Post by Eternity on Jan 23, 2015 22:59:10 GMT
Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I fear no evil, for you are with me; your rod and your staff, they comfort me.
In the darkness you hear my words, my voice.
I have heard these words uttered many times in my young life, or at least I have many memories of many voices singing me to sleep with these words, and every time I hear this same sweet song, I remember it a little differently. Each night I dwell on the sentiment, it seems just a little off key. Not too much, just a little. Just enough for my finely tuned ear to notice the difference.
Not everybody is blessed with this gift though my love, I know this. I learned this a long time ago.
Even though I walk through the darkest valley, I will not be afraid, for you are close beside me. Your rod and your staff, they protect and comfort me.
In the gathering smoke around you, you hear my call, my song.
Words often spoken as a declaration of faith, heard as the mad ramblings of a fool.
Only a fool knows no fear, my love and only a fool knows comfort.
We have never been fools, have we my sweet? We have always known fear, we have never known comfort, have we honey? For we have never walked among the shadows, we have always danced.
In the clearing before you, you see a dead eyed doll, a painted face.
Both familiar and unfamiliar at the same time. She moves and she dances to a different tune, this sweet child o' mine.
You see a lock of raven hair being rubbed gently down the spine of my little Rayne. The chill of my touch runs down her stiff wooden spine and though she doesn't know why she feels winter's grasp all of a sudden, she only knows of the pleasure that passes between us. Unspoken.
Enjoy the fruits of your passion whilst you can, baby.
It never lasts.
You see the doll set aside and that is when our eyes meet once again, this is our time once more.
Hush little baby, don't say a word.
I have always tried to teach you this lesson, Lexi, but you never listen, at least not until it is far too late. Mama knows best darling, she always has. If you never learn to swallow your pride, you will always have to eat your words. I hope you like the taste, babe. I knew you'd be back, I knew you'd need me again, a child always needs her mother, and unlike your father, and unlike Mike, you will always need me.
Life lived, lesson learned. That is my fondest hope for you, Lexi.
I hope you learn to hold that pretty little tongue of yours from now on, it would be such a shame to cut it out, wouldn't it? So think before you speak my little mockingbird. You may have flown the nest, but you will never fly any higher. Not unless I allow it.
Not unless I let you go.
That's the hardest thing for a mother to do, Alexis. I hope you can understand how hard this is for me. I just can't let you go, I just can't let you spread your wings, I just can't let you fly away, baby bird. At least not yet, not until you've learned your lesson. Not until you are sorry. Not until you are on your knees. Not until you are begging, pleading, crying.
Just like I remember.
Apologise to Mama, admit that you will always need me. Know that without me, without my blessing, you will never make your mark on this world. It isn't a threat, no, no, no, I could never threaten you. You will always be my special little girl. Special in so many ways. Terminally misguided, misinformed, mistaken. Remember, little one, you have so much to learn and so little time.
Listen to me when I say I don't want to ground you, I don't want to stop you from living what little life has been afforded you, but I know also my role as a responsible parent. I know when you need a little whack on the back of your knee every now and then. A little discipline, just like my mother taught me. It didn't hurt so much, not after a while anyway.
If I let you talk that way to me again, your sisters Izzy and Rayne will think I would let you get away with murder. That you are my favourite, and I just can't do that. Death doesn't play favourites, it teaches us all lessons, some we learn quickly, some we learn slowly and others we may never learn until it's far far too late for any of us.
Is it too late, for you Alexis?
I hope not, dear, I truly hope not. For your sake. I want to be a good mother. I want to be the one who would sacrifice it all for the good of her child, so tell me Lexi, give me one good reason why you deserve to be set free. Out of all the pretty squawking little cockatoos, why should I let you out of your golden cage? Why should I sacrifice myself for somebody who only last week told me she didn't want me, she didn't need me for anything?
Look who needs me now, look who needs her sister Izzy.
