Private Writings: Chapter #74 “The Return to Awareness”

private writings a novel of true fantasy by jennifer kiley [shawn's 2d blue name]

“The Return To Awareness”
Private Writings #74
Written by Jennifer Kiley
Post Tuesday 12th August 2014

WARNING: ADULT LANGUAGE AND CONTENT
Not Suitable For Children.
ALL CHARACTERS ARE FICTITIOUS.
Anyone Resembling Anyone Living or Dead
Is Purely Coincidental.

1 alice-down-the-rabbithole [use best one]

Crypticistic Synopsis:

private writings to dr. annie haskell psychoanalyst

I am the storyteller using imagination fantasy feelings & thoughts

to discover self soul eternal serenity & bliss

but to most importantly tell the best tale ever after upon a time.

see you down the rabbit hole.

Private Writings: Chapter #74 — “The Return To Awareness”

Tuesday 3rd February 2009

Dear Annie,

I’d like to tell you a touch about my Grandmother. She meant more to me than anyone ever has in my life. Tosh was a lot like her. Tosh died just before my Gran did. So it was a double blow. I was crushed. It was too much for me to handle. It was one of my Famous suicide attempts. Came close to succeeding then too. With all the love I felt for Tosh & Gran, I had no one to turn to to mourn their death. I felt there wasn’t a reason to survive if all that I loved was gone.

I must tell you that my grandmother had no idea what was happening inside the perverted family I was born into, with the exception of her. Once a year I was allowed to stay with her for a month during the summer. I would forget all about them. Then they came to get me. They missed their sex slave. Their whipping object. They wanted me back where they felt I belonged. When it was time to leave, I would wrap my arms around my Grandmother so tight and lock my hands behind her back. She was rather thin & I had long arms. They would tear my hands apart and they would pull and pull until they had me. Once I was in their possession again, they would drag me out to the car, and sit me in the front seat between my parental units. I think they thought I would try to escape out the car door as they attempted to drive away. Anyway, they weren’t going to take any chances. I was a slippery one. As I said before, I use to run away all of the time. Favorite place to hide was in the woods. No one ever found me there.

Sylvia Kendall crashed through into that dark nightmare and set free the demons locked up tightly inside steel bolted doors. And the evil has been running amok ever since. That is why I had to kill myself. I hated the feelings and sensations that were surfacing. The creepiness of their faces and the memories coming back in flashbacks, quick images, smells, hands with no faces, and my nightmares have returned. I don’t know how to block them any longer. I thought I had them locked away forever until Sylvia Kendall walked into my life and took it over.

You would think I would be thrilled at knowing Sylvia Kendall, after all she is the daughter of one of my favorite actors of all time. They don’t have the same last name. I think Sylvia told me once she 0wanted to make it without her mother’s help. Now I wonder just what made Sylvia into what she is today. Her mother is the epitome of Grandness. She’s British. Sylvia was born in the UK but then the family moved to the states. There were more parts available and her mother became an overnight success in the USA.

Who is her mother, you are wondering? I met her after Sylvia starred in her first film with our Studio, Infinite Imaginations, Inc. [usually referred to as III or Tres]. Our film premiered at Cannes. Her mom attended. She knew who I was, the screenwriter for the film, and she knew Scottie from her reputation as the Film Director with the Rising Star. Her name is none other than Academy & Tony Award Winner, Catherine Leighton. She is beautiful & I have had a crush on her since I was a kid & always will love her.

I agree with Catherine Leighton, Scottie knows exactly what to do with the scripts I give her. Rewrites are fun. She is easy to work with. Quiet but direct with what she wants and expects from her team. We, also, have one of the best Casting Directors. She has been with us from the very beginning. She tried to direct us away from casting Sylvia but I had to insist Scottie give her a screen test. Was it my love of her mother or was she really that good?

No matter the reason, it was an all around poor choice on my part, to coerce Scottie, that is what it felt like, to give Sylvia her chance. I couldn’t help myself. She was attractive. But then, I didn’t know her yet. No one did. We only found out after who she was related to. It was too late by the time Sylvia cast off her kitten costume, and saw the picture of Dorian Grey before our eyes. She was ugly deep inside her bones. And definitely certifiably insane. A person who needed to be locked away to protect her from the rest of us. She fucked with everyone. So don’t tell me she didn’t use her mother’s cred to get all she wanted. And screwing everyone on the way to getting her satisfaction.

I will tell you more as the story continues to unfold. She is still alive, hanging over a melting flow of lava, just waiting for her to drop. Death is such a strange element that opposes life’s existence. Life & Death are always in a battle to keep or get the good ones. Neither wins that battle they all end up in both places eventually & the good, the bad & the brute all join in Death, the final destination. Something tells me that isn’t even close to the truth of the Hereafter, if there is one. I’d like to create that illusion in my head. What it might be. I have a strong feeling we create our own afterlife & I try to imagine mine to be something special with all the animals & people I love. And it is quite similar in design to the island of Barbados.

Well, it felt good to write this to you, Annie. It makes me feel somewhat lighter. It gives me a sense of positivity. That is good.

Goodnight. Ciao Ciao!!!

