Honestly, the most reasonable exchange I’ve seen concerning this latest drama

From PSVL’s post, or rather, the comments:

Christine Hoff Kraemer:
I have to admit, as someone who has to moderate the comments on some of this stuff, it’s hard for me to be sympathetic with Sannion’s remarks that “polytheists stay in their own spaces” and “polytheists don’t engage in mudslinging personal attacks.” People of all kinds of different viewpoints have been extremely inappropriate in each other’s spaces. I don’t read Tumblr or all the blogs, so I certainly haven’t seen the whole exchange, but it’s clear to me that writers from various perspectives feel attacked, bullied, and threatened, and when I look at the posts they’re quoting, I can see why.

There’s a slight difference, though, in that the polytheist bloggers seem to be hanging together as an identifiable group, while many of those getting in tussles with them have no significant community backing them up. Strongly polytheist-identified people are, admittedly, a small group, so I can see why that might lend itself to a feeling of being persecuted or marginalized. But to those outside of it who are not particularly invested in the issues at hand, polytheist-identified writers are starting to look like the kind of close-knit, passionate small group that might actually try to hurt someone else.

I don’t think that’s actually the case, since I have a longer-term context for the conversations, but I can see where the perception is coming from. Several polytheists have made remarks to the effect they’re struggling with a powerful, united Pagan front of nay-sayers. But to those who are arguing with them, polytheists are the ones with the united front. The values of interfaith originally came from a peacebuilding movement that was designed to minimize violence, and several polytheist writers have recently come out vocally against those values. I’m not sure they fully realize what that looks like to those outside the hard polytheist movement.

For me, it’s a shame. I’ve been supportive of the hard polytheist perspective because I share some major tenants with it, but it’s become clear to me that because my religious experiences are not exclusively in that vein (and that I therefore I have a different theology), I’m considered an enemy by some of the major bloggers. That makes me sad.

Anyway, I comment because I find you to be a reasonable human being, and I suspect that it’s not immediately obvious how hard polytheists can look like a uniform, united group to those not involved. I think it might be healthy for strongly polytheist-identified people and groups to break away more completely from contemporary Paganism (a similar split in my tradition, though very painful, was ultimately healthy). But I also hope that people like yourself who are interested in other religions and other kinds of Paganism will continue to engage in dialogue with them.

aediculaantinoi/PSVL:
Though, having gone through some online arguments before in which the other side ran out of valid intellectual points to make, and then started saying “Well, why should we trust your opinion at all? You’re an admitted faggot, and you don’t even know what gender you are, and you belong to an LJ group called ‘Dark Christian,’ which must mean you’re actually not pagan at all,” I can sort of see what Sannion was indicating by those remarks. It didn’t take long for people to start getting entirely personal with him on some of these matters, and to be saying disparaging things about him and his various relationships, and then about one of his partners in particular…While I don’t think that any kind of personal attack is ever a good idea, the fact that he didn’t go there initially is to be noted, I think.

But, the larger point he was making is that polytheists don’t just show up in the comments of non-polytheists’ blogs and such and start in with “But don’t you think it would be better if…” or “Don’t you realize…” or the ever-popular “UR DOIN IT WRONG.” We do tend to keep to ourselves, and to read each other’s blogs and comment on them. Non-polytheists, on the other hand, do come to our blogs and ask those sorts of questions, and in essence ask us to account for their viewpoints and include them in our discourses, when it is not appropriate for us to do so based on our own experiences. When we do show up in non-polytheists’ blogs (as with The Allergic Pagan recently), it is to correct the summations of our viewpoints that are given by people who don’t sympathize with them, and are thus often simply making a minor disagreement into a major pejorative statement of one faction against another. While some personal attacks have gone on as well in that process, and I am not happy about that nor do I approve of it, nonetheless it usually begins with one faction quoting (or misquoting) another, then attempts at clarification either being successful or not, and then frustration sets in, and it all goes downhill from there.

The reality is that polytheists are a tiny minority, even though we are a vocal one, and do at least agree on certain matters (e.g. the definition of polytheism). That reality is at odds with the perceptions of the larger majority of non-polytheist pagans is not our fault, it is the fault of the perceptions of the larger group. For a group that so often prides itself on “looking beyond the surface of things” and seeing that not everything in life is what it might at first seem, to miss something as obvious as this is not a very good point in the majority’s favor.

