tigrissky: Tiger in Green Sea (Marilyn Monroe Goddess)

2017 quickly approaches, allowing a moment to reflect on the numerologically defined "9" this year has definitely been. I can only nod my head, in a form of acceptance and, perhaps a bit of appreciation, for the way it all played out. As a sort of initiation into the questionable form our human civilization is divisively taking towards becoming ...

Speaking of becoming; now is also a time to reflect upon the person I became in 2016. As well as postulate hopeful scenarios of the person I wish to become in 2017. How resolutely I succeed in accomplishing my "becoming" is affected directly by my willingness to change the reflections of that which "became" me.

artemis and apollo barry windsor smith.jpg

I am taken back six months, to a reflection from my birthday, of which the following seems relevant to share in order to understand my resolve for 2017.

"I am the artist of my truth, my wisdom, my experience and I do not intend to forget the pictures I have created along the way. Some of them bolder and louder than others. All of them a reflection of my creation myth.

A myth that started 39 years ago in a different time, in a different place. The history of which has ridden a wave of historic change in which I have had zero affect in shaping.

I am simply human. Part of a species advancing phenomenally as a whole. If such advancement, of a single species, to the detriment of so much around it, is to be considered a phenomenon. Which, even within my cynicism, I am left feeling is phenomenal. Knowing, in the grand scheme of the Universe, the Earth is but a tiny speck of dust, and the human species barely of microscopic consequence.

Yet, at the same time, we are the Universe experiencing itself. We are made of the stars, born of the sun and moon, birthed by an Earth mother that has created the perfect environment in which such a species can thrive. An environment in which we can learn, manipulate, and create through nothing more complex than a simple quiet moment in observance of nature.

It is in those silent moments that I am most grateful. Grateful for the experience becoming absolutely nothing more than a momentary microscopic breathe, on a cosmic speck of floating dust, in the vastness of a Universe I cannot even comprehend a minuscule fraction of, has granted me.

If you are reading this, it most likely granted me you.

No matter how briefly or incompletely I have loved and I have been loved. Unabashedly. Luckily. Sometimes even miserably. Only the Gods them self are able to comprehend, in one brief vision, the overall importance in such love."

On top of the vanity of the 20 pounds I vow to lose, this knowledge is what I vow to build from and upon in 2017.

To remain grateful for whatever amount of love for me exists in this world; in the hearts of those who keep me in their life, in whatever way they may choose to keep me.

To remain silent and observant to the nature of the world around me and the self that is developing within.

To attempt to paint some masterpieces worth remembering, even if they are heartbreaking, and most especially if they are love making!

To remember I am simply stardust, experiencing the Universe, as a form of life sculpted of the Mother known as Earth, guided by an invisible Father called Time; and, in spite of this travesty, I will continue to try and become more anyway!

Happy New Year!

With much love,


Sat, Dec. 31st, 2016 13:00
tigrissky: Tiger in Green Sea (Marilyn Monroe Goddess)
These many years spent, inventing, investing, invigorating, all to the benefit of a thief. She who could not comprehend what made the treasure she now possessed of such value. In broad daylight, in front of everyone, aided by some; looking straight into your eyes, shaking your hand with a smile, as if receiving rather than taking.

What was never yours to begin with.

None of it ever is.

Often, children are not given the credit in knowing the world for what it really is - chaos. We become stronger, more independent beings, because of this chaos, not in spite of it. While those sheltered are the first and most easily deceived by it. Consumed by the desire to reach a perfection chaos simply can never allow. Creating nothing more than a life of missed moments, that could have been spent, reveling in disorder and imperfection.

Out of darkness comes life.

Of course it hurts.

~TigrisSky ©December 31, 2016
tigrissky: Tiger in Green Sea (starbuck)


The only reason I cannot be the Joker, (yet could be a very good Loki), is because I, unlike society, still believe in having a moral code. Or shall I refer to it in my terminology style choice: honor code. Makes it sound a little less draconian and a little more adaptable to an ever changing life.

CHANGE: Something which NONE of us can get away from. We can simply only pause to take and hold a moment as close to us as we can for as long as we can. Sometimes this is only a flash and sometimes it is a lifetime. Whatever it is, we make the effort to try and hold onto it as long as we possibly can.

Be that in reality or memory.

We are lead by our desire to be and experience in the way in which our honor code teaches us. This is the part that we are losing in humanity ... having honor. This is the true gift of wisdom, not age, not simple experience, but instead the ability to determine right from wrong without thought of acceptance. Be that acceptance of society or acceptance of the gods; wisdom dictates the right action in every circumstance with compassion not acceptance.

Honor teaches us the path to compassion. Our actions along this path gift us love. Morals teach us the path of judgement. Our actions along this path gift us acceptance.

Sometimes we deny others their love, for their awkwardness is not to be accepted. They don't fit. They make us feel uncomfortable. They anger us. They cause us distress. They are just so opposite everything we have been taught is moral ... that harsh, strictly limiting, judgement word used to control societies partnerships; be it romantic, business, or familial.

Yet if we just take the honorable path we will find compassion ...

What does a whore know of honor though?

She knows how to create a temple anywhere, out of anything, for anyone, in any moment, in any situation, with compassion's passion.

She knows how to relieve, release, and restrict you of and from suffering.

She knows you in whole and shares none of that whole with any one else. It is just for you. It is just for her. It is central.

She knows so much ... so how again is it that you know so little?

Because; she is just a whore.

A long erased Goddess of history. The one who could restore beauty to society after the moral war. The one you cannot help but treat like trash. As if a whore is simply something you enjoy for a moment, crumple up, and toss out when no longer needed. One who is seen as a choice-less voice-less child of the crowd. One who means less to, while directly reflecting, the welfare of society.

A strong cause of moral degradation in society is directly reflected by an increase in the voice-less who continue to believe they cannot speak. That how and who they are grant them no place in this world.

No one will hear them.

It has been made clear.

They do not matter.

Except in their dreams ... and in the arms of the whore.

Long forgotten and written out of history. She runs rampant in the city at night. She draws you out of the safety of your voice-less shell. She is beautiful in a way in which words cannot describe ... yet through Her the voice-less speak. Through Her the voice-less scream their passion, their desire, their hopes, dreams, fears; and then collapse into her arms.

Arms that are easily forgotten.

If only She knew how to be heard rather than just seen ...

Speak out on behalf of the voiceless,
and for the rights of all who are vulnerable.
Speak out in order to judge with righteousness
and to defend the needy and the poor.
                               ~Proverbs 31:8-10

... as someone lost among societies hopeless. A moment of strength to experience an escape from societies morals. Lost in the arms of someone who cannot speak, because no one will listen to the unseen.

The long forgotten.

She who is written out of history.




tigrissky: Tiger in Green Sea (Default)

March 2017

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