' "I'm going to tell you a story," said Zedka. "A powerful wizard, who wanted to destroy an entire kingdom, placed a magic potion in the well from which all the inhabitants drank. Whoever drank that water would go mad. The following morning, the whole population drank from the well and they all went mad, apart from the king and his family, who had a well set aside for them alone, and which the magician had not managed to poison.

The king was worried and tried to control the population by issuing a series of edicts governing security and public health. The policemen and inspectors, however, had also drunk the poisoned water and they thought the king's decisions were absurd and resolved to take no notice of them. When the inhabitants of the kingdom heard these decrees, they became convinced that the king had gone mad and was now giving nonsensical orders. They marched on the castle and called for his abdication.

In despair, the king prepared to step down from the throne, but the queen stopped him, saying: 'Let us go and drink from the communal well. Then, we will be the same as them.'

And that was what they did: the king and the queen drank the water of madness and immediately began talking nonsense. Their subjects repented at once; now that the king was displaying such wisdom, why not allow him to continue ruling the country?

The country continued to live in peace, although its inhabitants behaved very differently from those of its neighbours. And the king was able to govern until the end of his days."

..."Do you know what exists out there?"
"People who have all drunk from the same well."
 "Exactly," said Zedka. "They think they're normal, because they all do the same thing. Well, I'm going to pretend that I have drunk from the same well as them."
 "I already did that, and that's precisely my problem..." ' - from 'Veronika Decides to Die' by Paulo Coelho

Over the course of Autumns

Joanna is on somewhat of a high at the moment. She is enjoying this. It does, however, mean that she can no longer speak in the 'first person'. She is fine with this. She is now wondering if this entire entry is going to be as boring at this first sentence.

Hmm, we'll see...

So, over the past couple of weeks I've been concentrating (at work), trying to behave myself (at work), making mistakes with money (at work...oopsie!), celebrating Rosh Hashana with some Jewish buddies of mine (it was a bit like a Pagan ceremony what with the prayer and the eating of certain things at certain times, etc. Plus, apples dipped in honey = win), giving up her spare room to Wolverhampton wanderers, dancing and crying to Cavalcade (oh boys...you have brought the local music scene to life <3), making posters for musical eventings, decorating cakes for anniversaries, watching brass bands in smarmy little churches - 'niiiiice bit of Grieg!' ;), and re-writing Shakespeare choruses for filthy friends! Oh, and laughing ridiculously with the most awesome people in the world.

I only now, at my riiiipe old age, have the confidence (or the apathy) to just be creative and put my stuff out there. I partly have Sarah to thank for all her help with the flower arrangements I did for people when I lived in the Land of Wolves. Autumn comes alive this week, and it brings with it (as always) a part of life I connect with strongly. The Gods are most alive for me during the Winter and the Summer months, but over the course of Autumns things are more...(for want of a better noun - as always when speaking of such things) spirit based. However, I would like to get one thing straight - I am not a big hippie. Nor am I a Wiccan*. I connect to the old ways. That is perhaps the best way to describe things. As someone I knew long ago once said - 'Pagan, not pussy'.

Stop rambling and finish prettifying that cake, you slag.

Okay! Jeeeesus...! Wait, people should see this first - Clickedy And this - click.

The bards descend the waves of ancient seas

and poets' breath to decorate our trees

*grrrrrr

A solitary dancer...

'...driven by the irony that only being shackled to the road could ever I be free...'

Well my only full weekend off this month has been pretty much pooed on.

Now what I need is a solution. No point in dwelling on it, however perturbed I may be.

Time for a plan. Though all I want is to pack myself off to somewhere new already. And this is not me running away - this is my constant inner itch to do something new every single day, to drink in the world, to feel free...

'Ever since my childhood I've been scared, I've been afraid

of being trapped by circumstance, of staying in one place

and so I always keep a small bag full of clothes carefully stored
somewhere secret, somewhere safe, somewhere close to the door. '