Your words whispered to me and remain like echos of a shout. Overwhelmed. It is a constant frightful battle that I fear I cannot win. I break things down into small bite size pieces so I don’t choke.
I want to say happy Veterans Day to you. I sat with my grandmother today and remembered her stories of being WAC. I feel women of an age are often forgotten because they were not part of the standardized military. They were just as important and entirely as integral as the men.
I know you don’t speak of it and it is not something you wish to rehash. But I thank you for doing what you didn’t have to and what many don’t chose to.
In respect and with admiration,
I often wonder if I am causing more harm than good. I constantly look around and see unfinished movements, prayers, and halted steps. I feel incomplete more often than fulfilled and more lost than on path.
There are so many things I want to do but stepping into them is like walking onto the dark road way marked under construction. When I take that first step I often feel my focus splinter like glass when pressure is put upon it. It doesn’t always break through but spider webs in a multitude of fractals.
I feel overwhelmed! By the smallest commitments that I take on. It is ridiculous how the feeling builds and then slides over me. I have started taking small steps for things that ...
I am laying in my bed, Ghost is asleep beside me. The wind is raging outside and all I can do is listen and marvel at its strength. It started about two hours ago and battered my car as I drove along the river to home. The trees danced in the winds embrace and at dipped deeply at times.
I have always liked storms, the clashing rain, lightning, and thunder. Dark clouds in the sky make me want to stay at home and make soup and bread. But it took me awhile to learn to love wind.
Something about wind has always made me uncomfortable. It is loud, and beats at you and your home, constantly pummeling to get in. I have seen roofs ripped off and massive trees uprooted. Not to mention the dange...
Kindness and empathy are often forgotten and purposely sat aside.
Thank you for valuing both.
She is 2 years old and no one wanted her. Her eyes are green with rings of blue around her irises and she is a tabby of beautiful stripes and deep color. She is scared of other cats so no one wanted her. I looked at her and fell in love. Each day she feels safer. Her name is Ghost.
This is an adoption announcement.
I couldn’t leave her there once I met her. I saw the look of wanting in her eyes. She just wanted her own people. Foo, I am her people.
Regards from the people who never thought they would be a cats people,
There is so much that we cannot change. We see these things and they can cut us. As long as you do what is in your means you have no reason to bleed. It is terrifying to know that there are those who use the acceptance of people like us to justify their perversions.
There is so much going on! I watched a 15 year old girl tear into wealthy privileged Americans today. Her words burned. Because she was right. She erred in only one thought. She didn’t want to believe that there were any that evil who would chose money over the earth. Over the threat of mass extinction.
All you have to do is look around and see how people are treating others to know that those she was addressing are that ...
Why do you think there is so much demand for pain? Why are people paying to watch others torture and abuse animals and children or adults rendered helpless?
I keep seeing requests for information about these people. They normally show their faces taken from a clip of video. My stomach turns as I force myself to view them. I have to be sure that they’re not someone I know.
I understand wanting pain. I understand a consensual relationship that involves levels of pain. But I do not understand abuse.
From the last article it said not to share the post requesting for information if it contained video clips instead of stills. That money is made off of the videos. And the more it is sh...
A life of lies is no life at all. It is a false existence that leaves us hollow and fragile. By taking steps to respect the cultures of those that are stolen we make small amends. Sometimes that is all we can do.
I have been mixed about things like appropriation because the idea is unsettling to me. I enjoy learning of other cultures and traditions. I love artwork and music from places that I have never been. But I have I learned not to place myself as a representative of those cultures. I do not act like their work is mine. And I only buy from authentic and reputable dealers. Small steps can have large impacts.
If our government continues to live for only profit we will always be sha...
I have been standing outside at night, barefoot, and without a coat. Cold air raps me snuggly in its chill. I dig my toes as deep into the soil as they can go. I revel in the moist earth and frosted breath that I breathe. I love the almost painful bite of the night time.
