Kelpie short story

The girl is three years old. She is precious, the kelpie thought as he followed the boat. The tiny little girl sat on her mother's lap as the father moved the oars back and forth through the river. Her sing song voice told her parents about the pretty black horse hiding in the water. The father just laughed but the mother looked somewhat uncomfortable. As well she should, the Kelpie thought. It had been years since the woman had returned to her family home in Scotland, she had all but abandoned her heritage for the american man she now called husband. Oh what fun it would be to pull him beneath the water's surface... watching his breath leave him in a parade of tiny bubbles.

"Can I pet him?" asked the child, eagerly pulling away from the mother towards the edge of the boat.
"Sure sweetie," the father said through his chuckles, "But let's get to the shore first." He smile fell a bit when he caught sight of his young wife's stern face.

"No." She said firmly. She turned the child to face her, holding the little face in both hands.  "You must never pet the black horse in the water. Kelpies are not nice." She looked deeply into the little pools of amber on the now pouting face, eyes that matched her own. She released the girl  satisfied that the child understood. The husband on the other hand, did not.

"What's the big deal?" H asked, his tone held slight irritation.

"When my father bought this land, he was told it was cursed. Over twenty people had drowned in the river that ran across the property and no would go near it. So my parent being as superstitious as they were, did research and came to believe a Kelpie guarded the area." Her unease pleased the kelpie, it meant she remembered everything.

"What is a Kelpie?" The husband asked, his tone implying she was foolish to believe in whater it was.

"Its a nature spirit.... a faerie of sorts." The husband snorted, interrupting her, but she continued on. "They appear as black horses and live in lakes or rivers. They are known drown people and eat them." At that the husband laughed outright, seeming unaware that his toddler was staring past him intently, smiling at the dark creature directly behind her father.

"Faeries? Don't tell me you believe in the-" He grunted as one of the oars was almost ripped from his grasp. "Must have hit a rock...." He muttered. He looked at the alarm on hi wife's face. "What?"

"Don't disrespect them. My family owns this land, as such the kelpie is less inclined to harm us... but if you insult it then-"

"Nothing." The husband cut her off, seemingly fed up with the conversation. They breached the shore and he got out, pulling the canoe deeper into the sand. "Nothing will happen. They don't exist and frankly i never knew you were so superstitious." His tone conveyed his disdain and disapproval so the wife didn't continue. She merely looked out over the river anxiously, holding her wiggling daughter closer to her. Stupid man.... thought the kelpie, but he was glad that the young woman hadn't forgotten about him. Looking over her mother's shoulders, she waved happily to the black horse waiting in the water.
-------

 The girl is now a few years older. She thinks about how the funeral had been over very quickly. She looked out of her bedroom window to the river that had claimed her father's life. She was both sad, angry, and grateful for the river. Despite the wishes of her father, her mother had continued to teach her to respect it, lest she anger the kelpie that lived there. She often enjoyed the late night stories of faeries and elves. Still young, she didn't understand why her father would get so mad at her mother for telling her stories, but she did remember them fighting a lot.

One day she and her mother had been walking along the riverbank when they found some trash that had been thrown in.. one of her father's bear cans. He had been napping at the picnic area and they took the time to enjoy the quiet, but seeing the litter agitated her mother.

"Remember love," her mother had said as she waded into the river, her pants rolled up to her knees. "Don't throw trash into the river. Always put it in the trash can." She grabbed the can from the water and made her way back to the girl. With the can in one hand, and the other holding the child's, they made their way back to the picnic. Suddenly she had a thought.

"Mum!" She said, hastily grabbing the picnic basket and running for the water. Before her om could stop her she through the entire thing into the water. Hearing her call out, the father awoke from his nap. He blinked in confusion and then grew angry, as he usually did after drinking.

"Why the hell would you do that!" He roared, getting up. Quickly the wife stepped in front of the child and tried to calm down her husband. "Shut up." He grunted. With his ful angry gaze on the child she began to cry. Quickly the mother dropped down and held her.

