| Blood roses |
[20 Feb 2003|06:46am] |
Finally. She's here. I'm back with the moon. I think this one is going to hurt. But it will be a delicious hurt.
I knew I wasn't likely to be with babe. And this time I am glad I am not. I'm just begining to be in myself and to come to the realisation that I can be who I want to be. The journey was 4 weeks without and my mood in that time was vicious and full of water. I realise that I want to be in the blood. I want my blood. Blood over water. Blood is water in it's way; but I'd rather have the blood than the raging water torrents where I want to smash things over and over. The blood is thicker and speaks of concentrate rather than the dilute.
How close am I to making moon rituals for my periods? There is a wisdom with the blood I am sure of it. If I could, I would pour the blood over the ground outside. I would plant a seed in that ground. Every month I would pour more blood into that soil.
And maybe I will.
I think of all the time; the days, hours, minutes and seconds that I have spent actively hating myself, my shape, size, hair, chin, knees ... the whole Kathy caboodle. How NEGATIVE was that?!? You know, if we spend this time in such thoughts of ourselves outside and inside ( and I wont even start in on that right now), no wonder that we can be at war with ourselves and produce violence withiin ourselves to ourselves; violence of thought and action. The more war talk there is coming from the testosterone fuelled men in power around us; the more I know I don't want that hate and violence from within my own being directed at myself.
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