Love,

Madison

@>-;–

© Madison Taylor 2008

“I think writing really helps you heal yourself. I think if you write long enough, you will be a healthy person. That is, if you write what you need to write, as opposed to what will make money, or what will make fame.“ — Alice Walker


Maksim – Somewhere In Time – Composer John Barry[Dedicated to Annie]

5 photo of white rose with red framed in blue

“A Dream
The beginning always starts out
With a dream.
It is all a dream
In our own nightmares”
— Madison Taylor

Le Chateau de Rocher - Home to Madison & Scottie Their Cats & daughter Alison. She has her own place on the estate

Le Chateau de Rocher – Home to Madison & Scottie
Their Cats & daughter Alison. She also has her own place on the estate

play is not just play meryl streep“Pretending is not just play.
Pretending is imagined possibility”
— Meryl Streep

Medicalmarijuana red cross marijuana leaf black bgMedical Marijuana

 

Private Moments #73 “What Doesn’t Belong”

private moments in paintings & poetryPrivate Moments #73: “Idea – What Doesn’t Belong”
Poem Written by Jennifer Kiley
Post 4th August 2014
Poem for Private Writings: Chapter #73
“Waiting for Life”
Painting “Out of Order”
by Jk McCormack

“For that fine madness still he did retain,
Which rightly should possess a poet’s brain.”
~Michael Drayton~ (1563-1631)

out of order by jkmccormack (c) jkm 2014

“Out of Order” jkmccormack (c) jkm 2009

hands reaching out into rain

“What Doesn’t Belong”
By Madison Taylor
27th January 2009

Take away
What doesn’t belong
Take away
What doesn’t fit

Write down these words
The poem must rip
Cut off its edges
Let the mind trip

Talk about truths
Hidden in lies
Tear it all up
Route out the spies

Talk about traitors
Lying in wait
Screaming obscenities
Exposing our fate

The Black Ops have found us
We’ve been buried inside
The tunnel of darkness
Where we know we will die

Never surrender
What we believe
They’ll take it from us
Every thought they’ll retrieve

The torture’s destroying
The rest of our mind
Soon all the thinkers
Will be deaf mute and blind

The end of this tale
It will never be told
Believe what they tell us
Soon enough all will be cold

© madison taylor 2008

candle flame flickering gif

Rhapsody on a Theme of Paganini – Composer Rachmaninoff – Pianist Maksim Mrvica

garden waterfall private gazebo overgrown 4pmip&p

“Doorway to a Place of Enchantment”

“Creating is having the courage
to allow the seer into the private
moments of our imaginative lives.”

— Jkm the secret keeper
aka Jennifer Kiley McCormack

red-heart-for mj ghost 1

* * * * * * *

Private Writings: Chapter #72 – “Waiting on Death”

private writings a novel of true fantasy by jennifer kiley [shawn's 2d blue name]

“Waiting on Death”
Private Writings #72
Written by Jennifer Kiley
Post Tuesday 29th July 2014

WARNING: ADULT LANGUAGE AND CONTENT
Not Suitable For Children.

ALL CHARACTERS ARE FICTITIOUS.
Anyone Resembling Anyone Living or Dead
Is Purely Coincidental.

1 alice-down-the-rabbithole [use best one]

Crypticistic Synopsis:

private writings to dr. annie haskell psychoanalyst

I am the storyteller using imagination fantasy feelings & thoughts

to discover self soul eternal serenity & bliss

but to most importantly tell the best tale ever after upon a time.

see you down the rabbit hole.

Private Writings: Chapter #72 — “Waiting on Death”

Tuesday 20th January 2009

Dear Annie,

It has been too long a time since the accident & our daughter Alison is still in a coma. I can’t bear the thought of losing her. The doctors all say this is a good sign. She needs to be unconscious to do any of the extreme healing she needs to do in order to survive & to have a complete recovery. The doctors won’t guarantee anything. Not even that she will wake up from her coma. Her injuries were so severe.

I have tried, Annie, to keep only positive thoughts inside my mind for Alison. Letting doubt in will only lessen her chances to survive. I would like to think of her as resting. She needs time to sleep. The quiet and rest will help her to heal faster. But I need to see her all the time. And to be close to Scottie. We all need to be together now.

Scottie told me Jamie has been at the hospital since everything fell apart. Jamie is watching over us all. Her staying with Scottie and Alison before I was able to get out of Redcliff was reassuring. Jamie was kind to represent me when my girls needed help & I was out of commission. That’s okay. No jealousy when it comes to Jamie. I love Jamie. She is so good for both my girls and for me, too. Jamie is family.

Before I could get home, James’ health started declining. The hospital allowed him to stay in Alison’s room. He became depressed in my absence and went on an eating strike. The vet couldn’t find anything specifically wrong. He is my baby and was my Grandmother’s baby. He, of course, misses Gran. So, my disappearing for so long, he just couldn’t bear it.

