So, as is well known, I have this thing about hope. Hope, like most things in life is give and take. When and where to do the former and the latter, respectively is a very delicate balance. Plato said that given the option when choosing two evils, a sane man would choose the lesser. To me, having hope is the lesser. Had hope been afforded by all, disease would be eradicated, space understood, lives saved, art created. When hope is lost, so too are the gifts it brings. I would truly love to see Kurt Cobain in some small venue, stage, stool, mic stand, guitar on his lap, today. 
Many authors write about hope because we are the dreamers, the believers. Even in his booze-soaked despair, Hemingway believed. And Virginia Woolf, before the stones wrote of her hope that one day her long hidden characters would come to fruition, while Sylvia Plath hopes for peace on the other side. Emily Dickinson defined hope best as "the tune with no words that never stops at all". Unrelenting. I like my hope served up this way, because I always felt warmer in the company of better things to come. I like to have the kind of hope that doctors call me crazy for,  you know, hope that the "unfix-able" can be fixed. Remember when homosexuality was a personality disorder and a woman feeling amorous was considered "hysterical"?
All things living, and many things not for that matter, like the United States Constitution, are evolutionary. While change isn't always desired, it's inevitable. With empirical, historical proof of evolution, including the understanding of the human mind, why wouldn't I place my bet on hope?
As an avid reader, I espouse tons of hope; even when I already know the ending. Funny thing about hope in writing? It's the same practice. I have hope that my antagonist will finally amass some monochrome of redeeming virtue all the way to up to the end of the story. 
It makes sense to me, now, as to why hope is such a big thing for me and I am not alone...