"Why did you throw the food in the water?" She asked her daughter gently.
"The kelpie... you said it eats people but no one had drowned in years, so i thought that he might be hungry." She sniffled. The wife embraced her, half to comfort her and half to shield her from the rage she knew would come from her husband. It was after that moment the fighting began to become constant.

-----
A knock on the door brought the girl out of her memory and back into her room as her mother entered. Without waiting to see what her mom wanted to say she blurted out what she had been questioning since she first heard about her father's death. "Did the kelpie kill him?" she asked.
The mom's face froze and she bent her head in shame. Without a word she nodded. The girl looked at her mother, who seemed more guilty than sad. She wanted to ask why, but although she was still just a child, she could sense that it wasn't something her mother would be able to answer at the moment.

That night  she snuck out of her room and went to the river. Although she had never seen the kelpie after the first canoe ride, she remembered him very clearly. Her mother had been afraid but she didn't see why. She tried to conjure up his image, wondering if he was watching now.

"Kelpie!" she called, hoping he could hear her. She didn't want to wake her mother but she had questions and figured it was better to go to the source. When nothing happened she rolled up her pajama pants and walked into the water. It was cold against her ankles but she liked it. Because of the kelpie she wasn't allowed to be in the water alone, but she now she and it wasn't scary at all. She began to splash around, loving the way that the water made waves where her feet landed.

She heard a sound behind her and turned. Nothing. There was only the river, quietly continuing on its course. Having remembered the picnic before hand, she pulled out a sandwich and tossed it as far as she could. Maybe food would make the kelpie come out?

child, what are you doing? a voice floated through her head. It wasn't a voice she heard with her ears but she heard it nonetheless. Looking around, but she couldn't see anything.

"Hello?" she asked, suddenly a little scared. She stopped splashing, and stood very still. Squinting her eyes she tried to see where he was. Her mother had taught her that even though they were horses, kelpies could talk. Since she heard his voice she knew he had to be close by. When she never got a response she walked a little deeper into the water. It was up to her knees now, and her pajamas were starting to get wet.

You're mother will be cross if she find you out here. He said amused. He looked at the girl, she was so small... he tilted his head when he saw her shiver. He was half tempted to stand next to her, so that his body heat would warm her, but decided against it. It was clear the girl had come for a reason, to prevent prolonged exposure to the cold climate he bluntly asked, What do you want child?

"Why did you kill my father?" she asked, her voice shook from fear, but her stance was defiant. The kelpie felt pride, and then puzzlement. Why did this girl stir such emotions within him? He wanted her out of the cold water so he answered her without remorse.

He angered me. He said matter-of -factly. The girl didn't know what kind of response she was expecting, but the hurt and anger she felt overwhelmed her. She never thought to ask how her father angered the kelpie, if she had then he would have told her about the bruises he had seen on the mother. The girl knew her father was an angry drunk, but the kelpie knew him to be a violent one. In her innocent ignorance, the girl kicked the water in greif and ran back to the house. The kelpie watched her go, pondering the feelings of grief. All things die... why was it so hard to part with them? The girl did not return to the river for several years.


The girl is now a teenager. She is celebrating her sixteenth birthday with her boyfriend and several friends. In the thrall of the party, she and the boy sneak off by the river. At first they are kissing and laughing and all is well. The kelpie sees them but feels no indication to interfere or make his presence known. He remains a bystander until he hears the girl's tone of voice change. She sounds agitated so he comes nearer, his curiosity turning to rage when he hears her voice turn fearful.

"I said stop!" The girl cried, her boyfriend roughly holder down on the river bank. They had both been drinking and she knew he wasn't thinking clearly, but still she felt afraid. He simply grunts and wrestles to get on top of her. She struggles but knows she is no match for him. She closes her eyes and feels tears slip down her cheeks when suddenly his weight is gone. Instead she hears a choking sound. Opening her eyes she sees a naked man infront of her, holding her drunken boyfriend off the ground by the throat.

