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Who kissed Sleeping Beauty???

Since I promised S.H  I would get off my frozen derriere and write a post today, here’s a copy and paste of the most interesting thing I read today:

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I wonder if that's the prince leaning in to kiss her or the king.... and

I wonder if that's the prince leaning in to kiss her or the king.... and

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From “Top 10 Gruesome Fairy Tale Origins

Fairy tales of the past were often full of macabre and gruesome twists and endings. These days, companies like Disney have sanitized them for a modern audience that is clearly deemed unable to cope, and so we see happy endings everywhere. This list looks at some of the common endings we are familiar with – and explains the original gruesome origins.

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My favorite one is number 6 “Sleeping Beauty”

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In the original sleeping beauty, the lovely princess is put to sleep when she pricks her finger on a spindle. She sleeps for one hundred years when a prince finally arrives, kisses her, and awakens her. They fall in love, marry, and (surprise surprise) live happily ever after. But alas, the original tale is not so sweet (in fact, you have to read this to believe it.) In the original, the young woman is put to sleep because of a prophesy, rather than a curse. And it isn’t the kiss of a prince which wakes her up: the king seeing her asleep, and rather fancying having a bit, rapes her. After nine months she gives birth to two children (while she is still asleep). One of the children sucks her finger which removes the piece of flax which was keeping her asleep. She wakes up to find herself raped and the mother of two kids.

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First thougth after reading this:

1. Dear God, I am thankful for the existence of censorship authorities such as Disney that decides what is best for us. May they continue to re-write history and stories to make our world more fairy-taley(…nope I myself don’t know if I am serious 😦

2. I wonder if our world would have been any different if no one had sanitized these stories…hmm no little girl believing in the wonders of a prince’s kiss, no waiting for Prince Charming, no hope for happiliy ever after…wonder which life is more realistic?

3. Actually on second thought, I wonder if there’s a hidden message in the story…maybe that’s why a lot of the times a guy seems to be the ‘prince’ persona but then the mask sheds and he turns out to be the ‘king’ persona (ok when i say a lot of times i am talking about one specific case that a friend of mine recently faced….but that’s another post)

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To read other santized fairy tales go here: Top 10 Gruesome Fairy Tale Origins

Windmills of My Mind

Neverending circles

Never ending circles

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I want my inner zombies back…
Being blissfully numb is gnawing at my ferocity.. .
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Had been blissful before, had been numb before…just never blissfully numb
Yeah, I want my inner zombies back, this utopia is too drone
Want my dystopia back
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The winds have been turning the windmills of my mind again…
Sleep is laden with illusionary images again…
The reel, the snowball, the carnival balloon, the carousel are all here
Was it something I said, was it something I should have said
Will I ever get put the fragments together, will the puzzle be ever completed
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I want this jangle to irate me, I want this temple to misguide me
I want to trade this blissful numbness for a teacher …for a joker
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First I will break the wings of my angel,
Then I will bury my dancing shoes
How should I drown out the piper I wonder?
Need to inject some toxins in my spirit,
Need to combat the voice within
Need to dry out the sweet rain
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I can’t tell,
Can’t tell where I left my soul shaker
Don’t know,
I don’t know how to throw the dice on the game of snakes and ladder anymore

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Wrote this at wee hour of a Thursday morning after listening to “Windmills of your Mind” over and over again. I first heard this song in music class in grade 2 or 3. The melody was stuck somewhere at the back of my ‘windmills’ for many years. I ‘found’ the song 2 years ago on one the blogs but didn’t quite get it till this morning. Finally the lyrics clicked; now that my mind is entangled in the same whirlpool

The original version of the song and in my opinion the best version

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Dusty Springfield’s version is the best female version of it.

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Lyrics

The Windmills Of Your Mind

(from “The Thomas Crown Affair”)

Music by Michel Legrand
Lyrics by Alan Bergman and Marilyn Bergman

Round, like a circle in a spiral
Like a wheel within a wheel.
Never ending or beginning,
On an ever spinning wheel
Like a snowball down a mountain
Or a carnival balloon
Like a carousel that’s turning
Running rings around the moon

Like a clock whose hands are sweeping
Past the minutes on its face
And the world is like an apple
Whirling silently in space
Like the circles that you find
In the windmills of your mind

Like a tunnel that you follow
To a tunnel of its own
Down a hollow to a cavern
Where the sun has never shone
Like a door that keeps revolving
In a half forgotten dream
Or the ripples from a pebble
Someone tosses in a stream.

Like a clock whose hands are sweeping
Past the minutes on its face
And the world is like an apple
Whirling silently in space
Like the circles that you find
In the windmills of your mind

Keys that jingle in your pocket
Words that jangle in your head
Why did summer go so quickly
Was it something that you said
Lovers walking along the shore,
Leave their footprints in the sand
Is the sound of distant drumming
Just the fingers of your hand

Pictures hanging in a hallway
And a fragment of a song
Half remembered names and faces
But to whom do they belong

When you knew that it was over
In the autumn of goodbyes
For a moment
You could not recall the color of his eyes

[if a man is singing, this part would be:]

When you knew that it was over
Were you suddenly aware
That the autumn leaves were turning
To the color of her hair?

