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Bigger Than The Whole Sky
Posted:Nov 25, 2023 11:36 am
Last Updated:Nov 27, 2023 3:36 am
337 Views



And in every life we fall like stars into each other’s skies and we dream our way into each other’s destinies


No words appear before me in the aftermath
Salt streams out my eyes and into my ears
Every single thing I touch becomes sick with sadness
‘Cause it’s all over now, all out to sea

Goodbye, goodbye, goodbye
You were bigger than the whole sky
You were more than just a short time
And I’ve got a lot to pine about
I’ve got a lot to live without
I’m never gonna meet
What could’ve been, would’ve been
What should’ve been you
What could’ve been, would’ve been you

Did some bird flap its wings over in Asia?
Did some force take you because I didn’t pray?
Every single thing to come has turned into ashes
‘Cause it’s all over, it’s not meant to be
So I‘ll say words I don’t believe

Goodbye, goodbye, goodbye
You were bigger than the whole sky
You were more than just a short time
And I’ve got a lot to pine about
I’ve got a lot to live without
I’m never gonna meet
What could’ve been, would’ve been
What should’ve been you

What could’ve been, would’ve been
What should’ve been you
(What could’ve been, would’ve been)
What could’ve been, would’ve been you
(Could’ve been, would’ve been)
(Could’ve been, would’ve been)

Goodbye, goodbye, goodbye
You were bigger than the whole sky
You were more than just a short time
And I’ve got a lot to pine about
I’ve got a lot to live without
I’m never gonna meet
What could’ve been, would’ve been
What should’ve been you


Bigger Than The Whole Sky
Taylor Swift



5 Comments
Return to Wonderland .. Continued
Posted:Nov 24, 2023 5:20 pm
Last Updated:Nov 25, 2023 7:45 am
354 Views



”When the day becomes the night and the sky becomes the sea, when the clock strikes heavy and there’s no time for tea, and in our darkest hour, before my final rhyme, she will come back home to Wonderland .. and turn back the hands of time.”


The Hatter slowly walks onto the balcony where Alice is standing, leaning against the railing, hat in the crook of his arm.

“Have you any idea why a Raven is like a writing desk?” he asks conversationally.

Alice smiles beautifully then turns to look out over Marmoreal. “Let me think about it.” she responds.

“You know what tomorrow is, don’t you?” he asks, smiling widely at her.

Alice’s smile falls from her face as she answers. “Frabjous day. How could I forget? I wish I’d wake up.”

“You still believe this a dream, do you?” he asks, feeling a deep sadness well up. How could she believe that this was all a dream? That he wasn’t real?

“Of course this has all come from my own mind.”

“Which would mean that I’m not real.”

“Afraid so. You’re just a figment of my imagination.” she told him with a sad expression on her face. “I would dream up someone who’s half mad.”

“Yes but you’d have to be half mad to dream me up.” he said, a wide smile appearing on his face.

“I must be then.” She smiled briefly before it fell from her face again. “I’ll miss you when I wake up.”

The hatter felt something warm rise in his chest and he felt the need to say something that had been eating away at him ever since Alice had returned.

“Alice,” he said softly, watching as she turned towards him, looking into his eyes that he knew would have turned a mixture of gray and blue by now. “I feel like I need to say this, because I’m not sure what will happen after this day. I’ve been wanting to tell you this for so long, but I haven’t found the right time. You’re either too small or too big and as this is the first time you’ve been the right size, but now I don’t know to say it..” he rambled.

“Hatter!” Alice called out, her hands gripping his face gently.

“I’m fine thanks.” he muttered, his eyes locking onto hers.

“Hatter?” she questioned softly, a confused look on her face. “Why are your eyes blue? I haven’t seen them look like that before. Are you alright?”

He laughs at her question, a wide smile crossing his face. His hand reached up to cup her cheek, his thumb rubbed over her soft skin.

“I’m perfectly fine Alice.” he murmured softly, leaning forward and brushing his lips against hers. He heard her gasp, but felt her lips move against his. He took that as an invitation and wrapped his other arm around her waist, letting his hat fall to the ground.

He pulled her against him and kissed her deeply, letting his tongue taste the sweetness of her mouth.

Alice pulled back after a minute. Her cheeks were flushed and she looked more confused than before.

“Ah..this is..um..” She stepped away from him, shifting nervously.

“It’s alright, it’s just a dream, right Alice?” he told her, smiling at her. Alice smiled hesitantly at him, then moved closer and patted his cheek softly.

“I..will still miss you very much Hatter.”

He placed his hand on top of hers, feeling that warmth rise in him once again.

“I’ll miss you as well Alice.”

The two of them then leaned against the railing together, getting ready for Frabjous Day, each in their own ways.


Author Unknown
4 Comments
The Three Loves
Posted:Nov 20, 2023 5:57 pm
Last Updated:Nov 24, 2023 3:36 am
561 Views



The beginning of anything is simply trying ….


It’s been said that we really only fall in love with three people in our lifetime. Yet, it’s said that we need each of these loves for a different reason.

Often our first is when we are young, high school even. It’s the idealistic love; the one that seems like the fairytales we all read as . It’s a love that looks right.

The second is supposed to be our hard love; the one that teaches us lessons about who we are and how we often want or need to be loved. Sometimes it’s unhealthy, unbalanced or narcissistic even. It’s the love that we wished was right.

And the third is the love we never see coming. The one that usually comes dressed as all wrong for us and that destroys any lingering ideals we clung to about what love is supposed to be. It’s the love that just feels right.

Maybe we don’t all experience these loves in this lifetime; but perhaps that’s just because we aren’t ready to. Possibly maybe we need a whole lifetime to learn or maybe if we’re lucky it only takes a few years.

And there may be those people who fall in love once and find it passionately lasts until their last breath. Someone once told me they are the lucky ones; and perhaps they are.

But I kinda think that those who make it to their third love are really the lucky ones. They are the ones who are tired of having to try and whose broken hearts lay beating in front of them wondering if there is just something inherently wrong with how they love. But there’s not. It’s just a matter of if someone loves in the same way that they do or not.

And maybe there’s something special about our first love, and something heartbreakingly unique about our second .. but there’s also just something about our third. The one we never see coming. The one that actually lasts. The one that shows us why it never worked out before.

And it’s that possibility that makes trying again always worthwhile. Because the truth is you never know when you’ll stumble into love.


Kate Rose



10 Comments
The Winds Journal
Posted:Nov 18, 2023 2:49 pm
Last Updated:Nov 19, 2023 6:46 pm
578 Views


Do you remember the night
The moon dropped from the sky?
And we ran through the forest to find where it lie
I was tripping on tree roots and slipping on snow
You were holding my hand saying not to let go
When we found it at last there were twigs in our hair
A rose on our cheeks and our breath in the air
And the words to describe it got caught in our throats
As its silver light danced through the threads of our coats
We knew that our eyes had not seen such a view
You were looking at it
I was looking at you


Erin Hanson



8 Comments
The Porch Steps
Posted:Nov 17, 2023 5:39 pm
Last Updated:Nov 19, 2023 6:52 pm
556 Views



Our story tonight is called The Porch Steps, and it’s a story about tending to a satisfying chore on a cool day. It’s also about acorns scattered on the sidewalk, the scent of a wood fire on a cool night, a daydream about the wind, and stepping back to take in a job well done.

The leaves were turning but had not yet begun to fall. Well there were a few gathered around the fence posts and scattered over the lawn but when I looked up, I saw thousands upon thousands still waving in the branches above. And there were plenty of trees that were resolutely green, their time having not yet come. I like that. When I look out on a line of trees and spot many that haven’t begun to turn yet, it means there is still so much autumn beauty ahead. I even have my favourite spots .. favourite trees that I go out of my way to visit every October - their colours so spectacular that their locations are marked on the treasure map in my mind. My own street was lovely .. bright red maples, ruddy brown oaks and yellow sycamores and aspens. Across the street was a still green hickory tree with a Virginia Creeper climbing its branches. The vines wove around the trunk and up and around the boughs and its leaves were already deep red. Together they gave the effect of a tree whose hair colour needed some touching up. A bushy green mop lined with ruby roots. I admired it from my front porch as I rolled up the sleeves of my flannel shirt.

The day was cool and overcast but with no rain predicted. A perfect day to take care of a chore I’d been meaning to get to for awhile now. My front steps needed a fresh coat of paint and in the cool autumn air I found a hint of humidity. The paint would dry quickly and my pumpkins could be back in place before sundown. I started by sweeping my whole porch. I didn’t want random bits of mulch and helicopter seeds blowing into my paint job. So I took my broom and started in the far corner. I swept under the porch swing, stopping to pick up the rug and shaking it out over the railing. I watched as a few twigs and blades of grass caught in the wind. They drifted, making the breeze suddenly visible and I daydreamed for a moment about what it might look like if every flurry of air and zephyr were a colour. Each a different colour. If we could watch them swirl and blend and blow. I wondered what a blizzard might look like if the bluster itself were deep blue or sparkling silver. I thought I might pick up my watercolours later and try to bring it to life.

