Blindfolded Hypocrisy

Trauma fueled fire

Finding my own desire

Can feel my heart beat

Like a million fires

Can’t quit

This attempt to fit

All the molds

They wanted me to be

All the perceptions they wanted me to see

Distorted my mind into a fantasy

Smiling right at me

So all I have left is a story

 

Oh, blindfolded hypocrisy

Just can’t let me be

Oh, blindfolded hypocrisy

Trying to capture me

But everytime I crawl away

With a piece of your reality

 

Trauma filed day

Avoiding the triggers that may

Haunt my dreams it seems

To the end of May

Sweating through my clothes

Hurting all my bones

Trying to walk before I can crawl

So sick of it all

Trauma filled day

Yelling at my feet

They never were complete

Like two mutant creeps

Unable to fall asleep

Hands on a controller

My virtual consoler

The outside world feels like a boulder

Waiting to crush me

And some days all I can see

Is them laughing over me

But when I stand

I won’t let this be

I won’t let this be.

 

To Help Survivors ❤

How long will you let them control you? How many years did you sacrifice worrying about the people who did not worry about you? How many nights did you cry silently because you did not want people to yell at your tears? How many years went by where you couldn’t focus on yourself because you spent nights waiting for their arrival in fear?

It is time to wipe those tears and embrace what you were always afraid of: giving up on the people who gave up on you. And it isn’t going to be easy reprogramming your mind back to where it was before it all happened. And perhaps, it will never be the same. But know, you survived like a warrior. You came out of a battle some people do not survive and some people will never comprehend. And it isn’t your duty to explain yourself, your reasons for staying, your reasons for going back, and your reasons for loving the people who could never love you back. Forgive yourself. For you had tried to face another person’s demons while facing your own. While trying to survive an already cruelly set up world. And in all the darkness, you brought a light. One so bright, it attracted the lost souls out of the darkness. It was not your fault. And trust me, for years you thought it was, rummaging through self help books, videos, and picking yourself apart to pieces. A task few people attempt to do for a lifetime. In the end, you realized you were not perfect but you were nothing like those who hurt you.

So shine my beautiful survivors. Shine so bright that the world can see you are every color of the rainbow. Shine from the moment your eyes open to the moment they close at night. Even if it hurts to try because you are so exhausted by now. You owe it to yourself more than anyone in this world to realize who you are: a survivor and not a victim.

Now She’s Gone

         Poof! Now she’s gone! Like the song by Felt no one ever knows she references. At least she can admit an ex introduced her to the band, rather than act as if she found it herself. Desiring to look cool to possible dating prospects. Ha ha. Go right ahead, add that one to your playlist as well. Like the other songs she tried to listen to, that you didn’t let her, and post to your facecrap so the next woman can think you can terrific taste in music. More like her taste in music. Rainbow kitten surprise, Kasey Musgraves, Theo Katzman, Chet Faker. The list could go on. I am sure she will eventually see a mutual friend of yours on facecrap post pictures at one of these artists concerts with you. Just know she won’t be jealous. It doesn’t work. She will always find music, venues, and people to hang out with. Go see the bands that are no longer at their prime like the Counting Crows, or ones you had already seen a decade ago but cannot remember for reasons I will not say. You don’t even have the motivation to find your own taste in music. That speaks volumes.

       So go ahead you can try to replace the now ex Fiancée with one of the many women you kept chatting on the side, while acting like you were ready to settle down. Any woman would have seen it as a red flag. And let me make this clear, go ahead with your smear campaign; but she is not a pedophile accuser. The replacement though is nineteen years old and you are in your late thirties. People will judge but you two are perfect for each other. She lies about having a boyfriend, has no self respect, attention seeks and is immature. By the way, so cool to act as if you were always platonic friends, when the reality was far from it. So cool to invite ex dating prospects to events. And “just chatting” with them late hours of the evening while knowing you would be upset if your now ex Fiancée started doing the same.

