Don't know why, but the entire post disappeared...so I will write it again.  (No, it's not about my marriage, sorry if I scared anyone! I just happen to love that particular soundtrack--"Where Love Goes"--especially Kim Richey's spin on "Those Words We Said.")

For more than five years, now, a troll has been lurking about this blog, reading (usually the same pieces, over and over) and even looking at my pictures, sometimes many times in one day.  I can always expect to see a flurry of it whenever I've written anything on the McKuen Message Board, even though I rarely do, anymore.  I know damn well who it is, oh yes, and Ontario--for that is who it is--knows it, too, but cannot stop the obsession.  Which is really funny, because it bears out everything I came to know and believe to be true where Ontario is concerned, not the least of which is the stultifying daily routine (go out for coffee, watch "Law and Order" and lurk around the same message boards all day long...repeat as needed) that showed me clearly how closed and narrow such a mind was--and how suffocating such a shared life would be. 

But see, there's the thing, right there: Ontario is all about obsession and possession, not about love at all--well, no, actually, that's not quite true--Ontario loves Ontario, and only Ontario.  Ontario is all about appearances, about pining for the one perfect love that got away (forty years ago, and never mind that Ontario was the one who walked away) and about carefully crafted writings that sound so sensitive and insightful (but they lose that quality once you learn how often they've been recycled.)  It is a modus operandi...with an ever-dwindling and rapidly shrinking store of charm.  It is pathetic to be so in love with the sound of your own voice that you have kept every post you ever wrote on more than one message board.  It is even more pathetic to never be open and honest about what you feel, but to sic your latest attack dogs on the dissenting voice.

And that's it: I learned all this (being, as I once said in a chat room, the smartest blonde you never met).  I would like to have learned it earlier, before any damage was done, but if you are one who sees only the good in people, you can indeed be deceived by such a master thief.  And because I learned it, I will never be forgiven.  I can live with that.  It's not like I lost anything or anyone worth keeping, in fact, I was the one who walked away.

Now, here's what this all boils down to: I am a woman to whom words mean everything (actually part of the problem, because I only write what is true and truly felt, so I--stupidly--where Ontario was concerned--believed I was receiving the same honesty, which could not have been further from the truth) and so this blog means a lot to me.  Maybe it doesn't always seem that way, since so much time has gone between updates, but I've been pouring it all out into my poetry and my novel, and that's as it should be.  I'm not writing to make anyone feel a certain way, or to manipulate emotions, which is one thing I did learn from Ontario--such writing is empty, hollow, meaningless.  Anyone can craft a beautifully placed string of words, but if there is no soul beneath them, no love but self-love, they are worthless. 

At first I just thought it was funny, this lurking troll; then I found it pathetic, and I have come to see it for the really sick and controlling nature I was so glad to escape.  So what were my choices?  Shut down this blog altogether? No.  No way I would let someone have that kind of power over me.  Move it? I have considered that, and might still do so, but not yet, having some housekeeping and change-of-address cards (so to speak) to send.  After all, some very important people, who have a very important place in my life, reside here, also writing what is true and truly felt, who have wept with me, prayed with and for me, and celebrated with me. 

And you might be thinking that a better person than I am would just do her best to ignore it, which I have done, as much as possible.  But here's why I say that I have had enough.

~~There is this beautiful book of poetry, the beginning of all I have worked so long and so hard to achieve, a book I share with other talented writers..  And there is this wonderful novel, well in progress, with its sequel ready to begin, that is all my own.  I am proud of my work. I may have to edit it somewhat, for publication, but I should not have to edit one single word here.  Ontario may have been able to manipulate me once, but any more than that? Shame on me.

~~That leads to 'okay, but why say (whatever) anyway?'  And there is some merit to that, to just ignoring, being the bigger person.  The thing is, I was enough of a bigger person to break it gently when it all fell apart, to the point of taking all the blame on myself as to why this would not, could not, should not work.  How was that met, you ask? How about an itemized account on the very message board (filled with so many mutual friends) of every single penny ever spent on me? Yes, Ontario, those are indeed the actions of a white knight, and there are more that are equally despicable.

So, five years, and I have had enough.  Ontario doesn't get to play anymore, because Ontario doesn't play fair. Guess I've watched "The Count of Monte Cristo" too many times and revenge is indeed a dish best served cold.  I think five years of being stalked is long enough.  And with that, this is my last public post here.  My archives will still be available, for a while anyway, and those of you who should be able to read me will still be able to. 

But Ontario will not.

Nay, I have done, you get no more of me;

And I am glad, yea, glad with all my heart,

That thus so cleanly I myself can free;

Shake hands for ever, cancel all our vows....(Michael Drayton)

Hear that, Ontario? Go troll somewhere else now.  Very well, then. Off you go.

I love it when something that has eluded me falls into place and all the pieces fit together, perfectly....


I hear voices in the wind...
are they lost? am I?
A haunted sound that
makes me shiver, needing
what, who, I do not know...
only that it is not
here. But I am, and

I hear voices in the wind,
are they voices I know?
did I ever...are they
trying to find me, reach
me somehow
tonight. And what
would they say?

I hear voices in the wind
are they lonely, too? do they
want all that I do, and
have they been wanting
as long as I have, and
been denied, even
longer?

I hear voices in the wind
and they make me shiver
lost voices, clouding
my thoughts, obscuring
the voices in my head
and my heart. Is the one
I want most among them?

I hear voices in the wind
mine, yours, everyone
I ever knew, and loved,
and lost...is someone else
hearing these voices tonight,
trying hard to hear
mine among the chorus?

I hear voices in the wind
and they make me shiver
is it cold where you are?
are you sleeping? and
are there answers, any
answers to the questions
in the voices in the wind....


For all the titles I have: wife, mother, daughter, sister, friend...'hey, liberry lady!'  the two that define me most now are 'writer'...and 'poet.'  And that feels...wonderful.

If I were a month, I would be September...it is so beautiful.

If I were a time of the day, I would be starry night skies.

If I were a planet, I would be the sun.

If I were a sea animal, I would be a dolphin.

If I were a direction, I would be south (only because I loved the South when I lived there.)

If I were a piece of furniture, I would be a chair, the kind that feels like an embrace when you sink into it.

If I were a liquid, I would be a spring.

If I were a gemstone, I would be a diamond (they are so strong.)

If I were a tree, I would be a willow.

If I were a tool, I would be....I have no clue.

If I were a flower, I would be a rose (they become more beautiful as they unfold in the light.)

If I were a kind of weather, I would be Summer Breeze

If I were a musical instrument, I would be a guitar (although I love my clarinet devotedly.)

If I were a color, I would be the most beautiful shade of blue.

If I were an emotion, I would be love.

If I were a fruit, I would be a peach.

If I were a sound, I would be a child's laughter

If I were an element, I would be summer rain.

If I were a car, I would be a shimmering green 1938 Packard convertible, and you would call me the Empress.

If I were a food,I would be summer vegetables

If I were a place, I would be a country cottage for the one I love.

If I were a material, I would be silk.

If I were a taste, I would be cinnamon and nutmeg.

If I were a scent, I would be jasmine and lilac.

If I were an animal, I would be a cat.

If I were an object, I would be a book.

If I were a body part, I would be hands.

If I were a facial expression,I would be the look of love in someone's eyes.

If I were a pair of shoes, I would be soft leather ballerinas.

 

What would you be?

(Thanks to Cynsjrl for the inspiration! go read her answers!)