does this say about my and my spooky chum's writing??
I'll throw one out there--what the fuck. I feel like ass, which isn't inspiring any work on the second book just now.

1. The first search is asking for Lisa Ohlin's brother. Here's the facts as I know them. Mr. Ohlin's sister is Anna. His mother was named Lisa. He had three brothers: Johan, Daniel and Anders. His father's name was Mikael. And his comment to your grouchy, disease-laden medium is "MR. Ohlin? Are you fucking kidding me??" And that one good thing about being a ghost is that he can't catch what I have because it's fucking wicked. Right you are, Doctor. But I don't think the suggestion of cutting my head off is particularly beneficial. While it may help in the short term, we won't exactly get the second book published if I do that.
Oh yeah--this query led to this post. The inquirer was Russian. I couldn't understand what they wrote. I wonder if they could understand what I said.
If you ever use the Babelfish to translate a page into another language, it turns out pretty funny sometimes.

2. The number of perverts I get to this blog really amazes me and I am now reaching for my barf bucket. Y'all need a psychiatrist. Let me make it clear. WE DO NOT HAVE ANY INCESTUOUS AUNT AND NEPHEW STORIES HERE! Nor WILL we have any incestuous aunt and nephew stories here. We don't like incest. Although some reporters for the Crappy Times apparently like sex with insects. Now quit asking! And go get some help.
All roads traveled by those looking for sex with their aunt or nephew seem to lead here.

3. The search for Barry Dillard ended here. Barry says "haloooo!" He may or may not realize that he's not the Barry you were looking for.

4. Oh my--I kind of feel bad about this. Some searchers came here looking for salvation. Or at least communion. Sorry, y'all. The only kinds of communion you'll find are this kind and this kind. And certainly no salvation. Abandon hope, all ye who enter here!

5. Someone was looking for the Beneath the Surface poem. I don't know if this is what they were looking for, but if it is, I'm happy to help. We wrote it ourselves as an introduction to the book!

6. A gentleman queried for "man looking for man in Dubui." Poor dude must have been a tad startled when he got this. I hope he found a decent dating service instead.

7. Ok, you sick pervert! This one was looking for "aunt makes nephew jerk off." They found this and I hope they were VERY VERY VERY disappointed! Puke!
Let me make something very clear. INCEST. DESTROYS. LIVES. We do not and never will condone it. Period.

8. This one was looking for Adam Finch. They weren't looking for this, I gar-on-tee! But that's what they found!

9. This person was looking for Lisa and Nasir in love. I know this isn't what they were looking for, but it's what they got. Oh yeah--good luck to Lisa and Nasir!

10. That Adam Finch is a popular dude. Either that, or he's been really, really bad. Once again, here he is!

Now if you'll all excuse me I need to go hack up a lung. And we won't even go there about the digestive issues! With my luck, that would turn some creep on too!

Snarky Lily