Look who needs her family to help her reach for the stars that live in her mind. You won't get there, you won't get anywhere, not this Sunday, nor the next, without any of us. Without our love. Without the selfless sacrifice that only a loving mother can make for her daughter. A sacrifice made not only out of love, but out of knowing that love is reciprocated, returned.
Tell me, tell Izzy, tell the world. Tell us all if you still love me.
I need to hear it in your voice, I need to see it on your eyes, I need to smell it in your hair, I need to touch it on your skin and I need to taste it in your blood, Alexis. That is how our little game of give and take will go. You give me something, I give you something. You sacrifice, I sacrifice. You change, I change. You love, I love. That's how our little game will go.
This little game of ours.
You have your players, I have mine.
You have mercy, I have none.
That's the difference between us, dear daughter. The key. Sweet, sweet Mercy. How much you have shown me, how little I have shown you. Such tight thighs and such a loose tongue. Such a bad influence on my dear daughter.
You see me wag my finger and hear me tut.
Such a ball of hot gas. No wonder you think you belong among the rest of them, the stars. Like a Diamond in the sky, never understanding what it means. Such a fool, leading my baby astray. The blind leading the blind. A perfect demonstration of the twisted sense of humour of life.
You have yet to master your own fate, yet seek to dictate the fate of others.
What makes you worthy of such a grand prize, Vargas? My uncle always said people in glass houses shouldn't throw stones, but thats all you have ever done. You try to throw them all at me, see what sticks, nothing. Nothing!
NOTHING!
You see me shake my head in a most childlike manner.
No, no, no. In one ear and out the other, you have no right to talk about MY belt. My reign. My sweet, sweet Rayne. It's all a matter of time, we will have our time soon once more, I know it, I know it. Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow, but soon and for the rest of your life.
Like regret, it lingers around you, it can rain all the time, and for you Mercy, it often has. It will rain again. It will rain for an eternity. An eternity in which she blossoms and blooms, my little flower, my best friend, my child.
My Isabella.
To know mercy, to understand its weakness, she must face it. Confront it. Exploit it time and again until she realises her gift, until she understands why she is my darling. Money and desire are simple enough vices, simple enough ditties that the whole world can dance to, so I understand why you yearn to claim it all for yourself. I understand your needs as if you too were my very own flesh and blood Vargas, but I have never known you. I have never known mercy. Never. In all my life.
I only know you exist, the dirty step sister of desperation.
Your name fits you well, you want to hear the call, the chant, the screams for you. But at its very best, at its core, this is a merciless business and my friends and I, we have shown you over and over and over again that you do not belong. You are a square trying to fit a circle. I tried that once. It didn't work out so well. How many more times must we do this?
Go round and around and around in circles. Going nowhere fast. Turning nobody's head but you're own. Crane your neck any further in our direction and it will snap, dear girl. No threats, no promises, and no apologies. Just simple biology.
You know my therapists always said doing things over and over was the definition of insanity. They were wrong, it is the definition of boredom. You bore me Vargas, you talk and you talk and you talk, but you actually DO nothing. Nothing substantial has ever happened in your life or your career, at least for not very long and that's a real shame, a tragedy in fact.
Life can be such a wonderful musical melody if you just stop singing one note and just start listening. To me. To Izzy. To Rayne. To one of us, more than one of us, to all of us. I don't care, just listen...
You see me cup my right ear, and wait.
Do you hear it?
Silence.
Isn't it glorious?
Silence.
That is the sound of madness.
Silence.
That is the moment of memory. The moment you remember enough to keep breathing, but not enough to do anything with your life. You have a mind for recalling every little detail, every success, every failure, no matter how big or how small, because to you it all matters, to you it gives you an edge, but that's the great punchline of this life Mercedes, to the rest of us, none of it matters.
In the end, everybody else moves on. Everybody except you.
Then one day it dawns on you, just how long you've been here, waiting for that one moment where it all makes sense.
