The 400th Post

For my 400th post, I've decided to post the prologue of a new story I'm conjuring. It isn't going very far since I haven't finished "All of Her" yet. Once I'm completely satisfied with "All of Her" I will possibly continue working on this. Let me know what you think. It is going to be a horror/fairy tale mixture and possibly something new for me to explore.

"The Hanging Garden"
Prologue
I do not remember when I first discovered the meaning of the Hanging Garden, though I had known of its existence for years. Nor do I remember when I first discovered the fate of those called to be its keeper. I had known that I would one day take the place of my mother as the queen of those grounds, though I had no idea the meaning behind its name nor the horrors that were to await me upon succession. I knew, only as a child knows of places they are forbidden to go.

In my mind I had greatly romanticized the Hanging Garden. Many an hour was spent daydreaming of the day that I would take my mother's throne and be the solo heiress of those haunted landscapes. I imagined tea in lavish gardens filled with fragrant roses and graceful willows. I pictured court suitors and lords desirous of my hand in marriage pleading with me beside small pools of crystal clear water. I imagined them proposing with white honeysuckle and purple hyacinths plucked from those very gardens, for where else would there be flowers as sweet?

I did not then know that my only suitors would be the ageless scarecrow, hung upon his decaying cross, and the merman prince, forever drowning in his pools of blood. I knew not that the only flowers in my care would be those that sprang from the viscera of wicked and innocent men, spilled in those gardens for generations before my own existence was realized. I did not know that upon taking my mother's crown, my mother's throne, that she would join the hanging bodies in that cursed garden. A forever feast for the carrion birds that flourished in that sweltering bubble of decay.

And now, in my age of dying, I begin to write these words to my daughter. She may read of her fate in them after I have gone to take my place aside my mother. A fate suffered by myself, my mother and countless generations of first born daughters to the cursed queens of the Hanging Garden. A fate that each generation has tried so desperately to record in the annals of a history censored by destiny. She may never read these words before she has met the ageless scarecrow or the drowning merman prince.

She may never read them, as I never read those of my mother. It is only now, in my age of dying, that I have found the words my mother recorded to warn me. How little I understood has now been made plain. Mayhaps my daughter will be wiser than I. Mayhaps she will do what I did not and read the words written as warning. I can only hope and pray to the pagan gods of this land that she does.

Though I do not know the use of these words of mine. Had I read my mother's words would I have been able to escape her fate? Would the line drawn by destiny have wavered? Would I have been able to change the course of time? I suppose it no longer matters as I am too old now to prove useful to anyone but the starving grounds to which I am promised.

So it is that in this, my dying age, I, Aubra of Jarron, do take up my quill and ink to write to my only child, Selene, of the Hanging Garden.

~~~

It has been said that once, many years hence, there lived a beautiful queen. She is said to have been a witch, marked so by her unnatural white hair and piercing lilac eyes. Though she was queen she was not safe from man's lusts nor his suspicious nature.

A day arrived when the queen was called to name her king, for she would need an heir once she had gone. She refused all that sought her hand. And though, they pressed, she refused to name a man as her king. This infuriated her advisors and those that sought to make themselves higher in status than was their station. So much so that they conspired against the queen, seeking to overthrow her and name one of their own as king of the land.

One night, not long after refusing yet another suitor's advances, the queen was walking through her garden. The garden was famed throughout the land for the lushness of its grasses, the grace of its trees and the fragrance of its flowers. Though those against the queen whispered quietly that it was only so beautiful because of sorcery and innocent blood spilled. Flowers that beautiful could only be grown by the spilling of innocent blood upon the earth. Trees that strong must only grow from the bones of honest men buried. Grasses that soft could only thrive from the tears of the mighty felled by wickedness.

While she walked through her garden, the queen was ambushed by her advisors and rejected suitors. She was bound and hung, naked, from the tallest tree in her garden. As she struggled for air she placed a curse upon the men that bound her there.

"This day," she gasped. "I curse thee and all that may come after thee. Thy wife shall rise above thee and all thy daughters will be sworn to follow me. This garden, thou shalt not enjoy, for when I die all shall die with me. A beautiful garden no longer to be, a Hanging garden shall be the last thy eyes shall see."

Her last breath came out as a sigh and as it floated away the men marked a strangeness growing within them. Each man found himself rooted to the ground, vines pushing out from within them. Their screams were terrible to hear and the earth quaked with fear. Thunder crashed and lightning struck as each one of them became a part of the garden. Once beautiful, as the queen had said, now the garden had become a place of death.

From each man's eyes grew venomous flowers, stained with the lust and envy of the heart. From their mouths grew spiked grasses, sharp as razors. From their bones grew haunted trees, bound to the earth by wickedness. From their hearts burst flowers and vines, until they had been choked to death by them.

In the garden it is not hard to find them, they stand as a monument to the curse. Forever rooted before their betrayed queen, her body clothed only in vines and rotting flowers.