Gran was wise in preparing for when she would be gone. She left the majority of her Estate to James & me. Some money she left to her Special Causes & Charities. It stated in Her Will that James was to be cared for by me & we were to have most of her financial estate as well as her physical property. James & I were to go on living together in her mansion “Le Chateau de Rocher” with Scottie & all the rest of our feline crew. We inherited her staff as well. They knew me & we all blend together famously. So the estate was shared by James and me with all of us living there. My grandmother loved James and she loved Scottie. She was very approving and supportive of our relationship. The rest of the ones I do not speak of were given nothing. Not even a word was mentioned of them in Her Will. They were really pissed off, so I was told was quoted in the daily gossip online.

It’s time for me to stop. I need to rest. Writing shorter letters, to me short, is all I can manage. Not much has changed. Will contact you immediately if it does.

Goodnight. Ciao Ciao!!!

Love,

Madison

@>-;–

© Madison Taylor 2008

“I think writing really helps you heal yourself. I think if you write long enough, you will be a healthy person. That is, if you write what you need to write, as opposed to what will make money, or what will make fame.“ — Alice Walker


Maksim – Somewhere In Time – Composer John Barry[Dedicated to Annie]

5 photo of white rose with red framed in blue

“A Dream
The beginning always starts out
With a dream.
It is all a dream
In our own nightmares”
— Madison Taylor

Le Chateau de Rocher - Home to Madison & Scottie Their Cats & daughter Alison. She has her own place on the estate

Le Chateau de Rocher – Home to Madison & Scottie
Their Cats & daughter Alison. She also has her own place on the estate

play is not just play meryl streep“Pretending is not just play.
Pretending is imagined possibility”
— Meryl Streep

Medicalmarijuana red cross marijuana leaf black bgMedical Marijuana

 

Private Writings: Chapter #69 – “Don’t Hide Your Love”

private writings a novel of true fantasy by jennifer kiley [shawn's 2d blue name]

“Don’t Hide Your Love”
Private Writings #69
Written by Jennifer Kiley
Post Tuesday 8th July 2014

WARNING: ADULT LANGUAGE AND CONTENT
Not Suitable For Children.
ALL CHARACTERS ARE FICTITIOUS.
Anyone Resembling Anyone Living or Dead
Is Purely Coincidental.

1 alice-down-the-rabbithole [use best one]

Crypticistic Synopsis:

private writings to dr. annie haskell psychoanalyst

I am the storyteller using imagination fantasy feelings & thoughts

to discover self soul eternal serenity & bliss

but to most importantly tell the best tale ever after upon a time.

see you down the rabbit hole.

Private Writings: Chapter #69 — “Don’t Hide You Love”

Tuesday 30th December 2008

Dear Annie,

Am I wrong in telling you I love you? It is difficult to keep my feelings to myself. I feel I am being dishonest by not telling you the truth. Please accept I mean no harm to our relationship. You are so sensitive & you seem to understand me. Even if you don’t feel the same, it wouldn’t stop me feeling the intensity of emotions I hold inside every part of me.

You have become my latest fantasy & I hope what I feel for you is true for you, also. It would be confusing to me on what to do. I cannot prevent the way your eyes speak words to me no one else can hear. It was my secret but now it is ours. For the present I know what my feelings are, but I don’t know if you feel frightened by them. I would just like you to feel a portion of what I feel. I know you’re married and have a young teenage daughter.

Maybe you aren’t aware of what you’re feeling. They lie deep below the surface. They could be hiding while they grow. It is a huge step to discover having feelings for someone of the same sex & add to that she is your client. That is verboten. Not by me, though. I would love for you to love me in the way loving you makes me feel.

Is it impossible for you to acknowledge the possible, though it crashes up against your psychotherapist’s code? I will wait until the moment arrives when we are free & it will be okay to express what we truly feel.

For now you can tell me I am simply experiencing a natural reaction to therapy. If you want to believe that, let it be your truth, feel that way for now. I will hold our secret until it can be revealed. I am not nuts. My feelings are real. Maybe they will be real for you someday. I feel inside my heart, you feel toward me a shade of what I feel for you. Remember, I am psychic.

Now, I feel it is an important time for me to speak this awareness of truth. The experience is an overload of extremely intense feelings 0f love for you. I am sure what I feel inside me is love for you.

Don’t worry that I will let these feelings interfere with our therapeutic relationship. I miss you and I love you, Annie, but most of all I need you to be my psychoanalyst first.

Maybe I am missing you & everyone I love, but they have to deal with missing me & they are worried after I tried suicide to rid myself of the darkness. It doesn’t, you know. Trying to commit suicide just makes me feel more depressed & it doesn’t solve anything except getting me locked up in Redcliff to protect me from myself. It has taken away my medical marijuana. That fucks with my head more then trying suicide. I’m not so scary anymore & I have no plans of repeating myself with an encore performance. It sucks to be locked up to protect me from myself. I don’t need that protection any longer.

I WANT OUT OF HERE. IT’S MAKING ME CRAZY MORE THAN THE REAL WORLD. Think about that Annie. You are my psychoanalyst & must have some say in my incarceration in a psychiatric facility. I am feeling more & more claustrophobic. I need my own place, where I feel secure. Well, maybe a bit less secure. But if I don’t get home soon & correct these insecure feelings, I may never feel safe anywhere, ever again.