He is a beautiful man. His build is tall and firm with the well defined muscles of a swimmer. He has a mop of black wavy hair and strong, sharp jawline. He turns his gaze from the struggling boy in his vice like grip, and looks down at her. His eyes are black and as deep as the river they are beside. She can see deadly rage there, in the black pools, and yet the soften when they meet her own. She knows immediately who this man is; the kelpie. Faeries, kelpies included, had the ability to appear human for short amounts of time. She had seen, nor heard, from him in years since her father's death and yet in a moment of crisis he appeared to her aid. The moment the realization hits her, all feelings of fear disappear.

"Go back to the party, child." He says, his voice strong and heavily Scottish. She can hear his anger and knows instantly that the boy wriggling and gasping for air was not long for this world. She cast a hesitant look to the boy who only moments before would have violated her, wondering is she should say something to save him. "Go back, child. Forget what you have seen." His voice sounded in her ears and she knew she should obey.

The boy's body was found a day later down river. Although the cause of death was drowning, the coroner was puzzled at what kind of scavenger had gotten a hold of the boy's corpse. Although he had only been dead for a day, half of his body had been eaten by some sort of animal. Despite half of the skin missing, the fear was still frozen in the glazed eyes.

After that, the girl was considered cursed. Within a short time, she was soon without many friend and found herself very lonely. Not knowing why, she found herself standing on the riverbed, her toes sinking in the sandy mud. She knew she wasn't cursed, nor was her land. All the death and drownings had come from the kelpie...and yet she could not feel anger towards him. She had long since gotten over her father's death and this new killing had been done in order to save her. She smiled, and timidly called out to the creature. She never saw him, but it took only a minute for him to breach the water's surface to hear her.

Her days were soon filled with school work and stress from finding a job. She remained lonely but found solace in talking to the kelpie. He never spoke back, but she still continued to talk at him, day after day. It crossed her mind, that maybe he was as lonely as she was; this thought overcame her doubt and insured her daily return to the water's edge.



The girl is now a young woman. Her mother is ill and on her deathbed, tucked softly into bed, yet she can find no comfort. calling the girl to her, she says that she must confess something. When the girl asks what she is referring to, the mother makes her promise not to interrupt. Confused, the girl agrees.

"I....killed your father." The mother's now old feeble voice squeaks. "He was a very angry drunk, and he drank quite often. One night, after you had gone to bed he hit me. When he did it again, i went to the river and begged the kelpie for help." She tried to talk quickly, her guilt rushing to be released,  but had to gasp for breath. A single tear fell from her old amber eyes and the girl gently wiped it away. "If...If you ever need help.. got to him." She wheezed. The girl was confused; all her life the mother had told her to stay away from the kelpie and that he only brought death and bad luck. The girl said as much and was quieted by the painful look that crossed her dyeing mother's face.

"He...brings death." She said, her voice much quieter now. "But... he protects all those who he considers to belong in his territory." She closed her eyes and held her daughter's hand. "He saved my brother from drowning... he killed your father... life and death. Promise..."she huffed, her breathing growing shallow. The girl began to cry but promised. Nodding, the mother said she loved the girl and within minutes all was quiet; the old hand that held the girl's grew limp.

They buried the mother next to the father. The grief at losing her mother chased the girl away from her family home and she did not return for ten years.

The girl, now a mother, returns to Scotland. While gone, she grew into a successful woman. She married and had two children, a daughter and a son. Although they were in America, the girl made sure to teach her children all about the celtic faeries and their tricks. She even told them about the dangerous but mysterious kelpie. Her husband, soon jealous of her success, left her to raise both children alone. After the divorce the girl returned, eager to set eyes on the home and the river.