Feels like an eternity, doesn't it?
In the darkness you hear my words, my voice.
I have heard these words uttered many times in my young life, or at least I have many memories of many voices singing me to sleep with these words, and every time I hear this same sweet song, I remember it a little differently. Each night I dwell on the sentiment, it seems just a little off key. Not too much, just a little. Just enough for my finely tuned ear to notice the difference.
Not everybody is blessed with this gift though my love, I know this. I learned this a long time ago.
Even though I walk through the darkest valley, I will not be afraid, for you are close beside me. Your rod and your staff, they protect and comfort me.
In the gathering smoke around you, you hear my call, my song.
Words often spoken as a declaration of faith, heard as the mad ramblings of a fool.
Only a fool knows no fear, my love and only a fool knows comfort.
We have never been fools, have we my sweet? We have always known fear, we have never known comfort, have we honey? For we have never walked among the shadows, we have always danced.
In the clearing before you, you see a dead eyed doll, a painted face.
Both familiar and unfamiliar at the same time. She moves and she dances to a different tune, this sweet child o' mine.
You see a lock of raven hair being rubbed gently down the spine of my little Rayne. The chill of my touch runs down her stiff wooden spine and though she doesn't know why she feels winter's grasp all of a sudden, she only knows of the pleasure that passes between us. Unspoken.
Enjoy the fruits of your passion whilst you can, baby.
It never lasts.
You see the doll set aside and that is when our eyes meet once again, this is our time once more.
Hush little baby, don't say a word.
I have always tried to teach you this lesson, Lexi, but you never listen, at least not until it is far too late. Mama knows best darling, she always has. If you never learn to swallow your pride, you will always have to eat your words. I hope you like the taste, babe. I knew you'd be back, I knew you'd need me again, a child always needs her mother, and unlike your father, and unlike Mike, you will always need me.
Life lived, lesson learned. That is my fondest hope for you, Lexi.
I hope you learn to hold that pretty little tongue of yours from now on, it would be such a shame to cut it out, wouldn't it? So think before you speak my little mockingbird. You may have flown the nest, but you will never fly any higher. Not unless I allow it.
Not unless I let you go.
That's the hardest thing for a mother to do, Alexis. I hope you can understand how hard this is for me. I just can't let you go, I just can't let you spread your wings, I just can't let you fly away, baby bird. At least not yet, not until you've learned your lesson. Not until you are sorry. Not until you are on your knees. Not until you are begging, pleading, crying.
Just like I remember.
Apologise to Mama, admit that you will always need me. Know that without me, without my blessing, you will never make your mark on this world. It isn't a threat, no, no, no, I could never threaten you. You will always be my special little girl. Special in so many ways. Terminally misguided, misinformed, mistaken. Remember, little one, you have so much to learn and so little time.
Listen to me when I say I don't want to ground you, I don't want to stop you from living what little life has been afforded you, but I know also my role as a responsible parent. I know when you need a little whack on the back of your knee every now and then. A little discipline, just like my mother taught me. It didn't hurt so much, not after a while anyway.
If I let you talk that way to me again, your sisters Izzy and Rayne will think I would let you get away with murder. That you are my favourite, and I just can't do that. Death doesn't play favourites, it teaches us all lessons, some we learn quickly, some we learn slowly and others we may never learn until it's far far too late for any of us.
Is it too late, for you Alexis?
I hope not, dear, I truly hope not. For your sake. I want to be a good mother. I want to be the one who would sacrifice it all for the good of her child, so tell me Lexi, give me one good reason why you deserve to be set free. Out of all the pretty squawking little cockatoos, why should I let you out of your golden cage? Why should I sacrifice myself for somebody who only last week told me she didn't want me, she didn't need me for anything?
Look who needs me now, look who needs her sister Izzy.
