“The best women get chased, and the best men chase” – this advice was imparted to me at a young age, and I saw that it was true. Men want to chase someone and women want to be chased. Obvious, right?
The problem is, I have a willful personality. I’m not any kind of ‘warrior’ or physical beast, but I know what I want, and I figure out how to get it. In all other areas of my life, I was assertive and driven; but where men were concerned, I was afraid of rejection. I knew exactly who I wanted, but I needed to make them come after me.
Hot guys chased me all the time, but I wanted exactly who I wanted, and couldn’t settle for less. I didn’t want to demean my own worth as a woman by chasing my crushes outright, yet I was hopelessly obsessed. So I would lure them to chase me while feeling tortured over any sign of rejection, and essentially destroy myself over each one for years. This could have been resolved by simply asking them out and getting a direct answer, but I was terrified that would turn them off and I’d ruin my chance.
I fantasized about being a man so I could be more direct and woo my crushes through romantic acts. I wanted to exhibit chivalry and honor, and get down on my knees and serenade the beautiful boys who made my heart sing. I researched transgenderism, but I didn’t have body dysphoria and didn’t want to condemn myself to being a short guy with a high-pitched voice and female organs. The only place I could live out my fantasy relationships was in fiction. What a coincidence that I started writing books at age 11.
Subtlety and coyness did not suit me, and the attempt to fit that role made me less appealing. I came to terms with this in my late 20s and began taking direct initiative when needed. Since I’m attracted to shy men, this dynamic worked out well, and I finally had good relationships.
Still, this does not mean that I want to be “in charge.” I need a guy who holds his own, who defends women, and who is strong and firm in his own mind, but who finds my willfulness sexy. It’s an absolute necessity because otherwise I’d spend my whole life pretending I’m someone else, and that is not sexy or honest. But I do not want someone that backs out of a fight, expects me to carry all the weight, or allows me to dominate him. He needs to hold his own in an argument, a decision, a fight. He needs to be a man.
In short, I need to be with someone I respect. How could I respect someone if I completely dominate him?
I did not have what it took to attract the right man when I was ‘waiting for them to make a move’ and playing games. I needed to be real about who I am, in order to attract someone equally real. And now that I found my soulmate in Kilian, I am driven to nurture and worship him. It turns me on that I cannot dominate him intellectually, emotionally or physically, and I trust that nobody can.
I feel like a lot of these messages about ‘men and women’ miss these human, grey areas; where a woman doesn’t need to fit the ‘submissive’ mold to the T, yet there is still room to express her will in an honest, loving relationship; without being a dominant warrior who “doesn’t need a man.”
We all need to figure out what type of balance we are personally comfortable with. And there are as many shades of men as there are women; so there is always someone who fits with any woman who discovers who she is and expresses it with an open heart.
I don’t like freedom, I feel like I’m not really alive unless I know what I’m willing to die for; and what trajectory I’m on. When I hear “freedom” I hear “nothing to lose” – which is not attractive to me, especially because I’ve been there, involuntarily. All it is, is hunger.
I need a reason to get up in the morning, a sense of purpose that remains constant; something that runs so deep in my bones, I trust it will fuel me for several lifetimes, if only I could live that long. Music did this for me; and my fantasy series, although that has more of a ‘slow burn’ effect during some periods, whereas music is always on red-hot fire mode.
People seem to hold freedom as some kind of ideal. To me, freedom exists only within limits. Meaning there’s something I have to do, somewhere I have to be, some deadline I have to meet. Mortality is intrinsically a limit, so our minds are programmed to exist within it; and I’m all too aware , due to illness, that I could die at any time. To me freedom is knowing that while I was here, I lived. I did something meaningful, valuable, highly specific. Something expressed itself through me. I need to know I surrendered to a force greater than myself — the divine symmetry of music; the epic tapestry of my fictional world. The rhythm of life.
Freedom is knowing that if the illness takes me from my body tomorrow, I won’t regret what I did (or didn’t do) with my life. Freedom is knowing my purpose is strong enough that I can justify consuming plants and meat and other resources to survive. That my life was worth the sacrifice of all those other living entities. (It’s not really worth it, but at the very least, I know those sacrifices didn’t go to waste if my life has meaning .) Without meaning, it seems more morally justifiable to take my own life.