We have a choice: we can try to be in touch with other groups and viewpoints, and meanwhile get hounded that our definitions aren’t suitable for that larger group; or, we can retreat to our own spaces of our own volition, and get what we want to done with far less argumentation and trouble from people who don’t agree with our viewpoints. I think it is pretty obvious which option, from a viewpoint that considers the work we do for the gods to be of primary importance, would be preferable. And yet, with what you’re saying here, and how we’ve been treated in a lot of this recent situation, it makes all of the big-tent rhetoric and idealism of the larger pagan movement a great mass of hypocrisy when it comes to this specific issue…and, it really doesn’t have to be that way, but the other factions seem pretty insistent on not understanding how it doesn’t have to be that way.

There is a very big difference between stating one’s beliefs (which is what most polytheists have done), and attempting to force others to accept their beliefs or change their beliefs in order to accommodate one’s own beliefs (which is what the non-polytheists have often demanded of us); and it all really becomes especially useless and moot when the likelihood of many of the people who are doing the latter ever coming to a polytheist’s ritual is almost nil, and even if they did, they would not be required to affirm a particular set of beliefs in order to participate. That’s where the real ironies of this situation begin to become apparent: polytheists are called “belief-based,” when in reality we really don’t care as long as everyone in a ritual is being respectful; and yet the ones concerned about “beliefs” not being “open” enough and such are those who say they’re not “belief-based,” and practice isn’t even a part of the equation in any realistic manner when it comes to their participation.

greekcomputerAnd considering this, I think I’d be best off, personally, with sticking to other polytheists. Before I started interacting in the “biggest tent pagan community”, not only was I mentally undistracted by various dramas, but you know what? I was a lot happier. Things didn’t affect me quite as much, cos there wasn’t the added stress of worrying about whether or not some self-defined “pagan” would flip their shit on me or one of my friends cos “But what about MEEEEEE????? I’m X, too, and I don’t feel like believing in your gods, or doing your rituals, and defining religions is WRONG!!!!”

When there’s an understanding that not only is there going to be a line drawn, but that line is neither good nor bad, it’s just a thing, and it’s there —and while some people are on a path to examine, question, blur, and even deconstruct (which IS NOT synonymous with ” Waterhouse,_JW_-_The_Sorceress_(1913) those boundaries, those boundaries are going to be there for a long time — it will take more than a few Jungian “pagans” on the internet who read Foucault and masturbate to even shift those boundaries.

This has also made me realise that the only two real factions in all this are those who do recognise an authority —from Holy Powers to scholarship and academia— and those who are, to be frank, simply interested in “pagan” religions only as a form of rebellion against mainstream religion and/or mainstream religious discourse Cérès_foulant_aux_pieds_les_attributs_de_la_guerre,_Vouet (after all, we gotta account for the “atheist pagans” somehow, cos they’ve already got people like Penn Jilette and Bill Mahr and Richard Dawkins on to align with, if their only grievance was mainstream religion, by itself, rather than the typical discourse that happens between mainstream religion and its critics —as an aside, at least “atheist pagans” recognise the inherent fallacy of the mainstream Atheist party line, so I don’t get it, but whatever, they’re better than most atheists). Now, I think the latter group clearly misunderstands a lot — like the imprecise nature of academia, and how, like with biological science, knowledge fluctuates, and ideas once held widely become critiqued fairly often and, yes, even discarded if the new knowledge obtained necessitates replacing those old ideas. image005

Privileging academia in paganism isn’t the same thing as privileging the governing body of various Christian sects —academia, as an institution, is a lot more receptive to change, even if individual academics may cling to outdated ideas (so kind of the inverse of how certain Christian sects work, where individuals may be more receptive to change even if the institution is not), and frankly, I was raised to put a higher value on education and intellect academia, at least when it’s a matter that can easily be addressed by said —and this has done me well, so I don’t understand the need to question it. Because I respect the authority of academia, when necessary, I will naturally be at odds with the anti-authoritarians who are incorrigibly hostile toward any sort of defining of anything within paganism, even the loosest, most experience-based, and implicitly opt-in-only definition of “pagan” possible. tumblr_lfns8gyCT51qa6x5yo1_400 To such people, any attempt to define things —to describe its nature and outline its boundaries and to put into clear words a meaning that can be understood— especially “pagan” or “paganism” is to make oneself the enemy. And if you’ve made yourself the enemy, they see nothing wrong with making sure you know you’re not welcome.