SO PLEASE BREAK ME OUT OF HERE. Please speak to Dr. V. Convince her I am ready to go home. I must go home. Something awful is going to happen if I don’t. I feel danger in every fiber of my being. Trust me when I tell you this. My sensitivities are experiencing an overload of negative energy. I feel the world, my world is about to Explode.

I need to stop what is coming. I think & feel I am the only one who can.

Goodnight for now as I wade through the overwhelming thoughts of a catastrophic event about to occur.

Ciao Ciao!!!

Love,

Madison

Ps. I am extremely worried. You must help me, Annie.

@>-;–

© Madison Taylor 2008

“I think writing really helps you heal yourself. I think if you write long enough, you will be a healthy person. That is, if you write what you need to write, as opposed to what will make money, or what will make fame.“ — Alice Walker


Maksim – Somewhere In Time – Composer John Barry[Dedicated to Annie]

5 photo of white rose with red framed in blue

“A Dream
The beginning always starts out
With a dream.
It is all a dream
In our own nightmares”
— Madison Taylor

Le Chateau de Rocher - Home to Madison & Scottie Their Cats & daughter Alison. She has her own place on the estate

Le Chateau de Rocher – Home to Madison & Scottie
Their Cats & daughter Alison. She also has her own place on the estate

play is not just play meryl streep“Pretending is not just play.
Pretending is imagined possibility”
— Meryl Streep

Medicalmarijuana red cross marijuana leaf black bgMedical Marijuana

 

Private Writings #65 – “I Said Hello You Said Goodbye”

private writings a novel of true fantasy by jennifer kiley [shawn's 2d blue name]

“I Said Hello You Said Goodbye”
Private Writings #65
Written by Jennifer Kiley
Post Tuesday 10th June 2014

WARNING: ADULT LANGUAGE AND CONTENT
Not Suitable For Children.

ALL CHARACTERS ARE FICTITIOUS.
Anyone Resembling Anyone Living or Dead
Is Purely Coincidental.

Crypticistic Synopsis:

private writings to dr. annie haskell psychoanalyst

I am the storyteller using imagination fantasy feelings & thoughts

to discover self soul eternal serenity & bliss

but to most importantly tell the best tale ever after upon a time.

see you down the rabbit hole.

Private Writings: Chapter #65. — “I Said Hello You Said Goodbye”

Tuesday 2nd December 2008

Dear Annie,

Tell me what it is to be sexually attracted to someone whether you are a lesbian or straight. I feel so fucked up and suicidal right now and overwhelmed with anxiety. Confusion fills my mind. I need to draw from something sane to stabilize myself.

Something wants to take over my body or thoughts. It could be the voice I feel is coming from a ghost.

There has also been something very bizarre occurrences of objects moving, sudden winds, books fall off shelves, rather more like books being thrown off bookshelves and desks by invisible forces. The aberration has been very angry today and quite destructive. It’s either a ghost or my telekinetic energy mad as hell and sending out tremendous amounts from a negative energy flow, causing waves of the power to move objects and send them sailing.

It is odd but I have no feelings. I’ve shut them down. I may be trying to escape but I can’t. My life won’t leave me alone. It demands attention. It doesn’t like being all fucked up. My life is always with me no matter where I try to escape or into what insane state of mind that I produce. All the shit will still be here facing me down. There’s far too much pressure for me to handle safely. I have cracked in many vulnerable places. They feel like they could blow my mind away at any moment in & outside of time. I believe the rest of what is “me” would disappear with it.

For a quick moment, I would like to profess or confess, I HATE MY FAMILY, the part that tried destroying me. The pedophiles who forced me into experiencing their perverse needs and desires. They satisfied them on me. Stealing my innocence inside of their perversions. Presently, my gut feels like they have cut my insides open in order to watch me fall out & splatter over everything & everywhere. It is the most disgusting display of gross intentions.

I am Humpty Dumpty & no matter how hard I have tried, No One Seems To Be Able To Succeed In Putting Me Back Together Again. Nor Will They Ever, I Feel. Hope feels lost amongst the ruins of my once intricately commanding mind. I have failed or haven’t succeeded beating them back enough, far away from my center of being. Their corruption has infected me & I haven’t found there is a cure for the poisons they possess.

If I could have the dream life I wished for, not much would change. I love my new family. I never see the old one. The grandparents I love are gone. My grandmother is with me, inside every part of me, especially my heart & soul. She lifts me up into the sky to soar while I dream. When I am awake, my Muse & my grandmother are quite the pair when they work on me together. Sparks fly out of my fingers as I type on the keyboard. As the words appear on the page, I can see the flames licking the screen & feel their warmth caressing the meaning from out of the free flowing air around us. It is quite mystical & pixelated when those two are involved.

What I don’t understand is why was I born if life were only here to crush me? I feel my chest taking in air & the pain engulfs me. Something punches my body while I sleep. It feels like I lose every battle on any night they’re out to batter me. Who “they” are, I would conjecture they are “EVIL” & belong to the deepest Blackness where demons hide out in the Dark. I was born Good & it has always been necessary to try to destroy that strong element inside of me. But I am a fighter with a strength coming from the Unknown, which seems to want me to win the battle. All of the Battles, even if it feels like I have already lost & resigned.