        Oh, dare I mention the infamous line? “Oh, I would beat a guy if he pet you.” Meanwhile, letting your now ex Fiancée watch your double standards, deep rooted in misogynistic, alpha male stereotypes. You think she was dumb, huh? Not dumb, but maybe dumb for loving you so much she put up with things no normal woman would have. The truth is: she loved you since she was nineteen years old and first laid eyes on you. She saw potential. But as ten years past, you decided to just give up on yourself. Decided to not contribute to society or do anything to better yourself. Instead, it seems you gave up while expecting some kind of miracle to save you from yourself?

         Was she supposed to be that miracle? After you told her she expected people to take care of her, while she went through extensive surgeries? Did you think it did not hurt when you assumed she was a “golddigger.” She worked full time during college, after college, and up until she had to do surgery. Basically since she was sixteen years old. God forbid unseen health circumstances arose that she had to address. So kind of you to judge rather than listen. So kind of you to literally regurgitate her previous abusive exes insults and continue to imbed it into her head? Didn’t think of the fact, you might be reopening wounds rather than leaving the scars she healed alone. And let’s not even get into the fact your own resume hasn’t looked great in ten years, but you were perfectly abled bodied. Throw your stones while living in a glass house, right?

        And one must ask: how many other women were supposed to be a life changing miracle for you? How many ended up hurt? Why do you think it is fair to expect so much emotional support while treating women as disposable once the honeymoon phase wears off? You think telling everyone your exes did to you what you really did to them  isn’t going to be figured out? You think you have people fooled but really the joke is on you. And it is not a funny joke to actually live the way you do. It is sad.

       All us past women once had faith you would tell the truth when asked, but after repeated lie after lie; the trust was gone. You expect to build a solid foundation off of no truth. She had to see with her own eyes your lies to wake up. And when she saw undeniable evidemce: you lied again. Gaslit her like the nineteen forties movie. What was next? A flickering of the lights, then telling her she was seeing things? No one deserves to live that way. No one. Not so you can maintain your façade. She wanted to live in truth, not lies.

      But what really sticks out and probably always will is the way you purposed. The casual handing over of the ring in the car, then the infamous line: “nw you can rub it in my best female friend’s face.” She wishes she could replace it with anything else. As a child, she envisioned a man at least getting on one knee and muttering four words. Such an expectation, right? She knew she was right in feeling like a pawn in a game riddled with jealously inducing antics, based upon your own insecurities. It was as if she wasn’t even a human to you. It was as if you failed to see how embarrassing it would be to explain to other people how you purposed. But looking back, she now sees it as a blessing. She now sees she was lucky to have not married someone who couldn’t even get on one knee like a gentlemen and say four words. Someday, when she finally finds a man who kisses her forehead at night, never wants to see her shed a tear, and actually wants a real commitment, you will probably think: I wish I never let her go. But she won’t try to remember you by then. She will create memories she deserves to have with someone who deserves her.

Miss Magic Part IV

Olivia grabs her shoes, all excited. Composed of all the energy of a titan until she runs into the somewhat nosy neighbor. She knows this will become a draining experience within two minutes but she feels guilty if she doesn’t endure it. The woman has no human interaction for day and is definitely a people person.

“What are you up to today? You look nice.” She says as if trying to be
invited.

“Oh. Just a Birthday party for a friend.” Olivia says feeling guilty
about lying.

“That should be nice. I hope you have a good time.”

“Thanks. Hope you have a nice day.” Olivia says quickly and nervously as
she is trying to calmly move away from the conversation.

She never understood what her neighbor does all day besides occasionally blast Christian rock music. No television is ever on, and no noise is really made. It is as if she doesn’t move all day. The thought concerned her really. Perhaps it is depression? She thought. She felt badly for lying to her and not inviting her but Olivia had waited so long for a real friend and didn’t want her to be scared off. She knows how skiddish she can be herself, and since Jackie seemed similar, she knew it could be risky. She was tired of taking a risk every time in her life for other people. But being selfish felt bad at first.

