Mindspace

I have always been interested in zodiacs; from the day I watched the thirteenth ghost (traumatizing as a child) I've been mildly obsessed with the zodiacs. 

Though fun to read and use as a guide, their descriptions are always generalized and never fits any 1 person perfectly. So here I pose a question; out of 3 different cultures zodiacs, how many characteristics do they share? 

Here are some quick characteristics of my birth year; 

The Bull: (Western)Traits

Loyal: Taureans are known for being loyal and dependable.  
Practical: They are known for being practical and achievement-oriented.  
Generous: They are known for being generous and enjoying sharing their bounty with others.  
Sensual: They are known for being sensual and enjoying the finer things in life.  
Compassionate: They are known for being compassionate and gentle.  
Artistic: They are known for being artistic and creative. 

The 'Wood' Boar: (Chinese) Traits

Strong-willed: Wood Pigs are determined and don't take no for an answer.

Practical: They are down-to-earth and enjoy working on projects.

Generous: They are known for being kind and giving.

Compassionate: They are caring and considerate.

Responsible: They are diligent and focus on what needs to be done.

Easygoing: They are laid back and enjoy happiness.

Sincere: They are honest and have strong emotional awareness.

The Willow Tree (Celtic) Traits: 

Creative and intuitive: Highly creative and intuitive, and have a realistic perspective on life.

Intelligent: Intelligent and have a natural ability to retain knowledge.

Patient: Patient and down to earth, and understand that every situation has a season.

Kind and polite: Known for their kindness and politeness, and don't want to cause offense.

Sense of humor: The have a wicked sense of humor and love to joke around with friends.

Personally I feel all of these embody myself a s a person though I am not limited to these traits. People are the most beautiful creation. And that in turn leaves it up to us how we are going to be and present ourselves to the world. 

Overall, I love the zodiac. Even was gifted a septum piercing that I've been wanting to get for over 5 years now by my wonderful Sir, Mr Gregory and since then I've felt a lot more comfortable in my own skin; embracing who we are on the inside is very important and it's always amazing to be surrounded by individuals whom want to only foster your growth. 

-Pandaish (The Bull)

Let's talk about home. A word so commonly used in everyday life, yet what does it truly mean?

Is it a place? The morning mist like a blanket over the rolling hills as they strech their hands in preparation of spring itself; like a sinner begging for forgiveness from his God. 

Or is it a state of being? An energy aura that envelopes you in it's warmth. A serenity that brings utter peace within your normally chaotic self. A single water drip on a pool still. 

Could it be a person or certain people? A safe place to be yourself, no fear of judgement or rejection. A lazy bubble tub day in the late summer sun; blends of red and orange like the sweetest popsicle. 

This person, a lonely heart in her 30 years years of life, has had many opportunities for home and many of thoes opportunities taken from her by no choice of her own. She has also found beautiful glimpses of home, a fragment here and there, a beam of sunlight through the tree branches. 

I have found home with my husband and with my child of 1 year. A place where I can be happy and a place where I can be completely broken. Yet I've always felt that there was something missing. A small peice of my soul that waited.

Until the day I decided..

And since I decided that I was done setting for only partly happy when I knew if I just embraced who I was then I could be fully happy. 

Next week I will be complete. We will be complete. And I cannot wait. I'm terrified but I know I am safe. 

A pardox as sweet as iced tea on a Texas porch. 

An enigma that was always elusive even to myself. 

A lonely girl waiting for a friend. 

A woman waiting for a strong, firm hand to help me feel safe. 

A mother new and afraid but so happy. 

A wife loyal and supportive I will always love you. 

I am a tangle puzzle and I am ready to be figured out! 

Look at me. What do you see? A brilliant smile, a tall stride; a clever silhouette reflecting confidence and power. 

Do you see how I smile with my eyes everytime? See how my smile showes all my teeth? My voice is loud and clear it rings like bells through the pews. Let my song take you to church. Let my words comfort you. 

My studies are always priority, which makes me an excellent slave. I wear my kindness like armor. For whom truly wants to be mad and hostile toward a little piece of sunshine?

But

I am in fact hollow. Your words don't taint me because there is nothing left to rot. Your glares don't hurt me because I glare at myself everyday. Your insults can't cut me because I am already shredded.

