Showing posts with label Venice Biennale. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Venice Biennale. Show all posts

Friday, September 16, 2011

Irresistible Destiny:Chapter 11 - Cumaen Sibyl



Books » 310 series » Twilight: Impossible Destiny
Author: seymourblogger
Rated: M - English - Fantasy/Romance - Published: 08-31-11 - Updated: 09-09-11id:7342016
Twilight: Irresistible Destiny
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 The Cave of the Sibyl


According to the Roman poet Virgil, the entrance to the underworld lies inside the Cave of the Sibyl, a hole cut into the cliff that circumscribes Lake Avernus, a volcanic lake northwest of Naples, Italy.

Outside the sibyl's cave, you can see a sign carved into stone:

More History and Images


For Savage's Hide and Drink Edward

The blood blossom flowers
At the fragile girl's throat
The vampire bears down
Holding her imprisoned supine form
His mouth open
His lips caressing
Silken skin suckling
Plumbing pulsing each precise precious
Deep and delicious mouthful
Throbbing into him
Drinking and calming his frenzy
Then with his venom
Seals her wound.
Saving her for yet
Another day
Another night
Another time
Until….

Chapter 11 Death 

EPOV


As we go up the stairs Bella begins to undress. At each landing she undoes more of her clothes.


My god I am ready for her.

I'm not sure I will even get in the door.

And then when we do and she begins screaming at me to take my pants off. I don't know who I am looking at. She is possessed. Her eyes are wild, her eyes are black and luminous, and she is unstoppable.

She goes down on her knees in front of me and takes me in her mouth. But I slide down her throat and her throat muscles clasp me tightly, pull me down deeper and deeper; her teeth graze me in warning. My god! Vagina Dentata!

She grabs the skin on my ass to hold on and then I am horror struck as I realize what's happening. I see it all the way to the end. To Death.


I am about to be initiated into a practice that has no return.




I hit her hard across the face to stun her.

And she gasps and I leave her throat and mouth in a rush.


She looks at me in hurt and astonishment, before she crumples into sobs while I am throwing her to the floor, on her back, restraining her with my body, hands, legs.

I know about this. It is ancient. The ecstasy it offers is without comparison. Anyone who indulges does not come away alive. I will come in her mouth and she will keep milking all of it out of me and it will be so wonderful I will want her to do it again. And again. In a short time my semen will become mixed with blood and she will milk my blood out of me. She will crave my blood and I will crave her mouth but her throat even more. She will bleed me, and I will beg her to keep bleeding me. As I die from lack of blood I will still beg her for just - yet - once - more.


And I will die.


 Just like those rats who press the bar to stimulate their pleasure center and don't drink, don't eat, don't fuck, don't take care of their babies. That's all they want. Just that. And it will be all I will want and all Bella will want. And when I die and there is no more of my blood she will go mad and die.


Asian prostitutes know this. Men did not die because they didn't have enough money to continue to the end. When AIDS came on the scene they were more careful and now it is impossible to find one who knows the ancient art, who will do it.

Mothers train their daughters starting in early childhood. Bella knows from a past life. We have done this in the past. We have died like this in the past. I know it, I know it. The desire is so strong, we must have never been able to resist before. I can hardly resist now and only because I know about it. If I didn't know about it I would never have stopped. And we would have been doomed yet one more time. My god. This is where this incredible demand that she be mine, mine and no one else's. Only her. She is the only one who can do this to me. I am the only one whose blood she will want once we begin.


Oh my god. This is where the legends of vampires come from, only the genders have been reversed to reveal and conceal the secret.

The sexual ecstasy just suggested, but death clear and open.




I keep telling her no, no, no that she doesn't know what she is doing.

She can't know. Now is not the time she will listen to words, so while she is sobbing I hold her tight around her sides and stomach and my left hand digs into the base of her spine where that abominable glorious kundalini energy lies dormant, a snake ready to coil out and strike when we least expect it.

I put my mouth on her and begin to devour her folds, her center, thrusting my tongue in her, sucking her clit, my teeth demanding she respond to me. Slowly she begins to move as I insist with my fingers, my mouth, my tongue, my moans, my voice humming against her.


She returns to this world of ours and looks at me eyes wide open, breathing heavily but no longer erratically.




"What happened? What Happened! Where was I? I was gone. I was in another time. I couldn't stop. I wanted to kill you if you left me. Is that what I meant when I said I would kill you if you even thought about trying to leave me? And I know given the slightest opportunity I would do it again in a heartbeat.


 How could you have stopped? Whatever made you stop? Why did you stop? I don't understand. Tell me. Tell me."




So I entered her slowly, pushing deeply into her, slowly, very slowly, and as I did I began to explain this ancient practice. I kissed her throat, her lips, her breasts, her nipples, and held her face with my hands and looked deeply into her eyes as I began to tell her about the beautiful, powerful Cumaean Sibyl who lived in a cave and was a prophetess.

Michelangelo painted her on the Sistine Chapel. Aeneas visited her to help him go into Hades and return. Virgil writes about her. And it was in her cave that a Christian burial ground was discovered in 1932.


Her cave looks just like a vagina. I have no doubt who those bodies belonged to. I was even willing to believe that I was one of them.




"No wonder I knew you right away when I saw you across the hallway. You have haunted men's dreams for all time. And you know secrets of pleasure and power that you don't know you know. There is something beyond us going on.


I haven't asked but I know you are using a chemical means of birth control. No condom, IUD, jelly, cream or anything would stop what is going on with us. You have a barrier against me, a barricade so to speak. Something is in a frenzy to break it, to have us vulnerable to each other, vulnerable to danger and Death. Something is urging us uncontrollably to procreate and something else is trying just as forcefully and dangerously to stop that from happening by killing us. The tiniest of details disrupting destiny each time we almost met. That tiny thing kept diverting us, by ruining it for Destiny.




"If I had met you at the opening I would have known you, but we would have gotten to know each other a little slower, more socially. I have no doubt we would have been together, but in a more conventional way.


And I doubt we would have known what we know now in just these last 24 hours. And we would have had children without thinking about this and these forces propelling us and forbidding us, these avenging, dueling angels if you will. We just would never have known.


Perhaps we had children in the past? Maybe not. I think not. I think we died of this in the past. Many times. To keep us from procreating. But there would have been no transgression for us in New York City, that way. Everything would have proceeded naturally and normally. We might have lived at the edge of mainstream, but that would be it, just the edge, the avant garde. And I would have continued discovering my way through painting, and you might have continued to be a psychic. And we would have grown old together normally. No we would have died of this first, long before.




"But in that moment of Transgression our Doubles appeared. When the Double appears, then Death is by our side.


Only I think this time we fully know it. And that is our trial in this lifetime. We know more than we ever did before. Before we were just very willing victims. Unconscious. Unknowing. We have to protect each other this time.




"Your latest psychic endeavor is to distract you from the deep knowledge of who and what you are and what we are. It was exciting enough to do that. So was my painting. My success with it. My independence from the standard art world. Mary Boone helped me as she has been doing this for strange and singular artists for a long time now.




But oh my god, this is way out of my league.




Without that moment of Transgression in the hallway we would never have known.




And then I hushed and lost myself in her, entering her anew over and over, slow and slower, until my control slipped and I began to lose it again. I couldn't stop. I couldn't have stopped if the hotel burned down around us.

I was gone.
.

Thursday, September 15, 2011

Irresistible Destiny:Chapter 10 - Abyss

An object does not exist until and unless it is observed. – William Burroughs


For Savage's Hide and Drink Edward


The blood blossom flowers
At the fragile girl's throat
The vampire leans down
Holding her imprisoned supine form
His mouth open
His lips caressing
Silken skin suckling
Plumbing pulsing each precise
droplet
Throbbing into him
Drinking and calming his frenzy
Then his venom seals her wound.
Saving her for yet
Another day
Another night
Another time
Until...

BPOV




We are walking up the stairs to the fourth floor. The lift is broken. At the first landing I take off my shoes. As I walk up to the second landing I am unbuttoning my blouse and as I keep going up and up I am unzipping my skirt. Luckily I have no bra and panties on so I walk in the door and everything drops off and I am standing there in my socks. I turn around to Edward and he is just standing there in astonishment. I grab his pants and begin to unzip, but something is caught and I can't.


