Cee’s Black & White Photo Challenge – Birds 
Cee’s Black & White Photo Challenge: Birds
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When we visited the Kansas City Zoo, we saw a lot of different kinds of birds. Here’s a few:
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Thanks for visiting! Peace ☮️
© 2018 BS
Cheer Chants – Stream of Consciousness Saturday – SOCS – Cheers 
The Friday Reminder and Prompt for #SoCS June 30/18
Your Friday prompt for Stream of Consciousness Saturday is “cheers.” Use it any way you’d like. Enjoy!
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So, the first thing that most probably everyone thought of with the prompt of ‘cheers’, is the TV show called, “Cheers”.
I thought of it too, but I’m sure I’m in the minority, and going against the grain, by saying I never did like that show. I watched a few of them, and didn’t see the appeal. First, I wasn’t crazy about the actors, or the characters they played. That it was set in a bar, wasn’t my favorite setting, either. I’ve been down the drinking, partying road many years ago, and don’t care to do it any more. Wasn’t much fun then, and I can’t imagine it being fun now.
Now…
What I really want to talk about is this…Cheer-leading.
Yes, once upon a time I tried out for being a cheer leader at school, but being non-athletic, and uncoordinated, I didn’t make it. (hah!)
However, my daughter did. She began her cheer-leading activities in kindergarten…for their little soccer team. She had an official uniform, and learned a lot of cheers. She still has that uniform…it’s so tiny! Her own daughter can wear it now. She still has all her uniforms, as we had to buy each one (and they are not cheap!)
Later, she cheered every year in middle school, and also in high school. There were many uniforms…all cute, and different ones for each season.
The cheer squad in all of these were very hard working girls. They were very much working at their cheering and stunts, and very dedicated (not just playing around).
She learned lots of cheer chants, too.
Here’s a couple I remember from hearing them at my old school, whose mascot was the Matadors.
“Thunder, thunder…thunderation
We’re the Matador delegation
When we fight with determination
We create a sensation!”
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“Two bits, four bits, six bits a dollar
All for the Matadors, stand up and holler”
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I used to know them all, from hearing them so many times, but now have forgotten. They were all catchy and fun.
Do you remember any cheer chants from your school days?
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Thanks for visiting! Peace ☮️
© 2018 BS
Flower of the Day – Red Roses
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For Cee’s Flower of the Day:
Flower of the Day – June 30, 2018 – Clematis
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Thanks for visiting! Peace ☮️
© 2018 BS
Two Souls: Into the Fire # 18
Warning…adult content
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warning…adult content
Ghost had just barely made it to the graveyard, that early morning. He had driven very slowly down the gravel path, until he could go no farther, and stopped the car just before hitting the stone marker near the edge of the path. He was feeling so weak, but had to go see his grandmother. Her stone was just a little bit farther, back off the path, into the deepest part of the woodsy graveyard. This was his sanctuary, his and Steve’s secret spot. It was well hidden and secluded. Just like Miz Deliverance had wanted it.
“Ain’t no reason for folks to be coming to visit me after I’m gone. Just you, Ghost…and you can bring Steve along, too. That’s all.” He could still hear her words.
He sat there a few minutes, trying to gather enough strength to get out of the car, and go a little farther into the cool shade. He could barely stay conscious, but wanted to do this one last thing. He turned off the car and pocketed the keys, then eased his sore and aching body out. He had to grab hold of the door and hang on to keep from falling. Slowly, he stumbled to his grandmother’s headstone. As he reached out to grab hold of it, he fell to the grass. He couldn’t go any farther right now. Closing his eyes in exhaustion, he felt a fresh spurt of blood break open from his wounds. It seeped into the grass beneath him. As he lay there in pain and sorrow, he thought he could hear someone calling his name.
“Maybe this is a dream,” he thought…and then sobbed, as he remembered that Steve would not be there to rescue him from his nightmares…would not be there for him ever again…and he faded out, as his dream took over him.
“Ghost,” the voice of his grandmother entered his subconscious dream state.”Ghost child, I can see you are in agony over what has happened to you. I am here with you. I will help guide you through this. I am sorry I couldn’t stay in your world a little longer. I love you so much, Ghost child, maybe too much.