-Deannalynn Arzola

A Review, by Deannalynn Arzola

Edgar Allan Poe was forced to sustain his and Virginia's life by critiquing some of his oldest and dearest friends. He positively loathed doing so, the evidence empirical in the correspondence between he and his writer friends. Elizabeth Barrett Browning quite eloquently wrote to him in a letter saved by The Poe Society, that she completely understood that Eddie was simply doing what he had to and thank heavens he was working in an environment in which he could write. I totally relate to his ambivalence, and while I have been paid to critique other writers' words, I would much rather be on the receiving end of that deal.
I did, however, read a book yesterday that I simply must discuss. "The Killer Inside Me" by Jim Thompson is a Texas crime noir novel set in 1950's West Texas. It is 231 pages; I read it in five hours. I cannot remember the last time I actually finished an entire book in one sitting. This is one of the best books I have ever read. The words did not just flow off the pages, one after another, those words, each and every one compelling me to read the next. As I was reading, I almost could not feel that the story was written in three acts. The structure of a story is always highly important to me as a reader and as a writer, however, I don't mind several different styles. In fact, some sentences tell an entire story, and a play in one act can be quite enthralling. It wasn't until I actually got to the third act, the wrap up, that I came to see the story in it's three act structure. 
The third act is where a lot of authors blow it. They may have, and usually do, as one can gather simply by watching a DVD that has alternative endings ("Hide and Seek" comes to mind) have a couple of endings in mind. Even writers like to be surprised by a good ending. Several endings, however, and a NEED to tie it all together can result in endings that seem hurried or in-concise. Thomson, however, continues through the third act of his story with the same chilling first person account, never changing his protagonist's dialogue, introspection or behavior. Words that do flow, as do Thompson's,  just make for a much easier read.
What stunned me even more than the prose and structure of the story; more fascinating than the way the story is told, is the protagonist. His name is Lou. If you want to read this book yourself, then, by all means, go to Amazon.com and buy it, because I am about to dissect this character voraciously and thoroughly.
Lou is a twenty-nine year old sheriff's deputy in small West Texas town, population- 50,000. His father, now deceased, was the town doctor, in a town where everybody knows everybody, and the population has grown with him. Lou was born in 1923, when the town could only brag a population of 5,000. Lou's father kept a very tight grip on his son, as Dr. Ford's specialty is psychiatry, and the old doc sees the characteristic traits of a sociopath in his son at a very early age. In an attempt to assist the so-called mental healing process along, Dr. Ford adopts a foster boy, about Lou's age (three and four, respectively). In the meantime, Lou bonds with their housekeeper, a seeming replacement for his deceased mother, and is betrayed by her when she begins molesting him. When Lou is a teen, however, his demons begin to take shape and he rapes and kills a three year old girl in the family barn. As the foster brother is a slight bit younger, he takes the rap and goes to juvenile hall. Knowing it is his son who perpetrated the crime, Dr. Ford never lets Lou out of his sight.
Why is Lou sociopathic? Number one, Lou lost his mother in infancy. He had no one with whom to bond. Number two, his father was a caring and nurturing doctor, leaving Lou to appreciate that he himself was not nurtured, while at the same time, his father's patients were. Number three, Lou was molested by the family maid; an ending that only came about when Lou and the maid were discovered in the act (of the abuse). She was promptly fired; Lou was chastised and blamed for the "incident". Number four, an outsider was brought into the fold of a man who never gave Lou the patriarchal love he so greatly desired. We, the reader are unaware of the reasoning behind the loss of the mother, however, one could certainly interpret she committed suicide, or was, on some level having an organic personality disorder. Nature, however, in Lou's case, we just don't know. I suppose Mr. Thompson left the interpretation to the reader for the sake of being a crime writer. A little mystery is definitely in order in crime writing, and Thompson provides it in spades.
Lou has quieted his demons over the past fifteen years and has become somewhat of the town's prince charming. Thompson reminds us that Lou is a sociopath by the way he is received by the townsfolk versus his own dialogue when alone. It is all an act, and, apparently a pretty good one, however, Lou's detractors, and there really are only two, advise him that he is spreading it on too thick; a lovely little nod to Shakespeare's Hamlet, I thought. As Lou is now twenty-nine, we find him in a long-term relationship with the girl next door, and she is smitten; has been her entire life. She is almost thirty, still lives with her parents, is in love with the only man she's ever been with. (She also looks eerily like the former maid, as does one of Lou's other victims, an observation he himself makes, "I was killing HER, over and over...") The two sides of the coin with Lou's spellbound lover is that she knows deep within that Lou is a liar and a cheat, however, she is charmed beyond understanding and addicted to him (or her illusion of him, if you will), even when he literally blames her for putting him in a mood when she confronts him with a lie. Lou is actually such an apathetic asshole the he beats her to death in his kitchen with his fists on the night they are to be wed.
Mr. Thompson again reminds us what sociopath his narrator is when Lou says in first person, "I could feel a hand touching my boot, I tried to kick it away, yet it just clung harder. I dragged that hand three feet before it finally let go.", in regards to his girl taking too long to die before his fall guy is to arrive, unbeknownst. Thompson's portrayal of Lou as a sociopath is spot on, on every level. I read this book, yesterday, because a writer should always read, and I learn a plethora of information from my favorite authors, as I did with, well, I should say, I was confirmed in my own understanding of sociopathy with Thompson's Lou Ford. I am currently writing my own crime story/love story (a woman asked me today if my novel was a love story, "Why, yes, in fact it is, it's about a woman who is in love with a serial killer, it truly IS about their relationship...", needless to say, she was a bit perplexed), and I needed a break and this book is on my list of books to read when writing my character, my antagonist, my serial killer. I am also able to draw from the well of personal experience, and while the folks I know who exhibit the characteristics of a sociopath do not kill people for the fun of it or for any other matter, I presume, I will say that they do exhibit the behavior Lou exhibits. They wear a mask, the are the best actors, they are wounded and use that pain to get what they want, they are addictive lovers, they are beguiling and compelling, they are not familiar with empathy and that is a hard emotion for them to pretend to have so they cause allot of pain for their loved ones that they don't even realize they are hurting, they are unable to sit still, they are brilliant, they can lie on a dime, they are passionate, they are well versed in just about everything, they say what they know wants to be heard, and they do that because that is how they show their affection for you and everybody loves 'em. Thompson told us how a sociopath feels. For god's sake, if that isn't something even a sociopath can't do.
My curtsy to Jim Thompson, who for if no other reason than to enlighten us to the mind of a killer, deserves to be honored. Read this book. It will haunt you with the whispers of darkness and you will enjoy the haunting. 

p.s.
Kubrick was right! 

*just a little book report on "The Killer Inside Me" by Jim Thompson, 
by Deannalynn Arzola

My darling readers,
I do apologize for my lack of original content as of late; I've been working furiously on my novel, with only intermittent momentary breaks for research or respite. Perhaps I'll share an excerpt later today. In the meantime, this came to me on Facebook. I love my Scorpios. It's true about them seeking friends and lovers with infinite light in their soul for the very reason of the help offered by the "white-lighter" to the Scorpio. For I seek friends and lovers who shine light on my darkness. It has always been the perfect fit for me (and my Scorpios) since I was a very little girl. It's an attraction that never fails. Out in a restaurant, a person will come sit down beside me, in my booth, no less, and strike up a conversation. I always ask them their birthday and it's always between October 23 and November 21. My beloved is a Scorpio and my reasons for loving him so completely definitely include the qualities in this image, but it is mostly that we are opposites and we show one another the illumination in the another, be that dark or light. I am so thankful for my Scorpios for helping me see who I really am, what I have become and never, ever judging me for it. It makes me more comfortable in their presence than that of any other sign. It allows me to breath and remove the mask. It's interesting that Scorpios draw people to them for those same reasons, while at the same time doing those things for their people. In any event, I love mine!
-Deannalynn Arzola
#ScorpioAddict

Are you fucking kidding me??? (as I sit here, at my desk and write my novel...as I sit)

                                                                   "One And Only"

You've been on my mind
I grow fonder every day,
Lose myself in time
Just thinking of your face
God only knows
Why it's taken me so long
To let my doubts go
You're the only one that I want

I don't know why I'm scared, I've been here before
Every feeling, every word, I've imagined it all,
You never know if you never try
To forgive your past and simply be mine

I dare you to let me be your, your one and only
Promise I'm worthy to hold in your arms
So come on and give me the chance
To prove that I'm the one who can
Walk that mile until the end starts

If I've been on your mind
You hang on every word I say
Lose yourself in time at the mention of my name
Will I ever know how it feels to hold you close?
And have you tell me whichever road I choose you'll go

I don't know why I'm scared 'cause I've been here before
Every feeling, every word, I've imagined it all,
You'll never know if you never try
To forgive your past and simply be mine

I dare you to let me be your, your one and only
I promise I'm worthy to hold in your arms
So come on and give me the chance
To prove that I'm the one who can
Walk that mile until the end starts

I know it ain't easy, giving up your heart
I Know it ain't easy, giving up your heart

(Nobody's perfect, trust me I've learned it)
I know it ain't easy, giving up your heart
(Nobody's perfect, trust me I've learned it)
I know it ain't easy, giving up your heart
(Nobody's perfect, trust me I've learned it)
I know it ain't easy, giving up your heart
(Nobody's perfect, trust me I've learned it)
I know it ain't easy, giving up your heart

So I dare you to let me be your, your one and only
I promise I'm worthy to hold in your arms
So come on and give me a chance
To prove that I'm the one who can
Walk that mile until the end starts
Come on and give me a chance
To prove that I'm the one who can
Walk that mile until the end starts.

-Adele

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8glDy7OsHNs

From "The Scarlet Letter"

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

*One of the most awesome sentences ever written;

From "On the Road"

In Love With an Illusion (The cause and effect of sociopathy): *As always, thank you to the aurhorDECEMBER 10, 2...

In Love With an Illusion (The cause and effect of sociopathy): *As always, thank you to the aurhor DECEMBER 10, 2...: *As always, thank you to the aurhor DECEMBER 10, 2013  by   DR. NIMA SHEI 10 Signs of Borderline Personality Disorder 10 Signs of Bor...

In Love With an Illusion (The cause and effect of sociopathy): An amazing plea from the soul of a person with Bor...

In Love With an Illusion (The cause and effect of sociopathy): An amazing plea from the soul of a person with Bor...: An amazing plea from the soul of a person with Borderline Personality Disorder: #HearOurCry -Deannalynn Arzola *Thanks to the author

                                             

                                             "I'm Only Me When I'm With You"

Friday night beneath the stars,
in a field behind your yard,
you and I are paintin' pictures in the sky.
And sometimes we don't say a thing;
just listen to the crickets sing.
Everything I need is right here by my side.
And I know everything about you
I don't wanna live without you.

I'm only up when you're not down.
Don't wanna fly if you're still on the ground.
It's like no matter what I do.
Well you drive me crazy half the time;
the other half I'm only trying to let you know that what I feel is true.
And I'm only me when I'm with you.

Just a small town boy and girl
livin' in a crazy world.
Tryin' to figure out what is and isn't true.
And I don't try to hide my tears.
The secrets or my deepest fears.
Through it all nobody gets me like you do.
And you know everything about me.
You say that you can't live without me.

When I'm with anybody else it's so hard to be myself.
Only you can tell.

That I'm only up when you're not down.
Don't wanna fly if you're still on the ground.
It's like no matter what I do.
Well you drive me crazy half the time;
the other half I'm only trying to let you know that what I feel is true.
And I'm only me
Who I wanna be
Well, I'm only me when I'm with you
With you
Uh huh
Yeah

-Taylor Swift

                                                     

Oh no, did I get too close?
Oh, did I almost see what's really on the inside?
All your insecurities
All the dirty laundry
Never made me blink one time

Unconditional, unconditionally
I will love you unconditionally
There is no fear now
Let go and just be free
I will love you unconditionally

Come just as you are to me
Don't need apologies
Know that you are worthy
I'll take your bad days with your good
Walk through the storm I would
I do it all because I love you, I love you

Unconditional, unconditionally
I will love you unconditionally
There is no fear now
Let go and just be free
I will love you unconditionally

So open up your heart and just let it begin
Open up your heart and just let it begin
Open up your heart and just let it begin
Open up your heart

Acceptance is the key to be
To be truly free
Will you do the same for me?

Unconditional, unconditionally
I will love you unconditionally
And there is no fear now
Let go and just be free
'Cause I will love you unconditionally (oh yeah)
I will love you (unconditionally)
I will love you
I will love you unconditionally

Words and music by Katy Perry

*Love you, unconditionally, dearest!

Do the blind at birth miss the beauty  of a sunset? Do the blind at 60?

Do the deaf at birth miss the incessant chirp of a bird? Is the  thirty year old annoyed to hear it's  wakening sound?

