Kathymom is dead... and it saddens me, not only because I knew someone like
her, but because you pain touches me. His name was Felix... but everyone
knew him simply as the chicken man. a fixture in the french quarter, every
native and commoner in the quarter remembered him... I had just been
destroyed by a woman that I had given up everything, literally everything,
house, home, property to be with. I was sitting at my table, needing cash,
but hoping no one would sit down for a tarot reading, and this five foot
raggedy man sat down. Hair streaked with white, a chicken bone sticking out
of his beard, velvet leggings, a coat of nappy fur (which I later learned
was made from nutria skin, his staff with various gris gris rattling
faintly... He looked me in the eyes and said simply...
"you are more than that woman... she make you happy, but she don' make you
be."
Then he got up, walked away, never looking back...
I saughthim out, and the Chicken man touched me over the next decade... it
was... WEIRD... he sent me several letters, never having sent himmy new
address...
Felix tought me many things... taught me the power of santeria, voudoun and
more... much more... more than most people in that time... (with three
notable exceptions - they know who they are) he was my friend... I left New
Orleans, but his insight, power and teachings stuck with me all that
time... two years ago... in october... Felix died... I recieved a letter...
ON THE DAY HE DIED... telling me so... A part of me died with him.
This forum is for those that move us in a mystical method, those who have
power and share it with us... alive or dead... a memorial to the beauty of
life...
[Edited on 9/3/2004 by feralucce]
____________________ The earth turns on a tilted axis - just doing the best it can.
Hohenheim of Light~Full Metal Alchemist
Schizo
Extreme Fanatic
Posts: 897 Registered: 31/12/1969 Status: Offline
posted on 3/9/2004 at 01:41 PM
Feral, that is very moving. I wish I had people like that in my life, but
I don't think they breed them in New England. We're all too prim and
proper and puritan to wear chicken bones in our beards, and to reticent to
tell someone we don't know all we know about them.
When we find mysterious people in New England, we burn them, don't you
know!
I'm am happy for your experience, and sorry for your loss. There should be
more Kathymoms and Chicken-men in this world.
____________________ "You can tell by the scars on my arms and the cracks in my hips and the
dents in my car and the blisters on my lips that I'm not the carefullest of
girls." - Dresden Dolls, "Girl Anachronism"