Yeah, yeah. I know some of you out there tell me "the past is gone, stop fretting over it." But I just can't do that sometimes. I think perhaps it is because the deeper Me knows I haven't figured the right things out.
Steeling a convention from Jason, the song for this blog is
YouTube - Kelly Clarkson-Beautiful Disaster
Conversations with the Past
Monday, 8th of December, 2008.
I believed in your wisdom, thought it superior to my own. I believed your views, took them in stead of my own. I wanted FAMILY, swore myself into service of yours to feel it.
But I never belonged. Was so scared that I'd be caught out. That you'd see what I had sworn to hide. The greedy heart that wanted more than I was brave enough to ask for. I'd be yours and seek fidelity if you'd asked me to, if you loved me the way I needed so very much. Instead, we built a fortress on false assumptions.
Too many voices tugging one way, then the other. Be responsible. We love you, but not that way. Stand on your own two feet. Play with the kids. Watch the kids for us. Don't hide in your room. If you're gonna be in such a bad mood, take it out of our way. Roleplay with us. You're ruining the game. They're not YOU'RE kids! Stand on you're own two feet. They are useing. Stand with us. Balance us. You can't be our Third, you aren't a Warrior. We figured out that you're our non-sexual Secondary. I'm not interested in hearing about your Sexcapades. Where did you go today. What took you so long. Why can't you remember the proper patterns for things, you're fucking up my patterns just to piss me off. If you can't do something right don't fucking bother! Niether of you help me around the house. Save money. We bought some new gaming books and some video games. Watch the kids for us so we can go out. Watch the kids for us so we can spend time alone together. Stop being so HUMAN.
Don't bring any of your "dates" home. Your getting sex annonymously is endangering our kids. Be carefull what you think, our kids are picking up your kind of naughty thoughts.
I wanted to scream, "I wouldn't be going out for sex If I was getting it at home!" "They may not be MY children, but I love them and I live with them!" "I love these two people, that's why I put up with their shit!"
A child of Chaos whose core self never really changes. A child of Order who changes by adding complexities and alternate pathways through the complexities. They call me a Bright- Shadow.
Child of niether side with more alignment to order than to Chaos. They call me Priest, because my magic centers around my emotions. They bind things up in words and archetypes. But they don't seem to realise that their suppositions aren't necessarily correct for more than an instant.
I am not who you thought I was. I am more than I could express or believe I was. I am different than I once dreamed of being.
Priest I may be by virtue that my magic takes on the strength of my emotions. But I need not worship any Deity to go on living. I exalt the world I see, I connect to and share strength with the Universe, I listen to the World as it whispers in the breezes, in the world I touch with my hands, in my breath, in my blood and in my flesh. I am a child of the world. a child of Life and Nature and Man. I am a child of Balance. One who tilts one way or another to balance the wieghts of things. But I am no more and no Less a child of Order or of Chaos than any plant or animal. There is pleasure and power to be found in the making, following and breaking of Patterns.
I am myself. Every other tag for fram of referrence is flawed by virtue of the differences in how we each percieve things. Still we try. We strive to define and codify ourselves, our world, and the things and people in it. In some desperate need to UNDERSTAND and BE UNDERSTOOD.
A bitter part of my heart knows He has been a walking corpse for long, long before I met them. But it makes it no less sad (and no less irritating) to hear of him giving up. To hear that She must drag him about to keep him from following through with his wish to leave this life. To hear that the children are left largely in ignorance and squallor because of their circumstances. To know that I am partially responsible for all this.
I do hope they find what they need. That He comes more back to life. That She finds her place to stand, proud of herself and her life.
Yet I cannot bear to be the one to rush to their aid. It might be different if I had moved to Mohave Valley and stayed with Mom and her roomates until I could get a place of my own. Where I could be close by and reforge my friendships. But I cannot bear to live where I am not wanted. I cannot bear another house where people resent my presence and have to REMIND themselves that they need me financially. We shall see what another year or two brings before we consider moving again.
