Saturday 7 Nov 2009, Greenfield
I can't haunt the streets of Turners Falls today, the ghost, the Nemo (no-one), the frantic Demeter searching, and scourging the earth over her lost Persephone. There are no buses today.
I've called myself no-one on this blog, and on another I've called myself sehnen (longing). I'm both of those things. And if my personal archetypes have become Demeter frantic over her stolen daughter and Deirdre of the Sorrows, crying for 12 years over her murdered love and in the end killing herself, it's because of the last 12 hell years. I haven't gone into much of the hell pre-dating the stealing of my family in 2008, but those years actually began in 1997, and culminated in the destruction of my life last year. But all of my on-line journals, whatever I'm talking about in them, give clues to the damage that's been done over the last 12 years.
(resin figurine at www.toscano.com)
Click here to more about Deirdre.
read... Braonwandering... Spite and malice
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