Tonight I stood outside and looked on the moon. I was out there so long my feet went numb and my nose stung. When I started to thaw inside it ran. My lips as so cold I couldn’t form the words in my head.
I have been pondering stolen lands, stolen life’s, and stolen futures. I think the night is a good time and the outside is a good place to contemplate these things. They are uncomfortable to think on. The night all...
I too do not deserve your friendship. It has been wonderful to have a friend I can speak freely to without judgment. I used to wonder what you looked like, sounded like, and even smelt like. Now your voice is that of the trees around me as they whisper your words in my mind. You scent drifts elusively around me but never really settles; and your face is one I cherish because I have never seen it.
I have something very important to tell you... I killed a spider a today! While I was trying to kill the 8 legged invader I had a boy about 9 years old holding his shoe in one hand (I had the other), dancing around behind in some steam spastic ritual of the chicken dance; with sound effect...
I do not deserve you. Your friendship sustains me in times of unknown territory. I hold my breath as I read your words and bury them within me to read in my mind again and again.
I can never repay the gift you have given me. You read my life without condemnation and cruelty. You have never found a word amongst my bloody ink and chosen to throw it back at me.
I know things are dark now, strike that; things are blinding bright and painful to look upon. There has been so much pain seeping from one corner to the next. Just hold the reminder that no matter how bad it gets; someone will always step up. Someone will always walk beside the broken and try to prevent the from shattering further...
I feel dirty, ashamed, and greatly saddened. There is a large helping of disgust mixed in with these other feelings. Disgust at the inaction and the rhetoric that has once again begun to make the rounds.
Let’s not make stronger and safer gun laws; instead lets blame mental illness! But wait we are not going to do anything about that either!
1. Mental illness is the cause. Irrational fear and hatred that has saturated the hearts of these unbalanced men. The cause: a man who glories in his power but dares not take responsibility for his actions and words.
2. Gun laws need to be federally mandated and consistent across the country.
3. NRA once a good organization has strayed so far fr...
I’m tired. I do not know what to do about the things happening around me. I worry, I know, I should be doing something. But I am scared. There are days when it is almost too much to take care of myself.
The hate that is spreading is insidious and mercurial. I cannot see its intent plainly but I know that harm is meant. It seems to be spreading like a pandemic. Why is it now taking such hold?
I heard said that the only thing good that has come from this is that people who did not normally stand up and fight, have. And with clear razor sharp intent. That the new pain was causing people to say no to old pain.
I want to be out there fight with them! I want to stand against this great...
This is something I said earlier today. I feel this strongly. I am tried of the arguments about this. The laws being past are in direct violation of constitutional law. But also this:
Pregnancy is an amazing and frightening thing, you can thrive, you can be in full immense joy about carrying your progeny. You can also be vilely ill, unprepared, terrified, lost, suicidal, ambivalent, and full of dangerous feelings and thoughts. Technically a fetus is a parasite. This is not a symbiotic relationship. A lot of damage can be done to the mother.
Until you sit alone in a room and have to debate with yourself about how well you can care for the child or children that you would be bring...
I have to speak to you about something that may hurt you. I don’t want to hurt you or make you feel bad. But it has to be said. We are not great. We have the potential to be amazing. But first we have to stand up and be accountable for our actions.
And those actions that happened in the past that have never truly been acknowledged as heinous acts and have never been apologized for. These are small but important things. I am sure you know what I am talking about. The indigenous people of this land span from South America through Canada and into Alaska. Not to mention the Hawaiian islands.
Your children when they arrived acted unethically. They used their religion as a weapon and ...
I have nothing. I cannot speak about what you go through. Even though my family has a difficult time with who I am they still, in their weirdly loving and resisting fashion, support me. My dark times come from the attacks. Because I am visibly different than the standard issue human others feel it is ok to do harm.
In the past before coming to terms with who I am I had moments of very deep self loathing as hatred. I have harmed myself in theses times. I at one point mutilated myself. My body was not the one I my heart and mind belong too. I had listened to my parents pastor talk about how god had given me such a gift. I hated the vessel even more.
I spent time in the hospital recoveri...
I felt the darkness crawling into me. It slipped into me smoothly as if it belongs in me. I have begun to wonder if does belong. It has been a part of me for so very long. I still function. But I feel paralyzed as it tries to take root.
Sounds are distorted, lights so bright that they’re dim, and constant numbness. I try to cut it out and it won’t leave. There are whispers from behind the doors as this darkness settles in. It scares me and I feel as though I am to tired to keep fighting.
My mother doesn’t understand. She tells me that there is no medical history of “this type of thing”. Kilroy, I don’t need a history. I need help.
I have my art. I have my kitchen. I have so much ...
I have never fought with the memory of the departed. That would mean I would have to be taken into consideration. Any spectators that may have the power to cast their shadows upon my home have chosen not to.
I have completed with the ideal that I have never met. I will admit; to my mother’s shame and horror, I have never tried to meet. I felt from an early age that there was no need to impress those around me. That any action to do so would be a lie. I disdain lies.
It has always been hard to present myself in manner that
others find palatable. Because of this there has never really been an expectation on the part of others that I might be more. After all when one is as they p...
How does one compete with memory of potential cut short? Her specter hovers over me and from my view she try’s to protect me. But in the heart of another she is the unfulfilled dream of the first born. The one who never grew up. The one they loved first - the one they will hold the longest.
I do not envy her. I do not want her place in the heart of the mother. I have witnessed the pain of her loss every year. Her birthday and the date of her death, almost 6 years apart, are less than a month apart. Our mother disappears while with us.
Kilroy, I guess it’s not competing but understanding. To me she is the shade of shadows. To my mother she is the eclipse of the sun.
I do not know if you have opened my last message. If you have not, then do not. I ask that you keep it in its envelope and when you find the need to; put it back in to your pocket.
I have come to the realization over the course of my years that we need to hold onto the things that bring us comfort. That help us stay strong. Stay sane. Feel safe.
I have read your last letter so many times the folds in the paper are beginning to separate. I feel strongly that the next time he imposes his brand of affection that you make known your dislike of his touch. Loudly. Physically. In front of witnesses so there is no mistaking your meaning.
I myself dislike touching people. I reserve the right ...
I sit here at my desk. Pen in hand writing to you. I have a confession. I received your letter but have left it unopened. It is in front of me laying propped against my desk lamp. Your hand writing flowing over the outside. The ink slightly smudged from, what I presume, was a rain.
I wanted to tear open your missive the minute I received it. And that is why it sits unopened. I put it in my pocket and I carried it with me for the day. I will read it. But I am waiting. The anticipation of your words is almost as great as reading them.
I also have another reason for waiting. I received your missive the day He came to visit. He acted as if nothing had happened and he had a rite to be ...
My dear Foo,
Friend. I received your letter with gratitude. That you reciprocate my feelings of connection make me so very happy. I know that with this change we have opened our lives to discovery. After all the only secret kept is the one held by one person.
I do not regret sharing with you. Please do not feel that I would harm you by telling others of you and your words.
For me today was not easy.
I stood with my toes touching air at the edge. The fall was tempting. I wanted to open my arms and close my eyes. I wanted to fly.
But I remembered what you said in one of the very first letters. You said that I was not meant to fly leaving earth for the sky. That for me to truly fly I wou...
I have read your words over and over so many times. They sang off the page and etched themselves into my mind. I catch myself working or doing some other task and I can hear your words drift through me.
I too feel the same. It seams strange that I can feel so free with you. Especially when I don’t know if we have ever been in the same room at the same time. As you said our breath has never mingled. Our hands have never brushed against each other. Our lives are so far apart.
This physical distance does not stop us from reaching out to each other. Does not stop us from sharing what others don’t understand.
I can look at myself now, Kilroy. I don’t just see the scars. I believe you ...
I know that we have become casual in our corespondents. Our notes have lost the formality of unfamiliar lives and have turned to these rambling sentences of friendship and intimacy. I understand that my stating this outright may make you uncomfortable and possibly exposed. Just know that I too have much to lose by this transition.
We have ventured from talks of weather, our days, hikes, and grocery shopping to the more interesting aspects of hearts. You know my beliefs. My desires. My truth. I hope that we are equal in this. I feel deeply that we are.
I don’t know your face, I have never shaken your hand, never felt your breath mingling with mine. But I feel that we are ever tied ...
I’m sorry I have been gone for so long. I was working through a very unhappy time. I had no words to share when my world slowed in its rotation. I have a common friend one I wish I did not have. But it is not something I can change like I do my socks. I will admit that this was a fairly long visit. It was darker and deeper than it has been before. I had to keep moving forward for myself and be present for my heathens. But it was suffocating. I felt like I was caught in a pool of molasses. My home reflects the distress this visitor causes. Am, I take medication, but sometimes that isn’t enough. I wish those who don’t have to deal with this part of themselves could just understand. I...
Today is that day. The day when our family and international cousins stopped and stood in disbelief and horror. A day that began a cycle of fear and hate. It is also a day when you children came together and fought for the lives of our family. Our family we didn't know.
I remember watching the planes, the smoke, and the devastating sight of people falling from the towers. I remember the bravery and selflessness shown by first responders and strangers that started a trek cross country to help.
I've read the report, watched the documentaries, and felt that day to the bottoms of soul. There is evil out there Am. But it did not win. Even with the devastation it brought our family sto...
This is an intervention. I am not sure how to say this nicely, with grace, or for that matter respect. A large majority of your children have fucked up. They are so focused on what is owed to them that they have ceased giving even the barest amount of respect to those who have earned it.
First issue Am, DACA. This is crazy! Why, why, i ask, would we, as a people, a family, turn our backs on those children who forced into our system? These children who strive and reach everyday; paying out more in blood and tears than anyone could comprehend?
Second; Am is also related to the first issue. Harvey blew through Texas. Killing some, many losing so very much, and making heros of those...
I am supposed to be asleep right now but find that it eludes me. I am packing. Again. I hate packing, moving, and readjusting to new space. It makes me panicky and stressesd.
I know that part of the problem stems from moving 2 to 3 times a year up until I was 7. I hated it. It didn't matter if i would be in the same school or if I would still see my same friends. My world would be ripped apart in sutch a way as to never be the same. Never feel comfortable or safe. I new that just as i would start to settle the boxes would come out.
I believe that is why I have strong hermit like tendancies. I also have something thay makes living difficult. Even if I never moved again my world w...
I am lost. I have been lost before but not like this. Not in a time like this. Most definitely not with a President like this.
I used to be able to proudly say that I am an American. That I am a part of you Am. But this man who is supposed to lead us is not someone I want to be related to. How do I explain to others that he is a school yard bully? Yes, he has power, he always has, but now it is not based souly on his money and who he can intimidate into capitulating. Now he twists our laws and abuses the house he resides in.
Am, what he is doing is taking us backward to much darker times. I can only hope we don't repeat the mistake that is him. I pray that no more lives are lo...
This weekend i was brought to my knees by the horrific images on the news. I felt fear deep in my stomach and my heart hurt for those being touched by such darkly vile and insidious beliefs.
What caused even deeper concern is the ambivalent way the President responded. He rode the middle line. He gave half assed and clearly biased public side talk about condeming the violence on "both" sides. Corrct me if i am wrong; but to my recolection the injuries and death occurred only on one of those sides.
I cannot comprehend their hate. What they feel is disposable, no, in need of exterminating i love. My children of mixed heritage, my friends from the amazing spectrum of the LGBTQ fam...