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How will you help a person with suicidal thoughts? (by Vidhi Darji)

Posted in Uncategorized on September 19, 2022 by dreamlanddancing

Those Uncommon Thoughts

HOW WILL YOU HELP A PERSON WITH SUICIDAL THOUGHTS?
Suicide is a desparate attempt to escape suffering that has become unbearable. Blinded by feelings, of self loathing, helplessness and isolation, a suicidal can’t see any way of finding relief except through death. Most Suicidal people are deeply conflicted about ending their own lives. They can’t see any alternative option.
Suicidal prevention starts with recognizing the warning signs and taking them seriously. If you think your friend or family member is suicidal plenty of things you can do to help. There are number of things we can do as supportive and empathetic human.
SPEAK FROM THE SOUL. You are confuse sometime what to say to depressed or suicidal persons. We should speak from heart. Show that you care by talking to them.
LISTEN: Suicidal person carries so much burden, they feel they can’t handle. We should listen their loneliness, feeling of…

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Kick the stigma

Posted in Uncategorized on September 18, 2022 by dreamlanddancing

Many intelligent and creative people suffer some form of mental illness, (just like everyone else), but it seems like sensitivity and higher consciousness enhances vulnerability.

The day that I came back from my two-year hiatus, one of the bloggers that I used to read regularly posted an apology for being affected by mental illness. I was moved by his courage.

‘The unexamined life is not worth living’ is not a cliche. It takes courage to face your demons and re-evaluate your life. Sometimes it is not pretty or pleasant.

Diabetes is also an incurable disease. Who would judge them for being ‘weak’ or worthy of shame? It takes strength of character and an open mind to show everyone the compassion that we all deserve.

That which detracts from the lives of any of us diminishes and demeans the lives of all of us…and vice-versa.

Namasté

नमस्ते

Chazz Vincent

I’m back

Posted in Uncategorized on September 15, 2022 by dreamlanddancing

Today is my tenth anniversary with WordPress.

I’m back…What a coincidence

Posted in Uncategorized on September 15, 2022 by dreamlanddancing

I’m back…What a coincidence

Posted in Uncategorized on September 15, 2022 by dreamlanddancing

After over two years hiatus, I decided today to return to my blog.

Depression crippled me until I was essentially completely dysfunctional. Nowhere to go, and nothing to give. During that time, I was forced to re-evaluate my life, and with that came insights not possible otherwise.

When I logged back in, I discovered that today was my tenth anniversary with WordPress.

Most bloggers do not last much more than five years, much like most small businesses.

Last time that I logged in, I saw that many old friends had dropped from sight. I’m looking forward to reading here again, to see who’s left, as well as who is new to the scene who catches my interest, and vice-versa.

I will be releasing a novel that I have written that is due to be published shortly. Currently, I am awaiting final proofs of my cover. The title is (once in a…) Blue Agave Moon.

Sayonara, y’all

Namasté

नमस्ते

Chazz Vincent

Imagine My Surprise

Posted in Uncategorized on September 22, 2021 by dreamlanddancing

A week ago, I received an anniversary notice from WordPress.

Admittedly, I haven’t contributed in a while, what with being institutionalized, and put on meds and all that…seems like only yesterday that I discovered WordPress while trying to research Balinese Monkey chants and getting referred to this weird site.

I regard this as an electronic writers’ colony of sorts.

But then I tried to log in…WTF?!?!

If you are reading this, you know what I mean. Enough said.

I have finished Once in a Blue Agave Moon…finally. It only took about four years, but I rely on rather unorthodox methods to say the least. If you have been following my blog for any length o time you already know what I mean.

Although I have posted most of it already, there has been a major re-write and many changes. At long last, I intend to publish this, my third novel for real as an e-published work.

I have absolutely no idea what I’m doing, but if I can log back into this site, I probably will be able to do it, courtesy of my beloved Suki, who has at least kept me out of jail all these years. (The self-banishment into a professional facility was entirely my idea, but not without good reason, I can assure you.)

It is my belief that a writer must summons “any and all necessary means” to practice their craft, and mine is definitely the occult, and less-traveled road.

Anyone desiring an advance copy of the final for free is welcome to read and criticize. I will send it as an attachment for the asking. I will be removing the original text shortly, once I begin to remember how to work this site to my satisfaction.