I am Hollow; I am here to be an extra, the spare character in the story that is here for a chapter, helps the heroine and then mysteriously is never mentioned again. 

A pretty face/an empty shell. 

Hollow.

What does it feel like? To feel anything? To be able to have no fear of hurting others? How to I begin to fill myself when all I do is try repeatedly only to fail? 

How do I become...full? 

And not hollow..

-Pandaish

Inbox Only:

2024 is almost over, so RESPECTFULLY confess something you've wanted to tell me. It will be between us.

~Put this as your status and see who surprises you.~ Hoping I don't regret doing this.

Original challenge can be found here:

https://thecage.co/blog/userblog.php?blog_id=117847

Emotion. Embraced like the sun in the sky; blinding and oh so comfortable. Smear me with your love, red and orange across my body; I fear I may burst into a million colors. 

A prism of me spilling from my soul and onto the canvas of my life. Each person I meet adds another hue. Light and dark energies pass through the crystal of my heart. Reflecting and being reflected; swimming in a whirlpool of auras.

Hold my hand and blend your beautiful rainbow with mine until they cannot be pulled separate again. Let us create something new, something uniquely ours. 

Let Us Dance and create a borealis of color! Take me in your strong arms marked by ink of your life and spin me in beautiful patterns. Dip me into the stars and as we twirl the universe will be created anew.

As you caress me and I hold you to my breast the planets will realign and new galaxies will be born. 

Let Us Dance and forget the world for just one day. Let it just be us. Allow me to be what you need, to be strong so you may rest. Let me swirl around you while you watch. My curls as flower petals and my hips and legs like rolling hills. 

I will sing of love and passion my voice soft as a babbling brook. Let us caress each other with thoughts and dreams; paint them on the ceiling as we lay warm and safe. 

Let us Dance; our bodies learning one another. Each spot that will cause us to melt into eachothers arms. Take a trip in each other's  kaleidoscopic eyes, seeing the world in technicolor. 

As I curtsy, head low...hands up.. neck exposed, I ask you shyly, " May we Sir?" and without a moments hesitation, you said, 

"Let Us Dance." 

-Pandaish

A sigh hangs at the back of my throat. Today was hard: a cold rock on the river bank on a wet  dreary day. 

I refused to let pain win; I held my shield high and kept my smile bright. My kind words; the sharpest blade. My compassion my arrow and quiver; my love the bow.

There were times I thought the arrowhead of the enemy might have passed through my armor; reflexes of a war aged worrier had saved me once again and with a dynamic dance I navigated the day.

I gave my last piece of bread to the hungry just to see the smile on his face. Driven by some unseen duty I give myself. *Self punishment?*

But..

I am exhausted at the end of my daily battle. Nothing left to give but my words..and sometimes not even thoes.

Sometimes I mess up. 

Sometimes I say stupid things.

Sometimes I unintentionally hurt thoes I love the most. 

And it kills me to know that if I had just not given my everything to everyone else and saved enough for the ones I love the most, I would not hurt them as I do by accident. A horse running so fast and hard that it's heart gives out.

My brain circles; 

"It's your fault" 

"You always mess up somehow." 

The voice in my head that tells me as soon as I relax, I hurt someone. I am a monster. I am pathetic. The creature looking back at me in the mirror; fangs dripping with the carnage of my loved ones hearts. 

I'm sorry I messed up.. even if I don't know what I did.

My sigh hangs heavy in the back of my throat. I dare not let it loose as I couldn't dare the risk of being seen as burdensome or dramatic.

The sigh hangs... 

-Pandaish 

I have a scene in my mind. Like a shadow in the moonlight; so beautiful in it's contrast. Dark and light, duality at its finest. It grows in strength. 

Dark blue, inky, deep as if it could swallow me in, thoes blankets tease me so. My mind wrapped in it's royal embrace, cool and calm. A promise of pure serenity. 

His hands, hot and slightly abrasive on my smooth skin, the stimulation alone enough to cause my core to ignite, my breath to quicken and my heart rate to spike. 

A blindfold. Even such an mundane thing as this, intentionally placed is a tool for sensations. Cutting my first sense; delicious deprivation.

I must focus on his words, not his touch...but his touch drives the deepest need in me, the need to be filled, the need to be nothing but pleasure; to exist in a state of being yet not. A cloud so delicate in the sunset, floating without a care in the world just allowing the gentle breeze to carry me. 