They met at Jackie’s favorite coffee shop. She drives miles to get there just for a Colombian coffee. Olivia finds this internally insane. She attempts to explain Jackie can buy Colombian coffee at the grocery tore, but Jackie swears it is nothing like the one she is currently drinking. She moves on from trying to save her money, suspecting Jackie might be not concerned with money at the moment. Realistically Olivia knows she doesn’t know her background yet, for all she knows Jackie could be a trust fund kid or one step away from living in the gutter with her Colombian coffee. Either way, Olivia is a bit concerned she might blow through her money buying dumb things, end up like the rest of us poverty stricken fools. Olivia had seen even the wealthiest of people fall because of bad behaviors. Anything is possible.

“So what’s the plan today?” Jackie asks.

“I don’t ever make plans anymore. Avoids the disappointments.”

“True. But how could anything we do together end up in disappointment? Haha!                We seem to entertain ourselves pretty well alone. Let alone around people
who are one in the same.” Jackie says with great enthusiasm.

“You’re right.” Olivia admits.

“Let’s go drive around until we find something! I know it sounds weird but I
have GPS so it’ll work out.”

Jackie had this reassuring nature Olivia needed at the moment. She needed someone who wasn’t afraid of life.  Wasn’t afraid to get in the car and get lost once in awhile with the right person. She felt sort of honored to be in her presence. As if she was a kinda of magical blissful fairy, showering her with fairy dust, trying to make her have fun. Deep down Olivia was stressed about money though. Based upon Jackie’s car she started thinking Jackie did not have the same problems as she did. Perhaps, she couldn’t relate to her struggles, but for some odd reason they clicked on the same wavelength regardless. They drove around until Olivia found a water park & adventure center. Of course, the billboard stood out and even though it was quite a drive, Jackie didn’t seem to care about the gas money involved. When Olivia tried to pull out cash at the gas station, she refused it.

“I just want a real friend Olivia. If you do me wrong in the end, it will
suck for you, not me! Ha ha!” Jackie said in a jokingly but serious
matter.

“Oh I know! I am not used to this treatment, my dear! I feel guilty even
accepting it. Please take something from me.”

“No. I don’t need it right now in my life. If I do in the future, I’ll
know you will have my back, my dear.” She said with the sweetest
demeanor.

“Thank you. It has been so long since I went anywhere like this place. In
fact, I don’t think I have ever been to a place quite like this in my
whole life.” Olivia said excitingly.

“I can tell. You are hiding your giddiness.”

While Olivia used the restroom for a moment, Jackie went to the ticket booth and bought both tickets to everything in the park. Even with the speedy “cut in line” access. Olivia was quite moved by this gesture, tears swelled up in her eyes, almost pouring down her cheeks but she held them back, back into her eyes out of embarrassment.

“Don’t you worry, my friend. Don’t feel bad. Let’s go have fun now. Let’s
enjoy everything we can right now.” Jackie said while she rubbed her
shoulder as if she was a child.

“Thank you Jackie. You don’t know what it means to me.”

“Oh I know, my dear. I’ve waited for a friend like you for too long.”

“Me too.”

They spend their day in inner-tubes like children. Flying down water slides at high speeds. Fitting in with children but not caring about the judgments of others. Having so much fun, nothing else mattered to them. Then onto the ziplines. They bought hats like Indiana Jones had laughing at they flew done the lines side by side, as they flew off. Not caring about materialistic loss. Just happy in the moment with each other. It was the first time in a long time, they were both genuinely happy around another human being. They both knew these moments would never be forgotten and could not wait to go on another adventure.

Glad I Can Still Hear Her Voice…

She didn’t have much, but she left me with a recording of her singing which has meant the world to me. More than anything materialistic. I wouldn’t trade it for anything in the world.