‘Freedom’ … it’s empty. It’s cold. It’s nothingness, formless. At least in the sense of being “free of obligation, free of constraint.” Give me something worth fighting for, something worth dying for. That’s freedom. If I die fighting for it, I’m free to die in peace.
~ If it’s not Worth Doing in Excess, it’s not Worth Doing at All ~
Over the past decade, I have engaged an obsessive study of typology, with focus on Enneagram and Jungian functions. Both systems have been reinterpreted ad nauseum, but I took a holistic approach. Recently, I discovered a more scientific angle on cognitivetype.com, whose basis for typing, known as vultology, rests on the premise that cognition reveals itself in observable expressions. There, I was typed as SeFi based on vultology signals, which matched the psychology I portrayed in a video I submitted and the archetypes I highlighted in my art. Since then I’ve been in communication with the leading writer of this website, and my SeFi psychology has been confirmed on multiple levels.
The four functions in my type are Se, Fi, Te and Ni. My creative work is heavily focused on Fi and Ni, yet my vultology showed that my Se and Te functions were fully conscious in my typing video. Naturally, this distinction intrigued me, and I’ve been reflecting on it since I was typed. After some thought, and interaction on the website, we concluded that I am Fi conscious as well. Here, I will unpack the development and expression of my functions, as they manifested in different forms over the years.
~ Music is Divine Symmetry ~
Morality, inner compass and ability to form crystallizations are all part of the Ji function. I suspect this was more developed in my youth. At age 11, I parsed out music theory on my own, and could sight-read chord charts while transposing at the same time. At 15, I took a theory test at Berklee College of Music, and my scores placed me in top classes alongside the eldest professionals. I mastered each modicum of my 4.5 octave range and scored 100% in state competitions which required singing opera in foreign languages. Additionally, I scored 99th percentile on standardized math tests, won awards for Latin and French, and embodied strong personal values. Singing was my life path, and at 13, my career began.
Everything changed at age 16, when Lyme Disease nearly killed me. After that, my math scores dropped to 30th percentile and I was unable to remember or learn foreign languages. Brain scans showed damage to my cognition which improved with Lyme treatment, but never fully recovered. This brought on disintegration of Ji: I lost my ability to ‘delicately parse things out.’ Worse, I was left speaking in a whisper, with no hope of recovering my voice. This left me bereft of the music career I had been pursuing for my whole life, stripping me of my hard-earned talents and dreams.
~ So Carnal, it’s Spiritual ~
As my life path slipped from my grasp, moral clarity evaded me. I involved myself with men that fell short of my ideals, did drugs even though it was against my previous convictions, and made other compromises to my once rigid standards. This is how I devolved into my most base form, Anäeia – short for ‘Annihilate.’ She was a conquerer, heartbreaker, hooked on drugs, sex and appetite; an animal. Anäeia is pictured here with an LSD tablet on her tongue, hungry and ready to feed, with men in the background. Most photographs of her are nude, scarred and bruised, jarring to the senses, yet magnetic. The sheer wildness of her encapsulates the idea that you’re only free when you have nothing to lose. She embodies the myth of the dark trickster which encapsulates my primary cognitive function: Se.
Anäeia was a vampire, undead yet not alive; stripped of her humanity. She was an animal and a symbol of something primal, but not human. Her trajectory had been ripped from her ruthlessly, leaving her bereft of direction and dignity. She hunted to fulfill the desires of the flesh, but what she yearned for most deeply was the soulfelt sense of purpose she once possessed, and the innocent wonder that spawned from it. Without Ji (conviction and purity) and Pi (long term development of an internal map), she was unleashed, hungry, and empty.
I longed to recover my innocence and to embody my deeper calling once again. In a desperate attempt to reorient myself, I studied Jung, pored over my psyche and learned to explore and control my dreams. I would often take LSD and restrict myself to specific artistic mediums to see what was residing in my unconscious. When I was sober, I would compare the results to old diaries, photographs and music I’d written, mourning the loss of hope and seeking a coherent narrative.
Over the years, I rebuilt my values and redirected my trajectory toward a purpose. My reawakening began when I rose from the ashes, singing through my whisper and leading a band to perform my music. The albums were attached to stories and concepts which were expressed through three manifestations of myself: Erica Xenne (Fi), Prince Ruby Valentine (Ni), and Riki Jane Wild (Te). I did not know cognitive functions at the time, but this happened organically, and the orientation of each alter-ego is clear.
~ Art is the Blood of the Exile ~
The surname Xenne combines ‘foreigner’ or ‘stranger’ in the prefix Xen- with ‘not’ in the suffix -Ne. I was alone in an alien world, but no longer a stranger to myself. I often wore white when I sang in my youth; likewise, Erica Xenne was depicted in white. She resurrected the ghost of my voice and, along with it, my innocence.
White is essentially Ji: it reflects the colors of the world, but doesn’t absorb them. It mirrors them through music, art and empathy, while remaining separate and true to itself. My original form was a singer whose music connected to the heart of life; in the Erosia Myth, Erica Xenne embodies this. The magical muse believes in her love for Prince Ruby and holds on to her principles at any cost. She was born from two people playing music together, absent of any physical contact, and raised by animals in the outer islands of Erosia. Thus, she was made of pure music and life-force, divorced from any particular species or culture; an entity unto herself. Since the songs came from her, I wore white when I sang through my whisper. She embodied the druidic myth of Fi, connecting to the heart of the world in a pure, primal manner, unhindered by social standards and earthly trauma, immune to the corruption in the world, retaining her integrity. Yet ultimately, she left Erosia, sacrificing her magic power (singing) to follow Ruby into exile. Though she was warned that Dystopia would corrupt their souls and they could never return to Erosia, she was determined, at the very least, to keep Erosia alive in Ruby’s heart.
~ Without a Muse, Music is just Math ~
Prince Ruby Valentine was a mysterious man of royalty. Unlike Erica, Ruby was tied to a wider context from the moment of conception, and he remained determined to untangle its implications throughout his life. He was born to Queen Onyx Valentine, the best ruler Erosia ever knew, but she died in childbirth. He rejected the duties and accolades he was afforded as a Prince, as they seemed inappropriate to him under these conditions, and instead took a vow of silence, determined to communicate only through music, poetry, prose and art, resisting the widespread effort to fill the air with meaningless words. He retreated to a cabin in the woods and lured all manner of creatures with the call of his guitar. The Erosia myth portrays the story of his exile from Erosia, resulting from his failure to believe in love, but his depth lies elsewhere.
From his earliest days, Prince Ruby contemplated the God of Erosia, known as Nokoma (“Animal” in his own language), who was credited for giving birth to Erosia. Ruby wanted to unravel the story behind this and to understand Nokoma’s life as a mortal man, to unpack Erosia’s roots and cosmic significance. It was the “Ruby” inside me who spawned the fantasy series about Nokoma’s evolution from man to God, which became my life’s work. Together, Ruby and Erica elected to write the series from the perspective Nokoma’s soulmate; they both understood she was his “compass.” Nokoma’s lover embodies “Ji” and is drawn to white and gold, but Nokoma himself mirrors me. In contemplating Nokoma, Ruby is drawn to religions, symbols, typology, archetypes and more, to place both ‘self’ and ‘God’ in a wider context and tap into the rhythms of the world that connect all things, embodying Ni. He views the world on a cosmic scale where everything is connected and remains detached from the present, as portrayed in the sardonic biography he posts on his profiles: “The line – between myth and religion, dream and reality, making love and fucking – is drawn wherever you start believing. Believe what you will and have your way with me. Yours, Prince Ruby Valentine.”
~ Tell me the Odds; I’ll Beat them Senseless ~
The trinity is completed by Riki Jane Wild, the “manager,” of the band. She is excluded from the Erosia myth because she is from Earth, named after my father Richard and my mother, Jane. She met Erica after she was exiled to Dystopia, heard her struggling to sing through her whisper, decided there was something fruitful and marketable in that fight, and designated herself Erica’s manager. She was more reluctant to take Ruby under her wing, as he appeared lost and aimless, but she eventually came to appreciate his hidden genius and the way it inspired Erica.