~~~

My daughter, Selene, today you are seventeen. The day that you will take my throne and bear my crown. Today is my dying day. The day that all mankind must one day meet. I do not yet know if all my writing will be for naught or if you shall heed the warnings herein. I suppose that only time will tell and my time is quickly running out. As my successor, and only child, I hope you do.

When you take your first steps as queen, they will be to follow me to the garden. A garden you have heard of many times. A garden you have known for years would one day be yours. A garden in which you shall watch me die as I watched my mother die. And as she watched her own mother die before me. It is only once I have joined my mother, her mother and all the generations of women before me, that you shall be completely bound to the garden. I wish it was not so, but wishes mean nothing in the light of reality.

After you have watched me die, you will be compelled to wander the landscape. In your coronation gown, stained with my blood, you will find yourself standing before the first queen to die in the garden. You will be surrounded by her betrayers, her monuments. You will feel sick and overwhelmed, but you are not done yet.

There are more horrors in this garden. It is a testament to the madness flowing rampant through our veins, your veins. I will not speak of all that there is within this cursed ground. Though I know them better than the skin that covers my bones. You will learn in time, what I have learned.

You will have no suitors, no men to call upon your hand. You will have no lovers, besides those that may be found in the garden. You will be alone until the day that you, too, bear a daughter. Have no doubt that you will bear nothing but daughters no matter how hard you wish for a son. No matter how you may try, you cannot escape that part of the curse.

The first man with whom you speak will be the scarecrow. He stands, crucified to a dying tree, in the center of the garden. He is never to be removed from his post. I know not how he came to be there. He only speaks in rhymes and is timeless within time, ageless within age. He is the only beautiful thing within the walls of the garden, though he has tattered with time and age. He will ask from whence you come and whence you came. You must never answer him. I know not why.

The second man you will encounter in the garden is the merman prince. He is secluded in the furthest corner of the garden, drowning in a pool of blood. He will never leave his pool and he will never drown. He will give you a gift, which you must not open until your dying day. His words will sound like honey in your ears, but their meaning will turn your hair white as snow. You will fall in love with him, as many generations before you have, but beware his love.

I do not know how he came to be imprisoned within those pools of blood or how the scarecrow came to be crucified on his dying tree. Perhaps you will read the volumes left behind by previous generations and within them find the answers. I do not know why I was so foolish as to believe I could find them without help. I pray you do not fall prey to the same arrogance as I.

These are the last words I write, darling. I leave my words behind hoping that you will be the undoing of this curse and that you will be a better queen than I. You may find all the writings of your ancestors within the libraries buried beneath the garden. You will know how to find them, though you may not know their use until it is too late. You will be brave, because you are stronger than those that have gone before.

These are the last words I, Aubra of Jarron, last queen of the Hanging Garden, leave my only daughter, Selene of Jarron, newest queen of the Hanging Garden.

Hua Tian Cuo

Today's song is by Wang Leehom or Leehom Wang. Not only is he talented, handsome and wonderful, but he was in my favorite Gackt movie ever! "Moon Child". And, to top it all off, this is my all time favorite song by him.

Hua Tian Cuo basically means "Mistake in the Flower Field". A beautiful title, truly! The video is pretty awesome too, because he can play old style Chinese instruments while singing of being in love and making mistakes! Got to love a man that can not only sing but play beautiful instruments too. Or at least I do!

For your viewing pleasures, "Hua Tian Cuo" by Wang Leehom

The Wedding (and 7 reasons it ruled)

Today one of my good girlfriends and her fiance got married. It was one of the best weddings I've ever been to and here are a few reasons why:

1. Brandon (the groom) and his groomsmen totally did the Carlton dance from "Fresh Prince of Bel-Air".
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uP-oylFQ0Dw (wouldn't let me embed it, but suffice to say seeing 3 white guys doing that dance in dress clothes was freakin' hysterical!)

2. Sarah (the bride) looked gorgeous!

3. There was alcohol!! Not only did it taste good, but it was reasonably priced and came in pretty cups!! :D Oh and being old enough to buy it made everything better, :P

4. The dancing was insane and I got to dance with that really cute chick I told you all about a few blogs back. The young woman who allowed me to rub her feet after she had been dancing in heels at the club with us.