The girl was nervous to approach the river, after having been gone for so long. Holding the hands of both her children, she crept to the water's edge. Calling softly to the kelpie, she prayed he would see her. It took almost no time for the keplie to figure out who the beautiful woman was, although her face was older, he recognized his precious child. He held little resentment for her absence, although he had missed her greatly. Beautiful younglings, he said as he approached. Her knew she could not see him, but the youngest child, the boy of maybe two or three, did. The boy had his mother's amber eyes and the daughter had her long red hair; both children were beautiful to him as they reflected pieces of the girl.

Once satisfied that the kelpie had accepted her children she resettled into her childhood home. Unlike her mother, the girl taught her children to respect, but not fear the kelpie. She made a pact with the creature; in exchange for never leaving Scotland again, he would never harm her children or descendants. This did not prevent her from setting rules; like when she was young both children were never to swim in the river without her presence. She trusted the kelpie not to harm her children, but that didn't eliminate the natural threat the river posed for the young ones.


It was a summer day when the girl was making apple pies to surprise her children. It was her daughter's birthday and she, with friends, had been playing outside in the yard. While making the dough she had the sudden urge to check on the children. When she left the door way she was greeted by her daughter, who wore a look of pure terror.

"What is it!?" the girl snapped, fear seizing her heart. The daughter burst into tears and sobbed. Her younger brother had wandered away from the group while she was playing and had disappeared. Barking orders for all the children to go inside, the girl ran to the river. Calling out for he son, her frantic eyes scanned the river bank. She ran down, calling out, tears almost drowning out her screams. It wasn't until the heard a smooth deep voice say, come, that she allowed herself to breath. Running down the riverbed she found her boy playing in a shallow pool fed by runoff from the river.

"What have you been doing!?" she shouted, scoping him up in her arms. Her tears of relief ran freely as she hugged him to her heart, The boy sounded confused but answered his mother happily.

"I was playing with the horsie..." He giggled and waved behind her. Turning sharply, she scanned for any sign of the kelpie. Although she knew she would not see him, her eyes still searched. Quietly, her shaking voice thanked him. The kelpie looked at the girl, his precious girl, and smiled. He could not allow her son to drown. Although he had been trying to call one of the daughter's friends to the river, it was the boy who heard him. He resembled his mother to such an extent that the kelpie couldn't resist and allowed the boy onto his back. He almost regretted causing her such pain and worry, yet it had granted him sacred moments with her. He watched them return to the house, and resumed his tempting of the local children to his waters...

The girl is now an old woman. Surrounded by loved ones, she smiles. Bot of her children had brought home beautiful families. Her son, and his children had decided to move into the family home and she knew that the kelpie would continue to look after them. She knew she was dying, as did her family. They had all gathered, far and wide, to bid her farewell. Feeling more loved than she had her entire life, she quietly and slowly made her way out of the house. She glanced back at the home that had brought her years of joy and many tears. Her wonderful children would carry on its legacy and she would miss them terribly. With a tired sigh she made her way to the river.

"Kelpie." She called, her voice barely audible. It took a few more calls before he heard her. Rising instantly he faced her and knew her time was short. Child? He asked. For the first time in many years, his heart grew heavy as he looked into her beautiful amber eyes. Her red hair was now more gray with streaks of faded rose water. He still found her lovely and precious. She blinked and when her eyes opened she gasped. Before her was a noble black horse, with a mane that looked as thick as river weeds but soft as the water's surface. Just like when she was a babe, she had the urge to pet him.

Her feeble legs carried her further into the water, the current causing her to lose her balance. Before she could fall, the strong neck of the kelpie braced her and eased her back into balance. They stared at eachother for a long moment and both knew she would be gone soon. Her breathing was already labored as she struggled to remain upright. Bending down, he made himself as low as possible, allowing her to ease herself on top of him. Her hands griped his thick mane and he slid back into the deeper water. He carried her in the water, he smiling and even laughing as she rode him, until she was silent. He felt a piece of his heart break when her hands went limp and her body floated off of his back.

