I time travel to confess to things. So.. In ADVANCE
BUT IM NOT SORRY
And a word of advice to the Planet is…
If I want
GIVE ME WHAT I WANT
And also if I bother to say something… just accept I mean it
Unless I fancy you in which case I am maybe being coy, I do-do that
>> ref <<
There are two main traditions of the Tristan legend. The early tradition comprised the French romances of two poets from the second half of the 12th century, Thomas of Britain and Béroul. Later traditions come from the Prose Tristan (c. 1240), which was markedly different from the earlier tales written by Thomas and Béroul. The Prose Tristan became the common medieval tale of Tristan and Iseult that would provide the background for the writings of Sir Thomas Malory, the English author who wrote Le Morte d’Arthur (c. 1469).
(We have a chihuahua called Arthur… We call him Tu)
The story and character of Tristan vary from poet to poet. Even the spelling of his name varies a great deal, although “Tristan” is the most popular spelling. Most versions of the Tristan story follow the same general outline.
After defeating the Irish knight Morholt, Tristan travels to Ireland to bring back the fair Iseult for his uncle, King Mark of Cornwall, to marry. Along the way, they ingest a love potion which causes the pair to fall madly in love. In the courtly version, the potion’s effects last a lifetime, but, in the common versions, the potion’s effects wane after three years. In some versions, they ingest the potion accidentally; in others, the potion’s maker instructs Iseult to share it with Mark, but she deliberately gives it to Tristan instead. Although Iseult marries Mark, she and Tristan are forced by the potion to seek one another, as lovers. While the typical noble Arthurian character would be shamed by such an act, the love potion that controls them frees Tristan and Iseult from responsibility. The king’s advisors repeatedly endeavour to have the pair tried for adultery, but the couple continually use trickery to preserve their façade of innocence. In Béroul’s version, the love potion eventually wears off, and the two lovers are free to make their own choice as to whether to cease their adulterous relationship or to continue.
As with the Arthur-Lancelot-Guinevere love triangle, Tristan, King Mark, and Iseult of Ireland all love each other. Tristan honours, respects, and loves King Mark as his mentor and adopted father; Iseult is grateful that Mark is kind to her; and Mark loves Tristan as his son and Iseult as a wife. But every night, each has horrible dreams about the future. Tristan’s uncle eventually learns of the affair and seeks to entrap his nephew and his bride. Also present is the endangerment of a fragile kingdom, the cessation of war between Ireland and Cornwall (Dumnonia). Mark acquires what seems proof of their guilt and resolves to punish them: Tristan by hanging and Iseult by burning at the stake, later lodging her in a leper colony. Tristan escapes on his way to the gallows. He makes a miraculous leap from a chapel and rescues Iseult. The lovers escape into the forest of Morrois and take shelter there until discovered by Mark. They make peace with Mark after Tristan’s agreement to return Iseult of Ireland to Mark and leave the country. Tristan then travels to Brittany, where he marries (for her name and her beauty) Iseult of the White Hands, daughter of Hoel of Brittany and sister of Kahedin.
In the Prose Tristan and works derived from it, Tristan is mortally wounded by Mark, who treacherously strikes Tristan with a poisoned lance while the latter is playing a harp for Iseult. The poetic versions of the Tristan legend offer a very different account of the hero’s death. According to Thomas’ version, Tristan was wounded by a poison lance while attempting to rescue a young woman from six knights. Tristan sends his friend Kahedin to find Iseult of Ireland, the only person who can heal him. Tristan tells Kahedin to sail back with white sails if he is bringing Iseult, and black sails if he is not. Iseult agrees to return to Tristan with Kahedin, but Tristan’s jealous wife, Iseult of the White Hands, lies to Tristan about the colour of the sails. Tristan dies of grief, thinking that Iseult has betrayed him, and Iseult dies swooning over his corpse. Several versions of the Prose Tristan include the traditional account of Tristan’s death found in the poetic versions.
In French sources, such as those carefully picked over and then given in English by the well-sourced and best-selling Belloc translation of 1903, it is stated that a thick bramble briar grows out of Tristan’s grave, growing so much that it forms a bower and roots itself into Iseult’s grave. It goes on that King Mark tries to have the branches cut three separate times, and each time the branches grow back and intertwine. This behaviour of briars would have been very familiar to medieval people who worked on the land. Later tellings sweeten this aspect of the story, by having Tristan’s grave grow a briar, but Iseult’s grave grow a rose tree, which then intertwine with each other. Further tellings refine this aspect even more, with the two plants being said to have been hazel and honeysuckle.