5. The ceremony was short and sweet, nothing overly drawn out and nothing over the top. Sweet and simple.

6. We were there for 4 1/2 hours partying!!

7. Did I mention the crazy dancing? It ROCKED! :D

I went in my new dress with L.E.D and Kid. My brother came later, after his play rehearsal and Donnie, unfortunately, didn't get to go due to his insomnia acting up. Not that he would've enjoyed it too much since he would've hated all the music.

Sarah walked down the aisle to "Marry Me" by Train (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ghZt2cILcCU), after the bridal party walked down the aisle to "Don't want to Miss A Thing" by Aerosmith (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rKAn1HvmRXM). Her colors were White, Red and Blue. So there was American flag colored ribbons everywhere.

The only time that I started to get a little teary was when she was given away by her father and when she and her father had the Father-Daughter dance. The reasoning for that was because I don't have a father who is active in my life and I won't have that. It was sad, and at that moment I really missed Donnie too, but it was beautiful none the less.

After a ton of dancing, some drinking, some more dancing and cake, pictures and beautiful memories we found ourselves outside, in the rain, walking to Kid's car. Why is it that beautiful moments never seem to last and then they become beautiful memories?

It never ceases to amaze me when I look back on our childhoods and wonder where all the time went. We were young children living in the hopes of growing up and living life as adults in a crazy world. And here we are, adults living in a crazy world. We are grown up now, some of us fulfilling our dreams, some waiting for the moment to arrive, some have never grown up. Where does the time go? Where did our youths go?

So, here is to Sarah and Brandon on their beautiful wedding day. May they live happily ever after, the way the fairy tales say. May they have hard times and good times, times that bring them closer together when they could easily fall apart. May they have beautiful children, happy hearts and a house full of love. I wish all of these things in a world that doesn't believe in wishes. I wish all of this in the crazy hope that someday little children with the same dreams we have will look back and ask the same questions and wish the same things.

A Portrait of the Artist as a Flower

Humanity is a cannibalistic flower. We bloom, ever growing in this canopy of sky and sunshine. We devour ourselves, the bones of those before us, our brothers and sisters, our neighbors and friends. We are beautiful, colorful and chaotic. We are roses and dandelions, dancing and spinning through time and space.

Ever-changing and always the same. We are complex and simple in our complexities. We are a virgin and a whore, constantly moving from one body to the next in our hunger. This hunger is overwhelming, devouring us. In its wake we are transfixed by the greed and the need. We are sexuality and ritual, cannibals and whores. Flightless birds on a collision course.

We are a field of red. Red roses, red poppies, red paint dripping everywhere. Wars divide us, unite us. We stand alone, but stand together. We pick the flowers we like best and cut down the others, proclaiming them weeds. It is the same in every generation. We have our prejudices, our vices. We are purity and love, beauty and lust.

We are simplistic in our complex nature. Chaos mating simplicity and complexity in a ritualistic, cannibalistic and sexual frenzy. We try to escape, but there is no escaping the self. We find ourselves within the bodies of others, raping and killing, trying to find the truth in blood. In the end we are hacked down by the flowers behind us. Each of us weeping that it was not our time.

J-Rock Wizard of Oz (Chapter Three)

Current mood: Bitchy

Chapter Three: The Wicked Bitch Arrives


Just then there was a big explosion of horrible fashion, hypocrisy and too much perfume and in front of hide stood a woman. You could tell that this woman had been pretty, once. Now she was just a glob of out of date fashion, scented with way too much perfume and a fading "Meat is Murder" button attached to her left boob, which was so full of silicon that she could've created an entire Barbie Doll army. On her right boob was a grease stain from the hamburger that was still stuck in her teeth and her hair was a rainbow of colors that should never EVER exist.


"Well, if it isn't the other Wicked Bitch. Girls, this is Twink, Wicked Bitch of the West, Wicked Bitch of the East's little sister. You couldn't, perhaps, get back in your flying house and squish this one too could you?" asked hide.


"Pretty sure that isn't how it works hide." replied Sarai.


"Who killed my sister?! Who did it?" Twink looked at the girls and pointed a greasy, half eaten, chicken leg at them. Then, looking at what she had in her hand she tossed it into the sparkly flowers.


"They killed your sister, Twink. What are you going to do about it? Grease them up and eat them?" asked hide, lighting another cigarette.


Focusing her attention on hide, Twink seemed to forget that her sister was dead and that there were some magical shoes waiting to be taken. Typical bad guy, never pays attention.


"Silly hide, I don't eat meat. Meat is Murder, you should know that. I work with PETA, I am a vegan." said Twink in a really syrupy sweet voice.


