Letters of Import: Infatuation to Fantasy 17

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Letters of Import: Private Writings to a Psychoanalyst
Infatuation to Fantasy 17
Written by Jennifer Kiley
Illustrated by j. kiley
Intro and First Letter Published March 19th 2013
Published Early Tuesday AM
Seventeenth Posted Tuesday July 9th 2013
WARNING: ADULT LANGUAGE AND CONTENT NOT MEANT FOR CHILDREN

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Tuesday, January 22nd, 2008

Dear Annie,

Tales of my history has been greatly exaggerated. Not really. I never talk about it. Once I made the mistake of making a list of sex partners. I do not include abusers, pedophiles. That wasn’t sex. It had nothing to do with sex. They were all about abuse, power and control. Overpowering a child, what the fuck is that. You really are showing your sexual prowess. Not really. More like your sexual impotency and powerlessness. There is nothing in me feeling empathy for a pedophile. They are are lower than the scum on scum of the scum of the earth.

I made the list. Don’t we all. If not on paper, at least in our heads. Mine, I needed to write down, otherwise, I would lose count. The length or number of partners is created by a mix of sexual abuse and bipolar hyper-sexuality. Which when I look back and compare behavior with symptoms I am aware of today, match up perfectly with a combination of complex-PTSD and Bipolar competing in a challenge. Results are, who can create the most havoc, do the most damage and instill the most shame.

I am a card carrying lesbian. It has nothing to do with my abuse, bipolar or not getting love from my mother, father or anyone in my family except one. So when sex officially starts for me, on the record, my earlier male sex partners, I promise this could be a long story, but right to the point, I will state, all turned out to be gay. It is funny if you think about it. My abusers were from both sexes, all qualify as pedophiles but I wouldn’t give them the satisfaction of considering or registering them as gay or lesbian. Being gay or lesbian is an honour. I would include in this group, transsexuals, bisexuals, asexuals, pansexuals, and even our friendly heterosexuals.

Excluded are homophobic-sexuals, fundamentalist-sexuals, evangelical-sexuals, westboro southern baptist-hatred-sexuals, tea bagger-sexuals, homophobic-homosexuals-in-the-closet-sexuals-who-hate-homosexuals & pass-laws-to-make- homosexuality-or-any-sexuality-illegal-hate-women’s-rights-sexuals, and chicken-shit-republicans-who-haven’t-the-guts-or-balls-to-stand-up-to-the-mother-fuckers. This may not cover all of them but touches on some of the basic haters of anything sexual. Ah, one more inclusive group, those-who-think & feel-they-have-the-rights-over-womens-bodies & can-do-what-they-want-including-mutilation-murder-&-honour-killing-mother-fuckers.

Now back to something pleasant. My first gay bar, I ran into a guy I went to college with and yes we did the euphemism of sleeping together. We had sex. We worked on the college paper. He was my top editor when I was editor-in-chief. Now, back to the present. Here comes the stupid question. “What are you doing here?” He laughed, with his shit eating grin. “Are you kidding?” was his reply. “The same thing you are.”

Now how stupid am I. We were both there. It was a gay and lesbian bar. Dancing and booze, drugs on the down-low. Pretty much everyone was stoned out of their fucking minds on weed, poppers, hallucinogens, anything available. It was floating around the room or outside, you could find clusters smoking grass or hash. Before crack, thank you very much. All we wanted was a safe place to enjoy our major attractions, the same sex.

My buddy from college talked with me a long time that night. Found out the strangest things in our conversation. Turned out, he slept with the same guy I called my toker smoker sex buddy. With him I had a basic arrangement. He supplied the music, the smoke, the place and I would supply the sex. Not knowing about the bipolar proclivity to hyper-sexuality back then, I would safely say now I fell deeply into the category of someone who was hyper-sexual. It may have been the wrong sex but it was a need I had to satisfy. Never liked it, but did it anyway. Felt nothing. That’s not totally honest. Once, when I had the top, I got a major surprise. That was the first and only time ever. When you’ve being raped that position isn’t something rapists use. When he is fucking you he wants to see the damage he is causing and the power he is wielding.