It’s been a hell of a wild ride…nine years…Woo-Hoo!

Chazz Vincent

Apologia Revisited

Posted in Uncategorized on March 9, 2021 by dreamlanddancing

Even if you aren’t reading this,

…this moment,…these words…this testament

is for all of you, as well as for each of you…

the heroines of all my never-ending torch songs.

My heroines, my heroin…

Perhaps I wasn’t your best friend after all,

but not for nothing…you can’t say I didn’t try.

I’m a weaver of dreams, a conjuror of spells,

but I fear the realities I brought you 

did not live up to the Great Expectations I inspired

until I disappointed the Dickens out of you.

“I’m sorry” I say

“Is there nothing I can do?” I ask

as you sadly shake your head (“no”).

as a small part of me dies inside.

This is what I do time and again.

‘til you’d think I’d grow weary of it,

but no, I just grow so very,…very weary

of letting you down again.

I didn’t want to be that guy…after all…

I was the guy who taught you Grand Theft Auto

(not the video game…)

The guy who took you

camping, or fishing, or diving or hunting

smuggling guns or contraband and stolen

works of art over state lines,

screwing like cats in heat at turnpike rest stops,

driving too many hours with too little sleep

were it not for ‘better living through chemistry’

You were the first to jump right in with me, wherever

whatever magic helped raise the ante

back when it was still fun

to live dangerously and without fear…

walking past chalk lines to do the Devil’s bidding

like it was a game of (hip-) hop-scotch.

When copping a feel or a few stolen kisses

still took our breath away.

I was the guy your parents warned you about

even after they found me charming, witty and bright,

because they didn’t know I was also that other guy…

 wasn’t that a part of the appeal….?

I was the Serpent in the Garden and you were my Primordial Eve.

You became my co-conspirator.

You followed me into

sleazy clubs in basements underground;

in practice houses, and lived in industrial neighborhoods,

a haunted house way out in the country

next to a cemetery where no one else would live

or warehouse districts, or wherever I found a place,

playing guitar so loud you thought your eyeballs would bleed

and your ears would ring for weeks on end,

where we would hold out like outlaws day and night.

You went with me to rifle and pistol ranges, and dojos,

living in houses filled with guns and ammo

(not the magazine….),

the walls of entire rooms lined with amplifiers to the ceiling,

guarded by dangerous dogs who loved you

almost as much as me

and would have killed for you as you would for me

or I for you,

when it seemed like that moment

was just around the next turn in the story.

There was a knife and a gun in every drawer

and under each pillow each night.

We slept in tents, on floors, in cars and trucks,

or high-rise apartments overlooking the bay

that we could never afford,

if not for the generous benefactors

we chose to entertain.

We watched porn together. We made porn together,

Hell, we were porn together

and everything we ever did was either Art or Music.

We painted everything in sight.

We sketched and photographed each other

while we played and sang with such conviction

I don’t know how our hearts didn’t burst.

We learned to dance the Apocalypso

on the razor’s edge ‘til dawn

and got up and did it all over again.

We drove way too fast through downtown traffic

any time of day, whichever way we were going,

or late at night along the beach with the lights out

or up on the Interstate, illuminated by

flamingo-pink sodium vapor lights;

stopping on the causeways over Biscayne Bay

just long enough to remind each other of who we were

and just where we were just then.

When every moment alive together was a miracle.

We fucked on the perimeter road around MIA,

(Em-Eye-Eh)

with the planes maybe a hundred feet

over our heads, engines screaming

and one eye looking out for cops

with nothing better to do

than to wish they could have been us.

No matter where we went or what we did

it seemed like I could talk our way

into or out of anything or anywhere

and charm the birds from right out of the trees,

particularly if it meant staying out of jail…or worse

(but most especially if I thought it might impress you.)

But most of all, I let every one of you down

one way or another.

…so many memories of that defining moment

when you knew it was over,

leaving me to figure it out later….

I played grasshopper to your ant

well into our winter of discontent.

It didn’t turn out happily ever after…

it never has and probably never will,

for me or for you….

Maybe it never does.

Maybe it’s not supposed to…

I just hope you can look back and remember

those few golden moments we shared, the same fondness,

with the same lack of reservations we shared back then

before we gave a thought to how it all might end,

because it was the beginnings and everything in between

that made it all worthwhile for me…

and each ending too beautifully, poignantly sad to just be forgotten

back when I was just me and you were just you

before we ever thought about tomorrow….

