Please. Tell me what it’s like to be somebody’s favorite person, I need to know so I can stop holding my breath.

I’m not religious, but You I worship like taking sacrament on bloody knees.

Privilege of Age

I was a little bit of a tomboy growing up. But I had to be, I have four brothers. They were also very protective of me then, despite my being a strong female. I shared a room with my younger brother; and he and I are still very close. I can’t say I’ve always liked him, and he knows he’s lucky to be alive. That said,  I know I am lucky to be alive too. 

Still. He’s my compadre when I want to go kayaking or walk at a park or on a hike. I’ve also been to 92% of all concerts I attended, with him. In fact I miss kayaking with him, it’s been over a month, but I pinched a nerve two weeks ago, so I need to heal. It hurts. Last time I over exerted myself I pinched two nerves and gave myself another hernia, that was while kickboxing. I also miss kickboxing. 

Ahh yes the privilege of age. Honestly, there’s a lot that sucks about getting older, but there’s also all the things you got to experience and all the new things you get to do and experience. For example, I may not be able to kickbox anymore, but now I have an incredible grand-baby. It really is the Best trade off EVER!! 

Our mindsets should be ever evolving. I know it doesn’t seem like I have a propensity for optimism, but I do. I tend to overdo the silver linings actually, but I don’t want to grow bitter. Just because life occasionally fucks me up doesn’t mean I should stop finding ways to enjoy what time I have. I always somehow manage to steer myself back to me. I am also still trying to raise my son to be a man without the help of a man. So. He needs me. All my kids still need me from time to time. I need me, and also because I want some fucking wins.

Digital world

Life got a little easier for you to stand up for yourself, you felt a little less anxious about wanting to be heard and seen. It was easier to pacify time and ignore the parts of your life that were falling apart. It was meant to bring likeminded people together and open communication. It succeeded in many ways and failed all of us in other ways. 

We stopped making time for people and started making excuses for endless hours wasted in a digital world that was surreal.

It backfired and the world has gone mad! We think we are all different, but we all fall in line with the flow of some crowd. Let’s all pretend like the world around us exists on another realm. You aren’t any less smug. It’s so easy to keep yourself distracted with socialmedia bullshit. Whatever it was, however, it was, it became disassociation, detachment, and ultimately a comfort zone. 

I mean, after all we could pretend to be who and what we really wanted to be, safely all behind a keyboard. But. Is that who you really are or is it just another mask? Is it just another broken piece of glass, a fragment, a glimpse of who you could be? At some point you will come to terms with the reality of who you sold out to be, why you traded your soul for it and scamper to reconcile who you truly are. There’s still a reflection of you on that phone, monitor or ipad.

Maybe you will find you are enough. And find strength. You can choose to only wear the mask at a masquerade or on halloween. The idea of who you want to be can be reality, but only you can breathe life into it. Don’t let other people’s perception of you or how they think you should be, change you. 

They’re not you, they’ll never be you, and That is your gift. 

You can free yourself from this electronic addiction and fight with every breath that you have to be all of these versions you masterfully created of yourself. Because maybe, just maybe, a lot of all of those versions - are you.

The crowd isn’t a good fit for you though. It’s time to break free and stand on your own. You’ll probably lose people. But you won’t lose yourself. It won’t be easy to unravel habits that have become second nature.

But it’s definitely time to Unfuck yourself. It’s time to scream. It’s time to get your knuckles bloody. Mighty is your sword, wield your power. 

waltz and salsa

I was once so kind, and beautiful. That was long before being dragged to hell with flowers in my hair, a sweet innocent smile and a mind tasting of honey.

In hell, I was beholden to no god. And as the monster within refused to seethe quietly, hell cast me out. I no longer temper my rage, I don’t deny myself the thirst for blood. 

I am the monster under my bed. I like to waltz and salsa with my demons. But I am also the angel, the savior, the goddess and the witch. 

Why do I cling so much to that monster within, the one with an incessant need for carnage and war? Why can’t I return to being an angel? I have fallen so far.

Storms

I want out of the matrix. I want freedom from thought, and here I am circling the drain of emotional bloodletting. 

Do you ever look back and wonder if anyone has ever loved you the way you needed to be loved? And not just in moments here and there. But you actually feel them, even when they aren’t next to you. And, no. Not the kind of love only your family can give. I’m talking about a lover, a best friend, someone truly good for your psyche and soul…

Or are we always searching for and longing for a love that will help us grow through shit together and laugh more with a companion, than you do now. Sometimes I get real hung up on the idea of an unconditional love that is consistent. But what if we’re only fated to have a few amazing moments and to live out the rest of our lives pining for more than the ones we are hand fed, thereby creating our own suffering? 

I have been fairly content on my own. I like to think of myself as Trinity, I’m always fighting, and dodging bullets, looking for a way out of the matrix. It’d be a lot cooler if my Neo was here to do it with me, though. Or whatever -  I nerd out. 

There’s a tropical storm going on and I love this fucking rain. Mother Nature is beautifully violent. We’re still in a tornado watch and there’s flash flooding. My mom’s all bajiggity and hiding in the closet she said, when I checked in on her and Dad. I reminded her that they took us to Fort Myers Beach and Sanibel Island during two different tropical storms when we were kids. I told her to stop being dramatic, because they let my brothers and I bodysurf and boogey board in riptide and 7’ waves. Ah yes my perfect parents allowing 4 (occasionally all 5)of us outside in the rough water body surfing and going out to the sandbar to find silver dollars. (sand dollars). We were shark bait. My brother even got pulled under twice, and once he skinned his face on the ocean floor. Dad told him to shake it off, and go have some fucking fun. This is the kind of weather you go out in. Fuck what the transplants and non-natives say. This is beautiful Florida summer weather. Anyway I asked my mom if she also went and hid in the closet while we were out swimming and surfing during the storms. I mean. C’mon! 

My parents were happily leaving us to fend for ourselves in the elements unsupervised while they had some adult time. 

I’d like to think that I will never be afraid of the storms. I feel more like myself standing in the middle of the storm, than I ever will under the blinding purity of sunshine. 

It’s strange how I trust the storms mother nature brings. She’s the siren in the storm, forever enchanting. She makes me feel alive. There’s violence in her song and I am drawn to it. 

I think I’ll go run to meet death and spin around in the storm; brave the elements and embrace the child and chaos within me. It’s better than lolligagging here in the matrix of thought.💭

When you feel safe enough to dissolve your boundaries and expectations with someone, you feel love. Your heart will bloom and the outside world will fade somewhere into the background of the moment. 

It’s a transcendent deep sigh of merging consciousness and an inexplicable powerful joy.