"Really? So, what is that stuck in-between your rotting teeth? Is that... Why, yes it is! It's Cow meat. If Meat is Murder, you are a murderer!"


Twink twisted her bulging torso to face the voice that had said those words, her wrath-filled gaze falling on Pomme. Pomme gave a silly smile and then once again hid behind Sarai.


"Well," huffed Twink. "I've never been so insulted in all my life. Just give me my sister's magic shoes and I'll be on my merry little way."


"Well, you can't have them." replied hide.


"Why Not?!" screamed Twink.


"Because the rightful owner is wearing them. Just look!" with that, hide pointed at Pomme's feet which were now encased inside nine inches of electric blue heels.


At first Pomme was as stunned as anyone, then she began trying to tug them off exclaiming "EW, EW! I have a dead woman's shoes on my feet! EW! EW, EW!"


Thankfully, Sarai stopped Pomme, otherwise this would be the end of our story.


"You bitch!" exclaimed Twink. "Give me back those shoes! I bought those for her at a sale, they should come to me!" Twink reached toward the shoes, but before she could touch them hide played a chord on his magical guitar that caused the shoes to shock Twink's grubby hands.


"Be gone. They belong to her now and you have no power here. Besides, I have to get out of here soon, I have a magical band rehearsal to get to."


"Fine, I'll go," said Twink. "But keep this in mind, I'll get you..."


"My pretty, yeah I know, I know. And my pocket mom too. I know the gist." interrupted Pomme.


Then, with a flash of stale glitter, Twink was gone, leaving only the stench of her perfume and a half eaten chicken leg behind.


As soon as Twink was gone, hide turned and looked at the girls expectantly. He lit another cigarette and took a puff, waiting for someone to say something. Pomme was still worrying over having a dead woman’s shoes on her feet but Sarai was ignoring her.


“So, what are you going to do now?” asked hide.


“Um, not really sure. Maybe you could tell us how to get home?” replied Sarai.


“Well, actually, I was thinking I could just give you the general direction and leave it at that. My band practice starts in five.” A magic hot pink bubble suddenly appeared beside him and he threw away his cigarette. “If I were you, I would take the Pink Gibson Road, to Pink Star City. The Wizard of J-Rock lives there. He should be able to help you. By the way, just in case you don’t quite understand, the Pink Gibson road is the only road here and it is paved with pink Gibson guitars. Have fun! Nice meeting you, hope you survive.”


“Wait a minute! You said you would tell us how to get home!” Pomme cried, wobbling toward hide and the bubble.


“Yeah, you’re right. But I have to go. I don’t have time to explain it to you. Just follow the Pink Gibson Road. You’ll figure it out.” And with that hide got in his bubble and sped off, leaving a trail of pink spider shaped sparkles behind.


“Well, that was just fantastic. What if the munchkins come back?” asked Pomme.


“I don’t know, but looks like this is the start of the Pink Gibson Road, so let’s go.” With that, Sarai took Pomme’s hand and helped her walk along the first swirl of the Pink Gibson Road.

J-Rock Wizard of Oz (Chapter Two)

Current mood: Chipper

Chapter Two: “Sarai, I Don’t Think We’re in Japan Anymore.”


Outside of the door were very beautiful and tall statues of very androgynous people, so very androgynous that the pair had a very hard time figuring out if they were girl statues or boy statues. Beside these statues were tall, gaudy, flowers that spat sparkles into the air every time one of them tried to pick one. Slightly frightened, Pomme turned to her friend and said,


"Sarai, I don't think we're in Japan anymore."


Sarai calmly replied, "No shit, Sherlock! Does this look like Japan to you?!"


"No, I was trying to be Dorothy. You know, from the Wizard of Oz? I was making the line 'We aren't in Kansas anymore, Toto' fit our situation."


"Oh. Well, you are doing a crappy job, your hair isn't in braids and you aren't wearing the right outfit. I mean you don't even have a dog!"


"Yes I do! You’re my Toto!" Pomme ducked as Sarai swung at her and giggled hysterically as she ran toward a flower vomiting sparkles all over the place.


"So," said Pomme. "Where do you think we are Toto?"


"I am NOT your fucking Toto! And I have no clue."


All the sudden, the girls heard a trio of giggles coming from the sparkle spewing flowers. Pomme looked at Sarai and Sarai looked at Pomme.


"Are flowers that throw up sparkles supposed to giggle in threes?" asked Pomme.


"I don't know." replied Sarai, shrugging her shoulders.


"Why don't you go and check?" asked Pomme, coming up behind Sarai and shoving her towards the giggling vegetation.