I left the rug hanging and went back to sweeping. I worked up a pile, being sure to dig into the cracks between the floorboards and to skim the cobwebs from under the bottom railing. Then I swept the dust and debris down the steps themselves and kept brushing away until the boards were bare and clean. I swept down the front walk, gathering a few leaves as I went until I could push my little pile into the street. In this neighbourhood, big trucks came by every couple of weeks and picked up leaves. My neighbour’s young was thrilled by the trucks and she and her dad would stand out in the yard watching as the leaves were sucked up by a giant hose .. the little girl shrieking and clapping. It was convenient, and for her, quite entertaining .. but I had grown up in a farmhouse at the end of a gravel road and missed the smell of burning leaves that had been raked into a ditch. With the city pickup, it was better. The leaves would be mulched and in the spring anyone could go to the lot out by the train depot and take home some of the mulch. Still, I thought I might have a fire in the fireplace tonight with the good seasoned applewood I had in the garage and then come out here and sit on the porch in the cold night air and smell the mix of smoke and autumn spice.

Back at the porch I readied my paintbrush, taking it out of its sleeve and fanning the bristles against my fingers (why does that feel so good?) and brushed it over my palm, feeling the flat, even tips of the lined up filaments, then tucked the brush into my back pocket and squatted down to open the paint can. When I was a and we were starting a new painting project, I always tagged along to the hardware store. I liked to watch the paint be made up. Now I think it’s all done by a computer but back then there was a system which, while it was likely less exact and the paint didn’t always match perfectly, was much more interesting to watch. There were tall metal devices where the person behind the counter would line dials up to get the right amount of each pigment and then press a lever to release it all into the can. On the surface of the paint you’d just see a dot of blue or red or yellow floating in the thicker white and think “oh, that’ll never be the colour we picked.” But after it had gone into the shaker and come out again, some would be spread out onto the sample card and show that sure enough, the peachy pink - was peachy pink. I smiled remembering those days as I wedged a paint can opener into the seam of the lid and pried it open. The porch was a deep dark blue, and the steps would match. The colour reminded me of the sky, just at gloaming - or a lake on a cloudy day. I found it a homey welcoming colour and whenever I turned onto my street and spotted my porch framed with birch trees and hydrangeas, I always felt so happy to be home.

I decided to paint from top to bottom thinking I could spend some time tidying up the garage while waiting for it to dry. I sat myself down on a lower step and dipped my brush in the deep navy paint. It was satisfying work to watch the colour soak up into the wood, to spread it cleanly and evenly into place. Step by step I worked my way down to the front walk and when I finished I balanced the brush across the mouth of the can and stepped back to take in my progress. The top step was already a bit lighter. The paint was drying quickly and would need a second coat. Until then I’d fiddle around in the garage and back gardens. Acorns were falling on the sidewalk and my neighbour and his were adding to the fairy garden around the roots of the cottonwood in their yard. At the corner a cat was stretched out on a garden bench and in downtown Nothing Much, orange twinkle lights were being strung around the lamp posts. Across the village, folks were welcoming the fall.


Kathryn Nicolai
Nothing Much Happens



6 Comments
Until Forever
Posted:Nov 4, 2023 6:56 pm
Last Updated:Nov 6, 2023 4:59 pm
1168 Views



You cannot forget love; it’s impossible.


8 Comments
Bringer of Magic
Posted:Oct 21, 2023 7:46 am
Last Updated:Oct 25, 2023 2:49 am
3745 Views



It is said that the eyes of black cats represent the doors that lead to the realm of spirits. They also have the ability to walk through both worlds, that of the living .. and that of the dead.