For the first time ever, the kelpie felt loss. The girl was dead. Her passing was peaceful and he took comfort in knowing she had seen him one last time before her soul parted with his. As per her will, when the family retreived the body, the girl was buried with her mother and father. Ten years later, when her body had time to decay but her bones remained, she had wished them to be cleaned. Her faithful son, who beheld her amber eyes, carried the bones to the river.

"She loved you." He said, his voice thick with emotion. He hoped that the kelpie had seen him and was watching now. He shook his head. His mother had always told him about the black faerie horse that lived in the river, yet he had no memory of him. His mother had wished that her bones would be brought to the kelpie and remain in the river that had unified them. Setting the bones down in the sand, he cast a final look at what once was his mother and returned to the house. It wasn't until nightfall that the kelpie approached his precious girl, and carried her into the river with him. There they remained for the rest of his days, together.

guardian angel short story... is a dud.

      She was such a happy soul. He always thought so and it was pleasantly obvious on this day. She had been having a good week, but alas that week was coming to an end. Already he could feel the tendrils of depression reaching out for her. It had been like this a while; a week of happiness with her soul unburdened followed by the slow decline of her mood and then a bout of depression that could last anywhere from a week to a month. It had been a battle they fought together over the years he had been watching her. 

       He smiled as he looked down on her; her feelings of joy bubbling in their chests as she laughed. He felt what she felt, they were connected by their souls. For now he would focus on her laugh, although he could already feel the hollowness creeping inside her. He sensed that this time was going to be a really hard one.  Being connected, he became very aware as he felt her mood plummet straight down out of nowhere. Alarmed he reached down and wrapped his arms around her. Sending waves of loving energy to her, he let out a sigh of relief; she was recovering just as quickly as she had fallen. Her friends around her knew nothing of her bipolar and didn't seem to notice how her laugh had gone from genuine to forced. He listened carefully, and gently backed away when he heard her go back to a safe level. He frowned a bit, concerned. This was the second time she had nearly been taken by the depression in just as many days. Which meant things were getting worse. 

     His wings began to tingle, meaning she wanted to say something to him. Being human meant that she would probably never see him, but she was a very spiritually aware girl. Ever since he had first made contact with her, pulling her from another sudden pit of depression, she had been diligent in communicating with him. He mused about how proud he had been when he found her researching techniques for communing with guardian angels. His heart swelled as he thought about all the late nights she had stayed up just talking to him, despite knowing she wouldn't hear his response. The different techniques... the meditations...

    His wings twinged again so he looked over her shoulder to find her writing him a poem of gratitude. He felt his entire being melt with love, and saw her smile as she felt it too. She was such a sweet girl. It saddened him that such a bright soul had to fight off such strong bouts of darkness. But she would never be alone, this he swore with every fiber of his being.She had many fears, but he made sure that she knew he was always there - they were forever connected. 

----------------------------------

i'm just not feeling it. 

WHAT AM I GOING TO WRITE.

the second short story is due FRIDAY.

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

William James Paper Notes

wiki james

• as an American philosopher and psychologist who was also trained as a physician. The first educator to offer a psychology course in the United States,[3] James was one of the leading thinkers of the late nineteenth century and is believed by many to be one of the most influential philosophers the United States has ever produced, while others have labelled him the "Father of American psychology"
• associated with the philosophical school known as pragmatism, and is also cited as one of the founders of functional psychology.
•  Among his most influential books are The Principles of Psychology, which was a groundbreaking text in the field of psychology, Essays in Radical Empiricism, an important text in philosophy, and The Varieties of Religious Experience, which investigated different forms of religious experience, which also included the then theories on Mind cure.^[9]