Things may have been different, had I not brought you to this place, those many years ago. I thought it would give you a better chance to survive in this world. It must have interrupted the path your soul was going down. Things were hard for you here…much harder than I thought they’d be.
You were born to the mountains…there were things you should have stayed and learned there. I failed you, and am so sorry. You don’t remember much about the day your young friend saved you from torture. I knew your and Steve’s life path would cross, even before that day.” the voice paused a moment. “I told him to go away…the time was not right. You both had lessons to learn.
A few months later, you met again. It seemed the stars were aligned this time…and they were for awhile…but, something went awry. I don’t know why it happened when it did, but I feared for you..and Steve. I was helpless to intervene. It had to happen as it did.
It was decided for your soul to experience hardship. I wish it wasn’t so. Now, here you are at this time and this place, and I must tell you some truths. I have faith you will survive this pain. The pain in your broken body, and the pain in your heart. You are strong, Ghost, you are not afraid…you are a survivor.
There is something you must do. When you awake, help will be on the way to you. You must go back to your beginnings, back to the mountains. It is not your time to join me and those who have gone before you. Your timeline is long, but difficult. There will be times of happiness and times of sorrow. Do not fear, Ghost…the one you love will cross paths with you again. There have been many meetings and partings of your souls throughout time; this must be endured for it to be so. The time will be right again.
When you awake, you must make your way to the entrance, by the gate. Rest yourself there at the angel statue. I have sent someone to help you. Trust him, he will say your name. Do not question. You will be taken to your birthplace in the mountains. The people there will help to restore you, to heal the ache in your body and mind. When the time has come, you will continue on your journey. There are still lessons to learn, Ghost child…still lessons to learn…”
The voice of Ghost’s grandmother faded away, and the dream was ended.
As Ghost slept, it was as if all the souls of the dead surrounded him in a fine, shimmery mist, as he lay there. Ghost received energy from their presence, as they reached out to caress him tenderly. As Ghost’s sky blue eyes fluttered open, he did feel like he could finish what he’d come there for. The dream he’d had was still in his head, but he couldn’t put words to it. It was just a peaceful feeling.
He sat up, reaching for his backpack and his markers. He took out a paper and began writing a note to Steve. He cried as he wrote the words, tears dropping one by one onto the page, smearing the ink. He didn’t care…he could only do this once. Reaching into his faded, old Army jacket, he took out his most prized possession, Steve’s sky blue guitar pick. He’d hidden it long ago in a tiny rip inside the jacket’s lining. It had been there many years, safely hidden away…only occasionally taken out to be handled, looked at, rubbed as if was a talisman…a good luck charm.
But now…he sobbed…he must give it back. He folded the paper into a tiny square, and pushed it and the pick into a small slit at the back of the headstone. He then took his marker and wrote a message on the front of the stone, so Steve would see it. His bloody handprint was there, too, where Ghost had leaned up against it.
He whispered, “Good-bye, Grandmother. I’ll see you again someday, I know,” and he kissed the gravestone, slowly turned and walked painfully away. He didn’t have a conscious plan, but felt his feet walking, leading him to where he needed to be.
As he came to the entrance of the cemetery, he stopped and looked up at the angel statue.
“Help me,” he prayed. He sank down there in the grass, laying his head on the angel’s feet. He didn’t know what would become of him, and in his despair, gave himself over to whatever fate would choose for him.
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Next part coming soon!
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Thanks for visiting! Peace ☮️
© 2018 BS
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This is a work of “fan fiction” based on the novel, “Lost Souls” by Poppy Z. Brite. All credit for the original characters, places, and some backstory mentions, belong to Ms. Brite and her publishing affiliates. Only newly introduced characters, places, and original elements of this story are entirely from my imagination. Character descriptions are a blend of the original book descriptions and my interpretation of them.
All songs included in this work will be solely owned by the original performers/writers and will be credited. Creative license is taken in including them in this story.
No harm is intended toward author, musicians, or people and situations to whom there may be a resemblance.
warning warning warning warning
The content herein is rated by me as being at the high end of MA (Mature Audience). It includes strong language, violence, sexual themes, including same sex pairings, religious themes, and fantasy horror.