3 Comments
Midnight Magic
Posted:Oct 17, 2023 7:41 pm
Last Updated:Oct 19, 2023 10:50 am
4196 Views



I put a spell on you …


Ba-ya-ya, ba-da, ba-da-da-da, ba-ya-ya
Ba-ya-ya, ba-da, ba-da-da-da, ba-ya-ya
Ba-ya-ya, ba-da, ba-da-da-da, ba-ya-ya
Ba-ya-ya, ba-da, ba-da-da-da, ba-ya-ya

There used to be a greying tower alone on the sea
You became the light on the dark side of me
Love remained a drug that’s the high and not the pill
But did you know that when it snows
My eyes become large and
The light that you shine can’t be seen

Baby, I compare you to a kiss from a rose on the grey
Ooh, the more I get of you, the stranger it feels, yeah
And now that your rose is in bloom
A light hits the gloom on the grey

Ba-ya-ya, ba-da, ba-da-da-da, ba-ya-ya
Ba-ya-ya, ba-da, ba-da-da-da, ba-ya-ya

There is so much a man can tell you, so much he can say
You remain, my power, my pleasure, my pain
Baby, to me, you’re like a growing addiction that I can’t deny
Won’t you tell me, is that healthy, baby?
But did you know that when it snows
My eyes become large and
The light that you shine can’t be seen

Baby, I compare you to a kiss from a rose on the grey
Ooh, the more I get of you, the stranger it feels, yeah (yeah)
Now that your rose is in bloom
A light hits the gloom on the grey

I’ve been kissed by a rose on the grey
I’ve been kissed by a rose on the grey
And if I should fall, will it all go away?
I’ve been kissed by a rose on the grey

There is so much a man can tell you, so much he can say
You remain, my power, my pleasure, my pain
To me, you’re like a growing addiction that I can’t deny
Now won’t you tell me, is that healthy, baby?
But did you know that when it snows
My eyes become large and
The light that you shine can’t be seen

Baby, I compare you to a kiss from a rose on the grey
Ooh, the more I get of you, the stranger it feels, yeah
And now that your rose is in bloom
A light hits the gloom on the grey

Yes, I compare you to a kiss from a rose on the grey
Ooh, teh more I get of you the stranger it feels yeah
Now that your rose is in bloom,
A light hits the gloom on the grey

Ba-ya-ya, ba-da, ba-da-da-da, ba-ya-ya

Now that your rose is in bloom
A light hits the gloom on the grey


Kiss From A Rose
Seal



4 Comments
October Shadows
Posted:Oct 17, 2023 6:35 pm
Last Updated:Oct 25, 2023 9:13 pm
4290 Views



”Most people will tell you growing up means you stop believing in Halloween things - I’m telling you the reverse. You start to grow up when you understand that the stuff that scares you is part of the air you breathe.”


Urban legend or portal to another world? The Elevator Game purports to blur the lines of reality for players, if they follow the rules and don’t make a potentially fatal mistake. One disturbing case has caught the attention of believers - and skeptics.

The last known video of Elisa Lam alive showed her in an elevator in the Cecil Hotel. Days later, her body was found in the hotel’s water tank. To this day, nobody knows how she died or how her body got there.

The video is strange, to say the least. Unsettling if you watch it a few times. No one could make sense of what exactly happened to Elisa Lam until conspiracy theorists and paranormal fanatics zeroed in on one dubious explanation; an urban legend called the Elevator Game.

The Elevator Game - or “The Elevator to Another World” - is not for the faint of heart. Originating in Korea and Japan, it’s essentially a step-by-step ritual that is believed by some to blur the lines of reality. Although the exact dates of its origin are unknown, the game probably hasn’t been around for very long, and some posts regarding game outcomes date back only to 2011.

Not surprisingly, the popularity of the Elevator Game has been powerfully influenced by online accounts of it. And, as too often happens, it has become even more widely known as the alleged cause of a tragedy; the death of Elisa Lam. We’ll explore her case a little later, but first let’s take a look at the rules of the game.

There are many steps to playing (and surviving) the Elevator Game, and, as we’ve been warned, it’s imperative that you follow them precisely and in the exact order. In this game, you will need at least one “player” and an elevator in a building with a minimum of 10 floors. Here’s how to play.

Step 1: Let’s say you’re the player. You enter an elevator, alone or with another player. No outsider can enter the elevator with you, nor can you leave at any point. If you do exit the elevator, you must start over.

Step 2: Then, you ride the elevator from floor to floor in a specific sequence: up to the 4th floor, down to the 2nd floor, up to the 6th floor, back down to the 2nd floor, up to the 10th floor, and then down to the 5th floor. Remember not to get off at any of the floors.

Step 3: When you get to the 5th floor, if you encounter a mysterious woman, DO NOT look at her and do not answer or interact with her in any way. The consequences of engaging with her are said to include the possibility of never returning to the real world.

