Excerpts

From The Crissing Link: Poetic License - a poetic journey through the labyrinth of multiplicity New

Audio Excerpts

(:neo_mp3-player http://kinhost.org/pmwiki/uploads/Main/Poetic_License.mp3 :)

Excerpt from the Acknowledgments

Please note that I’m not saying by any means that people who violate children or the individual rights and freedoms of others should go unpunished. I am saying that, as a victim, it is my responsibility to get over it and move on in my own time, and it is my responsibility as a holy and spiritual being to recognize that which persists beyond this life and pay my respects to something so much larger than what we see on the surface, hear on the news, or read in biographies of those who have suffered the unthinkable.

Excerpt from the Introduction

I am diagnosed with multiple personalities, and I’ve chosen to live with it. And not simply to make the best of it, but actually enjoy it. We — The Crisses — would like to show you more about what it’s like for us. Bring it out into the light, along with dirty laundry. We’re going to tell the truth even though we have plenty that we might be better off hiding. We’re going to gloss over a great deal of details in the interest of keeping this book lightweight and empowering, and we’re not going to hold back on the queer or quirky thoughts we have.

Excerpt from Part II - Criss: 1986 to 1998

I was taken to a medical hospital by ambulance, a trip I can only remember with an amazing capacity for macabre humor. At this point the irony of the situation had gotten to what was left of my mind in my drug-induced haze. They performed exploratory surgery, and checked my organs. The stab wound in my abdomen missed everything. My first night was one of screaming for pain relief, as all the pills I had taken wore off, and in my pain-induced delirium, yet another Vision Quest of a lifetime full of them, I had a simple and short conversation with God. In essence:

“Wouldn’t it have been easier to let me die?”
You have a job to do.

Excerpt from Chapter 9 - Aliessa [of Crisses], poem "The Sacred Slut"

These people tell me what to do with my body,
Which is my temple,
In my bed,
Which is my altar.
They would like to tell me I cannot moan,
Which is my gospel.
They want to tell me whom I may worship with,
And how many,
And that I may never worship alone.

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