Is it better to have loved and lost,  than never to have loved at all?

Loss of what is precious is subjective.



What others find precious is our  perception.
Coming together in the two observations is magic...

-Deannalynn Arzola

Tarot reading January 20, 2015
Past, Present, Future:

Past: 10 Wands (R)
 Difficulty, dishonesty, hiding from the  truth.
Present: Wheel of Fortune
 Positive, needed change, Karma, roll  with the changes, think positively.
Future: Lovers (R)
 Powerfully positive omen, especially in  regards to love, trust intuition, self esteem and self care are critical.

*Confirmation...
Blessed be, us...
DeAnna

	deanna lynn arzola:
	Welcome to Your Daily Forecast for Jan 21, 2015 by: Kim Rogers-Gallagher
		Your Birth Date: 01/08/1966	Click Here!

Walking on Sunshine Venus Trine Jupiter January 21, 2015 to January 23, 2015 Feel like there's someone standing right behind you, guiding you in all your endeavors? You're right. He or she is what's known as a guardian angel, and this is only a cameo appearance -- so make it good. Pretend Santa's just called, wanting to know your shoe size.

Love Venus Trine Jupiter January 21, 2015 to January 23, 2015 It's definitely time to say I Do -- or I Do, too -- whether it's about marriage, cohabitation or just a declaration of affection. You can relax, too. This is no fleeting thing.

Energy Venus Trine Jupiter January 21, 2015 to January 23, 2015 You won't be in the mood to work -- not at all -- and there's no reason to force yourself. Nothing except that small, inconsequential problem of where the money comes from. *Today is January 20, 2015. A new moon is in Aquarius tonight and is a Super Moon. Aquarius is ruled by Saturn (hard work and perseverance) and Uranus (surprise and magic). As a new moon, it is lunar event that supports new beginnings, as a Super Moon, it is closest to us, here on earth. In my chart, Aquarius is very prominent. It is in my Venus, Mars and Lilith (love and beauty, sexuality, and magnetism, experimentation and nontraditional love), and in both my 7th and 8th houses (one on one relationships and transformation, respectively). Last night, I broke up with a man I've been seeing, who's behavior has been detrimental to who and what I am. I also did so, because it has occurred to me that I have never actually been in love before. Until now. And not with him. Being in love with my beloved has inspired the greatest evolution within my soul, my heart and my character. He has inspired my creativity and my desire to understand not only him, but myself and my past. This man, my beloved, deserves far more than I have given to him, and of all the people I have known in my life, he is the person I most want to be completely loyal to in every way. Tomorrow, January 21, 2015 is the 40th anniversary of my mother's death. I have obviously been thinking about this date and her for awhile now, as the date has loomed. I love my mother more than I have ever loved anyone in my life. She is the beautiful mess that I have become and she has shaped me in ways that only a mother can. I have loved the illusion of her for so long that I sometimes forget that she killed herself and conscientiously made a choice to abandon me. She did, however, and it has made me who I am today. So under this new moon, I will close that door, and honor her, as I do every time I speak my daughter's name, by remembering that the most important thing I learned from my mother is hope. She felt she had none. She felt no one had any in her. I did. Behavior, personality, health is all evolutionary. Her husband walked away from her right before they coined the phrase of her madness, "Bi-Polar". There became knowledge, therapy, treatment. Hope is a beautiful thing. Don't let anyone tell you different. Hope and faith are the cornerstones of life. Tools we use to get through the day. You'd be surprised how many of those wishes actually come true, if you just believe. Blessed new moon, Deannalynn

An Introspective Aquarius New Moon Posted on January 17, 2015 in Configurations |  By Henry Seltzer for Astrograph Astrology