Can’t wait to see your face looking back at me. I need to see your eyes. They give me strength & kindness. I need to be close to you & want you to hold me. Make me a promise, never to let me go.

Time for Group Therapy. We are talking about what we Feel is Real Today. What the Fuck is Real? It doesn’t exist. Reality. It is what is the Illusion. Fantasy & Imagination Are the True World while We Are Awake. HELL is where We Live when We Trip through Our Own Private Dreams. The Theory that the World Is Watching Is Only A Way To Jerk the Trolls of Nightmares Around into Believing in the Fake Reality. The One that Is Presented to Us through the Faux Media. It Is All A Manipulated Illusionary Perception We Are Meant To Believe In.

I will leave that last thought with you to Ponder. Maybe she [Me] has lost her mind somewhere in the swamp of Hell & Fire.

Don’t worry I am still here somewhere inside of my own mind.

Will write more soon.

Just How Many More Days Do I Have To Count Until I Am Released From My Own Private Prison?

Love Fondly,

Madison

@>-;–

© Madison Taylor 2008

“I think writing really helps you heal yourself. I think if you write long enough, you will be a healthy person. That is, if you write what you need to write, as opposed to what will make money, or what will make fame.“ — Alice Walker

5 photo of white rose with red framed in blue

“A Dream
The beginning always starts out
With a dream.
It is all a dream
In our own nightmares”
— Madison Taylor

negative of le chateau de rocher by j. kiley (c) jennifer kiley 2013Le Chateau de Rocher – Home to Madison & Scottie
Their Cats & daughter Alison. She has her own place on the estate

play is not just play meryl streep“Pretending is not just play.
Pretending is imagined possibility”
— Meryl Streep

Medicalmarijuana red cross marijuana leaf black bgMedical Marijuana

Private Writings: Chapter #62 – “Act Natural Be GAY”

private writings to a psychoanalyst (c) Jk 2013“Act Natural Be GAY”

Private Writings: Chapter #62

Written by Jennifer Kiley

Posted On Tuesday 20th May 2014

WARNING: ADULT LANGUAGE AND CONTENT.
Not Suitable For Children.
All Characters Are Fictitious.
Anyone Resembling Anyone Living or Dead
Is Purely Coincidental.

Crypticistic Synopsis

private writings to dr. annie haskell psychoanalyst

I am the storyteller using imagination fantasy feelings & thoughts to discover self soul eternal serenity & bliss but to most importantly tell the best tale ever after upon a time

see you down the rabbit hole.

Private Writings: Chapter #62 — “Act Natural Be GAY”

Tuesday 11th November 2008

Dear Annie,

I don’t speak his name. The last time I saw him he leaned into give me a kiss. I thought it would of course be innocent. A male parental figure was standing very nearby. He could see anything if there was anything to see. My guard was down. Never expecting him to do what was the last time he physically touched me. It was inappropriate what he did. Some may think tame. I felt disgusted. It was a lean in for a kiss on the cheek & turned into a full frontal assault. He grabbed at my breasts with one hand & with the other, he had his open palm hard up against the back of my head. What the fuck just happened?

He forced himself onto me. His tongue tried to push its way inside of my mouth. It felt awkward. I pushed him away & laughed off his assault. When I left that day, years ago, it was the last time I was ever physically in his presence again. Seeing him gives me nightmares & I see him in my dreams. It seems I get regular visits from the undead when I am sleeping. And now I see them in window glass, reflecting back at me. it shook me up seeing her face.

I think she is watching me. Maybe it is her punishment for her unbecoming not like parent’s behavior at all. She must see how I have been since I have left them behind. College & psychotherapy have saved me. So has smoking weed. It calms down my nerves. Helps me be able to talk to one person at a time. Not one for large gatherings. More so now. I love my quiet time to write & paint.

I want to know what it feels like to love someone without ever having experienced any of the abuse & punishment I had to endure. Add onto the degree of treachery in my childhood, I am surprised I never succeeded at killing myself. Suicide is with me all the time. It may take time off for some quiet time but the depression and suicidal thoughts & feelings circulate my senses whenever I come off of a manic phase. Presently I am manic. I don’t get it. What is it that Scottie is experiencing with me when she tells me I am manic. I know what depression probably looks like. It is awful to feel it. I’ve grown accustomed to the music I want to hear when I am going down under into the darkness. The music is essential. It is my companion among the walking dead.

When I am not depressed, I do not want to ever die. If I could find a cure for Death, I would certainly use it. One exception, the pain, it would have to exist on a reasonable level of endurance. I would want to feel pleasure & to give pleasure. I would want my sexual creatures who spook me away from touch & hugging & kissing. It is not that I don’t enjoy being touched by a woman I love, it is my not being able to give the completeness of love to her or to myself while I am with someone I would want to make love to in as free a fashion as possible. I love the sensation of my body being aroused. It is the release that brings on all the problems & rejections & turning cold at the touch of anyone who tried to make love to me. Maybe I make love to them or I am just trying to bring them some kind of satisfaction, knowing eventually I will be a failure & the lady I have strong feelings for will just suddenly disappeared as quickly as she appeared in my life.