Erica resisted the idea of organizing an album, as the songs were written for Ruby, who was against ‘trapping a song in a cage,’ but Riki convinced her that in spite of his ravings, he would appreciate her compiling memories of Erosia. If not him, others might remember their own personal utopia and overcome setbacks to achieve their dreams. Erica was moved by this idea, and agreed to buckle down in the studio.
Riki helped Erica to organize her project and battle her many symptoms, to sing despite tremendous odds. She managed Erica’s band, booked shows, auditioned musicians, promoted events, made fliers, took pictures, photoshopped, edited video, and reminded Erica to stop poring over each note so she could finish larger projects. Erica was determined to capture a perfect reflection of Erosia in the album, to feed Ruby some life and remind him of his heart; but Riki enforced deadlines and made sure the album was released. She understood that ideals were meaningless without concrete results. As stated in the myth of Te, she served to remind Erica, “your goals don’t care about your feelings.” Due to Riki’s iron hand, the musicians who played shows with the band ‘Erosian Exile’ lovingly referred to her as “Hitler.”
The mythology of Erica Xenne and Prince Ruby Valentine worked together in tandem, incomplete without the presence of the other, and neither one was capable of manifesting on Earth without Riki, who worked to capture their musings in concrete form. Riki was dedicated to this pair, but also embarked on her own journey: she wrote about politics and other topics extraneous to the band, found jobs, fulfilled responsibilities, and engaged Earthly activities for their own sake. Indeed, the Te development was independent.
~ A Vessel through which Passion Emerges ~
Anäeia was so hungry and expansive, she left no room for additional alter-egos. To create the beast, she destroyed the human I had been before. She is the shadow of my current incarnation, which is more holistic, as it combines destruction and creation, passion and purpose, love and war, now and eternity.
I have come to sense that, at any given moment, I am animal, human and symbol at once. Animal is my visceral survival instincts (desire, hunger, carnality); human is my conceptualization of my experience (ideas, endeavors, beliefs); and symbol is my legacy (image, archetype, energy). I cannot control my symbolism, as it is determined by how others view me; however, if my animal and human are balanced, then my symbolism comes to match my sense of self.
Recently, I was informed that my work was reminiscent of the Goddess Kali. I researched her and discovered that her mythos reflected mine, from my aesthetic to my mission. Like me, her ‘nudity’ – artistic, physical or psychological – strips others of their illusions, laying their truth bare. Cycles of resurgence encapsulate my life in the manner of a phoenix; likewise, Kali represents the dissemination of the boundary between life and death, illuminating the timeless and infinite. Kali incorporates my deepest purpose, which is why I channeled her unbeknownst to myself, and she is often associated with the Se-Ni axis in the Gamma quadra. Taking each function separately, as well as Gamma as a whole, it is clear that the manifestations of myself – which are well documented through photos, writing and music – match with these function delineations and their mythology.
The wild pink/red beast, hungry, vampiric and bold (Se)
The pure moral compass wearing white, at one with nature, druid reflecting the heart of life in her song (Fi)
Riki Jane Wild
The Earthly “get-to-it” manager, sassy bitch and speaker of political truths (Te)
Prince Ruby Valentine
The ‘allusion’ or ‘hint’ of something you cant quite see, the shadow, figure in the distance, magnetizing animals and women, raving unintelligibly, weaving a tapestry of archetypes, tapping into the rhythm of the world (Ni)
Nokoma – Animal – Volcana
The vessel through which passion emerges; the phoenix rising from the ashes. Timeless symbol of resurrection and fight, holding a mirror to the world to show them the bold, naked truth until their illusions explode; deathless, naked and eternal (Gamma)
When it comes to lust, most people cant touch the outermost edges of my extremes. Some people need more sex than I, but my lust still knows no bounds.
It’s not just about the body – it’s about a need to own the person completely; to conquer his soul. To possess, rule and infiltrate every fucking inch of his mind, body, heart; even his dreams and his past. To have him do the same with me. I want absolutely no pebble unturned, no corner of his mind that I can’t reach, no lost memory that I haven’t ravaged for everything it’s worth. I need to be King, Queen, Princess, Prince and people to him. He is my dominion and I am his.