New Moon - January 20, 2015 Tuesday morning's New Moon in the very first degree of Aquarius is a very interesting lunation, unique in my memory, because it is accompanied by a retrograde of Mercury that lasts throughout the ensuing cycle, when you take the period of the retrograde shadow into account. Mercury stations the very next day, early on Wednesday morning, so that even at the timing of the New Moon things will be lively in the way of missed connections, mechanical breakdown and all the usual symptoms of theMercury Retrograde period. We have all the rush of energy that accompanies any New Moon, especially strong in the very first degree of its sign, in combination with the introspective feel of mentally oriented Mercury moving backwards. Those withMercury retrograde in their natal charts are less affected, although most of us will feel the subtle pull of these two antithetical cosmic pulses. As this year lets us know, and as every year at this time reminds us, we are drawing ever closer to a valid Aquarian Age realization that we are all on this planet together, every ethnicity and every philosophical stance, occupying the tiny lifeboat we call the Earth. This is the undoubted subject matter of much of our deeper reflection at this time, as we move ahead with a practical and yet contemplative stance drawn from the inside of our minds and hearts. Mercury stations in opposition to expansive Jupiter, standing alone in half the sky, and therefore greatly emphasized in this New Moon configuration. Jupiter is in turn precisely bi-quintile to the radically transformative energies of Pluto in Capricorn, the sign that Pluto has occupied since 2008 when the banking system stumbled worldwide, causing the most significant financial crisis since the 1930s. Of course, we are also in the midst of a time when Uranus, the visionary ruler of both the New Moon and Mercury, remains in square with Pluto, signaling further evolutionary change at an individual as well as on a collective level. The square remains less than a degree away from exact for the entire next month of the retrograde period. We might want to reflect on where we in our own lives could indeed make an important difference, a contribution that, while it will not single-handedly save the world, might at least represent movement in the right direction. Jupiter in Leo can symbolize runaway ego or self-aggrandizement, and yet in its higher octave, Leo becomes the selfless attainment of mastery, the symbol of a vital connection to humanity wherein everyone contributes by putting his or her shoulder to the plow. We are all of us struggling to come to such a vision for ourselves and for our world as we move into a century that will demand from us all that we have to give, in a truly individual way that yet allows our global society to flourish. Our collective growth in understanding makes this concept a distinct possibility, a potential that exists in imagination and that must yet be realized in terms of concrete action in alignment with our highest goals for our Self. The Sabian Symbol for this New Moon in the first degree of Aquarius offers a reassuring emblem for stability. It is "An old adobe mission," a California symbol for continuity of social structure and for carrying our institutions forward into the future. Marc Edmund Jones relates this to "effective breadth of vision and a respect-compelling depth of character." Nearly simultaneously, the Sabian Symbol for the degree where Mercury stations the next morning, the eighteenth degree of Aquarius, has also something to tell us, being "A man unmasked." The lesson here might be that it is only by seeing past the surface persona of your personality, and thus exploring your deeper self, that you truly come into your own self-hood in an evolutionarily expanded way, leading you toward a future that you can actually live with; and for.

   

                                                         

 -words and music by Sarah McLachlan

Hey your glass is empty
it's a hell of a long way home
why don't you let me take you
it's no good to go alone
I never would have opened up
but you seemed so real to me
after all the bullshit I've heard
it's refreshing not to see
I don't have to pretend
she doesn't expect it from me
Don't tell me I haven't been good to you
don't tell me I have never been there for you
don't tell me why
nothing is good enough
Hey little girl would you like some candy
your momma said that it's OK
The door is open come on outside
no I can't come out today
it's not the wind that cracked your shoulder
and threw you to the ground
who's there that makes you so afraid
you're shaken to the bone
and I don't understand
you deserve so much more than this
So don't tell me why
he's never been good to you
don't tell me why
he's never been there for you
don't you know that why
is simply not good enough
so just let me try
and I will be good to you
just let me try
and I will be there for you
I'll show you why
you're so much more than good enough...

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WOs7mnMoVf4

Compelling

adjective:
enthralling, spellbinding, mesmerizing, irresistible, captivating
*Not able to be refuted
*Inspiring conviction
*Not able to be resisted
*evoking interest, attention, or admiration in a powerfully irresistible way
noun:
compelled: a feeling that you must do something

I came across this word, compelling, the other day while reading an article. It's such a strong, definitive word. I've often heard the word in a legal context, such as, "The evidence was quite compelling", but I've never really thought about it in a personal way. Something made (compelled) me to seek out the true definition. Let me just say that I do not care how compelling one's evidence is, this word should be banned from that context. Your evidence is gripping and plausible. It is not, however compelling. This word is reserved for the very definition and the ancillary synonyms noted above. And, yes, the definition comes straight out of Merriam-Webster.
Lets put "compelling" in a more human context:
HE is irresistible. HE evokes interest, attention and admiration in a powerfully irresistible way. HE inspires conviction. HE is unable to be refuted. HE is enthralling. HE is spellbinding. HE is mesmerizing. HE is captivating.
I am always searching for the perfect word. I'm one of those people who compartmentalizes everyone and everything, so I like to define the things in my life, individually. Words are evolutionary. In the beginning, he was "mysterious". In the middle, he was "beguiling". With every moment spent in his presence, I know him a little bit more. I can go back almost two years now and find the written words in which I said, "The more I know you, the more I love you." So, now the word is "compelling".
And me, I am "compelled". The feeling that I must do something never leaves me. A little more about me; I believe in fate and destiny. I am not one to carry the feeling that I must do something. And what's funny about me finding myself compelled, other than the fact that I almost never "must do" anything, is that when I met this compelling man, I envisioned a time table that consisted of four years. I knew he would be worth it. I knew it would always be forever. I didn't really worry about the four year plan. I could see our light at the end of that path. I don't want to feel like I "must do something", but I do. I am compelled to write. I am compelled to talk to him. I am compelled to see him. I am compelled to touch him, feel him, hold him wickedly tight. I am compelled to wall myself up with everyone else because when it comes to kissing, I am compelled to kiss only him. I am compelled to learn everything about him. I am compelled to find myself lost in him because he is the other half of me. He is me. I am compelled to love him. I am compelled to love myself because of him. I am compelled to play with his fire, to study the colour in the flames. I am compelled to be an academy award winning screenwriter, just so I can see him in the seats, amongst the stars. I am compelled to accept what remains. That is what remains from both of us.
I have loved and hated, lived and died, won and lost. I believe I have experienced just about every emotion on my path. I have been able to love a few souls. It's not an easy emotion for me and I almost always handle it badly. That's my perception, anyway. And that is perhaps why only a few. I have very high, thick walls. Not very many souls are able to knock those walls down. However, when I do let you in, it's forever. And it's the real deal. I love my daughter. I love my dog, Bubby. I love Joshua. I love my mother. Love. I guess for me, love is the other souls in my life are giving me what I am giving them. What I mean by that is that they love me not just in spite of my occasional madness, but because of it. They radiate a physical energy. It is warm and soft. When my dog was alive, I would lie on my bed and call him to me. He would be lying on his side, my head and his head at equal positions on the pillow, right up next to me and we would sleep like that all night. We just laid there and loved each other. I miss him all the time. I miss nuzzling my face in his big, fluffy neck. Unbelievable love. My Joshua. He and I have a very special bond. We understand one another empirically and we both know that, so we use that. One night, in my daughter's home, I was lying on the couch, crying softly. Joshua came down stairs, said nothing and just laid on top of me, silently, soul to soul. Love, radiated. He brought me home to my daughter while he was still in her womb. He and Bubby were soul mates, as well. My daughter literally saved my life. When you give birth to another human being, and you see her come out of you, and grow up, everyday, well, it is a love that is a blessing. I'm just really lucky I have a daughter who will take the time to understand me so that she can accept me the way I am. A blessing. I love my mother most and here's why; I had nine beautiful, amazing years with a woman who is a spiritual empath. Before the rest of the world destroyed the little girl, my mother showed me what love is. If not for those nine years, I can assure you, things would have turned out very different for me. My mother taught me what love is. Thank god for that, because once she was gone, so, too, was the love. That little nine year bundle I lived in with my mother saved the lives of at least two people. William and Priscilla should be on their knees, every night, praising my mother's life. Every time I'm in my lovely consecrated bedroom, and not in some drab, depressing jail cell, I thank my mother...
The other day, this man who compels me so, was talking about being in love. Bingo. Different. Being in love is different than loving someone. He said he left his wife because he wasn't in love with her any longer. She was hurt by this, but he said he didn't want to cheat on her and, "That's what you do when you're not in love..." He's actually quite right about this. In fact, I put this theory to the test recently, as I do. I spent several days holed up in bed with a man I am not in love with. I am really sorry to say this, but when you are in love with someone who is "compelling", everything else is nothing. Here's what I learned from my most recent human experiment: first of all, the more one pulls away from another, the more the other desires you. That was not the result I was seeking, for my own enjoyment, anyway. Secondly, I felt I could not kiss him. Three days in bed. No kisses. Again, sorry, but that just does not work for me. I'm a kisser. Always have been. In fact, amazing kissing is a pre-requisite. If you don't pass the kiss test, you're outta the game. Here's a little secret; we went out one of those nights and there was a cute boy, a little younger than me, I sent the aforementioned to the store to get me a pack of smokes, and promptly grabbed this boy, slammed him up against the wall and kissed him. Hard! I so wanted, needed a kiss and could not kiss my man that I kissed a stranger...Thirdly, the more time I spent in his presence, the more I began to detest him. I thought about this man I am so compelled to love the entire time. We were communicating, throughout. When I finally came home and entered my consecrated bedroom (and I refer to my room this way because when I first moved in, I asked him to come make love to me in my room. This is HIS room. The other does not visit with me, here.), I shook off the last few days and I called my beloved.
I realized that when you are in love with someone, you don't want to be with anybody else. I have never been in love before. Here's what "in love" feels like to me:

1. *evoking interest, attention, or admiration in a powerfully irresistible way.

   "his eyes were strangely compelling"

   "a compelling performance"

   • not able to be refuted; inspiring conviction.

     "compelling evidence"

     "a compelling argument"

     not able to be resisted; overwhelming.

     "the temptation to give up was compelling"
   • : very interesting : able to capture and hold your attention

     : capable of causing someone to believe or agree

     : strong and forceful : causing you to feel that you must do something

   I am compelled...

   • 
     

-by Deannalynn Arzola

"Behavior is the mirror in which everyone shows their true image"

-Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

*Mirror, Mirror on the wall, who's my greatest love of all?

-DeAnna Arzola

What

All this practicing has almost erased me completely

A memory

And a small sliver

I am still here

I love this piece

The who, not what

You are still here

I love this piece

The who

And what

-by Deannalynn Arzola

In regards to being in love with an illusion...