And there isn’t a day that goes by honestly where I don’t think of her still. I won’t wash her clothes because they still smell like cigarettes and her perfume. Whenever I smell a smoke, it reminds me of her. Her sitting there, alone most of time, being strong willed and focused on taking care of everyone around her. Perhaps, more than taking care of herself honestly.

My grandmother looked after several siblings and didn’t have much of a childhood. Like a lot of kids out there during that time period, she was faced with responsibilities well beyond her capacity to fulfill them at the time. She lost siblings to diseases, did laundry by hand, and still managed to take care of everyone around her. They worked in the fields, but still went hungry. There was no running water. Buckets had to be brought from a well. She carried them like a warrior I’m sure.

She was a fragile person. The kind that rarely exists now in this world. The kind of person you would look at and just know she had the will of a sorceress and the heart of an angel. She was the kind of person who would give you her last dollar even if it meant she would starve herself. At times, she was misunderstood but I must admit she had an intuition made of gold. She stood for what she believed in. Honestly, it was difficult to find any hypocritical behaviors from her. I remember as a child she told my mother to take the clothes off the clothesline when we never had a problem in years. My mom didn’t and the next day, they were all stolen. She was the kind of person who sensed when something was off, and honestly was ninety percent correct with her instincts.

Losing her was a slow process. As if, she was holding onto this earth with all of her will power. I remember staring at her body, barely recognizable, seeing her artery pulsing in her stomach, knowing it could rupture at any time, at any moment. I remember secretly praying to a higher power to not let her go that way.  For weeks, she fought. The doctors rarely had seen anything like it. Her small, weak, 4’11” body could not overpower her mind. She needed love, that’s why she hung on. She had a life full of taking care of everyone, playing the caretaker role without anyone realizing how strong she was until she was gone. And I am not saying by any means she was unappreciated. She was just so good at taking care of everything, it was almost as if no one ever thought to thank her. It was almost as if it was just her “role” in life. But it wasn’t just a “role.” It was really the way she showed her love and kindness.

I knew at that moment what she needed. While everyone was busy in the kitchen, I felt this strange calmness come over me. As if I knew it was time to let her go and I had to be strong for her and say the right things. I held her hand, told her I know Papa loves her, & I know everyone loves her for what sacrifices she made. I told her even though they may not say it enough, that it was known she had a heart like no other person out there. She squeezed my hand as a tear came down her face, and as she took her last breath, I saw her smile. I saw her finally let all the pain and suffering go. The moment will be ingrained in my mind forever, just like her beautiful smile.  I will always love you Nana.

The Sullen

IMG_20161209_123409.jpg

It just crept up on her. Like a sullen boy looking for a sullen girl. There were no words to describe it. Words were no longer easy to craft. And that, my friend, was one of the signs, she drove past, with her foot upon the accelerator.

But no, she wasn’t really wonder woman. She couldn’t just drive through all the obstacles she faced with acceleration. And that, my friend, was another sign, she again drove past. She was a little girl who thought the world was about dreams, fantasies, creativity, imagination, and boy was she wrong. She thought the world would just shed rainbows upon everyone who was deserving. But no, that’s not always the case.

Life can be difficult. Unnecessarily so. She never could see reality as clear as the others. Things can happen at any point in time that can change your perception of yourself. Nothing could have prepared her for this. No curriculum, no adopted ideology, nothing could prepare her for the obstacle she faced. And no person would want to face this. Especially unknowingly.

Perhaps, that was always the issue. She was a dreamer. And then when the dream ended, reality set in and so did the clouds. The rain seemed longer than it actually was. The days seemed longer, and the nights we riddled full of a lack of sleep that no sleep aid could fix. Her eyes would shut, but the noise never did. She thought it was normal.

Did she build this fallacy of a dream and ultimately create this depression? Or did something else? The question always plagues her but there will never be a definite answer. Realistically, the answer is both. In her eyes there are so many factors in situations, she doesn’t even want to think about the past anymore. And when she does, the most sullen of beasts grips onto her as if he will never let go, for there is too much to decipher and reflect upon.

