You see the people everywhere. In every city, in every part of the world. The ones who have given up, and all that remains is an empty shell of someone who at one point may have been so incredibly full of glory and promise and life that their shine brightened everyone around them – but then something happened, or the final thing, and they finally decided not to go on.
There are times when all that there is left in my heart is a feeling of despair, when all I wish I could do is to hang my head, admit defeat, and completely, ultimately, give up on life. To end the constant fight to follow my dreams. It would be so. much. easier…
I wasn’t told information that I needed to know on Tuesday – that for some reason I need a police release for my vehicle – just a piece of paper, but unfortunately in order to get that piece of paper I need to insure my motorhome first, and after spending the morning at the DMV to get a temporary movement pass, this I only found out when I went back to the tow company office to pay the total fines – 30 minutes before the other office I needed to go to closed at 3pm to get that piece of paper – and they won’t be open again until Monday.
I was so damn happy not to have to ask for any financial help this time, or help of any kind, except through Social Services at my Doctors. I was able to get a homeless shelter so I didn’t need to inconvenience friends, and was even able to get my phone turned back on – using my imagination, using what I’ve learned from the past, using resources that were already set in place exactly for me and my health situation – but this one little piece of paper that I need completely destroyed that feeling of happiness, of accomplishment.
Another three days in impound at $84 per day. Insurance. The tow & impound fees are already taking my entire disability check, so this is perhaps $400 more that I just don’t have to get Alice back.
Alice. That’s her new name. The White Rabbit just didn’t feel right for reasons I can’t explain – but yeah, her new name is Alice, and this name I like much better.
~
I can’t give up. I will find a way to make this work, and I will NOT give up. I NEED to get her back. I’ve invested far too much time and money making her perfect for the road, making her mine, making her a home – taking care of what I need to to make her completely legal as money allowed, and I was literally just days away from taking her to the mechanic to get her smogged…
I hate more than anything that I need to ask for financial help again, but – I do, and quick as all hell, as storage goes up every single day. There is absolutely no way around it – but at least this time it can be a loan, payed back in monthly installments, and I get my next check on September 1st. Paypal – ksea@CultureFluxMagazine.com . I will not give up, not just yet – but gods, sometimes I wish I could. Also, if you have a business to advertise, CultureFlux is entering some of the most amazing months of its existence yet, and before all of this happened I completely redesigned a bunch of stuff, including MUCH better advertising – and quite literally the lowest prices possible while still being able to survive!
Tonight, however, is going to be absolutely beautiful. I’ve been rehearsing with Vau de Vire Society again, and the show tonight at Sand By The Ton – I get to forget about all of the stress & frustration for a few short hours, and be a part of sharing such amazing beauty with so many wonderful people, making them smile, perhaps even helping them to forget for those same hours what they need to.
This is why I keep following my dreams, keep believing that it will get better, & keep fighting as hard as I possibly can for a life that I believe in – just simply to make people happy, in any way possible, and regardless of what it takes in order to do that. Far beyond simple desire, it is an unquenchable passion, a desperate need – and I have no question that without being able to do this, without being able to bring wonder, beauty, and perhaps even a bit of inspiration to at least someone, I would have given up a long, long time ago.
It is because of all of you – the shine in your eyes, the smiles on your faces, and because you are kind enough to share those with me – that is why I am still alive.
I keep telling myself that, wondering if it’s true – or if around the corner from every small triumph, every small taste of peace & hope, is another fight that takes everything I can possibly throw at it, just to stay alive.
Days of anguish, wondering how I came to be back in this spot when things were moving ahead, just days away from my check coming in so I can get my motorhome smogged and finally get it officially registered. The temporary reg expired three weeks ago, but full registration dues have been paid… yet unfortunately without the temp reg, and the old registration expiring long before I bought it, that’s all the officer needed as an excuse to tow my home. Of course she had plenty of other options. She could have done anything but tow it, and I explained that all I needed was a couple days for my disability check to come in, I’ve been working on the engine, tuning it up so that it will pass smog with the fewest shop repairs, but… no. She took obvious enjoyment out of it, calling me a drug addict, calling me “you people”. Without question, it was the words, cruelty, ignorance, and her pure lack of any compassion that cut the deepest.
Five minutes to grab whatever I can. Warm clothes, Bean’s teeth, my fire gear for the show I committed to with Vau de Vire. Keep it as light as possible, make sure I grab the pills that are keeping me alive… There is little worse than the feeling of watching my home, my sanctuary, all of the bones and mementos from lives past, gifts from lovers & girlfriends that mean so much to me, remind me of times full of love – and the home that I’ve invested so very much time & energy into cleaning it, fixing, painting, decorating, and making it into the one place I feel safe – watching all my plans of finally getting on the road and just rolling anywhere I want around this beautiful, messed up country – being towed away, taken from me, unsure if it will work out this time. Not knowing where I’ll be sleeping that night, and in thinking, realizing how profoundly alone I actually am.