Feline Friday 
https://comedy-plus.com/2018/06/29/feline-friday-49/
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We visited the Kansas City Missouri Zoo last week, and saw all kinds of animals. It was a hot day, and this lioness was taking a nap in the shade. Just as we left the zoo, it came a big rain, so I’m sure it cooled everyone down, just as it did us. It was refreshing.
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Thanks for visiting! Peace ☮️
© 2018 BS
Flower of the Day – Yellow Rose
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For Cee’s Flower of the Day:
Flower of the Day – June 29, 2018 – Geraniums
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Thanks for visiting! Peace ☮️
© 2018 BS
Cee’s Odd-Ball Photo Challenge 
Cee’s Odd Ball Photo Challenge: June 24, 2018
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When in Kansas City MO, we visited the National World War 1 Museum and Memorial. There were so many things to see, learn, and think about there. This is a gas mask used at the time. It seems very primitive compared to the ones used these days.
***click photo to enlarge***
Another type of WW1 gas mask
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Thanks for visiting! Peace ☮️
© 2018 BS
Excellent reminders about PTSD and fireworks. Please visit “Untangled’ for more informative and helpful posts.
Flower of the Day – Fluffy
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This one looks fluffy to me. I can’t decide what color it is, though. Is it red or dark pink? What do you think?
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For Cee’s Flower of the Day:
Flower of the Day – June 28, 2018 – Echinacea (Cone Flower)
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Thanks for visiting! Peace ☮️
© 2018 BS
Two Souls: Into the Fire # 17
Warning…adult content
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warning…adult content
It took Steve a little while to get to the area of Ghost’s grandmother’s grave. He sucked in his breath, as he saw his old T-bird parked sort of on and off the path. It was at a crazy angle, and had almost been ran into a headstone at the edge of the path.
He came closer…afraid to look. The door to the car was hanging open. He began crying at what he noticed next…blood. Blood smears on the door outside, and inside on the steering wheel, and even more on the seat. There were no keys in the ignition.
“It must be true,” he thought, knowing Ghost must be hurt very bad to lose this much blood. “Ghost…Ghost…what have I done to you…please be alive….I love you…I never meant to hurt you…I can’t live without you,” Steve cried into the twilight sky.
Then, rising from where he’d fallen to his knees by the side of the car, he turned to look farther down the path, to where he knew the headstone of Ghost’s grandmother was. Heart pounding, he began to walk toward it. His eyes searched the dimly lit copse. Ghost was not there.
“Okay, okay”, now what?” He focused closer, and even though it was getting hard to see, he noticed evidence that Ghost had been there. The soft grass over the grave had been flattened some, the blades bent and broken, and what was spread on the grass caused him more anguish, blood…more blood. And smeared onto the gravestone itself, a bloody hand print and a lip print, there on the front. Worst of all, it looked like the dark red bloodstains had been drippped on by many tears.
Steve totally broke down, then, as he lay in the grass and sobbed for Ghost, sobbed for the love he’d lost…sobbed for the way things should have been, and now never would be. This was the very spot he and Ghost had first made love, had been as one, and now…now…this is the very spot where it has all come to an end.
Eventually, he gathered himself, and sat there thinking of what he should do. Looking around for more evidence of Ghost’s presence, he noticed Ghost’s markers laying next to the headstone.
“What the…?” Steve questioned. Ghost never went anywhere without his markers. He knew Ghost must have been out of his mind with pain and confusion, to have left them here. Looking closer, he could make out words written on the cold, gray granite of the headstone. He startled when he read his own name. It was a message for him, left there by Ghost. It said in sky blue ink…”Steve, look in the crack at the back of the gravestone.”
Steve cautiously felt around behind the stone. He never knew there was a crack in it. Finally, he saw a small slit, and a piece of paper folded up in there…very small. He pulled it out. It was one of Ghost’s math papers that he’d done…just scribbles; but on top of the scribbles, he’d written words. The paper was full of them. Steve frowned, trying to read the small lettering. It was getting too dark to make them out, so he reached over behind a fallen log, and pulled out a tin box he and Ghost had hidden there, long ago. Inside were a candle and matches. He lit it and began to read.