So in the interest of xenia, stranger-friendship and hospitality, I’m stepping out. I can no longer have meaningful discussions with “pagans” who define “pagan” outside the classic, academic definition. I can no longer have meaningful discussions with pagans who are not polytheists (in which I include “animists”), and who don’t understand “polytheism” to be a belief in GODS, not comic book characters, not archetypes. I can no longer really maintain reasonable discourse with atheist, secular or “non-theist” pagans outside my own religion, which is Hellenismos La_Fileuse_-_John_William_Waterhouse (and that’s me , quite generously, assuming that there are ANY within my religion), and which means something.

I have stated many time, on this blog and elsewhere on the Internet in spaces where “pagans” gather, that for the first few years I was in the Hellenic polytheist community, I didn’t really interact with people outside that religion. That is absolutely true. I honestly forget what eventually teased me out into the greater “pagan” community —it was likely a combination of things, including dual-trad people i knew in Hellenism, and links blogs on old e-mail lists, and The Wild Hunt, and LiveJournal. But the thing is, I have more in common with other recons and academic pagans, which has always been a tiny portion of the pagan community, than I do with the many, many, non-trad, maybe-theistic, Whatever-You-Want-It-To-Be-”pagans”. passport image These differences can be irreconsilable, especially when I’m expected to erase my boundaries to accommodate people who simply are not my co-religionists, but instead are loosely associated with a giagantic interfaith community known as “paganism”.

So, this is me signing off from that interfaith community.

I will continue to read the blogs of polytheists and academic pagans —not just Hellenists—, and I’ll keep up with The Wild Hunt for news, but I have no comment on things that don’t relate to Hellenism or traditional polytheism. I can’t possibly give much in the way of meaningful input, and I fear I may do little more than bother people and build an undeserved reputation out of the audacity of my belief that things can be defined.

[PBP2013] Lost in Translation: L’amour est bleu

L’amour est bleu
Doux, doux, l’amour est doux
Douce est ma vie, ma vie dans tes bras
Doux, doux, l’amour est doux
Douce est ma vie, ma vie près de toi

Bleu, bleu, l’amour est bleu
Berce mon cœur, mon cœur amoureux
Bleu, bleu, l’amour est bleu
Bleu comme le ciel qui joue dans tes yeux

Comme l’eau, comme l’eau qui court
Moi, mon cœur court après ton amour

Gris, gris, l’amour est gris
Pleure mon cœur lorsque tu t’en vas
Gris, gris, le ciel est gris
Tombe la pluie quand tu n’es plus là

Le vent, le vent gémit
Pleure le vent lorsque tu t’en vas
Le vent, le vent maudit
Pleure mon cœur quand tu n’es plus là

Comme l’eau, comme l’eau qui court
Moi, mon cœur court après ton amour

Bleu, bleu, l’amour est bleu
Le ciel est bleu lorsque tu reviens
Bleu, bleu, l’amour est bleu
L’amour est bleu quand tu prends ma main

Fou, fou, l’amour est fou
Fou comme toi et fou comme moi
Bleu, bleu, l’amour est bleu
L’amour est bleu quand je suis à toi

L’amour est bleu quand je suis à toi

Love is blue (translation)
Sweet, sweet, love is sweet
Sweet is my life, my life in your arms
Sweet, sweet, love is sweet
Sweet is my life, my life close to you

Blue, blue, love is blue
Cradle my heart, my loving heart
Blue, blue, love is blue
Blue like the sky which play in your eyes

Like the water, like the running water
Me, my heart runs after your love

Grey, grey, love is grey
My heart weeps since you went away
Grey, grey, the sky is grey
The rain falls when you’re not there anymore

The wind, the wind moans
The wind weeps since you went away
The wind, the cursed wind
My heart weeps when you’re not there anymore

Like the water, like the running water
Me, my heart runs after your love

Blue, blue, love is blue
The sky is blue when you return
Blue, blue, love is blue
Love is blue when you take my hand