A few later stories even record that the lovers had a number of children. In some stories they produced a son and a daughter they named after themselves; these children survived their parents and had adventures of their own. In the romance Ysaie the Sad, the eponymous hero is the son of Tristan and Iseult; he becomes involved with the fairy king Oberon and marries a girl named Martha, who bears him a son named Mark.
I’m into doing things differently and solutions and psychology and stuff, so here you go
If this is some kind of karmic story for you – basically if the girl/guy you like wants to fuck your bestfriend – be really nice and be okay with it. Think nothing of it. Ok, go ahead etc. Yes it hurts but you keep that hurt inside of you because it gives you a lot of power later. (Coming from someone who has mastered the art that is revenge)
They will fuck and realise that they absolutely hate each other – and that the only reason they got on was because of you – it’ll be over and done with and they’ll eventually come back to you.
The reason that his wife and his bestfriend were “in love” was because they enjoyed the aspect of it not being okay, for one reason or another. Or y’know, sometimes people have physical attractions but don’t realise that involves the chemistry of the people they meet through. Which is why they couldn’t of had a threesome anyway, the bestfriend and the wife were probably connected by the jealous-energy that the husband sent out.
If you practice law of attraction you kinda know that if you fear something it’s more likely to happen. (When I was younger I’d of just embarrassed them by making them aware of the fact that I knew they were attracted to each other) (I am amazing at embarrassing people)
Actually – this happened to me once. I met a guy that I really fancied (I’d like, fancied him for years and he was sort of my type) and he liked me (and never admitted it) but there were issues because he was doing the homosexual thing and wasn’t really aware of the notion that a person could be male inside (which is ironic because he thought the only reason I was interested in him was his looks – when it was always my looks that were the problem, cos y’know, I don’t have a penis) (If I had been born with a penis I’d of transitioned to be a girl, I’m never satisfied with what I’ve got) – and also I was wearing really bad shoes – but I invited that boyfriend (who “looked like Steve-O”) (don’t I look like VILLE VALO THOUGH!?) because of my fear of being around new people (If I don’t know you I am generally mute until I’ve worked you out) – I invited my boyfriend at the time (who I’d of – without hesitation – left him for) and he ended up fancying my boyfriend and trying to encourage him to cheat on me (and my response to that was pretty nonchalant because I wouldn’t of considered it cheating anyway, I was actually quite comfortable with them fucking/doing whatever)
(and maybe he just wanted to break us up) (but that is some kind of “awwwww” thinking that I refuse to fall for) and then ironically I ended up fancying HIS friend (who wouldn’t of been able to cope with me because I am REALLY messy – and also he is better at arguing than I am – because thats all his family ever did – so he’d trigger me) (I hung out with a fragment of him and he got weirded out by blood, so if thats a thing we’d never of worked because I am generally only really ever stupid enough to sex people when I’m on my period) (but I did help him with his drug addiction, cos hanging out with me was so fun and intense and sincere that he didn’t even really think about the fact that he had so much weed)
and then eventually I had some kind of weird emotional outburst at the boyfriend … who was nice enough to bring me a change of clothes and stuff. And I think that made them all quite protective of that boyfriend – because I brought out a really nice side of him (that no one ever saw) and he brought out a really mean side of me (that no one ever saw) (I was mad because I was crushing on the gay guy and he was being mean) andddddddd they all hung out with that boyfriend in my appreciated-absence and realised that no one brought out the person I did. (He’s actually never truly loved someone since me but thats my revenge for him fucking everything in the period we were dating when I was only allowed out on Saturdays and Sunday afternoons)
(and cheating on me with his ex girlfriend??)
EXCUSE ME I AM A LOVE ALBATROSS!!! YOU FUCKED UP
(I used to call that boyfriend “2.” He had it tattooed on him – actually I illustrated a HEART with a 2. and ONE wing – LIKE SEPHIROTH – (and I’d of had it tattooed on ME but like, I couldn’t afford tattoos) and he had it tattooed on him) (And then he got that replaced with a blue rose (WHICH IS ALSO A ME THING) because his stupid as all hell girlfriend made him cover it.
If you get a partners name tattooed on you and you break up – don’t get it COVERED? IT MEANS SOMETHING BIGGER THAN YOU! And you’ll probably end up covering it with a thing that has to do with them ANYWAY.
For most people – the body doesn’t matter all that much. Souls and spirits traverse physical coordinates… this means the karma stays the same between you and that fragment. So if you split people up into twelve souls, and then split them up again based on who they were growing up (and it gets even deeper if you’re into starsigns) – you’ll realise you’re doing the same thing over and over again, with new people to trigger old hurts. So that ex of mine, was sort of like my older brother. My older brother and I are sort of the same person, we just look different – and our personalities are very different – even if our interests are quite similar.