So many of us broken people. And some of us are such beautiful disasters:redface:
Steeling a convention from Jason, the song for this blog is
YouTube - Kelly Clarkson-Beautiful Disaster
Conversations with the Past
Monday, 8th of December, 2008.
I believed in your wisdom, thought it superior to my own. I believed your views, took them in stead of my own. I wanted FAMILY, swore myself into service of yours to feel it.
But I never belonged. Was so scared that I'd be caught out. That you'd see what I had sworn to hide. The greedy heart that wanted more than I was brave enough to ask for. I'd be yours and seek fidelity if you'd asked me to, if you loved me the way I needed so very much. Instead, we built a fortress on false assumptions.
Too many voices tugging one way, then the other. Be responsible. We love you, but not that way. Stand on your own two feet. Play with the kids. Watch the kids for us. Don't hide in your room. If you're gonna be in such a bad mood, take it out of our way. Roleplay with us. You're ruining the game. They're not YOU'RE kids! Stand on you're own two feet. They are useing. Stand with us. Balance us. You can't be our Third, you aren't a Warrior. We figured out that you're our non-sexual Secondary. I'm not interested in hearing about your Sexcapades. Where did you go today. What took you so long. Why can't you remember the proper patterns for things, you're fucking up my patterns just to piss me off. If you can't do something right don't fucking bother! Niether of you help me around the house. Save money. We bought some new gaming books and some video games. Watch the kids for us so we can go out. Watch the kids for us so we can spend time alone together. Stop being so HUMAN.
Don't bring any of your "dates" home. Your getting sex annonymously is endangering our kids. Be carefull what you think, our kids are picking up your kind of naughty thoughts.
I wanted to scream, "I wouldn't be going out for sex If I was getting it at home!" "They may not be MY children, but I love them and I live with them!" "I love these two people, that's why I put up with their shit!"
A child of Chaos whose core self never really changes. A child of Order who changes by adding complexities and alternate pathways through the complexities. They call me a Bright- Shadow.
Child of niether side with more alignment to order than to Chaos. They call me Priest, because my magic centers around my emotions. They bind things up in words and archetypes. But they don't seem to realise that their suppositions aren't necessarily correct for more than an instant.
I am not who you thought I was. I am more than I could express or believe I was. I am different than I once dreamed of being.
Priest I may be by virtue that my magic takes on the strength of my emotions. But I need not worship any Deity to go on living. I exalt the world I see, I connect to and share strength with the Universe, I listen to the World as it whispers in the breezes, in the world I touch with my hands, in my breath, in my blood and in my flesh. I am a child of the world. a child of Life and Nature and Man. I am a child of Balance. One who tilts one way or another to balance the wieghts of things. But I am no more and no Less a child of Order or of Chaos than any plant or animal. There is pleasure and power to be found in the making, following and breaking of Patterns.
I am myself. Every other tag for fram of referrence is flawed by virtue of the differences in how we each percieve things. Still we try. We strive to define and codify ourselves, our world, and the things and people in it. In some desperate need to UNDERSTAND and BE UNDERSTOOD.
A bitter part of my heart knows He has been a walking corpse for long, long before I met them. But it makes it no less sad (and no less irritating) to hear of him giving up. To hear that She must drag him about to keep him from following through with his wish to leave this life. To hear that the children are left largely in ignorance and squallor because of their circumstances. To know that I am partially responsible for all this.
I do hope they find what they need. That He comes more back to life. That She finds her place to stand, proud of herself and her life.
Yet I cannot bear to be the one to rush to their aid. It might be different if I had moved to Mohave Valley and stayed with Mom and her roomates until I could get a place of my own. Where I could be close by and reforge my friendships. But I cannot bear to live where I am not wanted. I cannot bear another house where people resent my presence and have to REMIND themselves that they need me financially. We shall see what another year or two brings before we consider moving again.
So many of us broken people. And some of us are such beautiful disasters:redface: