Anna is a confusing character of many names

Anna, a name I detested as old-fashioned is indeed old…old as time.

Never knew King Arthur had a sister (perhaps half-sister) named Anna. She’s sometimes referred to as Morgause but that’s a place-name, referring to where she’s from. Like Magdalyn. S

Anna even slept with her brother Arthur and had a child named Mordred. I can’t seem to get away from the incest theme in my fiction or research. Is it me or is incest that common?

Doesn’t matter, really. 2 consenting adults…around the same age…the rest is technicalities. As long as the kid’s not born with 3 eyeballs. And genetic horrors don’t necessarily show up until there’s been mixing going on for a few generations.


One comment on “Anna is a confusing character of many names

  1. Yeah, and now I know why, finally. I have dissociative identity disorder. Call me Sybil. Gotta break gotta break gotta break glass…

    holy sheeet….when I was in high school, a friend and I used to write notes back and forth playing ‘sybil’ with just such crazed statements. From the mouths of babes. I knew what i was back then. I just never had the amnesia or fugue states…never had a different name…

    there’s degrees to multiple personality disorder. The crap you see on movie of the week is the most sensationalized of the people suffering the most tragic effects. Most of us go through life being more or less off beat, wierd, working hard to cover up and act normal, never realizing just what it is that is wrong with us. Or what it is that triggers us.

    Once we get a handle on that, we function as well as any of you crazy people who have no idea you are crazy at all. So there.

    When I worked as an RN on a psychiatric unit (because having been healed on psychiatric units through my 20’s, they seemed the only safe place for me to be 40 hours a week) And it turned out to be a wonderful choice. I learned compassion. I learned not to be afraid of people, even people who were a little off.

    In fact, I’m far more scared of normal people in suits and ties than I am of raving drunks in gutters. The ravers are my people. They recognize me. I am a crazy magnet and I don’t mind it one bit. You too, can get just un-crazy enough to survive and thrive in this wacked-out world without compromising your sense of reality. Even when that reality clashes ferociously, horribly, terrifyingly, existentially critically with everyone elses.
    I am here to tell you….YOU ARE OK.

    THEY ARE the CRAZY ones. Love yourself. Love them too. They are okay. They are simply too afraid to see the truth. Don’t despise them. Don’t be afraid of them. Don’t feel superior to them. They can learn just like we have. They simply choose not to because they’re fine.

    We weren’t fine. We were never FINE in their normal world. That’s not their fault. It’a not our fault, either. We must learn to get along. Adore one another despite, nay even BECAUSE of our differences. Because that’s how we learn. I learn how to be more civil, less harsh, more kind. You learn to let your Freak Flag fly once in a while and see it’s okay. Fun even. We can meet and have a blast. We don’t have to be together 24/7. We’d drive each other nuts.

    But a little taste of the different…it’s good for the soul. And you never know. You may be one of us…and have always been too afraid to let it show. Now’s your chance. We won’t laugh. Promise. If you promise not to shame us or laugh at us or be mean and derisive and horrid like you were when I was 13. Because that would truly drive me round the bend.

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