Anyone that knew my brother in the best years of his life would’ve found it strange – how many similarities there were between that ex and him. My brother left and there was a karmic space for a fragment of him that we could live out our karma together in a different dynamic. I’ve always said my brother was more of a dad to me than my dad ever was.
The “homosexual” guy I fancied (Actually – a girl in a guy’s body) – reminded me of a childhood friend I’d had, who was also definitely gay – who had lots of obsessive female friends, but who looked too young to me. I could never know but I always think he was the brother my mother lost before she had me. And a fragment of herself perhaps.
It all gets very Greek – pantheon doesn’t it? I wrote in a blog that I since deleted that the people you grow up with are energies that you pour into the people you meet.
Anyway so that boyfriend and I broke up – my world was completely shattered and I slept, cried and ate pasta for months and lost some weight. I developed depression and started taking prescribed medication for it. I went to Uganda and got reckless with some diazepam and some coke. I came back and I started a sex blog – which was essentially a huge revenge project that got me some quiet and anonymous attention and also – believe it or not – made people FLOCK to tumblr. (TUMBLR KNOW IT, I KNOW IT) (I had a weird online flirtation with one of the programmers for tumblr and it’s weird how I can’t log into my old ichat) (I had the kind of contacts on that chatlist that people would murder for actually)
SO. We broke up. Somehow I knew he had a new girlfriend and that she was dreadful. (She shared a namesake with a girl the guy I lost my virginity to chose over me)
(She ended up almost stabbing him once – we laughed about it) And it all kind of destroyed me but I met a new guy and for a brief moment it was really nice (but not really, not at all) (it was abusive) (my response to abuse is to laugh so I think he and I were experiencing two different relationships)
That guy took me to see Morrissey. I liked this song.
He fancied a friend of mine a lot and she asked me if she could have him – but I’d already given her a guy, years before. I was done with giving her guys. I kind of pushed them towards fancying each other – as in I obnoxiously embarrassed them for it (but if someone
We had anal sex. He had a 10 inch penis. He ejaculated in my ass. It was a mess. He had shit on his penis. He told all of his weird friends. I don’t think many people in St Albans have anal sex but generally, unless you’re into cream pies, don’t do that
Me and that guy officially broke up after a trip to Ikea. I jumped into a pile of pillows. He bought me some cards and stickers with cakes on. This movie weirded us out a lot. I think the last time he ever properly saw me I said “You’ll regret this for the rest of your life” BOY WAS I RIGHT??
AND THEN THIS SONG CAME OUT A YEAR AND A FEW MONTHS LATER
I don’t make eye contact because I feel like if I make eyecontact you’ll know I fancy you, or I am daydreaming, or I am thinking about you and if I speak to you I might accidentally tell you I love you or something
and I look back and think that we should’ve just had a three way relationship thing and my boyfriend would’ve left me anyway cos he probably only stayed with me cos he was protective of me
It’s weird – I did tarot in Denmark about a guy I’d liked for years, who was nice on the surface but actually quite disingenuous. I’ve written about him a lot. But I got cards that sort of connected these two stories – I know now that he’d left his body and observed the reading but really (apart from that being insufferably rude – because apart from the fact that I was in a room by myself, and that I deserve privacy – the cards reflect a story much bigger than mine or yours or any two specific people’s) … Orpheus had one job and he couldn’t even do that right. So fuck this story. What a fucking incompetent.
(Like I’d say Hades and Persephone were trying to teach Orpheus to do as he’s told – cos that’s what killed the story.)
So – I mean – his wife gets raped? gets bitten by a snake? What’s he upto at the time? Then he writes some sad and super emotive songs and everyone convinces him to beg for Eurydice’s life – so he bips along to the Underworld and somehow manages to get past Cerberus (which is a big deal, I have to admit) and then he gets ONE instruction – DON’T LOOK BACK. He does it anyway and she ded
This is some kind of metaphor for archetypal male stupidity. Learn to take instruction, if not for yourself than like – for others
Some people don’t learn. Like, no matter how many chances you give them – they don’t learn. That is why my teacher Lisa must’ve said “you have to let people experience their karma” – also… karma remains the same if you do the same thing.
Which is why fuck-relationships and everything ever
But if I do have kids (and apparently they like to use me to time travel so I obviously do) and it seems they’ll all of been addicts in a past life… so isn’t it great that I’m lots of fun (and isn’t it great that you all had to lose me to learn that) and that it’s very hard to be addicted to anything dangerous in my company (just me)
Anyway so there’s no such thing as addiction – yes there are physical symptoms of addiction – but there is no such thing as addiction. There is only extreme boredom as a result of people choosing bad parents. So if I’ve ever babysat you… And I have babysat many people…