Lust is even more dangerous perhaps, for me, than those who are purely physical. Because the physical will never approach the depths I need to infuse in order to feel even a drop of satisfaction for a mere moment and then hunger for more. The universe is not big enough to compete with the lengths I will go to in order to reach every fucking corner of every past life and every future life; to completely own him. Limits, boundaries, ‘good ‘ and ‘bad,’ dirty… none of this has any place in this world. His soul will be devoured down to the last grain until there is nothing left between us but øne.
I was thinking about my name, looking at the root “ven” for venus, veins, and “hunter.”
I’ve gone through one incarnation already, from Erica Brand (who died with my voice) to Erica Xenne (who resurrected the ghost of my voice from the dead after being exiled from passion). Xen means foreigner/stranger, which is what I became when I was exiled from Erosia through that loss.
Now, I feel I’ve stepped into the space of my ultimate purpose. As a child, I always saw my desire mirrored in Venus, Aphrodite and the like, though it was never quite dark and destructive enough. In this sense, Kali is perfectly in line with what I related to and the “Goddess” symbol I was looking for. I hadn’t heard of her when people started telling me they saw her mark all over my art. Her name means time/eternity and “black” (the shadow self, death). I relate to her volcanic, destructive-creative nature, and the eternity inherent in cycles of death and rebirth (phoenix). Also, the carnal-spiritual blend. “So carnal it’s spiritual.”
People often tell me I look like Botticelli Venus, but it’s too innocent and pure a depiction for what I am. I am a destructive force.. sex is transformative. And it goes beyond sex. Passion and purpose itself is what I embody. Creativity, diving deep into the darkness in oneself to come out the other side, burning alive so you transform fully – this is what I embody.
Xenne was only the beginning stage, as I was a stranger, reborn. But I need something that combines the soul-marking power of Brand with the reanimation – the self-discovering, self-actualizing and autonomous/alien nature of Xenne.
Brand was my original voice – it left a powerful mark on people and was physically strong. Xenne was my new voice – foreigner, stranger, exiled from my power, coming to terms with my rebirth and resurrecting my voice as a ghost. Xen- (stranger) -Ne (Not). I reclaimed myself by singing through my whisper, making a powerful statement out of my loss and exile.
My new name would be the process itself; the process of branding and transforming, dying and rebirthing, destruction and creation. This unites the two. And it would also show that I am more than my singing voice and its incarnations. I am a vessel through which passion itself emerges. Desire is the force that drives all living beings, and my purpose in life is to mirror it in my work.
My given name, ‘Erica,’ suits me in meaning. My parents did not do this on purpose, but they accidentally named me after my father. Erica is a derivative of Richard. By keeping Erica I’m not only preserving the name my parents gave me, my father’s name specifically (since the surname is usually the father’s name; not because I have him in some hierarchy over my mother).
I want to change my middle name to Jane, my mother’s name. My given name is Erica Kelman Brand. Kelman is my mother’s maiden name. I’d like it to be Erica Jane, since Erica carries “Richard” within it and Jane is her name. (“Jon,” my brother’s name, is also the name from which Jane is a derivative.) This would preserve the family connection in my mind. And I am very close to my family. I also like the meaning of Erica.
The given name Erika, or Erica, is a feminine form of Eric, deriving from the Old Norse name Eiríkr (or Eríkr in Eastern Scandinavia due to monophthongization). The first element, ei- is derived either from the older Proto-Norse *aina(z), meaning “one, alone, unique”, as in the form Æinrikr explicitly, or from *aiwa(z) “long time, eternity”. The second element -ríkr stems either from *ríks “king, ruler” (cf. Gothic reiks) or from the therefrom derived *ríkijaz “kingly, powerful, rich”. The name is thus usually taken to mean “sole ruler, autocrat” or “eternal ruler, ever powerful”.
Unique/one/alone, ever powerful, eternity/time, autonomous (sole ruler)…. this is me. I would not change it. I am the sole ruler of my own destiny (though I choose to do Kilian’s bidding, since he is my muse), and a powerful force behind the creation of a universe.
As for a possible surname for my current incarnation (likely my final one in this lifetime), I like the prefix “Ven.” In Sanskrit, “Desire.” In the dictionary it is associated with both Venus and Veins. I like Veins because I’m a vessel through which passion emerges. So I may look into a second half of this name that embodies my Kali nature and also my sense of purpose: to be a vessel through which passion emerges, and ideally, to create mirrors in which others can see their true nature, bare and exposed. As I said above: Desire is the force that drives all living beings, and my purpose in life is to mirror it in my work.
This is also very Kali. Her nudity is a symbol of honesty with oneself about the soul, the forces that drive them, birth life and death, desire laid bare.
My final name must incorporate desire/hunger (as the force that drives all beings) desire laid bare, naked desire – but also, chasing or hunting. That would tie it in with the idea that desire is what drives us to hunt. Sort of like “passion and purpose.” Mixed with some idea of ‘eternity,’ this would be the perfect name. So carnal it’s spiritual.
This is my message to the heartless manipulators who try to shame me for my honesty and my open romance with natural beauty and love. My nudity- whether it be physical or psychological – is only offensive to those who have something to hide. My nudity burns their eyes and makes them feel exposed, so they try to cover me up and make me shrink away like they do, so they can cower safely behind their masks. When that doesn’t work they create rumors and stories around the meaning of my nudity, trying to cover it up with fantasies. “She wants me, she cheats on her husband, she’s a whore, it’s a scheme!”
Yet I remain naked, open, honest and true, in all of my beauty, suffering and errors: I remain true. Psychological nudity, physical nudity, emotional nudity, mental nudity.. I am what I am, and I am here to stay. Murder me, and I will haunt you in another form. Murder all the lovers in the world, and the monsters in your head will strip you naked in your nightmares. My nudity is a force of nature, and it is not going ANYWHERE. Your only chance against me is to free yourself from your lies before the fire of truth burns you alive.
“Kali’s nudity has a similar meaning. In many instances she is described as garbed in space or sky clad. In her absolute, primordial nakedness she is free from all covering of illusion. She is Nature (Prakriti in Sanskrit), stripped of ‘clothes’. It symbolizes that she is completely beyond name and form, completely beyond the effects of maya (illusion). Her nudity is said to represent totally illumined consciousness, unaffected by maya. Kali is the bright fire of truth, which cannot be hidden by the clothes of ignorance. Such truth simply burns them away.”
I did not fall from grace.
I clawed my way through my own inner hell and traveled so deep beyond its core that I caught glimpses of the other side.
I had wonderful, loving parents.
But I was not innocent, idealistic or good. My hope, innocence and goodness had to be earned, if ever I was to discover them at all.
What about you?
I was in some ocean city with a weird electromagnetic building and I kept having visions – or maybe watching previews – of this giant building which looked like a crystal lump from afar, lighting up electrically and sinking into the ocean.
I remember walking past the building with you on the bridge in the same place where I had seen the vision of something odd exuding weird light and blowing up. So one day I went into it. I seemed to know my way around. The decorations were amazing low yellowish light, bone made art, wooden bookshelves, combo between rustic and steampunk, but the steampunk vibe was not explicit. As I walked through the aisles, I saw Brady, my first love. It was still the same setting, but felt like a dimension somewhere had shifted. I was emotionally by myself, you weren’t in my heart yet.
I locked eyes with him and we moved through the shelves in the shared mindset (I could feel it) that we needed to work this out once and for all. So we talked in these dark kind of serious but nostalgic tones for a bit. Then some women saw us. They looked like they were part of the setting… their style was in line with the rustic steam punk vibe, and it felt as though they knew something about us on a level that we needed to be cautious of. So, we headed behind bookshelves quietly and then, as we rounded corners, I looked over and saw the woman following us and her two friends. She was black looking with long hair and gigantic heart lips, bold as fuck, with a small dark gold axe in her hand and leathers on her body that signaled me she was some kind of warrior.
She looked over at ….Salvador (my best friend). It was as though he had been the one sneaking through the shelves with me, and his outfit suggested familiarity with the place… he was either from there, or knew about it and dressed to match. But this was his full style, like his real heart was born in this outfit. There was bone and claw jewelry involved. The woman stared at him. She wanted him. He and I knew we needed to keep to ourselves and somehow, I knew he felt like he could not let her find something out. So I looked at him and he was staring at her, unflinching, but I know he also knew I was watching and was telling me he would take care of this and confuse her (not in words). But I looked at her. She looked like evil other-planet warrior leaders in her vibe and garb, confident, in charge and ready to have her way. I did not know fully what that meant but I guessed, as I watched her watching him, that it was at least partly sexual.
I looked back at…you. She was looking at you and you at her, but you looked more statuesque, more ..dangerous. You had an outfit similar to how that place was and how Salvador’s outfit suited it, but you were a darker evolution or perhaps something more base. The sense i got was “bone claws.” And bone necklaces with claws and another that had special power. And snake rings on your fingers. Blackness around your eyes like those photos we took, and you staring through it in a similar way. Destruction was near and it was inevitable, but you didn’t give a flying fuck..bring it on. That was your vibe.
As she stared at you and you at her, you glanced at me, met my eyes and had a smile in your eyes. It wasn’t obvious.. it was a kitty glare, with some sarcasm. But I knew, I knew you were going to lure her from afar but if she got too close… destroy.
She looked at me and said something. I forgot but something like, I will have him. None can resist me.
I knew.no other could resist her. But I had no shred of doubt.. I knew resistance would be a much better outcome for her than what was actually going to happen, but I didn’t know what it was. I said to her go ahead. Try . But I think I only said it with my eyes.
She said aloud, something like: are you sure. He will not resist.
I saw no point denying her the right to move in on you because I knew from how she stood that she did not see me as an obstacle. I could say no, he’s mine, but it would mean nothing. In her mind (the energy gathered from below the hips which was thinking for her, both about sex and conquering or destroying in a bigger way) you were already hers physically and she was doing me a courtesy by pretending I had the option to give you away. If I said no, it wouldn’t stop her, but would signal weakness or provoke a physical brawl that I could not win. She had that axe, and the look of a woman who could conquer cities in one night. Her friends would also do her demands, slim short haired sleek beauties with no soul.
I looked at you. You would not budge – your eyes said so.
I looked at her, signaling to go ahead, with a half smile like: how do you possibly think you can break through what we have? I was not worried; I found it amusing and absurd. I said either aloud or to myself , something like “i dare you.”
She approached you. As you stared at her coming towards you, your body language revealed she was going to lose. You were so solid it warmed my soul, but it was also unsettling. Salvador, when he was there, had the look of knowing he was in control (though I was not convinced, but at the very least that was his aim).. you had the look of, do whatever you want but if you cross this point and come too close… OBLITERATION.
But you did not think it was destructive. She deserved it, it was a dare, she could still have time to leave, and her friends would be stupid as fuck to not run away afterwards.
She got to you and there was a stare down, very brief and fleeting, but it felt like time slowing down. Then she reached forward to choke you, probably only to induce a rush but not to kill you. One of the snakes on your fingers suddenly hissed and wrapped itself around her finger, then her neck. As the snake choked her and she tried to choke it, which lasted only seconds and happened so fast that I’m not sure what happened and who was hurting who, the world turned to.. light. A magnetic unnatural light that felt almost not there, like it sucked us into a void.
I watched you and you watched me but there was no time to move; everything was changing to another dimension where there was no form, even though perhaps it was temporary, and not like death. I knew though, in that last moment, that although you were in obliterating mode, you had no idea this would happen.
Then I was watching through the eyes of someone else, a middle aged male reporter watching the same building from across the water, and someone beside him took footage. It was the same crystal edged bizarre structure falling into the water while light came out of it everywhere that I had seen in my visions. And so many I loved were inside.. including myself.
The world was shaking, darkening. We have to stop it, a voice shouted. The world is ending! It finally happened! Etc. But while some panicked, some seemed to feel there was a way to stop it and things could change. Darkness swallowed the world as all of these sentiments floated around and I realized that was why Salvador was there. But his presence opened the path to something base, and you had somehow moved through it and materialized in that spot. No matter what Salvador or we had done, this would have found a way to happen. The electromagnetic dimension and time shifting energy of the place had a mind of its own and we were instruments to enact its will, you most of all, Salvador more of a messenger. And I was your reason to not go along with the flow of the place, to obliterate the forces that be, rather than to lose your soul. You changed the rhythm of life. Salvador and I both danced right along with it and you heard it best somehow. Your danger outfit, the black around your eyes… you were the destruction while also being the only one that did not play along. Or perhaps that is exactly what you did.
But now our only hope to be together or be the same again was out of our hands. And I don’t know what form we were in or how we could come out if we ever did. But I felt we would emerge and our souls would be charged with something very, very powerful that would require training and presence of soul to control. We would be the next force to set the other forces. Not gods but beings of energy that glowed from within us and could be so powerful that it was a responsibility to channel it. But that was only how i felt, if we emerged at all.
“Four years ago, Erica had a dream. Standing on a snowy rise, she was captivated by the sight of a stranger. He wore a long dark coat, just like hers. As their eyes met, they both recognized the familiar sight of destiny. They knew, from a single stare; they are One.
For all of her life, she had been writing stories about this stranger, this one man amongst men, who possesses the very soul that has been, and always will be, intertwined with her own. And for as surely as she knew this, she saw that he recognized the same. He too, had written countless stories about her, and dreamed about many delights.
No word was spoken, no question was asked. For truth had been felt, their hearts had been joined. They knew, that from that moment forward, they belonged together and would be, for the rest of their lives.
He took her hand, and put his arm around her. Together, they walked up the frosty hill. The couple approached a square shaped pool, with its surface frozen over. Surrounding it were wooden cabins, each with a large, cozy firepot placed on the porch. There were people playing acoustic guitars, there was singing, and there was eating by the fires.
The two lovers presented themselves to everyone, greeting all with heartfelt warmth, and leaving no doubt that the two of them belonged together.
After she awakened, Erica was convinced that she would, indeed, meet this man. Her heart knew the man in her dream was real, and that he was looking for her too.
When Erica first saw Kilian’s eyes, she recognized the gaze of the man of her dream. She recognized her soulmate. Just like in the dream, both she and he only needed one look to know they had imagined each other before, and that they were always meant to be.
As they got to know each other better over time and text, Erica discovered that Kilian possesses traits she had always associated with the man in her dream. Traits she had written down before to make sure to never forget.
In many ways, the universe shows us deep truths. It tells us many stories, from the making of time, to the dawn of men. And so, as it had happened before, Erica and Kilian met, and recognized destiny in each other’s gaze.”
I married my soulmate, Kilian, on Valentine’s Day. Our Ceremony Speech, about how we recognized each other, was a true story. I recounted it to Kilian and he wrote it out for our lovely priestess Lauren to read.
“This is what I mean when I refer to self-expression. I do my best to share my personal truth but people will not always interpret it the way it is meant. This is why I refer to artwork as a mirror. When I create it, it’s my mirror, but when someone else views it, it’s their own mirror to see as they see fit. This is why I don’t believe two people can truly understand each other, but in essence we are all the same, so if we understand what makes us human then we really understand what is essential about each other perfectly.”
– Erica Xenne, 2013
“On a deeper level, I live to expose my true self through my work. I feel I’m a vessel through which songs and stories emerge. The content serves as a mirror. It exposes parts of myself that are buried deep within my subconscious, and which might otherwise remain unnoticed. In sharing my work, I hope to function as a mirror for others. What success means, to me, is knowing that my fight to sing on my album, despite speaking in a whisper, has inspired someone else to create her own artwork. Success is hearing someone quote my lyrics or reference my stories because it expresses something SHE is feeling. I want people to see themselves in my work, rather than merely seeing “me.” I want to touch on something universal. And, through bearing my own soul, I hope to inspire others to express themselves honestly, and to pursue their dreams against all odds.”
-Erica Xenne, 2012
“I am driven to channel and embody all that I am. I feel I’m not really alive unless I know what I’m willing to die for, and this is it – to be a vessel through which passion emerges. By ‘passion,’ I mean the Life Principle. Fire, Anima, Life, Erosia. Passion, for me, is a Force of Nature. It also has a dark side; one’s ‘sins’ – and I don’t run from that. I aim to lure my demons out of the closet to dance with my angels and merge. If I suffocate them, isolate them, shun them – they will destroy. That’s why I am Animal and not Anima. So Carnal it’s Spiritual.”
-Erica Xenne, 2019