Step 4: Now, push the button to descend from the 5th floor to the 1st floor, Here’s where they say things could get crazy. If the elevator operates normally and takes you to the 1st floor, exit immediately and do not look back or talk to anyone. But if, instead of taking you from the 5th to the 1st floor, the elevator begins to go up … well, congratulations, you’re being allowed into another world. Or so they say. Alternatively, you might resist the urge to freak out, and instead simply press the emergency button and wait for the Fire Department to arrive with help.

So now you know how to punch your ticket to this portal to another world. Elevator Game believers say all sorts of things might happen at this point. Things might look different. It might be dark and spooky, and the power might be out, and no one else will be around. Some players have even claimed that they looked out the window and saw only a red cross in the distance. You might even lose consciousness, they say.

If you’re like me, though, probably the thing you’d want most in that situation is to know how to get home. Well, Elevator Game aficionados have an answer for how to return, too.

The way home has several steps, all of which players say you must follow exactly, lest you get stuck in that other world. Here they are:

Step 1: To get back to our world , the rules say you must get on the same elevator you rode before. Finding it might be a problem, but intrepid believers advise that you keep searching until you find it.

Step 2: Once you enter the elevator again, move from floor to floor in exactly the same sequence you did originally 4-2-6-2-10-5.

Step 3: Upon reaching the 5th floor, press the button to the 1st floor.

Step 4: If the elevator starts ascending again, quickly press the button for any other floor before you reach the 10th floor. Or, as I’ve suggested before, you can simply press the emergency button, have a seat, and wait for help to arrive. I hope you don’t suffer from claustrophobia.

So, now that we’re safe back home, maybe it’s time to consider the notorious case of a young woman who some believe was playing the game when she met her untimely end.

So, what are we to make of what happened to Elisa Lam? Here’s what we know.

Elisa was staying at the Cecil Hotel in Los Angeles, but her parents became concerned when they didn’t hear from her on the day she was supposed to check out. They notified the authorities, and an investigation ensued. Police couldn’t find any trace of Elisa, except for an eerie video of her behaving erratically in the hotel’s elevator. In the video, Lam is seen stepping into and out of the elevator several times, seemingly talking to someone who wasn’t there, frantically pushing many of the elevator buttons, making gestures with her hands, and looking around in a paranoid fashion. Through all of this, the elevator stayed in place and its doors never closed. After Elisa’s body was discovered, naked and dead, in a water tank on the hotel’s roof, theories abounded. Was she experiencing some kind of psychotic episode? Was there someone nearby but not captured by the security camera? Was Elisa playing the Elevator Game?

Although Lam’s autopsy was inconclusive in determining her manner of death, the Los Angeles County Coroner’s Office found that she probably drowned by accident. The police went a little further and highlighted the fact that Elisa suffered from bipolar disorder, leading investigators to believe Elisa’s death was a classic case of a mental breakdown leading to a tragic end.

But of course, Elevator Game believers weren’t going to buy such a rational - if incomplete - explanation. Not surprisingly, Elevator Game believers were convinced that Elisa was playing the game. She must have broken the critical rule not to interact with the woman in Step 3, they said. Worse, she might have been transported to another world at that point - and been prevented from returning alive to her normal world.

As for hard evidence, the believers don’t have any more than the LAPD. So, what are we to think? Maybe someone will find something on her computer that shows Elisa was into the Elevator Game. Or maybe an investigator will figure out how her body got into the water tank. But for me, neither theory is completely satisfactory. In the meantime, when I need to get from the street to the upper floor of a building, I’ve got no problem taking the elevator - except maybe on Halloween.


Kellyn Doerr



11 Comments
In the End
Posted:Sep 29, 2023 12:59 pm
Last Updated:Oct 3, 2023 7:18 pm
5684 Views



”But nothing can save you. Not your friends, not the best Fred Astaire musical you’ve ever seen - the grace of it, not your mother’s beauty, not a line from a letter you find at the bottom of a drawer, not a magazine or the next day. Nothing can save you. And you stand in the moonlight and a sweetness comes off the top of the trees, and the fence around the yard seals you off from the dark and you can’t breathe. It is all so familiar and possible. It is too simple that there is this much good in the world and you don’t know how to have it. And it makes you wonder when it was you lost your place. Then you catch a breeze, so warm and ripe, it makes you hope that someone will come who also cannot save you, but who will think you are worth saving.”

~~ From Noah’s Wall- 1/31/04



5 Comments

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