Focus. 

Cold and hard...something touched my right ribs.. startled by bite of a quick touch.. then on my thighs.. my neck..what is it..he teases my wonton body with? 

Then a sting on my right breast; pain blooming from the place of impact, I cry out the pain consuming my body awakening every nerve ending. My blood pumps and rushes to the area making a beautiful red mark appear.

A work of art on my skin and you're the artist. I hear your breath hitch... I become even more aroused.

Your arousal makes me aroused; I can't help but let out a whimper of desire. 

"Such a good girl, so paitent for me." His voice growls behind me.

Circling me.

His prey.

A rabbit caught in a snare, only willingly so.

What a deviant of a rabbit.

What a sadist this wolf. 

Where will he strike next, his brush strokes his canvas; across my lower abdomen. I cry out again in beautiful agony. My tears fall from under the blindfold and I feel him still. His energy suddenly stopping it's swirl around me. I hitch my breath and bite my lip. Where is he.

Suddenly his hand grabs mine ripping it from the chair arms I had been griping and place it upon him; his shift struggles to get free from the denim confining it like the battering ram of mordor it stands firm and intimidating. 

"This is how much I want you." he growls again into my ear.

His beard grazing my shoulder causing gooseflesh to erupt over my arm and my nipples to harden painfully. 

He has yet to touch me how I want him to the most. I am in sweet agony. 

Yet, I wait. Patiently. 

His good girl. 

His girl

His. 

This scene I crave so badly.

Sir, please use this slave. Use her as she so deeply craves. She has been a good girl. She has been paitent. She has be brave.

Please bless her with your exquisite pain. 

-Pandaish

It feels like there is a balloon about to burst in my chest. A basketball with too much air: one pump away from utter decimation. 

It feels like my heart is about to combust; the fire within has begun to consume my veins and swallow my soul. 

Every day I destroy myself. Sometimes as a form of self punishment, other times simply from choosing to stay. A petal falls from the rose under the glass dome; the magic slowly dying. 

When you give so much of yourself that you forget who you are how do you go about picking up the pieces of what's left? 

Will thoes whom claim to love me now also change their minds in the future..

Being nerurotypical must be so lovely. To be able to move one with such ease; to just leave. 

My autistic brain says I have no right but my heart and soul want to cry out and scream, they want to run and break and punsh and kick and destroy. 

I'm so tired, of being the bad guy, or being the hard one, of being the one no one can handle. 

For once. I just want to be empty. Not fulled with rage like molten metal. 

Hollow like a goard floating up the river. 

I'm tired of containing this rage. I need to expell  it.  

But how...?

-Pandaish

I hate the holidays. People running around, merry and joyus.

I hate how frenzied people get. It triggers my anxiety. 

I hate how everyone wishes me a happy holiday, they don't know, but it won't happen. 

I will cry today, not just once but multiple times. 

This is grief. This is mourning. This is pain. 

I hate the holidays. 

Something that is in almost every single American household; not normally given much thought. That spot on the counter under the cabinet to the right; the light from the hood of the stove illuminates it just so perfectly. 

Coffee, to me, was a reminder of sickness and exhaustion; that little girl on the floor of the packed N.A. meeting next to the coffee machine with a fever of 103°. 

Addicts like their coffee you know, if you've ever been to one of thoes places, a small room dimly lit. A circle of people all desperately trying to heal. The emotions that fill thoes room could make a grown man's heart bleed. 

But coffee was always available. 

I had never thought that, as a tea drinker myself, I would ever experience that camaraderie of thoes drinking coffee. 

Till that day, and every day since. 

I now understand why people love coffee so. It doesn't only warm you and give you the options of sweet or bitter, but it also beings together souls. 

Our souls.

Something about the way he looks at me over that cup of steaming coffee like I am the only thing that matters in the world, is something I've grown to look forward to. 

His double cappuccino steaming the window as the raindrops give us a front row seat to the ball.

My mocha simply happy to be in his profound presence. 

Coffee for me, now, is a whole experience. It no longer contains that sick little girl, but the woman who feel seen and heard. 

The heat warming my hands as his hands warm my arms, both so comforting and peaceful. A fluffy warm bed on a rainy day. 

Coffee..

-Pandaish