If I had the chance to do it all over again

I’d do it all over you.

It just took me too long to realize

that not being a bad person

didn’t make me a good person.

(…but not for nothing)

You can’t say I didn’t try.

Who can say they did all of it,

and gave their all with all of me?

(You know who you are, n’est-ce pas?)

Just you…

Because before there was you and me, Darlin’

each one of the others saw something special

to show me about myself that took me higher,

‘tho some cut me low before they were thru.

But I cannot deny

each one of them didn’t teach me a thing or two

I hadn’t yet learned

so that maybe it wouldn’t happen

the same way to me and you.

So here we are now just you and just me

and those wantonly willing hostages

whomever we take as we continue together

until

The End.

Namasté

नमस्ते

Chazz Vincent

copyright  ©  March 9th, 2021  

Fish swim with the tides, into and out of the lagoon as it empties itself, receives from, and flows back into the sea.

*ALL REFERENCES TO ANY PERSONS CONFIRMED STILL LIVING IS PURELY CO-INCIDENTAL…AND THE DEAD ARE TOO BUSY LAUGHING AT US TO CARE.

Time Flies

Posted in Uncategorized on September 7, 2020 by dreamlanddancing
8 Year Anniversary Achievement
(And to think that it all started by researching Balinese Monkey Chants, when I found this site.) For me, this is an electronic writers colony.

Happy Anniversary with WordPress.com!You registered on WordPress.com 8 years ago.

On Letting Go

Posted in Uncategorized on July 20, 2020 by dreamlanddancing

 

No More “I Love You”

 

No More Torch Songs

I can no longer

only write the songs

that make me cry.

Namasté
नमस्ते
Chazz Vincent

07/20/2020

 

 

 

Once in a Blue Agave Moon: chapter 44

Posted in Uncategorized on May 20, 2020 by dreamlanddancing

The Night of the Day of Reckoning

Chiana and Jedidiah continued to hold and caress each other as they sat on the cool, wet floor of the shower. A single candle illuminated the bathroom.

Chiana finally broke the silence. “Let’s get dried off so we can move this party to more comfortable quarters. Do you want anything to drink?

“How about some of Elliott’s signature tequila?” Elliott asked.

“The Blue Agave Moon?…with or without the THC? she asked.

“With, please. You know the truth is that I like the flavor a little better because of the terpenoids. It gives it a more complex flavor and aroma.”

“I don’t usually drink at all, but I think I’ll try one with you. Shooter? Margarita? Mojito? Tequila Sunrise, or even a Tequila Bloody Mary? Name you poison.” Chiana moved very close to Jed’s face and she lightly dragged her fingernails across his chest until she finally rolled his nipples between her thumb and index fingers.

“How about a couple shooters, so we don’t get distracted for too long?” Jed began to grin as he took in a long, deep breath.

Clearly, he was starting to really relax without an audience.

“I normally never drink straight whiskey, but maybe now is a good time to try other new things.” Clearly, she was enjoying the chance to flirt seductively and openly without any guilt or awkwardness.

“Maybe you should try a chaser, like either water or juice, so that you don’t get sick…just a suggestion.” Jed was now matching her playfully aggressive demeanor as he  stroked her outer thighs with both hands before resting them on her hips.

“Probably a good suggestion…I guess it all depends on what you mean by sick,” she chuckled.

Their playful banter and posturings resembled watching bird courtship.

As they walked toward the kitchen/dining area, Jed began to speak. As Chiana poured the drinks, Jed stood behind her and stroked her shoulders and back, pulling her hair back and spreading it over her shoulders before finally cupping her breasts from behind.

“I get the feeling that you have been feeling what I have ever since we met, but  didn’t want to disrespect you, or Elliott, or your marriage.”

“I know, and ‘Doc’ and I appreciate that; otherwise it wouldn’t be possible to explore this discovery, but don’t attach too much reverence for the whole thing…it is what it is.”

“We both needed some breathing room, and if you hadn’t been here, I don’t think I could have been so understanding about three of his ex-lovers showing up on our doorstep, but right now, for the moment, I’m not even curious, because right here, right now I don’t want any distractions from our mutual exploration.”