Mad, mad, love is mad
Mad like you and mad like me
Blue, blue, love is blue
Love is blue when I am yours

Love is blue when I am yours


CONTRAST WITH

Blue, blue, my world is blue
Blue is my world since I’m without you
Gray, gray, my life is gray
Cold is my heart since you went away

Red, red, my eyes are red
Crying for you alone in my bed
Green, green, my jealous heart I
doubted you and now we’re apart

How the bright sun shone
Then love died
Now the rainbow is gone
Black, black, the nights I’ve known
Longing for you, so lost and alone
Gone, gone, the love we knew
Blue is my world since I’m without you


This is also an allegory for how the original language is necessary to a complete understanding.

I’m probably not Going Silent for July, BUT…

As much as i support the decision for those who have chosen to, I’ve decided not to Go Silent in July, cos of the following reasons:

For starters, I do too much socialisation on-line. I don’t live in a good area for socialising with people like myself, especially when one cannot drive, so while I do get out, it’s not very often, and there’s never a guarantee that I’ll like the people I meet as much as i like a handful of the folks i meet on-line in any of the avenues i prefer to socialise in.

Then there’s the fact that I’m not even Dver-famous, in pagan and polytheist circles. Who gives a crap what i do or don’t say? Most of the people who read this blog only do cos Sannion linked them to something here, and if they subscribed after that, they’re likely used to the irregular nature of my postings. It’s not going to be a big impact on others.

And lastly, while it’s certainly a good idea to moderate my on-line time more strictly, if only to allot more time to my devotional practises, I don’t have the prvilege of a “dayjob” like Sannion and Dver and (I’m assuming) Galina and others who I’ve seen express participation. I’m physically disabled, and my anxieties have been crippling in job-orientiation periods, that my primary income since 2002 has been disability allowance, and I supplement this with Etsy, and summer is usually my most profitable period. I can’t afford to put my shop on Holiday (as one of Sannion’s posts seemed to suggest, or at least was a logical conclusion that could easily be drawn from it). Disability is just over $600/month, as per Michigan’s average cost-of-living. Maybe if I lived in Compton or East L.A., where the rent is about what it is in Lansing, but the state cost-of-living average is higher, I could afford to take a month off from Etsy, but I can’t. I’m barely getting things done, as it is, and I can’t take away that extra average-of-$65/month I get from Etsy because it seems like a good idea to take time for for added reflection and re-orienteering my focus on the Theoi. I acknowledge that this makes me a “bad Hedonist“, as it’s not properly focused on the moment, and I’m working on that, but experience has also taught me that I’ve never done well with taking nose dives into unfamiliar territory, it breaks me.

That said, I did notice Pete Helms’ idea of “snail mail” pen-pals. I really do enjoy sending letters and cards via post, and keep a steady supply of postage handy, just for that. I have an annual winter holiday card list, and certainly wouldn’t mind adding a few other people to that.

Whether you’re “going silent” or not, and would love to write to me, feel free to comment here and I’ll send you my address, or if you’d rather, there is that contact form of mine. Please bare in mind, though, I’m awful at getting things started, and especially if I have no idea who you are, I may need you to send the first letter.

The Moisai and My Creative Process

I’m a creative person, as I’m sure several people who read this already know. I’ve made music, I’ve painted, I’ve written both poetry and fiction, and I will continue to do all of that in the very near and long projected future, if I have anything to say about it.

I’m still not very sure how this works for me: Do the Moisai whisper me directly, or send spirits? Do They break out Their Holiest Hand-Puppets and put on a show for me? and then I’m compelled to writ it out? Maybe a mix of things, depending on what I’m doing. For the purposes of this article, I’m going to go with the latter assumption than any former assumption; it just makes sense.

