Ah Ariadne, I beg for a silken thread–a thread of pure, unadulterated conversation. There is no peace to be had, and no light to be seen when every conversation on the internet is infested with agents provocateurs. And, as you know, my labyrinthine life has lost its light and its joy, taken over as it is by the lovers of dogs–german shepherds in K-9 units and local law enfarcers who interrupt my thoughts on a daily basis, their voices of dogs and war and death fill my sleep, and dig tunnels underneath me, even as I spot the light at the end of the abyss .
A silken thread–I have not had a conversation for decades–with anyone–wherein I didn’t have an underlying presumption that it had been per-infilltrated by dialogues of the Huntress, or agents of those who purport to be Zeus or her murderous kin.Where oh where, Ariadne, might thou be? My hands are tired of clawing at rocks, my voice weak from talking to myself or the walls, hearing only echoes, and taken aback by their voices–hoarse, and coming up bloody handed, I appeal to you.
And I am not asking for a Hawaiian shirt or embroidered cheongsam either, just a thread…a thread that discusses the Huntress, and her fondness and hunger for virgins every seven or nine years (and that pesky seven second delay that I was on until fairly recently); a thread that acknowledges the cult of motherhood and its laisez faire approach to allowing/sacrificing their children to die horribly so that they may live to see their Social Security payout), and how it has been infiltrated by war gods and goddesses hell bent of subverting the youth into breedbaskets and boykillers….
Artemis, who causes fear in nine year old girls, and “Okeanus’ daughters were filled with fear, but the young Artemis bravely approached and asked for bow and arrows. Callimachus then tells how Artemis visited Pan, the god of the forest, who gave her seven bitches and six dogs,”
….this Artemis, is my enemy, Ariadne. I have named her, and I wish for that thread– to protect my daughter from her and hers.