I need a good, no, a great psychoanalyst. You, Annie. Dr. George is not long for my world. When he’s gone, I need you. He needs to disappear. Gone. Cleansed from my brain. Then I start new with you. You need to come through for me. Please.

Maybe a change of subject is needed. I don’t want to think about him or his fucking prick. I want to talk about something else. Someone else. Alison. Her presence almost gave me a heart attack. What the fuck was he thinking springing her on the group. Don’t misunderstand. I want her there, Oh, most definitely. When she started talking, I could barely breath. My eyes were on her. Her voice, her hair, the colour of her eyes, so blue, every feature. I time traveled. Then those words she spoke. Nearly fell on the floor. She announced, “I am a lesbian.” At that very moment I fell in love. It’s not like she wasn’t looking at me with something special in her own eyes. I would swear she was flirting with me like she knew me.

What the fuck came over me. She’s so familiar. I know her. I’m sure of it. But my brain has amnesia. Why is she so fucking familiar? And another thing, I can’t seem to stop swearing. My anger is seething through every pore. I want to punch someone, I am so angry. I think it’s this film we’re working on. Scottie’s always away. I hate that.

I’m going to change the subject for a moment. I think it’s time to tell you the title of our film. I came up it one night. It just floated from my subconscious when I was talking with Scottie. I just said, “Stop! I got it. The film’s name is “Brief Sacrifice.” Tell me that isn’t cool, Scottie.” She liked it. Then she fell in love with the title. But, damn it, it’s taking Scottie away all the time now. There have been some weird problems. I think there’s a curse on the film. That damned briefcase.

You will never guess how the main character got it open. Before I tell you part of the secret, I think you need to know the main character’s name. I told you the title, I might as well fill you in on some other details, Her name, which I feel is quite brilliant of me and Scottie did help. In fact, she helped a lot. She said, she liked the name I decided on. After throwing out names I found online for hours. I found it. Her name is Carter McLeod. She’s British and simply divine. The films takes place in London, mostly, and a few other places. But not going there yet. Now isn’t that the coolest name. I see a future for her. Carter McLeod. I just love the sound of it. And now, I know you will want to know who’s playing Carter McLeod. Scottie decided on one of my favorite new British actors. Try to guess. I’ll give you a hint. She was nominated for a BAFTA for Best Actress in 2007. Yes, she was. She should have won. I think she was robbed. I can’t even remember who beat her. Let me put you out of your misery. My all time favorite actor right now. It’s Natalie Stephens. I just dream about her. Beautiful, androgynous and sexy. Knowing she is playing the character I wrote is such a satisfying feeling. It’s sure to draw a huge audience. But back to what’s going on with that damned briefcase.

There is a secret pocket hidden on the surface of the leather. Undetectable. But Carter just kept running her hands over the surface, feeling for anything unusual. It’s like she were psychic. She found a thin line, like an old scar. It didn’t happen right away. Finding it, you would think was the difficult part. No, it wasn’t. How to get underneath the surface of the skin of the case, that was a whole other nightmare. That’s for next time I write.

I gave you the character’s name, and told you who the actor is playing the part. She really is great. Whenever I was on the set during the filming, I couldn’t believe Scottie got her to sign the contract. But Scottie can charm anyone, she’s so gorgeous and radiant, such a subtle quiet charm. Plus Scottie Andrews has the director’s touch, and everyone knows it, and wants to work with her. She melts everybody who meets, female and male, but hands off, she’s mine. I’ll scratch anyone’s eyes out that try to come between us.

It just came to me. I must be losing my mind. I just realized who Alison is. Damned idiot, I am. She’s Alison Porter. She made at least two films with Scottie. She’s acted the words I’ve written. Oh, my god, how the hell could I forget who she is. She looks so much like Tosh. Like they were twins. You do know who Alison Porter is, right? No one breathed a word. I know they were recent films. My short term memory is too fucked up. The films haven’t been released yet. That’s why. Post-production. Scottie works on so many films. I can’t keep track. Even if I’m the one writing them. Once in her hands, I only check in when rewrites are needed. I do like some of the sets but not great about being around people. And when they’re famous, the crowds gather and that really freaks me out. Usually stay home and Skype or email the changes. Talk on Skype with Scottie all the time that way. Holy, shit. Alison Porter. I am in love with her.

You did know who Tosh was. Alison is so much like her. Tosh was a singer. She composed her own music. It was so poetic. The lyrics crushed your heart. Where she found that pain. I only knew her such a short time. I never mentioned why we met or how. At least, I don’t think I did. Scottie approached her about using some of her music in one of her films. I keep saying her films. I feel they are our films. If she didn’t have my story and words, there wouldn’t be a film. I digress. Sorry. Scottie contacted Tosh’s manager or one of her people did. But Scottie talked directly with Tosh. They hit it off. She liked Scottie’s films. Anyway, Scottie invited her to our home for dinner. Over champagne, tokes of smoke, and great Italian cuisine, we both fell in love with her. Now, don’t worry about Scottie. Tosh was someone special but I wasn’t going to ever leave Scottie for anyone, no matter what I felt. Tosh, though, she tore my heart out. I was so in love. It was so special. She didn’t want sex. She wanted to show me what love was. Scottie is shy and she loves me but it wasn’t the same thing.

How do I explain when you meet a soul mate that you’ve known through a hundred lifetimes. That was Tosh. Scottie and I are new in our life times. We debated in past lives. Like great philosophers who could never convince the other of their conclusions as being the one that had the right answers or at least, the most accurate of conclusions. We were philosophers together. Tosh was Sappho. She was the lover of women. She knew the melody, the poetry, how to tenderly touch inside your soul, without ever touching any part of your flesh. She respected my restrictions. Her sensitivity picked up my reluctance to have physical contact. Scottie, also, understood that restriction. We did make love, Scottie and I, but I always had to stop. It just freaked me out. Scottie promised she could accept that from me. She would never force me to do anything I didn’t want to do. It’s just that, I can’t do anything.

Tosh reached me in other ways. I wrote about her kiss. It was light as a butterfly on your naked skin. It didn’t threaten. It was as far away from forceful as one could find. She wrote music for me. I listen to it all the time. It is part of the memory that I have left of her.

I am tired. This is all I can write this week. I will add one thing. Seeing Alison makes me feel like there is promise for the future. Not everything is about loss.

Now you just have to stay on my side and help me heal. I need deep healing from someone who can reach inside of me the way your feelings do. I trust you Annie. Don’t ever go away.

That is all I have to give for now. Wow. How amazing is life.

Fondly,
Madison

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Fantasy Sets for Film: BRIEF SACRIFICE with Lead Character CARTER MCLEOD. {played by BAFTA Nominated Actor NATALIE STEPHENS} Savannah Cats are Carter’s. Screenplay: MADISON TAYLOR. Director: SCOTTIE ANDREWS

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“brief sacrifice” mansion film set

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“brief sacrifice” rustic den film set

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“brief sacrifice” jasper-jax & james in foreground savannah kittens when they were 4 weeks old – grown up in film

MUSIC THEME FOR FILM: BRIEF SACRIFICE— Mysterious. Suspenseful.

Peter Illyich Tchaikovsky – Francesca da Rimini, Op. 32 (Fedoseyev) 25 min.

Peter Illyich Tchaikovsky – Symphony No. 6 “Pathetique”, Op. 74 (Fedoseyev) 50 min.

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Clik here to view.Madison Tayler’s Fantasy of Annie Haskell’s Office as a Psychoanalyst

Maksim — Somewhere In Time — Theme Song #1 For “Letters of Import”

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Infatuation To Fantasy
By Madison Taylor
January 21st 2008

A star sparkling in my presence
Heat and fire escape from her eyes
Wildness – courage and strength
Pour from her soul
Calling out to me
Noticing me as I notice her
Feeling her touch
Caressing softly-a feather’s down

A bird sits on my shoulder
Speaking her language
Whispering into my ear
Translating her messages
As she meant them for me
Such personal meanings
Making me blush
A hue of pale cardinal
The quickness of blood
Rushing the surface of my flesh
So secret in meaning
Attempts to comprehend the crypticism
Expressing my shyness
As she mimics my spirit