When I’m making music, I just let the Moisa take over. Whether it’s completely improvised (like with “music for Un Chien Andalou) or carefully crafted with guided intentions (like with any of the bands I’ve been in), I surrender. Music, any music, is sacred to me in that way. It’s best approached, as a musician, by letting the Moisa take over, letting Apollon conduct the instrument that is that sacred orchestra of Their voices and Their hands on instruments, and letting myself become a vessel for that din glorious. Considering the music that I’ve earned a few listens on Last.FM for, or even my approach to performing when I’ve been in a real band, I don’t know this austere, “classical music only” Apollon that the pagan community seems to have a raging boner for (I largely blame Nietzsche, and more importantly, Joseph Campbell’s and Isaac Bonewits’ citation of influence from Nietzsche), I know the real musician, the one consumed by His craft —and I’ve talked about this before— and I digress. My Moisa, the Moisai, She or They just take over when I’m doing music. I prefer not to negotiate the experience, and that may be one of the reasons I can be hard to work with in a band, but my favourite fellow musicians are also notorious “perfectionists” who demand that they craft under their preferred conditions, unwilling to compromise the integrity of the work in order to maintain a single line-up throughout their careers (except for Pete Townshend, but he’s kind of an anomaly to all this).

Picture 015When I paint, it starts with “the itch”. This isn’t a physical itching, but the Moisa itching at my brain, telling me to paint. I go to the store for a canvas, and look through them all —every single canvas, not just the variants in size— until I can see the painting. It’s somewhat literal, at times. My Hyakintos painting was detailed down to the tiniest detail; Eros I saw on the canvas only slightly different from how He ended up there, but those differences were guided as I painted. I’m sure I look half crazed looking at every blank canvas at Jo-Ann and Michael’s, sometimes more than once, looking for my painting before I’ve even painted it, but that’s just how it works out. I don’t allow myself much say in paintings, as far as composition of elements is concerned; I will negotiate colours, when I feel like it (that’s why my Hekate ends up coloured like The Afghan Girl, cos I’d been reading about that photograph earlier in the day and found it really striking, and wanted to pay subtle tribute), but for the most part, that’s it.

Writing poetry is Moisa-guided, but highly disciplined and I work a lot of it out, myself. I get flashes of imagery, and ideas of what to say, but how I say it, I work out on my own, and I can spend weeks on a few lines, coming back, even after i’ve written more, and tweak them just a bit at a time, for not only metre but nuance. It’s about saying the exact words I mean to say; this has also seeped into other writing I do, and why I can get so annoyed when people would rather argue with what they think I’m saying, and not what I actually said; I said it the way I did for a very good reason, so pay attention to that, and leave your assumptions out of it. Again, I digress….

Jace Hanvey and Henri

by Susie Beeca

My stories, my fiction, that’s where it can seem to get weird. It’s guided, but I treat each character as its own spirit; at some point in the writing, the character definitely feels like an entity outside myself, that I can sit down and talk to about what needs to go into the story and what can be saved for later. At some early, but not usually initial stage of writing that character, I get very clear mental images of how the character looks, and I don’t think these are people i’ve seen before; some faces, at best, are composites of many faces. Each “spirit” gives me the character’s birthday, and something of a family history, though sometimes details of that family will come later. As I write, I get to know each one, their hopes, their dreams, their favourite films and bands and books —sometimes things I’ve never read nor watched nor even really listened to, but I usually will shortly after learning this, just to get a better idea of who this character is. Sometimes personalities are clearly things that were born of certain elements of myself, but to write the characters best, I have to behave as if this character’s “spirit” is no longer simply an aspect of myself with other interesting things thrown in, that whether it’s a unique spirit, or some puppet show of the Moisai orchestrated to make me a better writer, I neither know nor care, cos at this point, it’s clear to me that this is simply how I have to treat the character to write about them.

This, obviously, is where I have some sympathy of the “pop culture pagans”, cos really, at some point, it sure as hell feels like I’m writing about things I have little say in, that these characters develop something of their own spirit outside myself, cos to best write about them, I have to treat them like that. Sometimes I can try like hell to call them up, and they won’t show up until I’m in the shower or out for breakfast with friends, or otherwise doing something where it’s too inconvenient to write. On the other hand, I gotta side with Alan Moore about the “gods or superheroes” topic, cos well, for starters, look at him, would you argue with Alan Moore?

alan-moore1

…and secondly, and most importantly, it’s most-like the conclusion I’ve come to, myself, after years of experience. Fiction can very well create entities that are greater than the work of fiction itself, but then there are “entities” created by fiction that exist only to make money for big corporations that exist for making money. And there is a BIG difference between an entity worthy of worship and an entity that exists only as much as Capitalism wants it to. I don’t know if Jace Hanvey is some new god in his infancy, or if he’s just a spirit that manifested from some writing I felt compelled to do, or if his existence is, literally, some metaphysical hand-puppet of the Moisai, but I know I’m supposed to tell his story as it’s been told to me. And i have to tell Henri’s. And Dougan’s. And Pyee’s. And Dubhan’s. And all these other characters that I feel compelled to write about.