"Take them off! Take them off!" I scream at him. "Hurry, take them off" and he does. As his pants loosen I pull them down, go down on my knees and take him in my mouth. He grabs my hair but I am so violent he grabs the chair instead to steady himself.

I don't wrap my lips around him, I don't suckle him or suck him, I just open my throat and I don't even swallow him. My throat just opens and he slides down my throat and my throat muscles close around him and pull him deeper. My teeth are trying not to bite him but they want to. I begin to milk him with my throat.


He looks at me in horror. He tries to pull out but he can't. I threaten him with my teeth. I will bite him in half, shred him if he continues. He's mine, mine, all mine and I want him exactly where he is right now. I will not allow him to pull out of my mouth and throat.


"Stop Bella, please stop. Now. Before it's too late. Please, please."


Not a chance I say to myself.




And then he hits me hard across the face and in my pain and utter surprise, I gasp and he is gone. I scream at him, go after him, He pushes me down on the floor and crushes me with his weight. I hit him, bite, scratch, claw, kick, twist, but I cannot get away.


"NO! NO! No, don't stop me don't stop me, I have to have you I have to I have to I need you, please please please!"




"Bella, Bella, no no no, please Bella, no not this.
I know this. I know what it is.
You can't. I can't. We can't. No no no."




"Yes!" I scream. "It's all I want, all I want! I must have you like this!. I will die if I don't! Please, you don't understand! Please please please!"




"No, no, no. You don't know what you are asking. You don't know what you are starting. You don't understand this. You don't know about this. Trust me. I know about this. It's the most dangerous thing we could do.


Please just listen. Just trust me on this."


"No no no." I cry and sob. I plead. I kiss him. I beg. And he won't move off me. He won't budge an inch off me. I am pinned down in defeat. So I weep and weep for what he can't understand. He can't know how much I want him. How wonderful I will make him feel.


He can't know or he would never refuse me.

Irresistible Destiny - Chapter 9 - Abyss



Books » 310 series » Twilight: Impossible Destiny
Author: seymourblogger
Rated: M - English - Fantasy/Romance - Published: 08-31-11 - Updated: 09-09-11id:7342016
Twilight: Irresistible Destiny

Rothko's change, his passage almost without transition, to an immediate, definitive form. It is there all at once, perfectly mastered, end of story. And it is light-years away from what he was doing up to that point. (Cool Memories IV 84-85)




This is something entirely different from an evolution - even a creative evolution. It is an almost genetic impulse by which he separates himself miraculously from the artist he still was, with his place in the history of art, to be nothing but the sovereign medium of an extremely simple form, which no longer has anything to do with expressionism or abstraction." (Cool Memories IV 84-85)







Chapter 8 E
EPOV


Rothko
My god, who is she? She is so completely Other. I am in awe of her, amazed, and desperate to take her now right in the gondola and go to the bottom of the canal with her and drown. I have turned into a madman in my mind to even think like this. I touch her helping her out of the boat, and I can't take my hands off her, so I don't.




This is new to me.


We go inside and I am still processing what she has told me. She's an accessory to a $30,000,000 heist! Of priceless artworks! As if she is talking about baking gingerbread cookies!I can't let her do this. I have to protect her. She can't put herself in jeopardy like this. I couldn't live through it.




We wander and I don't take her to my paintings. There are two of them here as the curator couldn't decide which one to show. We do the usual talk talk about art as we look, but neither of us is really paying attention. I can't focus while I am feeling her next to me like this. This is our first date for crissakes. I'm concentrating all my energy on not throwing her down on the floor. I want to do it. What the fuck is the matter with me.




Then we turn a corner and she stops dead.




"That's yours, isn't it.  I know it is. I've seen your work before. I was supposed to be at your opening in New York, in Chelsea last fall. I was there ready to go in because Alice said I must see it, and I must meet you. When she met me at the door she said it was mobbed. Everyone was trying to talk with you, and it was knee deep in admiring women. She said it was really the wrong time to meet you, the wrong time to be able to contemplate your work, and that we would come back in the daytime when it was not so crowded. We went out to dinner and Jasper, that's her husband, got drunk at dinner because he made so much money from your sales. Oh my god, I don't believe this. Jasper is your agent and Alice is my best friend. She collects and she has a lot of your work. Naturally I've seen all hers. I went back and saw your show when I was alone and I spent three hours looking at it. What if we had met that night! I can't even imagine it!"




