Mad?! We're All Mad Here!

Lilith was the first wife of Adam
So many years ago
And she ran away from him
For she would not sit just so
And their tension spread
into the bed
for he wanted to be ontop
And lilith said,
Only when I'm dead
We're equal as it's said.

And so lilith ran to the red red sea
and Adam married eve
the first divorce
had run it's course
but was hidden by the hand
of scholars and of fathers
greedy for money and land.

What they forget 
is that lilith returned
to torment Adam and Eve
to blight their lands
and mock their woes
For the Demon Lilith
Did not give Adam the fruit.

Jessa had been born in some of the darkest times her northern-dwelling kin had gone through. In the dead of a rough, early started winter, after a summer of drought and disease, and just as a slowly lost war had begun to spill into her small village of Ta’mier. Though her kind had a natural abundance of health, there were no children who survived that winter, accept for Jessa, who had battled through the sicknesses and famine with the bull-headed, stubborn and firey flare her brethren were known for, leaving her frail, but alive.

She often times regretted that her will to live had been so strong as a babe, before her family, and village, were slaughtered, and herself taken away into the strange world that lay hidden in the deep of the woods she had called home. She was taught, from the age of thirteen, to fight, not as defense, but as the key to survival. She was trained and conditioned by these deep wood dwellers to move with a stealthy silence, and strike with a deadly accurate grace.

At sixteen she was twice the height of these people, and, though she paled in comparison to her own kind, three times as strong. She had excelled at the lessons they gave her, from herbal lore and stealth, to full blown melee. It was in that summer, when the world was dry around her, that she finally got her revenge on the peoples who had destroyed her world, though she didn’t feel that way as she walked away from the blazing fire of the wood-land dwellings, listening to the screams of the men and women who she had barricaded into their own homes before setting them ablaze.

It's been a long week so far...and even though I have yet to inform any of the people I surround myself with, online or off, that I started a new LJ account...It's still been a long week...worth talking about I suppose...But perhaps not.
I realized, through out the course of the week, a few things I can, and cannot do:

1. I -cannot- hardline my lexapro
2. I -cannot- allow myself to over-enjoy things
3. I -cannot- sleep without Iris
4. I -cannot- continue feeling this tired and worn out
                         BUT
5. I -can- read a 5000 page book in about 5 hours
6. I -can- convince myself to make better choices
7. I -can- surround myself with people I cherish
8. and though I -cannot- save the world, I -can- strive to enable others to do so
9. (in conjunction with 8) I -can- help people reach their goals
10. I -cannot- let that aid interfere with my own goals, though.

I miss my dog...I miss being inebriated...I miss letting the world slip by like i've let it since the summer...Sobriety is pointless...
But yet inebriation is detestable to my brain...
I wish I could show people that part of me that still hopes and dreams and wishes....
Sadly, I can barely show it to myself anymore...
I wish I could be happy go lucky, and not keep this raging storm locked so tightly in my heart...and in my mind...

Am I a horrible person for finding out an acquaintance and his 16 year old girlfriend are having a kid...and being simply, utterly disgusted? Baffled...even? When before that I find out my best friend's sister is pregnant and I'm estatic...?

Am I repulsive for being so easily repulsed by the human body, yet so deeply captured by the mind?

Instead of answering these questions for myself....
I'm sitting here, sipping my tea, and tongueing along the inside of my mouth to try and capture that faint, sweet taste that this tea has...
Trying to fully appreciate that such a taste is so very very similar to the feeling left in the back of my brain after reading...Tinged with a sweet after taste that I know will fade...Tickled with the slightly sugar-sour taste of dreams I will never truly have....

Have -YOU- ever tasted such dreams?
Let them play over your mind
Honey coat your eyes
and quell the brooding torrents of your soul?
Only to find
that when you return seconds later
all that remains of that dream
is a sweet hint of its existence
a fading after taste 
like the bouquet of a fine wine
you got only a drop of?