Christian Psychic Readings & Astrology Charts for All Faiths

My Panther Noire

tattoo weird faceHe moved, effortlessly, under the radar, such that I swear he could shape shift. He was dressed in black—- gloves and the rest. He looked like a panther come to life. I should never have loved him, but I could not help myself. I am a strange bird, too. I am not as I seem, so we were the perfect pair in theory. In actuality, it was the worst pain I ever had.

How I came to this point takes some explanation. One does not pop out of the cake doing self destructive things. One builds up to it. In my case, I was fighting so many inner demons I did not notice an outer one, especially when he was so darn delicious.

I fall for words.The people around me call me names like pumpkin and sweet pea. Words make my heart swell. Words break it. Most men can’t talk. It is the rare one who can. That is my Achilles heel. So, of course I would fall for the Panther. It was the chemical reaction of H and O2. It explodes! Voila.

Do you ever wonder the mechanism for human addiction? The yang grabs the yin and they become the yin/yang. That is the short version. My version will take time, like the whispers of the panther that made me do things I shouldn’t.

I was so stupid. Do you know what I mean? I was so stupid that only the Great One could save me from myself. He did, but only after I did enough damage that it was one of those rescues in which the victim arrives on shore, half dead.

I don’t know how I got so lost from the internal compass we all have. My dial spun until it exhausted itself. Then, it broke. It must be that, among other things.

I could never share a man. Can any women? I mean, for real? Women talk dumb.I didn’t know that their talk was about as cheap as the rest of the things they did.

I went into a deep slumber from my early teens. It made me a dunce in emotional affairs. That is how one steps in it and good.

So, you want me to move on. I hear you. You think I’m a tease. Yes, I have been called that, but this is not what this is about. This is how I became noire. My mother molested me. She put me down on the floor at her ankles and masturbated. She looked into my eyes with an expression that could only be called utter hatred.

I was too young to utter words, but in my head I knew the words. I want to die. I want to die. I want to die. The words brought me comfort. They were noire words.

I don’t look noire. God must have graced me with enough light that I do not bring down the room, but noire has a life of it’s own. It escapes and makes me do crazy things, which brings me back to my original subject, forgotten in the digression, perhaps.

The Panther knew these things. He had his own version, wrapped in dark paper like they use in Over the Hill parties. The balloons and napkins are black.The cupcakes have black frosting. The panther knew my dirty little secret, even though I never breathed a word.

That was what made me love him and I love him still. Once you have to say words, you have lost something. It is a crazy thing, but who can stop noire when it runs out of it’s cage, free as a bird. It has it’s own rhythm. One has no choice but to dance to it’s beat.

I thought the Panther understood it all but now, I am not sure. Was it a chimera? I like that word. It sounds big and smart like I am big and smart. Maybe, he never understood a thing and I was fooled. I get flashes that this is so. I may have wanted it so badly that I made it up. I made him a man who understood the music when he only knew the words.

18 thoughts on “My Panther Noire

  1. amiannLon Spector

    No one fools us. We fool ourselves. The carnalistc capasity resides with in us.
    We don’t need an artifical stimulation. We need the REAL THING. JESUS!

    1. amiannamiann Post author

      Lon
      You are a star. I was talking to my English Professor client. She is not saved and is starting to go to church to try to find God.
      I was telling her about the Born Again man on my website who is always telling me to he does not like my pictures. She said, ‘Do you mean Lon Spector?”

  2. amiannLon Spector

    Yea, but I got an E-mail from a website called “faith.” They said their “security team”
    thinks someone may have gotten my E-mail adress and is hacking my computer.
    They say thier getting a lot of spam from my E-mail adress.
    I know I’m in over my head with regard to computers.
    The 12th house is the house of self “undoing.” I’ve got Uranus (Computers?) there.
    I feel I’ve opened a Pandora’s box with the computer. I may have provided my “hidden”
    enemies with the means to destroy me.

    1. amiannamiann Post author

      That happened to me. I was sending out spam to other people cuz they had gotten my e mail address. It is not just a curse on you, Lon. Every day, I have about 4 people try to hack this website.
      What you do is this. NEVER open up weird e mail. Just delete it.

          1. amiannBiblea

            I don’t know it has your vibe, A. I believe you can have this tattoo but it is miniscule and need a 10x microscope to see. It can be on your ankle, A. Nobody will suspect it is anything other than a birthmark.

  3. amiannLon Spector

    There can be no doubt that I’ve set the stage for my own eventual destruction
    in learning to post on the computer. I have been long under survalence in other areas
    of my life, telephone, been followed around because I knew too much etc… But this
    computer will completly expose all my ideas and place me in a vulnarable position.
    Had I never learned the computer, there was no way that anyone would even given me the
    time of day. Not based on my appearence or “acheviements.” But now I’ve given them
    a knife they can twist in my back!

  4. amiannJulia_Y

    Why not publish that? I would.
    The dirty little secret? Well, writing about “dirty” things WITHOUT making them sound so, is a gift.

    “They seemed to make time stop but not the darkness”. “I made him a man who understood the music when he only knew the words.” Applause.

    1. amiannamiann Post author

      It got published by someone I don’t know sending it to French magazine. I am very honored. Thank YOU for your kind and loving words, Julia. You make my day! xx

      1. amiannJulia_Y

        Always welcome, Ami. Truth is truth.

        You like French, don’t you? “Je ne sais quoi” is a recurring phrase in your articles 🙂 Coming across this one for the first time was so unexpected and charming.

        And, of course, the title of your story was, at the first look, more than unexpected.

        If you got published by a stranger, why wouldn’t you try to knock on the door of a publishing house? Even if you have a different aim in life, it would be great if your stories got a way larger audience. How many of the nowadays’ bestsellers, like… shot in the dark.. “Fifty shades of Grey”, praised by the public, are so poorly written, that it hurts both eyes and logic to read them? Authors might have interesting ideas, but cannot make the story live. And you can.

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