THE FAIRIES William Allingham An Irish folklore

I was doing some research on Irish folklore and came upon this charming poem, please enjoy Happy St. Patrick's Day :)

Up the airy mountain,
  Down the rushy glen,
We daren't go a-hunting
  For fear of little men;
Wee folk, good folk,
  Trooping all together;
Green jacket, red cap,
  And white owl's feather!

Down along the rocky shore
  Some make their home,
They live on crispy pancakes
  Of yellow tide-foam;
Some in the reeds
  Of the black mountain lake,
With frogs for their watch-dogs,
  All night awake.
High on the hill-top
  The old King sits;
He is now so old and grey
  He's nigh lost his wits.
With a bridge of white mist
  Columbkill he crosses,
On his stately journeys
  From Slieveleague to Rosses;
Or going up with music
  On cold starry nights,
To sup with the Queen
  Of the gay Northern Lights.
They stole little Bridget
  For seven years long;
When she came down again
  Her friends were all gone.
They took her lightly back,
  Between the night and morrow,
They thought that she was fast asleep,
  But she was dead with sorrow.
They have kept her ever since
  Deep within the lake,
On a bed of flag-leaves,
  Watching till she wake.
By the craggy hill-side,
  Through the mosses bare,
They have planted thorn-trees
  For pleasure here and there. p. 5
Is any man so daring
  As dig them up in spite,
He shall find their sharpest thorns
  In his bed at night.
Up the airy mountain,
  Down the rushy glen,
We daren't go a-hunting
  For fear of little men;
Wee folk, good folk,
  Trooping all together;
Green jacket, red cap,
  And white owl's feather!

My dirty little secret

I have a secret. Not a big secret, nothing deep and dark and earthshaking. But a secret none the less. What might it be? Could it be a secret lover? or maybe a juicy murder? of course not! But its a secret that Im not that proud of but shouldnt be embarrassed of this secret either.


I have an addiction. No I'm not a drunk, or smoke weed. I'm not addicted to drugs and snort white crap up my nose. Its a quiet addiction. An addiction that most ppl dont really notice... or know what to look for in this addiction. What might it be?


I admit it. Im addicted to shopping.  It all started when my Grandma died of brain cancer last summer. I was very close to my grandma. She helped raise me along with my mom and grandpa.  We played dolls together. Went to the store together. She went to  Russia with my mom to adopt me. She was one of my best friends.


Soon after her death it started, nothing big, just 5 dollars here, 6 dollars there.  It was a lot of small things, mostly cheap costume jewelry. like a red queen necklace, or a mad hatter ring. Sometimes credits for a game. But it doesnt matter what I bought. it was never enough. It would give me happiness for a day maybe two days then it got old, and forgotten. Then I wanted to buy more... and more... and more....


It got to the point where i maxed out credit cards, got my mom's accounts blocked. But i still found ways to shop. I went to stores and shopped. Often for things I didnt even need or remember why I wanted it in the first place. It didnt matter. I just needed the feel of something new. 


It was easy to shop at stores because my grandfather gives me a generous allowance every week.


I realized that I needed to stop or I would run my family into debt. It was hard to stop shopping. I still have a hard time. I stopped cold turkey. and it was harder than hell. I wanted an excuse to shop for everything and anything. But everyday I fought to curb my shopping everyday. 


I earn my money now. so now Im learning the meaning of a dollar. Because once my money for that week runs out, thats it, I have to earn it by doing chores around the house, it's not just handed to me anymore. Im also not allowed to shop online, or by myself. I only take a certain amount of money with me everytime I go shopping.


so there's my little dirty secret I'm addicted to shopping.

Im BAAAACCKK!

Hey everyone, or anyone, I'm back. It's been years since I last posted, and a lot of shit has been happening since. But I don't really feel like going into all that. Right now I want to talk about how art school is going. I got accepted into CIA.. Cleveland Institute of Art. I'm in my sophomore year, and I'm majoring in Drawing.

