Got a live one.

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Never sure.  Did something I viewed trigger an algorithm?  Did someone dig into past posts, and do the same?  Or is the ghost of a past or spirit of a still living woman I have known simply become a ghost in the, or my, machine.  I have known some very strange dames.  Is there any other kind though?  I suppose there is a spectrum, of which my women have always stretched, one way or another... if my nature probably enhances.

I do believe this event to be several of my former lovers, or one with serious lingering desire.  I have been psychicly blind for a bit.  It might seem a large bundle, all at once, but not be.  No, as the music, only some of which will be aired to save confusion... as much as that is possible, all appeared at once.

(So few get that the past, even the false, can be true in confusion.  Once that is cleared?  Even so, even false and known as such?  It still was, in a way, a form of history.  Denial of what was, or was perceived, is no more right than the fullness of the false itself.  Much as the mistakes of early mathematicians and physicists are better remembered than denied.)  Still, I will attempt to... keep it more easily followed.

This one bothered me at first, at once.  I thought of witchery, magic, of the female sort... all bad.  Then I looked again.  It was death, of several sorts, fates and maybe the ages  of a women, contesting, debating, or perhaps merely playing their, often, sad parts.  Her part was passive, not quite final, with a dark awakening even so.


This seemed a part of it.  I couldn't understand the words untiI I just listened in a final preview, in spite of having listened to it at least an half dozen times, in part from distrust.  I... am not convinced I understand rightly even now.  Women are... different, difficult to understand, even to my kind... perhaps more so.

Yeah.  This, no, yeah, I got.

In this one she stole two former notions I presented, stitched them together, to accuse and plead.  Her sadness and pleasure at my pain, wanting me to either perish or become the tyrant-monster who would set things right, or wrong, but settle it all with certainty and with a flourish.  Such fear.

While she was never that kind of girlfriend...  She literally said the title.  More, from the rest it is easy to see... influenced, hungry, troubled...  A sign of surrender, even to the strange.  Almost wishing what this song suggests, but not really.  Wanting me other than in her head, if they rhyme.

If there were rocks ahead?