What seasonal depression looks like

Picture 014

For a comparison, let’s take a look at my laurel when I did not have a winter that kicked my arse:

Picture 030

Oh, I wish I could just “shake my fists and demand restitution“.

So, I’ve said very little about personal aspects of my practice here for some time, and one of the reasons for that in recent months has been that the winter that just passed was brutal on me.

In October, I took my cat, Vermin von Fluffybottom, nearly thirteen years old, in for a biopsy, after many kind donations. Later that week, some-one dumped a kitten, approximately four months old, on my street —there are a lot of feral cats on this street, and people think that means if they dump a kitten here “the others will take care of it”, but more often than not, the toms will try to kill it. This is not an aside, this is important, I will return to this. So, cos in 2011, a queen I called Pwcca had herself a kindle under the porch two doors down, and then just took off after ten weeks, and I’ve been feeding them and getting them neutered as I can, I took in the little guy who was just abandoned on my street, but cos one of the males from Pwcca’s kindle seriously wanted to kill or at least maim the new kid. Since neither my humanoid meat-based housemate nor I were expecting Fat Bob to survive the winter, we discussed bringing the new kid in, but we wanted to put it off a bit.

Early in November, I got Vermin’s biopsy back, and it was terminal. She had a carcinoma in her jaw, and it was one of those things where, at best, there was a very tiny threshold of time where it would’ve been operable, and cos I had to wait for donations, it wasn’t going to be operable. Later that night, the new kid came back before Pwcca’s remaining brood did, and I opened the door and said “Hey, dude, want to be a housecat again?” His name is Nigel, now.

Fat Bob died in December, of natural causes. He’d been diagnosed with some kind of intestinal cancer in March of 2009, and was given “six to twelve months, tops”. Somehow, this went into some kind of remission and he ended up living just over three month short of three years past his original “expiration date”. Now, my humanoid meat-based housemate would’ve taken Bob in for euthenasia in November, except every time the topic came up within earshot of this cat –and this house is very small, so just about everywhere is within earshot– he would get *very* angry, and started screaming at us in what sure as hell sounded like a *very* pissy tone, so we just put it off, cos Fat Bob was being creepy.

Now, I could’ve put down Vermin right away, but the vet said she may still have another two to three months left, three to four if we were *very* lucky. We weren’t that lucky, and I watched my cat go from being very joyful and sweet and friendly all November and December to deteriorating very quickly in January. Her last week, she was just barely able to take any cat milk, and only when I was standing with her, and encouraging her to have some, crying cos my cat couldn’t eat. I brought her in to the vet to be put down on 30 January 2013.

To make matters worse, there’s another cat in the house, this is Chunk. Chunk is a female, calico, and is the most territorial cat I’ve ever known; she also the most suspicious of any change of any sort. This is what Chubk’s reaction was when I replaced a kibble dish in 2011:

…so no, I don’t know what went through my head thinking that a new cat in the house would’ve gone over any better. She still doesn’t completely trust Pwcca’s remaining brood (they’ve always lived outside, and frankly, I’m 90% certain that two of the original five got hit by cars), but it was only just this year that she’s learned to tolerate them on her porch. So yeah, shortly after Vermin died, Chunk’s temperament toward Nigel suddenly turned VERY nasty, and I want to say the week of Valentine’s day, he’d spent literally four days under a chair, because that’s the only place in the whole house where Chunk couldn’t get him —he obviously found moments to sneak out and eat, get some water, and use the box (seriously, this cat adapted better to using the box than any “stray” I had taken in before, so there’s no way this little fucker was born outside; somebody dumped him, and if I ever see anybody doing that on this street, I may have to drag them out of their fucking car and bash their head in), but my housemate helped me move the chair to get him out, and Chunk ran him upstairs and under my bed. I got Chunk out, and immediately brought him up some food and water (there’s been a box up here since we moved in, cos that’s how we roll), and he’s more-or-less been up here since. He gets time downstairs, after I close Chunk up in another room, and they’re getting used to each other, but I’m getting ahead of myself. Basically, at that point, the less-than-logical portions of my brain won the battle and suddenly I had completely failed my cats. All of them. Ever. Somehow, I even failed the cat I had from the ages of five to eighteen. I failed cats that weren’t even “mine”, from my step-mother’s cat, Willow, to my mother’s longhaired Burmese she had from 1968 to 1987 (and just for reference, I was born in the early 1980s), to my brother-in-law’s cat that I only knew in summers when I was in junior high and high school.