What am I really afraid to tell you Annie? Why am I hiding away from facing you? I know why. I have been pushing my physical feelings for you down. I believe I am in love with you. I desire everything about you. Your voice melts the nerves inside my body & I want so much just to be held in your arms. And if you would allow, I would love to hold you close to me.

If I fantasized on what I would want from you, I would say, I would want to love you. To find the formula inside of you to bring me out of the shell I have been trapped in from the moment the first wrong person did things to me that made me feel ashamed & frightened.

I thought the first time, he might kill me. I heard later on when I was older that some of the places my abusers would take me were remote. There were never any people around except myself & the abuser of choice my male parental unit would assign me to take care of.

He made connections using me. The people that used me sexually were important men. They had power. If anyone ever were to find out what they were doing to me, they would kill me. I don’t imagine that, it was the kind of threat I received all the time. One time I made a pedophile so angry when I wanted him to stop. When he didn’t I threatened to go to the police. They would stop them all.

His rage came flying out. He held tightly to my throat with his right hand & his left hand was held up to punch me in the face. I stood my ground as solid as I could. He told me if he ever heard me use any kind of threat like that again, he would kill me. He said that sex from children was easy to find. I wasn’t his only sex toy.

This made me feel sick to my stomach. It felt like I was going to die. I was trapped inside this shit by my own semen donor. He was such a filthy pig & still is. Now he’s just trying to steal my inheritance from my grandmother. No relation to my A.I. She hated him but had no idea what he was making me do.

I was a sex slave to anything he wanted me to do. And my shadow mother was the torturer. The two together made Caligula look like an innocent yet still a madman.

It was a true den of iniquity. No one knew what anyone else was doing. I lived in a den of snakes of the poisonous kind. The poison didn’t kill me but it made me blind to my senses. I lost the ability to tell reality from madness. What does one do when most of their childhood was filled with evil from bad men & women?

I have been working on getting better most of my life after 19. That’s when I started therapy & have been in & out of new therapists’ offices ever since.

I want you to stay around for a long time. I need you in my life so don’t abandon me. Please be the exception.

I wanted you to do me a favor. Since I have missed so many of the meetings of the new trauma group you run with a new therapist to me. I love her name, “Maria Garcia Falcón.” I definitely am going to be back as soon as I am able to walk out of Redcliff. I really miss certain people more than others. I miss you. I miss Maria. She is always so good to me & understanding. It really feels like Maria gets me.

Enough for now. Just please root for me Annie. I want to go home. My babies are going to be so annoyed with me, they probably won’t let me pet them when I do get home, just to punish me. No, they are not the vindictive types. They are quite Zen our sweet babies.

Love & Hugs
Madison
@>-;–

© Madison Taylor 2008

“I think writing really helps you heal yourself. I think if you write long enough, you will be a healthy person. That is, if you write what you need to write, as opposed to what will make money, or what will make fame.“ — Alice Walker

Red Calla Lily Aranal Flower

Red Calla Lily Aranal Flower

“A Dream
The beginning always starts out
With a dream.
It is all a dream
In our own nightmares”
— Madison Taylor

negative of le chateau de rocher by j. kiley (c) jennifer kiley 2013Le Chateau de Rocher [Home to Madison & Scottie – their Cats & daughter Alison. She has her own place on the estate

play is not just play meryl streep“Pretending is not just play. Pretending is imagined possibility” — Meryl Streep

Medicalmarijuana red cross marijuana leaf black bgMedical Marijuana

Private Writings: Chapter #47 — Just One More Time

private writings to a psychoanalyst (c) Jk 2013

Private Writings: Chapter #47 — Just One More Time

Written by Jennifer Kiley
Introduction & Chapter #1
Published on March 19th 2013
Published Early Tuesday AM
Posted On Tuesday 4th February 2014

WARNING: ADULT LANGUAGE AND CONTENT.

NOT SUITABLE FOR CHILDREN.
ALL CHARACTERS ARE FICTITIOUS.

ANYONE RESEMBLING ANYONE LIVING OR DEAD
IS PURELY COINCIDENTAL.

Crypticistic Synopsis:

private writings to dr. annie haskell,
psychoanalyst extraordinaire,
storytelling using letters, dreams, thoughts, poems, images,
music, art, scripts, psychotherapy, psychoanalysis,
inspirations, reflective comments, inner/outer workings
mind, soul, body, emotions, bipolar, mentally creative, interesting,
brain misfiring; abuse, crashes, near drownings,
hallucinations, heightened sexuality, time warps,
finding answers, unsolved mysteries, infatuations,
imagination, fantasy, discover self, soul, eternal serenity, bliss

see you down the rabbit hole.
namaste! madison taylor

Private Writings: Chapter #47 — Just One More Time

Tuesday 29th July 2008

Dear Annie,

I am going to tell you a story. It is true. It really did happen. The press never found this one out. There are only a few people who know this. You are about to become one of those few. Absolute secrecy has to be swore before you can read any further. Promise never to repeat even a word of this very private affair.

In all happened in 1997. She was 23. I was 25. Scottie and I had been together since we met at Yale, We were both in Drama and Film Studies. That was 7 years back from 1997. So, at this time we had established ourselves into making Independent Films. I wrote the scripts. Scottie directed. We both had money, and my grandmother left me an inheritance that makes me set for life times to come. Somehow, I will have to figure out how to leave some of it for future reincarnated selves. All the rest will go to Scottie and Alison and maybe some grandkids.

I got a wee bit off track. The money plays a part in this story, in that it enabled us to create our own production company. We named it, “Infinite Imaginations, Inc.” It belonged to both of us equally. As I noted, I wrote and Scottie directed and edited. She loves the editing. I wrote a script with a great female lead. When it came time to cast, we were looking for someone with no visible history, an unknown. She needed to a young twenty-three year old. Specifics were 5′ 5″ and slender. A lady with blue, blue eyes, who can be rough within a softness inside. The hair must be wavy and moderately long. And she’ll needs a smile that slaughters and makes one weak at the knees. The last touches come from the tone of her body. It must be from someone who is familiar with nature, with an outside natural tan. Her hair must be light brown toward blondish with a brightness to it. Hair color, you can make it light but it must blend well with the skin color.

The try outs and screen tests were exciting. It was Scottie, myself, and our casting director, Cary Traynor, a great friend we met while finishing our Film Studies at NYU. Living in the Village was a wild trip. We had a place on Bleeker Street and spent a lot of time in Washington Square Park filming. There was a small group of us who together worked on creating short films. I was the go to word person and Scottie was the force, she directed. But she was always doing editing, too. The final cut was her passion. The others in our group joined I.I.Inc. since the beginning. Our cinematographer is my beautiful gay friend. We have made a promise to each other. If some day we were old and alone, we would get married. But Scottie needs to be old with me.

Back to the try outs. I have a difficult time staying focused. At the try out, in walks the perfect female actor for the lead. Her photos and credits were in front of us. She looked so different in visual proximity. I was so knocked over by her presence, I forgot to breath. I stood up to do what I don’t remember, but I fainted dead away. When my eyes opened, everyone was standing around me. She was standing there, too. Her eyes looked into mine. They were hypnotic. My breathing was off. I had no idea how long I was out but the paramedics had just arrived. I just wanted to watch her.

The paramedics left me with a clean bill of health. I just needed to eat and hydrate. Always forgetting to do that. But back to the story.

Who was this person? I needed to find out. On her papers, her name is given as, Sylvia Kendell. A list of theatre productions, some Off-Broadway, some Repertory, and a few Productions at the Westport Country Playhouse. But nothing where she would have been too visible. That was actually in her favor. I told Scottie we should test her. My feelings were she was perfect. With an unanimous vote, Sylvia Kendell was about to find out if she was going to star as the lead to our very first film. It would be a complete virgin film production by I.I.Inc.

Sylvia tested extremely well. We had her read a part from my script and I read the lines with her while she was being filmed. Before the rewrites, the part of the script we read from takes place in a restaurant two women sitting at a table. These were the lines Sylvia Kendell read with me off camera:

S.K.
What does it mean, you don’t trust me?
What have I done?

M.T.
You lied. You knew she was back and never told me.

S.K.
You were away when she returned
and so angry with her.
I didn’t know how to tell you.
And didn’t want to hurt you.

M.T.
You betrayed me instead. Choose.
Either you’re my friend or hers.
It can’t be both.

S.K.
She’s my friend.
So, are you.
I will not choose.

M.T.
Then we are no longer friends.

S.K.
Please don’t do this.
I can’t bare to lose you.

M.T.
You already have. Are you blind.
What was between us is over.
Now it will be only business.

S.K.
Why are you doing this?

M.T.
It’s over.
We are nothing any longer.

S.K.
Didn’t I mean anything to you?

M.T.
You took any meaning away
with what you’re doing.

S.K.
I love you. How can you
destroy that love,
over my being friends
with someone else.

M.T.
It isn’t someone else.
It’s her. Now there is
no love left between us.
You mean absolutely
nothing to me.

S.K.
You are killing me here.

M.T.
Give her up then.
Send her away.
You let her go,
then I will tell you
what I feel for you.

S.K.
You’ve already told me you love me.
Was that a lie?

M.T.
I won’t say another word until
she is gone from your life.

S.K.
You are being irrational
and unreasonable.
I won’t give her up.

M.T.
I’ve got to go.

[M.K. Gets up from table and exits restaurant]

S.K.
What the bloody fuck just happened?

[She shows devastation on her face as she waves for the waiter]

FADE OUT

Sylvia was so powerful. She performed magic into the camera. The group were unanimous in Sylvia Kendell being cast into the lead. The best part was I got to work with her. Reading lines. Developing a film persona. Understanding the story. We became sidekicks. One night when she came over to work, Scottie had invited her for dinner before our work was to start. We had the greatest conversation. Scottie started to really notice her and Sylvia noticed Scottie in return. It made me feel jealous. But of what, I wasn’t sure.

