Spring Break

I’m collaborating with Teagan Geneviene on a story for
Sue Vincent’s Blog.

It’s a fun project but takes focus.

I’ll be away through the weekend.

Here’s an interesting moment in time:

🙂

Header Image, ‘An Odd Thing’ (c) Rob Goldstein 2019

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Fellique Dupré in the Haunted World: Farewell my Raisin D’etre!

Marcy awakens the next morning and Fellique is gone.

On the mirror, scrawled in lipstick: Farewell my raisin d’être!

Behind the message Marcy’s reflection bubbles and is slowly
replaced by the face of a hag.

“Who are you!” demands the Hag.

Illustration of the 'Hag' based on a photograph of a paste up on Valencia Street in San Francisco
The male gods are titillated but not amused

“I am Marcy Bloomingdale of Queens, New York.”

“No! You are Persephone, ex-wife of Hades!”

Marcy rolls her eyes, “What’s he want?”

“The male gods are titillated by your lesbian affair but not amused.

They take revenge on you by unleashing your love’s late Mother, for
she cannot bear to see her daughter happy.

Fellique is her hostage in the Underworld.”

“By the gods,” exclaims Persephone, alias Marcy Bloomingdale of Queens, New York,  “How can I retrieve her!”

The image of the Hag begins to vanish, “You must seek the mercy of Pluto.

You must return to the Underworld…”

(c) Rob Goldstein 2017 All Rights Reserved

Felique Dupré in the Haunted World in the Haunted World: An Affair

 

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A Letter from Home: When My Alternates Talk to Each Other

For those who don’t know my blog, I have DID and a small family
of alternates.

One of my alternates is a 16 year old boy and the other is a
woman named Sara.

They know each other; Sara is a protector and Mother figure.

I found this letter from Bobby to Sara composed in 2010  with her reply.

I am surprised by the correspondence because I didn’t know
my alternates were friends and allies.

The logic of Dissociative Identity Disorder is that ‘split’ aspects
of the self are perceived as “other”.

I think that Sara was the first alternate, which means she
emerged in childhood.

She comes out when one of the younger alters feels threatened.

There are many letters filed under ‘Letters from Home”.

Most of these are from Bobby to Bob.

Bobby wrote this to Sara as a 15-year-old.

It is the only letter from Bobby to Sara.

Her reply follows this post.

dear sara,

i’m at battery park in Charleston watching an old guy with a
big box of crackers.

he’s feeding it to a flock of pigeons.

it reminds me of the story of exodus.

you reckon god threw manna at us a watched
us fight?

sometimes i think life is magic but grown ups don’t
wanna talk about magic.

ok, so, i got a question:

let’s say one day u meet someone an this person sez they got alotta  love for you an wanna do good by you but somethin’ dont feel right but you need to be loved an the dude seems straight up but there’s a shadow that you don’t really see but you know it’s there and it feels familiar.

but you don’t want to lose the love so u try to make room for  the shadow by telling yourself it ain’t there, when bam!

you catch the dude in a lie, like when we was robby, with nasty secrets, an the cruel bruises and words that slice your soul.

so you try to talk about it cuz you wanna believe it’s all in your head  so you say to the dude that says he loves you, you say: “i’m scared  that somethin’ is wrong.”

right away he starts calling me names an saying i’m a hater an that i ain’t got no gratitude cuz most folks don’t even want to know me an i think, “damn! this feels familiar!”

the only person that will ever love me will leave if i try to talk about these shadows that are now everywhere so i get confused, cuz I really  want it to be me, cuz maybe i’m imagining it, cuz maybe i’m a hater an  everything about me is wrong.

sara, are those shadows really there?

and i got one last question about thinking life is magic.

how come when i say i think the world is made of magic folks tell me to get over it and grow up?

Love,

Bobby

A Letter from Home: Dear Bobby

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I Want to Live a Lie

A virtual reality protrait of an avatar face in shadow surrounded by subdued color

i want to live
a lie

let’s log
in and
believe
it

let’s wrap ourselves
in pretty pictures
and
hyperbole

let’s agree that
we are perfect
despite the
evidence

let’s ride
a deserted highway
just you and me
beneath a virtually
setting Sun

let’s juice the radio
and drown each
other out

let’s build an
imaginary oasis
and count
imaginary stars
and laugh about
how much we
guess we know

about supernovas,
black holes and
lines of defense

no one gets in
or leaves

we are here
and we
collide but
if we touch

we vanish

(c) Rob Goldstein 2014

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