But… but though it’s an incredibly tight spiral, there is still forward movement. It’s a constant fight, but you don’t know the life I’ve lived. It’s always been a fight, but has been blessed with magick, with love, with amazing people – & with small things happening perfectly to help me through the times where all I can do is scream inside. Through it all, I keep believing, do my best to keep smiling – and get stronger, wiser – and more willing to do absolutely anything within my power to help someone else.
This time things are different. Unlike the past, there are no parking tickets on it. Unlike the past, I don’t need to bother people this time begging for financial help to try to get my motorhome out of impound, thanks to finally listening to my doctor and accepting disability – though I’m less disabled, stronger willed, more intelligent, and much more resourceful than most of the people with their ‘perfect’ lives, simply because I have chosen one that consistently tests my imagination in order to survive and keep chasing my dreams . I’ve been through the deepest levels of hell more times than I can count, and carry all of it in my heart. Even those who think that they know me the best know only pieces, and I guess that’s the way it will always be – but I’ve almost learned to accept that, because I know who I am because of it, and all of the hells have been worked through and balanced with a heart that is full to bursting with love, caring, and gratitude for a life that should have ended many times over.
My check comes in tomorrow, and though it will unfortunately take almost the entire amount to get my home back & leaving me starving & penniless for the rest of the month, at least this time I didn’t need to ask anything of you… well, except for a licensed driver to drive my motorhome off of the impound lot.
Still need to figure that out – and then just pray that nothing bad happens before I get my check in September, and am able to get her smogged and officially registered, so that this never, never happens again.
I’m ready for a new challenge, damnit. This shit is old.
First off-let’s take it from the start
Straight out-can’t change what’s in my heart
No one-can tear my beliefs apart, you can’t bring me
You ain’t-never seen no one like me
Prevail-regardless what the cost might be
Power-flows inside of me, you can’t bring me
Never-fall as long as I try
Refuse-to be a part of your lie
Even-if it means I die, you can’t bring me
You…can’t…bring…me…down!
Who the hell you calling crazy? You wouldn’t know what crazy was
If Charles Manson was eating fruit loops on your front porch….
Time out-let’s get something clear
I speak-more truth than you want to hear
Scapegoat-to cover up your fear, you can’t bring me
You ain’t-never seen so much might
Fight for-what I know is right
What up-you got yourself a fight, you can’t bring me
Stand up-we’ll all sing along
Together-ain’t nothin’ as strong
Won’t quit-we ain’t in the wrong, you can’t bring me
You…can’t…bring…me…down!
Bring me down-you can’t bring me down!
Bring me down-you can’t bring me down, no!
Bring me down-you can’t bring me down!
Bring me down-you can’t bring me down, you can’t bring me down!
Tell them what’s up Rocky!
You…can’t…bring…me…down!
Bring me down-you can’t bring me down!
Bring me down-you can’t bring me down, no!
Bring me down-you can’t bring me down!
Bring me down-you can’t bring me down, you can’t bring me down!
So why you trying to bring me?
Well you can’t bring me down…No, no, no, no
Can’t bring me down….No, no, no, no, no, no
Can’t bring me down….No, no, no, no, no, no
Can’t bring me down….No, no, no, no, no, no
So why you trying to bring?
Well you can’t bring me down
Just cause you don’t understand what’s going on don’t mean it don’t make no sense
And just cause you don’t like it, don’t mean it ain’t no good
And let me tell you something;
Before you go taking a walk in my world
You better take a look at the real world
Cause this ain’t no Mister Roger’s Neighborhood
Can you say “feel like shit”?
Yea maybe sometimes I do feel like shit
I ain’t happy ’bout it, but I’d rather feel like shit than be full of shit!
And if I offended you, oh I’m sorry…
But maybe you need to be offended
But here’s my apology and one more thing…fuck you!
‘Cause you…can’t…bring…me…down!
Bring me down-you can’t bring me down!
Bring me down-you can’t bring me down, no!
Bring me down-you can’t bring me down!
Bring me down-you can’t bring me down!
Bring me down-you can’t bring me down, no!
Bring me down-you can’t bring me down, no!
Bring me down-you can’t bring me down, you can’t bring me down!
Can’t bring me down!
Can’t bring me down!
Can’t bring me down!