“Steve, I tried to do this math for so long. Thank you for helping me. I know I never did get it. I had fun hanging out with you and being in a band with you. I tried really hard to make you proud of me…guess I didn’t. I have to go now. Sorry I messed up your car. Don’t look for me. I still love you and always will. You made my life bearable, even when you hurt me…Ghost. P.S. I stole this from you a long time ago, to have a piece of you with me. Sorry…”
There were tear marks and drops all over the paper mixed with drops of blood. The writing was smeared and shaky. Fingerprints in blood and marker ink stained the outside of the note. Steve put the paper to his lips and breathed…”Oh, Ghost, I was always proud of you. I loved you from the moment I saw you. But, I never deserved to have your love. All I did was hurt you in the end. Why…why…why, couldn’t I have treated you better? Why couldn’t I have been the real friend and lover you so desperately needed? Please, Ghost, please forgive me for causing you so much pain,” he sobbed.
He read the note over again and again, then wondered what Ghost had meant…that he’d stolen something from him. What was it? He ran his eyes back to the crack in the gravestone, holding the candle up closer. There was something else in there. He could barely fit his finger into the opening, but when he did, he scraped out the object. It was an old guitar pick that had gone missing years ago. He’d had many guitar picks over the years, but this had been his favorite It was the only one he’d ever seen that was sky blue…the color of Ghost’s eyes, and the color of Ghost’s favorite marker.
“Oh, my God,” whispered Steve. Ghost had had it all this time. He looked at the note again. It said it was to keep a piece of himself, Steve, next to Ghost. “Oh, Ghost, I guess giving it back, means you don’t want me next to you anymore,” He sobbed, as he realized this was the final blow, the end of him and Ghost.
Steve remained there in the graveyard all night, crying, sleeping some, and trying to think what to do. “I don’t care what happens, I’m going to find you, Ghost. I have to make things right with you. I’ll never stop searching,” Steve vowed.
As day broke, Steve woke from his fitful sleep and began to plan. First, he had to get home and close up the house, then go find Ghost. He looked again at the old gravestone.
“I’m so sorry I didn’t take care of your Ghost child like I promised, Miz Deliverance. I tried, but…but, I’m going to make it right. I won’t break this promise.”
Then he noticed..on top of the headstone, was his car keys. “That’s weird,” he thought. “I didn’t see them there last night. I know they weren’t there.” He shivered in the damp air, as a cool breeze suddenly ruffled his hair. His eyes widened. It was Ghost. Ghost was somewhere…somewhere in the world, and was touching him…was sending him a spirit message with his mind. He breathed deep.
“Where are you, Ghost? Where are you? I can feel you reading my thoughts! Please, send me a sign you are near!” Steve pleaded. He paused to listen, believing as he’d never really done before, that such things were possible…at least possible with Ghost. Ghost always had a way of making Steve believe his crazy ideas and dreams…a way of twisting and bending reality.
So, when an early morning bird landed on top of the gravestone, cocked his head at him, and chirped, Steve wasn’t surprised. And, he wasn’t surprised that it was a blue bird…a sky blue bird. One feather floated down, when the bird flew away. Steve picked it up and whispered, “Ghost.”
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Next part coming soon!
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Thanks for visiting! Peace ☮️
© 2018 BS
***
This is a work of “fan fiction” based on the novel, “Lost Souls” by Poppy Z. Brite. All credit for the original characters, places, and some backstory mentions, belong to Ms. Brite and her publishing affiliates. Only newly introduced characters, places, and original elements of this story are entirely from my imagination. Character descriptions are a blend of the original book descriptions and my interpretation of them.
All songs included in this work will be solely owned by the original performers/writers and will be credited. Creative license is taken in including them in this story.
No harm is intended toward author, musicians, or people and situations to whom there may be a resemblance.
warning warning warning warning
The content herein is rated by me as being at the high end of MA (Mature Audience). It includes strong language, violence, sexual themes, including same sex pairings, religious themes, and fantasy horror.
teleportingweena 