I have been in love with an illusion for about forty years. Here is my beautiful illusion;
She is small in stature and confidence. She is wounded, yet determined. Her hair is chestnut and it smells like apples and cloves. Her skin is soft and olive in colour. Her bosom is large and comforting. Occasionally, she allows me to rest my tiny curly-blonde-hair- covered head upon her chest. She shines like the sun and she cries like the rain. She is an amazing hostess and an accomplished chef, bestowing upon me both of these gifts. My favorite line in literature to describe my beautiful illusion is, "She walks in beauty, like the night..." She has shared with me the music that currently fills my soul and my head. She taught me how to read. One of the greatest gifts she gave me, as it is still an escape from my cruel reality...words. The most important and difficult gift my magical illusion gave to me is empathy. For me, it wasn't natural. It was a learned behaviour, gained from watching her and her magnetism with strays and her devastation when she caused the death of another creature (she cried for two days after hitting a pheasant while driving down a country road). This empathy has perhaps saved me from true sociopathy, which has allowed me to make the connections I have needed to make to survive. And when I lost her, it was not her fault. She was sick and she did it FOR me. She loved me so much, she died for me. This is my beautiful illusion.
Experts in the field of personality disorders suggest that if one is in love with an illusion, there is most certainly something wrong with them. Suggesting that being in love with something that is not real is a personality disorder, requiring therapy, and dopamine enhancing drugs, and tools to move forward from this. In fact, some of them might suggest that this behaviour is in fact delusional. 
Allow me to define both;
 Illusion: A mirage, an apparition, semblance, a thing that is or is likely to be wrongly perceived or interpreted by the senses.
 Delusion: Misconception, misbelief, misapprehension, an idiosyncratic belief or  impression that is firmly maintained despite being contradicted by what is generally  accepted as reality or rational argument, typically a symptom of mental disorder.

Ah, an apparition, perceived, the senses. Perception is reality, and sensing my ghost my 
way has literally saved my life. How can seeing my memories the way I need to see them possibly be delusional? Seems to me that's quite the smart thing to do. If I saw my beautiful illusion for who she truly was, it would serve me no purpose. What does serve me purpose, however, is the gifts she gave me that I, in turn, have passed down to my own daughter.
As far as delusion goes, perhaps there is a very fine line between the two. I, however, am quite practiced at being in love with an illusion. As I said, I have been doing so for forty years. Where the illusion ends and the delusion begins is here; whether or not your illusion is past (an adjusted memory) or present (an adjusted reality), there are rules one must follow so as not to cross the lines and these rules are pretty much the same in both instances. Seeing things the way you want to is a privilege that cannot be abused. That would lead to addiction, and it is very easy to get addicted to an illusion, as it is there to make you feel better, a drug to ease the pain. Consume with great care. Your illusion is not there to provide you a living wage. It is not there to take you to dinner on Christmas eve. Your illusion is not there to bolster your self esteem. That is your job as you grow and learn. Your illusion is simply a wicked poison, a potion. That is all you can ever expect from your illusion. If your illusion is a living thing, and you are involved with them, you have to learn to separate the humanity one would expect from another person from this illusion. You have to remember that while they are a real breathing, thinking human being, they are not there to fill the needs we have from other humans. This is different. Your illusion is just as practiced at playing this role as you are at being in love with a fantasy. Your illusion will make  your dreams come true, as long as you understand that you are living in the moment. Ahh, you will hear the words you need to hear and you will be kissed and caressed and swept away. Because your illusion is a human being, you will have received the contact, the connection you desire, and if you know what you're doing, in terms of alluding addiction, then you are high for a week, or a month, or whatever, as time is irrelevant, and your hole, your void is filled, because that is what your illusion does best. It knows you, knows what you need. And that is what it is there for. The rules are very clear. For both of you.

While being in love with an illusion can be quite exhilarating, it is also a very lonely road. As I have lived in the shadow of my mother's suicide, I have been thought to be some sad waif whose mommy died. If people had just been decent to me in the years following her death, I would have been in a good place with my memories of her. Instead, however, I was ostracized for even remembering her. There were no photos of her in my home, or my attic, the idiot father threw them away. I was forbidden from mentioning her name and was most certainly dissuaded from having any good memories of her. "You're mother was crazy! I'm glad she's dead." It's no wonder I retreated to a fantasy existence. The more I loved my mother, the more I got back at those bastards who forbade me from thinking of her in the first place. And the more peace I found. When I expressed my particular thoughts in regards to my mother to other members of my family, they all tried to coddle me and explain their perception of her life and death. It was a lonely existence for me and I became my own best friend, surrounded by a circle of so-called imaginary friends with whom I have shared some of the most intimate conversations of my life. Funny, all of my imaginary friends, the memories I have of my mother and my incredibly deep well of creativity are still with me. All the other bullshit, the "real" bullshit, has fallen away. Maybe not so lonely, after all. Best advice: have friends that actually understand that these are the tools you use to navigate your life. There aren't too many of them out there, but they're worth keeping around because when you say something that only you usually understand and they really do, too, it is that moment of comfort those of us who live in an imaginary world  world that we seek in everything we do.

