“I’ve allowed your traction to pull me in, nice and cozy, with hope for a better future.
It’s the unknowns and unmet needs that I still struggle with.”
“I’ve allowed your traction to pull me in, nice and cozy, with hope for a better future.
It’s the unknowns and unmet needs that I still struggle with.”
“Seeing the constellation’s looming splendor makes me happy.”
“I’m not sure what is needed to obtain any.
I mean, I keep trying to show up and accomplish what is needed.
Remnants of me appear in the moment.
I don’t know if I am developing an anxiety complex, or if I’m just constantly overextending and, therefore, unable to maintain sense of endurant capability.
Am I sleep deprived?
It feels like I’m out of faith and just depleted.
Are my adrenals exhausted?
A lot keeps happening that I keep adjusting and adapting to.
Yet, I keep expecting to catch up to myself,
And I am not sure that this is happening.”
Was it ambition?
Or the desire to fly high and soar?
“Suddenly, I found myself ice-skating on a river with a thickened surface they had prepared for me, and I was the actress they were filming.
Why, and by what characteristics had I qualified?
But I didn’t mind – in fact, it was quite pleasant to have a synergy of interest with creative people coordinating day lighting, sharing cues and prompts, and just playing with the feel of water flowing over ice as my skates slid and glided.
I was mesmerized by the feel and flow of the river’s curves shloopimg ’round, the brisk air against my face as I passed through the breeze, and the varying shapes, colors, and shadows morphing by in the landscape.
My legs felt weak, but if I kept the strokes short, slow, and directly under me with only slight leaning while tilting, I made good progress – and had reason to believe that I might over time get stronger at this.
The experience was quite uplifting, refreshing, and liberating!
—-
(This mornimg’s dream)
“As other cars and I were coming down the road toward the overpass, something was in the left lane on the one way street, blocking.
So I slowed to a stop at distance in case someone crashed into my vehicle, turned on my emergency lights, and ambled carefully forward on foot to assist the older woman in a wheel chair.
I got her onto the sidewalk, locked in her wheel’s brake, returned to and moved my car to parking, then asked her where I could take her within limitations.
As we rolled along gently so as to not jar her, she lit up a marijuana pipe, and the raw burn of it smelled familiar.
She had complained of being cold earlier, which I could agree with because the weather had quickly gone from intense heat one day, to overcast cool and promising rain this evening.
But she also had her pants down, so I wasn’t going to comment about how this likely contributed.
She had me take her to the far side of a park’s building, positioned just so to be out of the wind blowing around the corners and anyone suddenly appearing to accidently slam into or trip over her.
I wished her a good evening as took my leave, and soon heard her yelling loudly in her reverie as I’d made it further down the street back to my car’s shelter.
I didn’t feel like a hero.
I just gave some kindness when maybe it was more needed.”
“This is why I refused to date while single-parenting.”
(All of it)
“I saw how you kept trying…
Would you extend the same courtesy to me?”
A woman must become powerful in her own way to successfully navigate forces in this world alone with children of her own.
Is she then required to relinquish this power when a man wishes to join and bond with her?
To accept a man as provider has seemed to imply societally this trade-off.
Yet, what then is to keep the man’s interest after her fire is given to him?
Too frequently, the woman’s offering gets taken for granted as the man then loses interest.
And then he goes after another in pursuit of fresh fire, rather than learning how to restoke in the first woman what his apathy depleted.
Why was it that men who were attracted to the mother but were rebuffed would then attempt to molest her child?
A key to not
Lose or break
How would you have known
Had I not shown you my face?
What is this -?
And how is it – ?!
Too many years of walking roads
Trying to find solid ground’s hold
Scrubbing dirt from blistered hands
Fighting off crone in demonic lands
F*** you! I shout to the curses made
Underneath the bane where I still toil
No longer sure if a curist or exorcist
Can tame the ills within this struggle
No! Bring me that champion
Who’s also survived flames
Lo! Having heard him now
Let the heavens proclaim!
There’s only one thing to purify vision
That’s proven souls making a decision
To fuse purpose into one in the forge
Reclaiming by alchemy Love’s sword!
There was a peace in
Living on the outskirts
I understand a bit now why
Some people stay homeless
And why they no longer seek
Connections to family or society
Although I do not think that this is
Something I needed to experience
In order to have
Compassion
Hear me – oh you innocents!
Identify the demons within!
Play out the pattern interactions
Determine on these if compatible
For if their demons will eat yours
Hard battles are foretold in future!
“What he wanted was freedom.
Any attempt to have a healthy relationship with him would get burned to the ground.”
(Title play with words)
“I shouldn’t have been trying to repare and rebridge.
The costs had broken tenability, and my body and soul kept fighting my attempts at healing with him.
But I just couldn’t accept the losses and costs, and I wanted to go back to Eden.
Yet, it was burnt to cinders – with a devil in the vissage of a man who once loved me dancing through them, playing through my mind in awoken nightmares.”
“And I had wondered why, after the fact, too much heat would come out into counseling sessions.
And these women kept siding with him, as he played the rational ‘victim.'”
“It couldn’t now just be about violation transgressions enacted before and then abandonment; thereafter, every single wrong we were subjected to due to our resultant exposed vulnerability combined and seethed in my outraged bloodstream.”
“I don’t even know how we got through the many layered gaps slipping us further and further down into hell – except to say that, sometimes, gravity has its ‘benefits.’
Set up accusations for ‘squatting;’ a contract for slumming wedged between alcoholics and drug addicts; and the illusion of grace by indenturement to a sociopathic narcicist.
These were called ‘reparations…'”
Being ripped from the
Fabric of decency and
Shoved out to the streets
Stripped of titled ranking
Was no way to thank for
Years of service devotion.
“I know that you understand what it is like to lose a love that could have become everything.”
“I wonder when I will be able to focus on me.”
What you give and have given is good enough.
You don’t have to further impress me – although I love the thrill of it.
“Not a fan of it.”
If there’s “too much water under the bridge,”
Over time, the bridge may get swept away.
“Intangibles are now intolerable!”
And because she’d always witnessed men in love walking away, she had thought that to turn generational tides, the solution would be if she endured and stayed, no matter what.
He had to remember and wake up again, someday.
And if she left, he’d forget – and their love would forever be lost.
But you can’t change a man’s mind once it’s locked.
She should have somehow realized this, from the start.
She was pregnant with their 2nd, having lost the first way before term.
They were living in Santa Barbara briefly, in the bottom half of a large house high up on the crest edge overlooking.
One night, they even saw a rocket launching from Vandenburg, pluming its bright light into the glories of Heaven.
She listened to Sarah McLachlan’s album “Surfacing,” praying for the day that he would, holding tight to him, although he didn’t seem to want her company.
She never got the chance to have a real conversation with him, and feared his rejection and shutting down everything if she tried.
So she just sang in the kitchen opening her heart to the universe in welcoming and trying to fashion a way through, making sure that she’d have herself together by birthing time.
He wanted to take her somewhere special, but she was wound up too tight.
He wanted her to follow his lead, but he was nowhere in sight.
Asking her to believe without proof’s insight kept being occluded by past experienced blights.
And her frustration flared because she was tired of playing the fool without any tangibilities.
She wanted him, and it was driving her crazy.
“What am I doing with my life!” It had been all too hazy.
Not for lack of trying or designing – but for efforts required to just keep surviving.
Holding ground was noteworthy and necessary, but not soul fulfilling.