To make matters worse, my humanoid meat-based housemate has been fucking some-one since October, and I haven’t even been flirted back with since December of 2007. My entire sex life for five-and-a-half years has been with Someone, for all intents and purposes, Who is non-corporeal. As an extrovert with a high libido, this does not suffice, and add onto that seasonal depression and the feeling that I have failed every cat I’ve ever had the slightest contact with, and knowing that two people are touching each-other in literally the next room, and even if you go up to your room and turn up Yoko Ono at high volume, you can still hear it… Well, it starts to feel like a personal attack, like this is a statement about how I’m only only failing my pets, but I’m failing at everything I stand for.

Now, I usually have pretty manageable seasonal depression every winter. I can trap myself into logical reasons to do things, like eat breakfast and take care of my plants, even though I’ve been reduced to barely more than a lump on the couch. Thankfully, winter has usually passed before it can take a nosedive into something I can’t manage on my own, but most of the time, it’s manageable; I know what’s going on, and I know this is mostly just a seasonal thing, so I don’t have a sun lamp just yet, but I do like to keep the windows open and play mood elevating music to just keep the occasinal bursts of enjoying life that even depressed people still get before it spirals out of control. But that’s most winters; winter 2012/13 was not most winters. It’s bad enough that apparently my blood sugar got so low, my doctor was talking about putting me on insulin-management drugs —which is SO NOT the first thing a D.O. will usually suggest (which is the reason I see a D.O. rather than an MD)— but I got bad enough that I was neglecting my plants. My sacred plants.

The laurel is still alive —thankfully, I started coming out of it in time to tell that not only was she still mostly alive, I could seriously see what parts had dried off to keep her core alive. And she’s springing back amazingly well, and in a way that really says something to me about plant life, and possibly the nymphai connected to individual plants, especially trees and shrubs, but I’ll take that to another post.

In all seriousness, though I’m at this point far enough from that…. Just empty sort of feeling, which is like sadness, but more than “turned up to eleven”, more like the feeling a wrapper from an ice cream cone must feel when it’s been peeled away and discarded, cos what does it have to look forward to, now? But I digress: I’m past that, now, and I’m looking forward to utilising things I remember and have since learned about re-socialising two cats, and I get too happy every time I see a new bud on my laurel. But as much as I’m back to feelings of optimism, I can’t help but feel like I want to punch Star Foster in the throat. Cos to her and people like her, seasonal depression is just a punchline, she thinks it’s just something that literally everybody gets to diagnose themselves with, and little more than an attack of the funks —and don’t get me started on the comments!

Now, apparently, one of my on-line friends is apparently even more problematic about mental conditions than that, and I’ve read what some people on Tumblr take issue with, and in all honesty, there’s only just so much I can really take seriously from anyone, any more. Between that and a recent drama on one forum I only barely read anymore, but which seems somewhat influenced by some of the recent SJW-isms, if this was still winter, I’d probably be feeling horrible about myself right now. Seriously, there is this forum, and there was this drama on there, and at some point there were people who I normally respect saying things like “even clearly unflattering depictions of a rape in fiction exist only to support rape”, and since there was actually a pretty major sexual assault scene in my novel —which was unflattering, and which is clearly not something that is in any way intended to be supported, but it happened to this character, and clearly affected him— I dunno, if I was in a more delicate state right now, it’d be easy to take all this shit-talk very personally —and I can’t guarantee that this coming winter, I won’t remember it and take it personally, and turn it all inward.

Ah well, at this point, I have no point anymore.