A hint of sadness infused her words, before she suddenly spun around with two shot glasses in her hands.

“Here’s to fearlessness, or at least Courage…” as Chiana raised her glass, Jed encircled her upraised arm before bringing the glass to his lips, never taking his eyes from Chiana’s as she mimicked his gesture.

Lick, drink and bite…the ritual of Tequila. A moment frozen in time as they exchanged a very long, lingering gaze into each other’s eyes, as Chiana abruptly dropped her glass and grabbed his face to kiss him deeply and slowly as she felt his cock stiffen and rise to rub against her belly.

“There’s no need to hold back…no need to be shy…I can’t think of anything I wouldn’t do, or at least try with you. I mean I might even learn something new, or learn to like it.” Chiana was breathing hard and clearly every bit as excited as Jed.

With that, Jed scooped Chiana up into his arms, but as she started to put her arms around his neck, he suddenly threw her over his shoulder and smartly slapped her ass, grunting like an animal as he carried her toward the bedroom.

“OOOOOOO!” she howled as she slapped his ass even harder, laughing wickedly. “Are you going to fuck me like a caveman?”

“I’m not sure..I never fucked a caveman before” he said.

With that, he dumped her onto the bed before burying his face between her legs. She had shaved hastily the night that the group had arrived, but aside from a few small areas of either stubble or razor burn, it was almost perfectly smooth.

She clearly needed no foreplay at this point, as she was literally dripping wet, but the idea of Jedidiah lapping at her open, wet cunt made her gush even more, as it ran down to her ass onto the bed.

With that, Jed arose to his knees before grabbing Chiana roughly at the hips, lifting her up and impaling her upon his rigid cock so hard it made them both gasp.

“Oh God! Don’t stop! Fuck me as hard as you can…I can take it…I want it bad…split me in half for all I care. Pound me like a drunken whore…Ungh! Ungh! Ungh! Ungh!

Jed’s cock was about an inch longer than Elliott’s, and he was hitting places she hadn’t felt in years. Tears began to flow down her face, not in pain, but in ecstasy, and she began to hyperventilate, causing her head to swim, even on her back.

He legs were pinned against her chest, and her knees were back by her ears as Jed kept his head between her neck and shoulders, which thankfully, kept him from seeing her tears.

They rutted like animals, like those possessed by demons, for so long that they lost all sense of time or place, envisioning being on an alter on a stage in an auditorium, or maybe even a stadium with an audience cheering them on.

So enthralled with the visions they were having, they did not even look at each other until first Chianna, then Jed began to come, gasping, laughing, crying out, and moaning with each renewed, violent thrust as spasms of pleasure crashed over them in waves, sweating, dripping, laughing and gasping as he finally fell on top of her, before rolling off.

Both of them were delirious with pleasure and a joy on the verge of hysteria enveloped them both before they looked into each other’s eyes again.

Both touched their index fingers to each other’s lips, as if to say “Don’t speak…no need for words…”.

“Boop-oopa-doop!” The moment of silence was shattered by what sounded for all intents like a parrot vocalizing.

Jed looked to the dresser in the bedroom, and recognized the giant Amazon Macaw shifting her weight from one leg to the other, rocking back and forth as she spoke.

“Betty!” Jed exclaimed. “I was wondering how long it would be before we saw you.”

“Well, now you know…Boop-oopa-doop! I saw you first, but you two were distracted at the time. Nice moves, by the way…who’s the new playmate?”

“Betty, allow me the pleasure of introducing Chiana…Elliott’s wife, by the way.”

“The pleasure is all mine…uh, come to think of it, perhaps not, judging from your performances…” Betty chortled.

“Hello, Chiana, nice to watch, I mean, to see you…but by the way…although most people know me as ‘Betty’, in another lifetime, Elliott and Jed used to call me ‘April’.”

“Elliott’s wife? Well, not that I ever expected in my lifetime to see him change his spots, so it’s not that surprising…welcome to the club.”

Namasté

नमस्ते

Chazz Vincent

copyright  ©  March 12th, 2021  

Fish swim with the tides, in and out of the lagoon as it empties itself, receives from, and flows back into the sea.

*ALL REFERENCES TO ANY PERSONS CONFIRMED STILL LIVING IS PURELY CO-INCIDENTAL…AND THE DEAD ARE TOO BUSY LAUGHING AT US TO CARE.

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