My hesitancy to approach
The newness inside of us
Though powerful in character
Certain reservations necessary
Need not rush
No need to overwhelm
Subtlety is more sensuous
Building to a slow crescendo
Oh-so much more enticing
The intrigue has time to grow
Developing in slow motion

Sensations growing inside
Building outward
Climbing higher
Touching the center
My body’s restrictions releasing
Allowing entrance to secrets
Releasing dreams
Creating meaning

My throat’s breathing
In shallow motions
Sounds effecting my senses
Opening the pathway
Wanting to scream
Holding back
Becoming too restrictive
Overtaking control
Release happens
Pleasure surrendered
Now falling backwards
Overcome by falling
Relaxation overwhelming
The awakened state slipping away
Morpheus calling out for dreams
Eyes close in the darkness
Unconsciousness drifting
Lifting floating body
Awareness liberated
Sleep thoroughly attained

© madison taylor 2008

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Clik here to view.orange sunset clouds by wolken

Maksim Mrvica — Still Water — Theme Song #17 For “Letters of Import: Infatuation To Fantasy 17

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Clik here to view.le chateau de rocher is the home of madison and scottie and their three cats mikey toker and patrick

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Clik here to view.le chateau de rocher art gallery

Maksim — Somewhere In Time Theme Song for “Letters of Import: Private Writings to a Psychoanalyst”

QUOTATIONS from: LETTERS of IMPORT: Private Writings to a Psychoanalyst

“A Dream

The beginning always starts out with a dream.
It is all a dream
And we are all players
In our own nightmares”
— Madison Taylor

“For that fine madness still he did retain,
Which rightly should possess a poet’s brain.”
~Michael Drayton~
(1563-1631)

“Who ever loved that loved not at first sight?”
Christopher Marlowe for “Hero and Leander”

“A therapeutic relationship is often more psycho-emotionally intimate than a marriage, or a romantic attachment. I know things about my patients that they would never dream of revealing to their spouses or families. Why is that? One word — trust. If you do not have a connection with a therapist, you cannot trust them. If you do not have trust, you will not expose yourself, and if you do not expose your innermost being, what good is the therapy?” — unknown but ask any great therapist

“Men have called me mad, but the question is not yet settled, whether madness is or is not the loftiest intelligence…whether much that is glorious–whether all that is profound–does not spring from disease of thought…” — Edgar Allan Poe

QUOTATIONS on INFATUATION:

“The world was collapsing, and the only thing that really mattered to me was that she was alive.” ― Rick Riordan, The Last Olympian

“Yes, I was infatuated with you: I am still. No one has ever heightened such a keen capacity of physical sensation in me. I cut you out because I couldn’t stand being a passing fancy. Before I give my body, I must give my thoughts, my mind, my dreams. And you weren’t having any of those.” ― Sylvia Plath, The Unabridged Journals of Sylvia Plath

“Good night, good night! parting is such sweet sorrow,
That I shall say good night till it be morrow.”
― William Shakespeare, Romeo and Juliet

“I think it is all a matter of love; the more you love a memory the stronger and stranger it becomes” ― Vladimir Nabokov

“What she had realised was that love was that moment when your heart was about to burst.” ― Stieg Larsson, The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo

“When you have seen as much of life as I have, you will not underestimate the power of obsessive love.” ― J.K. Rowling, Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince

“I feel intensely about the physical form of the female body. The smooth caressing line of the breasts. Followed by all parts of a woman are so soft and touchable. The heights one can take the sensations when making love. With a therapist who is male, they do not have this form that causes desire to bloom. It is just plain out inappropriate behavior and throw in a touch of sexual harassment to boot. I don’t want to see any man’s junk unless it is on screen and only if it is actually quite lovely. But I do not want my analyst going anywhere near that subject matter unless I am talking about an abuser raping me. Enough said.” — Madison Taylor, Letters of Import: Infatuation To Fantasy 17

FIRST ART ACQUISITION OUTSIDE OF INHERITANCE

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Clik here to view.entering the soul connection — artist anonymous

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