She knows if she digs deeper, she will only discover more people just like her. And the thought, brings a cringe to her face. Just a number she thinks. Everyone of us is just a number now to them. How can you keep your sanity as a number?

How can you not be just a number, when they made you a number?

She knows the fact she even asks these questions brings her hope of escaping an ideology which has done nothing for her but help further her depressing state. A kind of institutional virus she paid to be injected with. Her own ideologies questioned, not embraced in discussion. Her papers written all over with biased red ink. If she looks over them now, it will make her even more infuriated than ever.

So much difficulty she faced, just trying to be herself in a world where acceptance is so hard to come by.

She looks outside though. The sun is still there, shining. She remembers it has always been there and always will be there probably until the day she dies, no matter what happens. She thinks, they sure as heck cannot take away the sun, so I should be okay. Some things cannot be controlled by the human hand.

The Dimensions/Part 2

She wakes up to him tugging upon her sleeve.

“Mommy! Mommy! I have to go to school soon. Where’s my lunch?”

“I…I…” She panics…”I think I it’s in the fridge, hold on.”

Sure enough it is. She doesn’t remember ever packing it though. She doesn’t even know his name yet. She thinks, what’s my name?

So many thoughts racing, their almost uncontrollable. He’s staring at her, as if he knows something is different about her. Children always know when things are off. It is as if intuition is at its peak at those ages.

He runs out the door, barely making the bus.

Now, time for some investigation. She runs upstairs, trying to find anything with a name on it. She has to know who she is, who they are, where she is, in order to answer questions later. Nothing makes sense and she is overwhelmed with only an afternoon to figure this out it seems.

She finds something. A filing cabinet of some fancy kind. After some ravaging she was able to find birth certificates. Apparently her name is Margaret, her son is Alvin, and her husband is Edward.

Really, Alvin? She thinks. Poor kid.

She is 32 years old, Edward is 34, and Alvin is 9. None of this makes sense to her. She feels she was older, but she can’t remember how old. Everything seems to be getting more difficult to remember from her previous life. Tears roll down her face. Jack, her real son, is no longer visible in her mind. She pretends to hug the floor as if it’s him but this only results in a prolonged anxiety spell. She knows this will solve nothing. She must figure out how to get back home and not forget everyone.

She reads on, finding out more and more about the family. Looking at photographs, drawings, mailings, anything she can use to gain information. It becomes less and less painful as she continues.

The door slams.

“Hunny!” Edward says.

“Yes, dear, I am in here.” Says Margaret.

“Did you make supper?”

She panics. “I’m so sorry. I failed to get anything done today.”

“Are you okay?” Edward asks.

“Yes, I’m fine. Just maybe a little bit of a flu coming on.”

“Okay, well, I guess me and the boy will go out to dinner. I’ll bring you something back my love. Please get some rest and be yourself again. I sure do miss your cooking.”

“I will. Thank you dear.”She says.

Finally, she’s alone again. Now, time to learn some recipes. The cookbook is extensive. Covered in flour and definitely used every day. She cannot imagine a woman cooking every single day but she gives it a chance. She picks something easy for tomorrow evening and hopes for the best.

Edward awakens her. “You fell asleep with the recipe book. How adorable.”

“Well, I wanted to make sure I was prepared for tomorrow.”

She sits with him, eats her dinner quietly, letting him talk about his day at work, who he had seen in town, and what new shoes he desires. She gathers more information and finds herself becoming intrigued the more he speaks. She starts to think hey this may not be that bad after all. His handsome, chiseled face radiates authenticity. Then she starts thinking of her own family again. Guilt rolls in. He kisses her. She feels his lips tug softly on hers then pull away even more gently. It was like nothing she felt before. So innocent. Her heart becomes weak as she looks in his eyes and she starts to feel as if she belongs here.

He holds her all night. Carefully caressing her body, memorizing every inch of her skin, so he can remember it forever. She does the same, barely sleeping all night.