Like a circle in a spiral
Like a wheel within a wheel
Never ending or beginning,
On an ever spinning wheel
As the images unwind
Like the circle that you find
In the windmills of your mind

Getting up

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Yes I fell

…fell FLAT on my face

…and hit the cold hard floor

…so hard that my sweet little heart snatched out of the safe warm haven that had been safeguarding it for so long

Yes, that’s my heart you see on the floor

…clenching for some warmth

…yep that’s my heart…and…and…

…and is that a smile I see on my heart?

My heart is smiling?!!

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The smile speaks…

It says, “I don’t belong on the floor”

No, it doesn’t…my heart doesn’t belong on any floor

And so, my heart marches back into its haven

…all proud of what it has achieved

…all proud of having fed my soul…with a novel nourishment…a nourishment my being had been so cautious of tasting till now

Yes, true it didn’t last

…but it was so powerful while it did that my whole essence has been revived

…and so…

that wall around the haven that guards my heart will not be built again

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PS. Thanks sis for being my comfort food 😀 love ya to bits …MUUAAWH

The Drifter

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I am the captain of my boat

I navigate it well

The years have taught me how

When the wind was fierce

…the sails soared up

When the tide was wild

…the wheel was held on tight

…but alas

…there is no anchor

My boat has no anchor

It’s forever adrift

Time to anchor?

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Once you have reached a season in your life where more than 30 birthday memories have been recorded, a birthday starts taking a new meaning onto itself. It no longer becomes a time for you to just giggle away over the sound of merry games, Kodak moments, cake indulging, gift shaking, and candles flickering away. Once you are over a certain age, the giggles remain but another ritual is added… for some reason it also becomes a time to evaluate–to evaluate those moments between each birthday.

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On my last birthday, a friend took onto herself to evaluate my moments. Me, well, I was just still busy giggling the moments away, so she stepped in.

Her diagnosis of my life:

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I have no anchor!!!

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HER: If you were to die tomorrow, what would you say was your biggest accomplishment?

ME: [not wanting to go down that road] Can we not have this conversation on my birthday?

HER: You want to talk about the weather? Fine…it’s hot!!! There, we are done with that topic so what should we talk about now? Oh, I know…when are you gonna stop being a coward?

ME: [playing with the sugar packet on the desk] Hahaha, first time I hear you talk in a sarcastic tone…[all smiles]

HER: Listen, ‘Darya’, do not make the same mistake as I did…drop your anchor

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Now since this was not the first time she had brought up this topic I knew where she was going with this, and to be honest with you my ears weren’t tuning in to her words. AND she knew this…she felt it…yet she kept on talking…more like she wanted her own ears to hear her words.

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HER: I am 43 years old and have nothing to hold me down…never got married…never got truly attached to anyone…every time I got close I came up with a good excuse why it’s not in my best interest to anchor now…JUST LIKE YOU ARE DOING NOW

ME: Moi???!!!! Excuses??!!!

HER: [just raises her right eyebrow]

ME: They are not excuses. I just haven’t found the right port to anchor yet. Besides I love sailing freely from one port to another. No I don’t have the intention of sailing for ever but trust me, once I find the right port, I will anchor.

HER: There’s no perfect port. I mean you didn’t anchor at the last port, just because of one lousy day. Every single port would have beautiful days as well rainy ones.

ME: Yes, but IF I love the port, I would love the rainy days as well. Sweetie, I am not naïve, I know there’s no perfect port…but I also KNOW there’s a port somewhere just perfect for my boat. I’ll anchor once I find it. Ok, yes, there are days I get tired of sailing…or at least of sailing solo…yes there are days I think back to a port I had just left and think maybe I shouldn’t have been too hasty, maybe I should have explored it more…but the fact that I didn’t is a sign that my boat doesn’t belong to that port.

HER: That was my reasoning all my life. Stop kidding yourself. I know you too well Darya. You don’t even get close to the port before you turn around and leave. As soon as you begin to get close enough to make out a couple of the features of this port, you get scared and turn around.

ME: [silent]

HER: You get scared just like I got scared. Promise me something, promise me that you will turn around and go and explore your last port a bit more before you leave…at least for God’s sake drift around it for a month before you leave.

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Well, that conversation took place on my birthday…since then I have turned my boat around…back to the port…the port I had just happily left…and yes, she was right…there are no stormy days here anymore…yes the port is a nice place…it’s flawless…it’s an ideal place to anchor…but my boat wants to leave…it feels like the beauty of this port doesn’t belong to it.

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Now I am stuck…the port is perfect…it’s the port I’d envisioned in my dreams…I am stuck at this port…yet I can’t bring myself to drop the anchor.

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How could the perfect port not be perfect for my boat?

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Is something wrong with the captain?

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Will she always be a drifter?

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…and once again she sails away……

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Kuwait, Iran, Malaysia

About 3 months ago I picked up a book called, “Eat, Pray, Love’ by Elizabeth Gilbert at Kuwait’s airport on my way to Iran. It’s a travelogue of a woman in search of herself in Italy (eat), India (pray) and Indonesia (love).

A few minutes ago I was thinking I kinda (albeit an itsy bitsy teeny weeny kinda) had a similar experience. See, the past five years in Kuwait I have mostly focused on attaining my masterdom in the art of the worldly pleasures in all things gluttonous (eat). So Kuwait was my Italy. My last trip to Iran sealed my quest for inner peace, it was purely spiritual (pray). India was Iran for me. So could Malaysia be my Indonesia? hehehe doubt it

Next post, random pix of Malaysia: