The Myrmidon

I used to like to call you my minions. But now, you shall be known as the Myrmidons.

From Wikipedia,

The Myrmidons (or Myrmidones; Greek: Μυρμιδόνες) were an ancient nation of Greek mythology. In Homer’s Iliad, the Myrmidons are the soldiers commanded by Achilles.[1] Their eponymous ancestor was Myrmidon, a king of Phthiotis who was a son of Zeus and “wide-ruling” Eurymedousa, a princess of Phthiotis. She was seduced by him in the form of an ant. An etiological myth of their origins, simply expanding upon their supposed etymology— the name in Classical Greek was interpreted as “ant-people”, from murmekes, “ants”— was first mentioned by Ovid, in Metamorphoses: in Ovid’s telling, the Myrmidons were simple worker ants on the island of Aegina.

Later use of the term
The Myrmidons of Greek myth were known for their loyalty to their leaders, so that in pre-industrial Europe the word “myrmidon” carried many of the same connotations that “robot” does today. “Myrmidon” later came to mean “hired ruffian” (according to the Oxford English Dictionary) or “a loyal follower, especially one who executes orders without question, protest, or pity, unquestioning followers.”

So who’s with me? Identify yourselves. Don’t be shy. 🙂

Thanks JohnB, for the heads up.

PS. My blog still looks like shit and I haven’t had the time to customize since I moved from my old blog. Bear with me as I make this place familiar and comfortable once again.

Mantra Part 2

A rehash of my old Mantra post. Under different circumstances this time.

First commandment when you’re ABOUT TO pursue a relationship with me.

1. Be intimidated, yes. I can do all sorts of crazy things to you. Call me ball-crusher, drama queen, enchantress, what have you. But thou shall NOT falter. No matter what.

I need to know…something. If you are that Superminion you claim to be.

Strawberry ice cream and other guilty pleasures aside, whenever somebody SCARES me, for some weird reason I end up hurting, and I become a walking disaster. I can’t really explain why I hurt, but I end up being on a self-destruction mode. I end up doing evil, cruel, unthought-of things.

I feel remorse after a while, though. And I hate myself for that.

I actually feel like shit, really. I know I can’t take things back, but don’t hate me. Please.

What Could Have Been, and Then Not.

Dear you,

I cannot do this. We cannot do this.

You have successfully disarmed me, stripped me naked. With what and how, I honestly don’t know. The last few nights have left me utterly overwhelmed. Vulnerable. I’m scared shitless.

Perhaps you think nothing of it; I don’t know what you’re thinking, really. But before this acquaintance gets complicated any further, please understand that I have to nip it at the bud before it blooms into anything and something I will no longer have any control of.

The last few days had me finding slowly reacquainted with the past’s painful shadow. You make me want to wear pink and giggle. Tolerate dickery and playfulness. Run barefoot through Freedom Park’s grassy field. Chain smoke and roll some joints of Sagada weed. Chug down a few bottles of beer in some dimly lit bar. Pout and rant and make pakipot like a 5-year old and still expect to be chased after a huge fight. Prove to you that I’m the coolest girlfriend you can ever have. You make me want to take care of you, to fuss over you, to be falsely mad at you so you will quit smoking. You make me blush unashamedly every time you catch me off guard. You make me realize what I have been yearning and missing out all this time – tenderness.

But I cannot allow her to resurface. She always gave everything she had, and when she did, she became self-destructive. What you have experienced in this brief encounter is a glimpse of a ghost, vainly trying to get out. What she doesn’t know is that she is dead.

You asked me that one thing that can make me truly happy. I think I can answer that now.

It’s coming into terms with myself, and living with the resolve that I will not allow myself to be that vulnerable and giving and stupid again.

I don’t know how I would live with myself after this, but I had a life before you. And I was fine with that. It was cold, lonely. But it made my heart intact, from breaking further from what remains of its shattered state. But you and your quiet strength make a mockery of what I have carefully crafted to protect myself all these years – trying to appear like I have it altogether, that I am strong, impenetrable. The Bitch Goddess.

I cannot, must not fall for you. And so forgive me for what I am about to do to you.

I’m walking away.

And this, perhaps, is the most selfish decision I have ever made. And I know I will regret it.

Take care, big guy. I could have almost loved you.

Slow Me Down

Rushing and racing
and running in circles
Moving so fast, I’m forgetting my purpose
Blur of the traffic is sending me spinning
Getting nowhere

My head and my heart are colliding, chaotic
Pace of the world
I just wish I could stop it
Try to appear like I’ve got it together
falling apart

Save me
Somebody take my hand, and lead me
Slow me down
Don’t let love pass me by
Just show me how
‘Cause I’m ready to fall
Slow me down
Don’t let me live a lie
Before my life flies by
I need you to slow me down

Sometimes I fear that I might dissapear
In the blur of fast forward I falter again
Forgetting to breathe, I need to sleep
getting nowhere

All that I’ve missed I see in the reflection
Passed me while I wasn’t paying attention
Tired of rushing, racing and running
falling apart

Tell me
Oh won’t you take my hand and lead me
Slow me down
Don’t let love pass me by
Just show me how
‘Cause I’m ready to fall
Slow me down
Don’t let me live a lie
Before my life flies by
I need you to slow me down

Just show me
slow me down, slow me down

The noise of the world is getting me caught up
Chasing the clock and I wish I could stop it
Just need to breathe, somebody please
Slow me down

– Emmy Rossum, Inside Out

Yawn

I’m supposed to be asleep by now. But no, my mind refuses to cooperate, thus this entry. It helps sometimes. I usually write late in the night when I can’t sleep. I’m running out of sleeping pills again, but I don’t want to take one now. Too late. I have to be up by 8 anyway. So that means by the time I’m finished with this entry and by the time I wake up, I’d have had 5 hours of sleep. Great. Sucks to be me.

Aaanyway.

Today was pretty mundane, if not boring save for one thing. You see, I’ve been in that “Me and You and Everyone We Know” kind of loop for a while. It’s getting pretty old, to be quite honest. I forgot how fun it is to talk to a random stranger. Interesting, even. Yes, I’m talking about you, Siomai.

I didn’t realize that some people, readers, voyeurs, minions, some of you are scared shit to talk to me. 

Why is that, I asked. I’m nice. I don’t bite. 

Ah, yes. The whole “mystery/dominatrix/Cleopatra/alpha-female” thing.

You’ve put me in a box, you fuckers.

Will you love me just the same if you found out that I’m just an act? Or if I’ve changed? Speaking of which, I remember somebody commented that I’ve changed. Don’t we all? Would you adore me less if I have? 

I’m a Leo. I bask in adulation. So yeah, give it to me. Now.

Kthxnyt.