And she began to laugh and laugh.




How had I been missing her! All that lost time. But at any of the other meetings, it wouldn't have been the same. I could hardly have taken her at Mary Boone Gallery.




How would I have stopped myself? What would I have said? Something ordinary? And then we might not have known all that we know now. How long would it have taken us to figure this out? Would we ever have figured it out? No, we have met at exactly the right time and in the right way for us. The perfect time. The only time.




I sit on a bench, pull her onto my lap, and hold her tight, so tight. "Oh Bella," I breathe, just "oh Bella," over and over again. I feel her trembling in my arms, and she can't stop either. She is smiling and laughing and then she cries and sobs, then laughs through her tears again. We have been so close, so close all this time. Then we meet as strangers and I grab her and rip her clothes off and violate her. Who could have dreamed this up!




"There's a hotel near here. Let's go check in. We can come back tomorrow and look at my paintings and talk then. I can't focus now. I can't talk about them now the way I wanted to talk with you about them. I wanted to listen to what you see, listen to how you tell me what you see, tell you what I am trying to do with them. But that's all over now. I don't need to continue painting that way anymore. It was all for you, all to find you, and now that I have, I don't need to paint like that anymore. I don't know where I will go next, but it will be something totally new for me. A complete change, like the one Rothko made. No transition, no working my way through something.




"Just a jump over the abyss into the unknown."


Irresistible Destiny - Chapter 7 - House of the Sleeping Beauties

Go to fanfiction.net:

Books » 310 series » Twilight: Impossible Destiny
Author: seymourblogger
Rated: M - English - Fantasy/Romance - Published: 08-31-11 - Updated: 09-09-11id:7342016
Twilight: Irresistible Destiny
_____________________________________________________________________
What a pleasure to caress a woman without waking her! Simply to be for her a paradoxical dream in which her body alone would find pleasure. What obscure desire in her to be violated without knowing it?


With every woman, one would love to possess her without her being aware of it, leaving her free to take her pleasure without our knowing it.


He was probably still capable of awakening her with his roughness. So he thought; but his heart did not rise to the challenge. (Baudrillard - Cool Memories III - 21)





Chapter 7
EPOV
Oh this woman. I will live forever and still not get to the bottom of her. Listening to a symphony of one mosquito. Now I long to hear that music too. Ants who get drunk, kidnap caterpillars, as I want to kidnap her, stroke the caterpillars like musical instruments to listen to their music, never letting them go. I understand those insects with all my heart.




"Why am I here in Venice? It's obvious of course. There can only be one reason, don't you think?"




I smile at her, touched by all that she has said. Overwhelmed by her feelings and thoughts and understanding and all that she is that is so perfect for me. I breathe freely for what seems like the first time in my life.




"I came here for the Biennale, the art show. The opening was two weeks ago but for some reason," and here I smile again, " I found I couldn't leave. I had to cancel my plane ticket, take a loss on it, and still I couldn't understand why I couldn't leave. So I walked around, ate at small out of the way places, thought, drew some, wrote some, read some, but really just waited. I was waiting for you of course, but I didn't know that."




"Why did you come for the show? Are you in it?"




"I am. Have you seen it?"




"No, I was planning to go before I left though. I promised my friend Alice I would see it and report to her if there was anything she might want to research. So yes, I was definitely planning to see it. But now I want to see it with you. You will go with me, won't you. That's not a question. Is it still on the Lido the way it used to be?"



Oh god, the way she sees, she will see through to my core when she sees my painting. She will immediately know. I can't wait. I won't tell her anymore. I want to surprise her. But I am the one who will be surprised. I know it.




Her eyes are closing so I tell her to sleep as I want to watch her sleep. When she begins to breathe regularly I touch her gently. She moves, so I hold still on her. As her breathing deepens, I slowly move my hands to another part of her body. She is still quiet so I continue, slowly, gently with great tenderness. I love her so. I have always loved her, and I know that now. She turns her back to me and I lean in close. I know what I am planning to do. I want to be inside her, to sleep inside her, without her waking. I want to just breathe with her, to become one with her, to fill her dreams and have her fill mine. And I will take as long as I need to to sleep inside her.


I want to own her dreams too.