Now some people, ok ok, a lot of people ask me : "what kind of job are you going to get with that major?" and similar comments, questions, etc.

This is what I have to say: I'm not looking for a job, I'm building a career. There's a huge difference between the two. A job isn't a career, it's just something you do to pay the bills, order a pizza, etc, a job can become a career if you become passionate about it. A career is something that you love to do, and you grow in many ways, it's a passion, and the money is a bonus. Its not about the money, while a job is about the money.

I really don't care or would be embarrassed if I lived at home for the rest of my life. I want to wake up everyday and get pumped up about the day and what I do. I don't want to hate getting up and dragging myself to my job.

beyond the winter garmentsof these trees' fleshlay spirits of souls forgotten among the newly birthed December snow,and if you care to join me amongst this winter tale, come with anew hearts o'er flowing withchild's laughter of innocent play.

listen, for softly they whisper forgotten winters' lullabies.

amongst this December night's wind,

They have a story to share for those who wish to hear with gentle hearts thy Lord finds pure.

Step ever so gentle, love, least you abandon the meaning of their stay this Winters eve.

as we walk past their weary refuge of trees left in slumber,thy eyes of Winters children past gleam dance within the icicles that make they winter home among branches.

With silence you can hear the children of past

Winters laughter of innocent charm

throughout the wearied land that lay in awaiting slumber
for the day of peace is at hand.
Their winter tale of love breathes
enchantment throughout the land.
Long a go in a time forgotten by modern man,
these children of forgotten winters
played with hearts of peace and love,
they listened to the stories fearies of snowflakes told,
and laughed as the madien of snow that children's hands gave birth to
danced for them with perfect grace
they sat in mediviel castles of white snow;
though they grew old and wearied by the hand of society
their laughter still rings clear
throughout the snow they chastened
and engraved their childish games of winter charm
within each falling snowflake.
Listen dearest heart of hope, listen for they call out
to bless you with Christ's tidings of joy and love divine.
And if the heart of hardened men bare down on you,
walk with me my love through Winters laughter
and forsake the pain of wars brought by cold hearts
of material lust.
The spirits of winters past
touch your shoulder
though you turn to see their face,
they have gone
but with their stay they give their gift of child's love.
Though this last not forever,
the memories and joy they bring last for eternal.
The children's hands wrap around your arms
though their faces are not seen,
the presences that they leave behind,
we hold and cherish for all time.
Long a go
many years before our eyes saw this earth,
These children share they story
on each winter evening
when hearts of love and hearts of joy
walk throughout the lands of whiten blankets cover,
where children of winters past
once shared a childish game of love and joy,
with in their own world of enchantment
and diamond snow,
where faeries dance throughout.
Though we may go our seperate days,
forget not the day the children of winter past shared their
winter tale of hope and love
of faeries and of snow madiens.
of Medivel castles
a meaning of hope rests in the trees we past.
Walking through winter's enchantment
spirits of thy hollow worlds dance within skys of white enchanment

he never knew my namehe only knew my face,

ANd when the night faded awayhe was gone.

AND all I have left is the confusionand the pain that never goes away,

and My sweet solitude,

comes to find me once again,

sweet solitude of mournful joys

singing it's lullaby of regret in my ear,

Sweet solitude All I ever find is you,

you wrap your cold embrace around my mournful life.

HE said he loved me once,he held me close once,

HE told me stories of tomorrow,

but for me, tomorrow never comes.

But his words of love turn to words of pain,

ANd my sweet solitude,
my refuge of my mournful heart,
Making love to keep me warm.
Sweet solitude,
my romance of darkness,
AS I bleed my sorrows away,
as my flesh becomes my canvas,
sweet solitude ,I love you
and forever you are mine.
My sweet solitude,
come find me again,
take me away like you always do,
my soul lies dead among thorns,
just like his love for me is dead and gone
And over time he will forget me,
though he swears I'll be in his memory
I know that he has already forgotten me..
AND I'll escape now from this world,
this world that never was and never will be.
and return to me sweet solitude,
I'm sorry I ever left you,
my sweet, gentle, loving Solitude.
ANd when all was said and done,
I'll never have arms to hold me.
BEcause I am sweet solitude's.
Return to me
sweet refugee,
I am everything,
I am only the pain I feel,
I am anything but real,
I am nothing.
I love you sweet solitude.
Don't leave me, alone .
I can not breathe with out you,
my gentle solitude.
AND when the night comes,
return to me sweet solitude,
I am nothing with out you.
Please be forever here,
you who chase away my fear.
You who dry my tears that I;ve shed,
you who love me even if I'm dead.
I love you,
don't leave me alone sweet solitude.
ANd when all is said and done,
you who lingers in the shadows of night,
returning to me,
I pray of your forgivness,
sweet gentle solitude.
I never meant to harm you.
I will never leave you sweet solitude.
WE were always meant to be,
you and me,
I need you sweet solitude

25 fun thinga to do in an elevator

Ok I was once stuck in an elevator and somehow today i started thinking about random things one can do in an elevator:
1. When there's only one other person in the elevator, tap them on the shoulder and then pretend it wasn't you.
2. Push the buttons and pretend they give you a shock. Smile, and go back for more.
3. Ask if you can push the button for other people, but push the wrong ones.
4. Call the Psychic Hotline from your cell phone and ask if they know what floor your on.
5. Hold the doors open and say your waiting for a friend. After a while, let the doors close, and say, "Hi Greg. How's your day been?"
6. Drop a pen and wait until someone goes to pick it up, then scream, "That's mine!"
7. Bring a camera and take pictures of everyone in the elevator.
8. Move your desk into the elevator and whenever anyone gets on, ask if they have an appointment.
9. Lay down the twister mat and ask people if they would like to play.
10. Leave a box in the corner, and when someone gets on, ask them if they can hear ticking.
11. Pretend you are a flight attendant and review emergency procedures and exits with the passengers.
12. Ask, "Did you feel that?"
13. Stand really close to someone, sniffing them occasionally.
14. When the doors close, announce to the others, "It's okay, don't panic, they open again!"
15. Swat at flies that don't exist.
16. Tell people that you can see their aura.
17. Call out, "Group Hug!" and then enforce it.
18. Grimace painfully while smacking your forehead and muttering, "Shut up, all of you, just shut up!" (now that's fun)
19. Crack open your briefcase or purse, and while peering inside, ask, "Got enough air in there?"
20. Stand silently and motionless in the corner, facing the wall, without getting off.
21. Stare at another passenger for a while, then announce in horror, "Your one of THEM!" and back away slowly.
22. Wear a puppet on your hand and use it to talk to the other passengers.
23. Listen to the elevator walls with your stethoscope.
24. Make explosion noises when anyone presses a button.
25. Stare, grinning for a long time and then announce somthing random like "im wearing new socks!!"Hope you enjoy! ( now go out there with tighty whitieas or a pair of boxers on your head and have some creepy yet funny fun)

The Cat Who Healed My Spirit.

It has become fairly common knowledge that cats are great therapy for nursing home residents, and it is a joy to see eyes light up when a cat is brought in by a visitor. Even more fortunate are those patients of health care facilities who have a cat in residence. Try petting your kitty when you are stressed from the activities of an unusually busy day. You'll find those tense shoulder and neck muscles relaxing, your heart rate slowing, and an intense feeling of pleasure flowing through your entire body, as all those stresses flow out and relaxation flows in. Those are the benefits of therapy cats to nursing home residents and health care facilities, and they can be equally applied to the rest of us. Therapy cats are especially valuable when interacting with Alzheimer patients, by stimulating both memory and forgotten emotions. Cats are also very helpful for patients with seizure and emotional disorders. They can sense a seizure coming on, and can sense if their owner is sad, stressed, or even suicidal. they use their 'kitty' powers to help relax the owner to a safe state of mind and body. Ways that they do this is by purring, rubbing up against their owner and wanting to play. the purr of a cat is extremely helpful and calming to a patient. ( there's a little background information for you, so I can continue my story without you, the unknown reader, being extremely confused.)
I am lucky to have my own little therapy cat. He wasn't adopted for being a therapy pet, but as a friend for me. We went to an animal shelter one hot early hot July day to finally get a kitten for me since i was pestering my mom for one for years. We walked in and Our jaws dropped to the ground because of all the homeless cats all looking for a home....any home. this was a shelter that gassed the 'unwanted' cats. ( the cats were labeled 'unwanted' after three weeks in this shelter) we took our time looking for the 'right' kitty for me. I picked up hundreds of kittens, and cats, all wanting to go home with me, my mom had her own hands filled with her share of kittens and cats. I just wanted to take them all home with me, save them from this kind of life. to Save them from death. but I could only have one. So after hours of looking into the soulful eyes of so many cats, i stumbled upon a black and white young cat. He was severely under weight. I looked at his papers... he had three different homes that all brought him back. and by the date that the last owner brought him in....he didn't have long to live. I scooped this lonely cat into my arms and instantly I knew. this funny little cat was my cat. My mom was more into a grey kitten. but I wanted this cat. when my mom picked him up, he flopped all over in her arms, making my mom ask "is this cat sick?", the answer was no, it was not sick, it really liked us. that was it. We adopted him right away. My grandmother wasn't too happy to have a cat in my mom's house. She would even tease the cat by making funny faces causing the cat to race up to my room. we named the cat taffy. My grandmother was the one who named him. It was a happy relationship. A cat who needed love, and a girl who had so much love to give.
Then my depression hit in the 8th grade. I was suicidal, cutting, and extremely depressed. taffy sensed it right away and would stop what he was doing and jump into my lap purring like crazy. it helped me a lot. he knew when I was in the clinic for being suicidal, and he wouldn't eat until I came home. And when my mom was crying because I was in the hospital, taffy would do something he never did with anyone but me.....he hopped into my mom's arms and wouldn't leave until my mom stopped crying. I got over my depression half a year later. the bond between me and taffy grew even stronger until he was known as MY cat.
Two to three years passed, Cat and girl couldn't be any happier. until i got into a very bad relationship where i was severely abused and forced to perform sex acts. A few months later he raped me to knife point, and threatened that if I told anyone, I would become another orphan. He told me every detail to what he would do to my family if I ever told. I kept it my secret. but Taffy could see right through me, I started cutting again, and became addicted to it. Taffy would rub up against me and my scarred up arms purring....as if to tell me "everything will be okay."
I finally broke down and was admitted to the hospital for suicidal idealation. But I kept my secret for another half a year. In and out of the hospital I went. taffy always helping me deal with life when I was home. Finally i told someone that I was raped by my ex-boyfriend. I finally began to heal. I never reported him to the police in fear for my family. ( which turned out OK, he was imprisoned for raping another girl who DID press charges.)
My family and friends were there to support me as I slowly healed from the trauma. Especially Taffy. he was always there for me, purring me to sleep at night, sleeping on top of my head. it was very comforting. Around the same time, I began having seizures. Taffy began to get used to this new adjustment and soon tried to help me deal with it. Every time He sensed a seizure coming on he would howl and rub against my leg.
Taffy was and is more than a pet to me. He is my best friend and my therapy cat. He helps me when I'm depressed. he can make me laugh with his funny habits.....such as stealing jewlery and putting it into a little pile in the attic of my doll house. everytime he hops, I know he stole something else shiny. He has had various items in his little pile.....such as hanger handles, pins, paper clips, earrings, bracklets, necklaces, even shiny cloth, shiny doll shoes from glass dolls, even my mom's car keys!!!!
Taffy has helped me heal through the hard times just as much as my family and doctors did. He is the best cat that anyone could have. Even after adopting a sheltie, and another cat, and a rabbit, Taffy remains my favorite. I love Taffy because he is the cat that healed my Spirit.