Look who needs her family to help her reach for the stars that live in her mind. You won't get there, you won't get anywhere, not this Sunday, nor the next, without any of us. Without our love. Without the selfless sacrifice that only a loving mother can make for her daughter. A sacrifice made not only out of love, but out of knowing that love is reciprocated, returned.
Tell me, tell Izzy, tell the world. Tell us all if you still love me.
I need to hear it in your voice, I need to see it on your eyes, I need to smell it in your hair, I need to touch it on your skin and I need to taste it in your blood, Alexis. That is how our little game of give and take will go. You give me something, I give you something. You sacrifice, I sacrifice. You change, I change. You love, I love. That's how our little game will go.
This little game of ours.
You have your players, I have mine.
You have mercy, I have none.
That's the difference between us, dear daughter. The key. Sweet, sweet Mercy. How much you have shown me, how little I have shown you. Such tight thighs and such a loose tongue. Such a bad influence on my dear daughter.
You see me wag my finger and hear me tut.
Such a ball of hot gas. No wonder you think you belong among the rest of them, the stars. Like a Diamond in the sky, never understanding what it means. Such a fool, leading my baby astray. The blind leading the blind. A perfect demonstration of the twisted sense of humour of life.
You have yet to master your own fate, yet seek to dictate the fate of others.
What makes you worthy of such a grand prize, Vargas? My uncle always said people in glass houses shouldn't throw stones, but thats all you have ever done. You try to throw them all at me, see what sticks, nothing. Nothing!
NOTHING!
You see me shake my head in a most childlike manner.
No, no, no. In one ear and out the other, you have no right to talk about MY belt. My reign. My sweet, sweet Rayne. It's all a matter of time, we will have our time soon once more, I know it, I know it. Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow, but soon and for the rest of your life.
Like regret, it lingers around you, it can rain all the time, and for you Mercy, it often has. It will rain again. It will rain for an eternity. An eternity in which she blossoms and blooms, my little flower, my best friend, my child.
My Isabella.
To know mercy, to understand its weakness, she must face it. Confront it. Exploit it time and again until she realises her gift, until she understands why she is my darling. Money and desire are simple enough vices, simple enough ditties that the whole world can dance to, so I understand why you yearn to claim it all for yourself. I understand your needs as if you too were my very own flesh and blood Vargas, but I have never known you. I have never known mercy. Never. In all my life.
I only know you exist, the dirty step sister of desperation.
Your name fits you well, you want to hear the call, the chant, the screams for you. But at its very best, at its core, this is a merciless business and my friends and I, we have shown you over and over and over again that you do not belong. You are a square trying to fit a circle. I tried that once. It didn't work out so well. How many more times must we do this?
Go round and around and around in circles. Going nowhere fast. Turning nobody's head but you're own. Crane your neck any further in our direction and it will snap, dear girl. No threats, no promises, and no apologies. Just simple biology.
You know my therapists always said doing things over and over was the definition of insanity. They were wrong, it is the definition of boredom. You bore me Vargas, you talk and you talk and you talk, but you actually DO nothing. Nothing substantial has ever happened in your life or your career, at least for not very long and that's a real shame, a tragedy in fact.
Life can be such a wonderful musical melody if you just stop singing one note and just start listening. To me. To Izzy. To Rayne. To one of us, more than one of us, to all of us. I don't care, just listen...
You see me cup my right ear, and wait.
Do you hear it?
Silence.
Isn't it glorious?
Silence.
That is the sound of madness.
Silence.
That is the moment of memory. The moment you remember enough to keep breathing, but not enough to do anything with your life. You have a mind for recalling every little detail, every success, every failure, no matter how big or how small, because to you it all matters, to you it gives you an edge, but that's the great punchline of this life Mercedes, to the rest of us, none of it matters.
In the end, everybody else moves on. Everybody except you.
Then one day it dawns on you, just how long you've been here, waiting for that one moment where it all makes sense.
Feels like an eternity, doesn't it?
Well howdy there pardner.