James did important work in philosophy of religion. In his Gifford Lectures at the University of Edinburgh he provided a wide-ranging account of The Varieties of Religious Experience (1902) and interpreted them according to his pragmatic leanings. Some of the important claims he makes in this regard:

• • Religious genius (experience) should be the primary topic in the study of religion, rather than religious institutions—since institutions are merely the social descendant of genius.
  • The intense, even pathological varieties of experience (religious or otherwise) should be sought by psychologists, because they represent the closest thing to a microscope of the mind—that is, they show us in drastically enlarged form the normal processes of things.
  • In order to usefully interpret the realm of common, shared experience and history, we must each make certain "over-beliefs" in things which, while they cannot be proven on the basis of experience, help us to live fuller and better lives.
  • Religious Mysticism is only one half of mysticism, the other half is composed of the insane and both of these are co-located in the 'great subliminal or transmarginal region'.
  
  
• He concluded that while the revelations of the mystic hold true, they hold true only for the mystic; for others, they are certainly ideas to be considered, but can hold no claim to truth without personal experience of such. American Philosophy: An Encyclopedia classes him as one of several figures who "took a more pantheist or pandeist approach by rejecting views of God as separate from the world.
• Through his philosophy of pragmatism William James justifies religious beliefs by using the results of his hypothetical venturing as evidence to support the hypothesis' truth. Therefore, this doctrine allows one to assume belief in a god and prove its existence by what the belief brings to one's life.

wiki his book - varieties of rel exp

• James was most interested in direct religious experiences. Theology and the organizational aspects of religion were of secondary interest. He believed that religious experiences were simply human experiences ("Religious happiness is happiness. Religious trance is trance.").^[4]

  He believed that religious experiences can have "morbid origins" ^[5] in brain pathology and can be irrational but nevertheless are largely positive. Unlike the bad ideas that people have under the influence of a high fever, after a religious experience the ideas and insights usually remain and are often valued for the rest of the person's life.^[6]

  Under James’ pragmatism, the effectiveness of religious experiences proves their truth, whether they stem from religious practices or from drugs ("Nitrous oxide ... stimulate[s] the mystical consciousness in an extraordinary degree."^[7]).

  James had relatively little interest in the legitimacy or illegitimacy of religious experiences. Further, despite James' examples being almost exclusively drawn from Christianity, he did not mean to limit his ideas to any single religion. Religious experiences are something that people sometimes have under certain conditions. In James' description, these conditions are likely to be psychological or pharmaceutical rather than cultural.

stanford encycopedia

• His interest is not in religious institutions, ritual, or, even for the most part, religious ideas, but in “the feelings, acts, and experiences of individual men in their solitude, so far as they apprehend themselves to stand in relation to whatever they may consider the divine” 
• James later wrote that he should have called the essay “the right to believe,” to indicate his intent to justify holding certain beliefs in certain circumstances, not to claim that we can (or should) believe things simply by an act of will.
• ames sets out a central distinction of the book in early chapters on “The Religion of Healthy-Mindedness” and “The Sick Soul.” The healthy-minded religious person — Walt Whitman is one of James's main examples — has a deep sense of “the goodness of life,” (V, 79) and a soul of “sky-blue tint” (V, 80). Healthy-mindedness can be involuntary, just natural to someone, but often comes in more willful forms. Liberal Christianity, for example, represents the triumph of a resolute devotion to healthy-mindedness over a morbid “old hell-fire theology” (V, 91). James also cites the “mind-cure movement” of Mary Baker Eddy, for whom “evil is simply a lie, and any one who mentions it is a liar” (V, 107). For “The Sick Soul,” in contrast, “radical evil gets its innings” (V, 163). No matter how secure one may feel, the sick soul finds that “[u]nsuspectedly from the bottom of every fountain of pleasure, as the old poet said, something bitter rises up: a touch of nausea, a falling dead of the delight, a whiff of melancholy….” These states are not simply unpleasant sensations, for they bring “a feeling of coming from a deeper region and often have an appalling convincingness” (V, 136).  James's main examples are Leo Tolstoy's “My Confession,” John Bunyan's autobiography, and a report of terrifying “dread” — allegedly from a French correspondent but actually from James himself. Some sick souls never get well, while others recover or even triumph: these are the “twice-born.”
• he criticizes reductive forms of materialism for denying to “our most intimate powers…all relevancy in universal affairs” (WB 71). 
• Varieties' classic chapter on “Mysticism” offers “four marks which, when an experience has them, may justify us in calling it mystical…” (V, 380). The first is ineffability: “it defies expression…its quality must be directly experienced; it cannot be imparted or transferred to others.” Second is a “noetic quality”: mystical states present themselves as states of knowledge. Thirdly, mystical states are transient; and, fourth, subjects are passive with respect to them: they cannot control their coming and going. Are these states, James ends the chapter by asking, “windows through which the mind looks out upon a more extensive and inclusive world[?]” (V, 428).