"Scaredy cat," muttered Sarai, finding a stick and stretching to poke at one of the flowers. When she did this, a tiny person popped up from behind the flowers and smiled really big.


"Hi! I'm Yomi! And I'm a Munchkin! I'm a happy Munchkin!" It said. "You killed the Wicked Bitch of the East!"


"Okay, dude," said Sarai. "We didn't kill anyone and you can't prove it!"


"Yes I can!" replied the little person that called itself Yomi. "Come on, I will show you."


Coming out from behind the flowers, Yomi took Sarai's hand, as she was closest to its size, and took her over to where the abandoned house had landed. Peeking out just under the really crappy white trim was a pair of feet with nine inch electric blue heels on its feet.


"Well, crap. You said Wicked Bitch of the East? So that's a good thing right? Do we get a parade and cookies or something?" asked Pomme, edging closer to Sarai and Yomi.


"Actually, you must be sacrificed because the Wicked Bitch of the East was our leader. Get them boys!" just as he shouted that two other munchkins came up and grabbed Sarai and Pomme, dragging them over to some wooden poles surrounded by loads of firewood.


"Did you notice these when we first got out of the Crazy House?" whispered Pomme to Sarai.


"No. Pretty sure those weren't there before."


The Munchkins then proceeded to tie Pomme and Sarai to the wooden poles and begin to light the wood for the fire. The one that called itself Yomi smiled the biggest as the other two lit the kindling. As he smiled Sarai noticed that he had three huge fangs pointing out of his cute little mouth. One on the left of his front teeth, one on the right and one directly in-between his two front teeth. What had been an adorably androgynous munchkin had suddenly turned into one scary creature.


"Did you notice the fangs when that Munchkin first started talking to us?" asked Sarai.


"Fangs? What fangs?!" replied Pomme, panicking slightly.


"Oh, you didn't notice. Never mind."


Just then a hot pink bubble appeared and out stepped a man not much taller than the munchkins. This man was different than the Munchkins though, because on his back you could tell he had tried to sew fairy wings, it was an obviously failed attempt. This man had bright pink hair, big yellow shoes and an electric green suit, with purple fairy wings sewn haphazardly on the back. Pulling out a beautiful guitar, the man played a chord, that the munchkins apparently couldn't stand, that put out the fire and chased away the evil little midgets. It also untied the girls and made all the sacrifice equipment disappear.


Pulling out a cigarette, the man casually leaned against one of the statues and made his guitar disappear.


"Thanks a lot, mister." said the girls, in stereo.


"How did you get to this land?" asked the man, pulling a drag off of his cigarette and running a hand through his hair.


"Well, there was this really bad storm where we're from and somehow we got transported here. Have you ever seen The Wizard of Oz? Yeah, that's kind of how it happened." replied Pomme.

For a moment, the man just stared at her, and then started laughing. "Well, you did me a favor. I've been trying to get rid of that stupid bitch for YEARS! Never knew that I had to drop a house on her ass to get rid of her. So, I owe you one favor. I can tell you how to get back to where you are from, I can teach you to play a magical guitar or I can give you some candy. Your choice."


Pomme began to speak, but Sarai cut her off, saying, "Well, first I think we'd like to know your name, before we start asking favors."


"My name is hide. That is he-day, and it is spelled like hide with a lower case h. Capitalize that H and we are going to have issues. What about your names?"


"Well, I'm Pomegranate, but you can call me Pomme and this is Toto. I mean, Sarai. I totally meant Sarai." Pomme began to giggle and Sarai shot her the look of death when hide looked at Sarai's forehead.


"So, Sarai, it was Sarai? Why do you have a dick tattoo on your head?"

"Dick tattoo?" asked Sarai. Her hand went up to her forehead and came back with the marker that Pomme had used to draw the dick. She looked at Pomme and growled, "You drew a Dick on my forehead?! We could've died and you are drawing penises on my forehead! I'm going to kill you!"


Lunging at Pomme, Sarai tripped and fell to the ground, which was the perfect angle for her to see the shoes the Wicked Bitch had been wearing before she bit the big one.


"Hey, hide, what about the shoes? I mean, they have to have some magic right?"


"Well, yeah they have magic. This is the world of J-Rock."


"J-Rock, what's that?" asked Pomme. Now it was hide's turn to give a dirty look, cringing Pomme hid behind Toto, I mean Sarai. She hid behind Sarai.


"You don't know about J-Rock? Why, this is the land of J-Rock from where you stand to the Pink Star City far to the West. Have you never heard of the forest of Guitars? Or the fields of Androgyny?"


"Um, going to have to say no on that one." replied Pomme. "But I would love to learn more about you and this place. I'm a big fan of androgyny."