Maya Angelou said, "We are only as blind as we want to be." She is right, for those of us who CAN do this, see what we want to see and be content with that. I am very thankful for the ability to do this. It plays a very significant part of who I am. If I had to see everything I actually have seen, I'd be dead, just like my mother. Blissful ignorance is a very effective tool in the art of survival. It's better than using drugs and liquor to mask the fear of life people like me come to know. This tool has also allowed me to recognize the people I need around me to advance my agenda. Not everyone will indulge you in such a request. This I have learned having hardly ever met someone who would. You have to learn to do exactly the opposite of what the aforementioned experts will advise; you have to actually seek out and attract the kind of person who will tell you what you want to hear, share with you their coping skills, bring out in you a passion you have always longed to bring to the surface. They will be happy to know everything about you, just so they can use it to charm you, impress you, retain you. You are looking for someone who uses words, not actions. The actions come when you use your own cult of personality. How you attract someone like this is to express your sadness in your loss, appear sexy and shy and needy and confident all at the same time. Right now, you are bait, seeking to co-exist with your counterpart. I will tell you, I don't think these two types of personalities meet up very often. Being in love with an illusion usually defines someone who was ill-prepared and devastated by a sociopath. I love my illusion a great deal, for every single one of the reasons I have described above. I am certain he is a sociopath, a result of his life, something I understand clearly. But I am not a victim. I am doing the same thing to advance the illusion of my life. I continue to dance with him because I choose to continue the dance. The more comfortable my illusion is with my relation to him, the better it gets. It's what brings me to share these words on the first day of the year. My resolution is to get better at this game, not stop playing it because I keep getting sidelined with injuries. Any good player knows, you do what you gotta do to play the game. It isn't even always about winning. It's about the players.

A word of the wise to all you folks out there, be you professional or ley, it matters not. Don't overgeneralize your diagnosis, prognosis or cure. Every case is different. A plethora of people have told me I am doomed, thought me mad, institutionalization-able. They are all gone. My beautiful illusion is still here and while most people would think one player in this game over came his opponent and she still keeps coming back for more, because she hates herself (stop saying this, assholes. To me, you sound ignorant, and to me, your opinion is worthless and mostly unsolicited!) too much to find a man who treats her better. I get exactly what I want from my man and this has all been of my own grand design. Not his. Or perhaps he has his own grand design. Again, matters not. I have said no to him only once, and I regretted it, not because he made me (regret it). I just regretted it. To the point of my telling him not to ever let me say no to him again, which I sometimes forget, and he never fails to remind me, because prior to my plea, he would have let me say no. In fact, he said, "It's not my place to tell you to say 'yes'." The whole control thing, real hard for me to give away, but I know so well that he will make me feel alive again when I feel dead, I don't want the ability, the authority to say no.
And here is my current beautiful illusion; he is tall in stature and charisma. He is creative and smart, about the things I need him to be smart about, anyway. He is wounded, yet determined. He is young, in his heart and in his mind, which makes him reckless, making him as about as far from perfect as I am. His soul is as old as mine and while he knows me well enough to say what I want to hear, he also says things that remind me of that which we have in common, like our concurrent and adolescent study of mysticism. It's probably a result of our childhood experiences that had us hating "God" and seeking something bigger, elsewhere, but we both did this and I know this about him from facts, not words. And our both having dated bookies and married Latin-American people. Our mothers, our fathers, We have allot in common. I am momentarily comforted while in his presence. He whispers how wonderful I make him feel, as he pulls my hair and kisses me so fucking hard, nothing has ever compared to that intensity. I lack what he makes up for and vice verse. We are a perfect yin and yang. Allot of my illusion consists of some very heavy reality, but it's a reality easily forgotten for a moment in the arms of our distraction. He is sexy and charming and a lover of the arts and a college boy and dark and mysterious and strong and controlling and passionate and handsome and funny and shy and sensitive and protective and in spite of his sociopathic indifference, he cares. The way he knows how. He is also probably the one person on earth who doesn't hold "crazy' against me. He gets it. He inspires me to write, he is my muse and he is, for many reasons, the other half of me. Illusion or not, sure is nice when I reach out, in desperation, to ask him to shine that buoy light for me, in the middle of my darkness, lost at sea, he responds. Yeah, like it or not, neigh-sayers, there is more comfort in that than anything else I have actually found to comfort my loneliness. He's what I see all day. He's the voice in my head when I wanna veer off course and, perhaps indulge in another of my favorite addictive past-times. He's why I know so much about myself and he is the best drug I have ever done.

I'm not giving up my illusions for new year's. In fact, I'm resolving to investigate them even further...

Happy New Year!!!

Deannalynn Arzola