Wiki the will to belive

• In section V, James makes a distinction between a skepticism about truth and its attainment and what he calls "dogmatism": "that truth exists, and that our minds can find it". Concerning dogmatism, James states that it has two forms; that there is an "absolutist way" and an "empiricist way" of believing in truth. James states: "The absolutists in this matter say that we not only can attain to knowing truth, but we can know when we have attained to knowing it, while the empiricists think that although we may attain it, we cannot infallibly know when." James then goes on to state that "the empiricist tendency has largely prevailed in science, while in philosophy the absolutist tendency has had everything its own way".
•  

Internet encyclopedia

• James states that if we track the dynamic of mental activity, we discern a standard pattern from sensation to perception to imagination to belief.  Through sensation, we become acquainted with some given fact.  This can, but need not, lead to knowledge about that fact, achieved by perceiving its relations to other given facts.  Both sensation and perception involve an immediate intuition of some given objects.  Imagination, less immediate, retrieves mental copies of past sensations and perceptions, even when their external stimuli are no longer present.  Belief is the sense or feeling that ideas or propositions formed in the imagination correspond to reality. 

Belief - sanford and james wiki and internet encyclopedia
Skeptic - wiki will to belive
Absolutist - will to believe
Empiricist -  will to belive
Reductionism - sanford
Healthy-minded person - sanford
Morbid Minded person - https://www.jstor.org/stable/25670442?seq=1#page_scan_tab_contents -53
Conversion Experience - ????
Mystical State - stanford



Links:
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Varieties_of_Religious_Experience
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/William_James
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Will_to_Believe
http://plato.stanford.edu/entries/james/#5
http://www.iep.utm.edu/james-o/

Alive haha

I'm alive. No flooding or storm damage.

Lots of work due for school.

So... much....

But all is mostly well.

rainy and sunny

so today is rainy and sunny.

outside it is rainy and cloudy

but i am sunny.

I feel light and playful, i feel flirty and mischievous...

i feel like my usual y happy go lucky faerie self :) (my summer seelie fae if you will ;) )

Bipolar Personal Essay - the beginning/thoughts

https://docs.google.com/document/d/1revB0HcQvuk4cG-4tyIdU8C5xnYF4kIkitPOXfx1ajM/edit?usp=sharing

storm has passed

i woke up better today.

no heavy weight.

i even feel playful.

the storm has passed

at least for now :)

I need help

Things are getting worse.

I'm so tired.

Mentally and emotionally.... It's manifesting physically.

I'm so tired.

I want to give in, but I know I can't.

So tired...

Rage

Tonight a certain cashier cost the store over 2800 dollars. 

I don't know if the cashier is just that ducking stupid or if she was in on it. 

She is  garunteed to be fired.

But.

If Sarah, the supervisor, gets fired because of this? If I get in trouble because of this?

Rage.

I feel rage. 

I want to hurt her.

I can practically feel my hands around her throat. 

Rage.