After Scottie left, Sylvia and I went to my study to work. We sat on the settee in front of my desk and read more of the lines. As the words poured out of her mouth, I watched Sylvia’s lips moving but didn’t hear the words. When I was due to respond, I just looked at her. Scottie came into my mind. I saw Scottie kissing her and Sylvia kissing back. My jealousy started to surface and a reaction was building up in me of confusion, attraction, desire, fear and rage. What was I feeling? I don’t remember but Sylvia was suddenly very close to my body. She reached her hand out to touch my face. Somehow her face was only a few inches away. I saw her lips and could feel her hands touching my body. The sensations I began to feel in my veins were the surging of lava as her month gently caressed my opened lips. Was I suppose to respond? I didn’t know what to do. The feelings, I wanted, but were lips suppose to be hers?

My body shifted into a dissociative state. I felt her touches of skin but didn’t know what was happening or what parts of me were being touched. The messages to my brain were telling me my body was having automatic reactions to being touched. The contact with Sylvia was not voluntary. I wanted the sensations but not from her and not in this way. I didn’t know what to do to stop her, until I felt a rage coming up from inside of me.

Without hesitation, a loud voice sounded from within me. The words came out with command but calm. I told Sylvia it was time to stop. I had work to do. Would she please leave. She did. Very simple but also very complicated. That wasn’t the only time moments like this happened. Sylvia would continue her seduction and my feeling raped by a woman. I couldn’t stop her. And I was afraid to tell Scottie. I didn’t think she would understand. I still don’t understand how she understands what happened. I was being molested by a young female actor who was stronger than me at the time. I am still not strong enough for her or people like her. She seduces her way through life to get what she wants. If one way doesn’t work, she will go the down-dirty way.

So, my experience with I.I.Inc.’s virgin film was to be overpowered. Have a major wedge put between me and Scottie because we chose Sylvia Kendall to be in our first solo flight. The film turned out great. It got lots of award noms. Some wins but the nominations were glorious. I have been keeping a scrap book of our hits ever since.

I finally got up the courage to tell Scottie about the whole experience. Scottie told me she knew but wanted to hear it from me. She had always suspected something a bit off about Sylvia and me. And Sylvia’s history since has opened our awareness of just who and what she really is. She was going for both of us but Scottie rejected her. That meant I was to be her target. She hit a bull’s eye with me. I didn’t fight back. I gave her everything but it was never willingly. It was a coercion through brute force.

That is why Scottie knows I won’t betray her with anyone. Physically, emotionally, psychologically and spiritually, I am not capable of having that kind of intimate relationship with anyone. On the physical level, for me, it is impossible. Scottie knows my inabilities with intimacy relate back to my family.

Nothing ended in childhood. The damage doesn’t stay behind. It is with you, haunting you silently with its invisibility. I just continue my battle using different methods of protection.

Now you promise never ever breath this to any other soul.

It is embarrassing to be abused as an adult by another woman. It raises up every kind of shame and irrational thought one can imagine. Feeling crazy is not an uncommon feeling. A familiar closeness to the edge, I feel, of what, I am not sure. The bipolar is enough of a confusion but with the addition of abuse and fearing it, takes energy to maintain one’s stability. But I have you Annie to help me.

I think that is enough truth to reveal.

One last thing, Scottie understands me. She knows me and loves me and I love her beyond time. Life would be nothing without sharing it with her. She knows how I feel but I always hope to reinforce this message with her. Sometimes the reminders find their way into my screenplays. Most things do.

But honestly, I’m a sexually functioning asexual lesbian. Remember This Twister Always! Self-Love Is Good-Love!

“Time for time and traveling with circuses must end. It is time to soar through the time barrier into all moments in the Universe.”

So, until I see you, I will end with my favorite quote from the film “Brief Sacrifice.

“Time can be folded and joined with all elements in all places as the one ultimate moment when time is all at once. In this place everything happens on a continual loop following into a continuum of time forever into infinity. In the “Silver Box,” there is contained the ability to draw time into itself and create the perfect infinite moment.”

For you, I will end this letter in “the moment between seconds.”

Love Fondly,

Madison

@-;—

© madison taylor 2008

hands on body loving

Loving Hands In A Dream

Somewhere In Time – Composer John Barry

painting of a flower light colour lilac

A Blossom of Light Color Lilac

rain in garden gif

Just One More Time
By Madison Taylor
29th July 2008

Just one more time
Say the words
Speak the words together
Create three syllables
So often said
These words
Hold meaning
Carrying magic
In their sound
Let us hear them now
Said in earnest
With full depth
Completing the meaning
Using a voice
Filled
With gentle
Passion
And caring
Let the words
Say it
Speak it
Mean it
The
Three
Words
“I
Love
You”

(c) jKm 2008

© madison taylor 2008

Rock the Soul - Artist Jk McCormack (c) JkM 2008

Caterpillar Come Rock My Soul – Artist Jk McCormack (c) JkM 2008

“A Dream
The beginning always starts out
With a dream.
It is all a dream

In our own nightmares”
— Madison Taylor

Le Chateau de Rocher

Le Chateau de Rocher

play is not just play meryl streep“Pretending is not just play. Pretending is imagined possibility” — Meryl Streep

Medicalmarijuana red cross marijuana leaf black bgMedical Marijuana