I scream at the sky, it’s easier than crying
I’m shyest when I’m shouting out loud
I feel so alone in a room full of people
I’m loudest when I’m in a crowd
I’m alone, and nobody hears me
Can’t nobody heal me, won’t somebody help me
I’m alone, I just need
Someone to take my hand, pick me up when I’m feeling down
Someone to take my heart, give it a home
Someone to help me through the times when I’m
down and lonely
Someone to be with me when I’m alone
I’m alone, all alone
Alone is the way I live, it’s not the way I want it but you know
You can’t give in, alone is the way I feel,
it’s so hard to understand
Why I’ve got to be alone
Chorus: If you took a look at my heart you’d see it
I’m trying to be something better
If you look at my heart you’d feel it
I’ve got to keep moving on
If you look in my heart you’d know it
I’m just trying to make my world better
If you look in my heart you’d see it
I got to do it alone
I’ve been down, I’ve been down
I’ve been down, down, down so low
I’ve been lost, so lost with no place left to go
I’ve had emotions, emotions that you better hope you never know
Sometimes it feels like I just can’t take no more
Chorus
Seems like things just keep getting further out of hand
Why can’t for once things go as I plan
How dare you, how dare you tell me that you understand
Let me tell you straight out, there ain’t nobody here that can
I’m all alone, I’m so alone, to be alone, just leave me alone
If you look in my heart, you’ll see it
If you look in my heart, you’d feel it
If you look in my heart you’d know it
I’m not trying to make no one bitter
I’m just alone, leave me alone, alone, alone, now leave me
I’ve lived in places that you wouldn’t never ever want to be
Places where for a minute you couldn’t ever stand to be
I’ve seen things, I’ve seen things you’d never want to see
So what gives, what gives you the right to be the judge of me
I’m all alone, I’m so alone, to be alone, just leave me alone
A room full of people, can’t nobody hear me, can’t nobody
help me, I’m alone
I just need someone to take my hand and pick me up when I’m
feeling down, when I”m down
Someone to take my heart and give it a home, when I’m down
Someone to be with me and help me through the times
I’m down and lonely, when I’m down
Someone to be with me when I’m alone
I’m alone, all alone
Alone is the way I live, it’s not the way I want it, but I
Know I can’t give in
Alone is the way I feel, there ain’t nothing quite as sad as
a person that’s alone
Last night, I had a dog, in a dream
and although for the first time
the dog wasn’t Bean…
it was still good.
I didn’t look around, wondering where Bean was,
because I know that she is still here with me.
I didn’t look at this new dog, and compare
because I know how unfair to her and impossible
that would be.
I’ve been thinking about a new girl* a lot these days
of everything I could think of to think of
and yes, I am no less than terrified,
and yes, I believe that I should be
but there have been signs that I know were meant for me to see, from the incredibly subtle to even tips on how to work the shelter paperwork while living in a motorhome…
And then, as if it were meant to be (& without question it was) Miss Boop swings by to check it out. She didn’t say much of course, but it seemed to meet with her approval.
So, I guess that’s it. I’m not actively searching yet, but after almost five years, my heart is opening to the possibility.
*or maybe a boy dawggy, but I prefer girlzes I just seem to meet them on a higher level – whatever that means. Come to think of it, the same goes with human girlzes.
*~* (And now the bitch session)
Besides – after over two & a half years of the magazine & a huge part of that being the need to trust in humans to do what they say they will do in order for it to simply exist, I’ve found one of the incredibly unfortunate realizations to be that tragically few people’s words are worth the shit that I will happily pick up and throw away.
[Posted using those tiny little buttons on my phone.]
It’s now official – I have named my motorhome “The White Rabbit”.
I’ve been vacillating for months on if that might be the proper name for her, but with the recent (soon to be, need to wait for my monthly check) purchase of a piece of art that was created by Raven Ebner for a beautiful production called “Looking Glass’ by Cera Byer & Damage Control Dance Theater, I decided that must be the name she is supposed to have.
The print is perfect for me, for my dream of just going and taking whatever turns & directions feel right, and seeing where I end up. Putting my trust in the Universe & finding alll of the adventure there is to find along the way. I’ve been in one place now for far, far too long, and my lust for movement & forward motion needs to be appeased – just as soon as I get through the year of Interferon therapy, a shot a week, which I need to stay here for…
Only eleven months to go, and in the meantime I’ll be able to do the things I intend to do, such as paint the outside white (The Beige Rabbit? oh, hell no), and continue to create & re-create the inside of my perfect sanctuary, my home. Something I’ve always been incredibly adept at, and something I’ve always loved doing. It’s coming along, a bit here, a bit there almost every day…
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
In other news, I am ecstatic that my new bow finally arrived the day before yesterday. A simple recurve, which will let me get back to traditional archery – no friggin’ sights, nothing but instinct, which as a boy being shipped off to camp I was perhaps the best of my group, earning shitloads of treasured patches & medals that dear old mom threw away. Now, I’ll just earn them all back and keep them in my heart – a place that she is not allowed to go anymore.
A new wind under my wings these days, and I feel alive again.
It’s been gone far too long, this feeling of hope, this passion to live. Only weeks ago it was a concious battle inside of me not to gather all the morphine I have stashed away and in one large swallow, end the emptiness that I felt. Every single day. No one really knew except my doctor, where at times all I could do was break down in tears in front of him – yet even he had no idea of how close things were, for how long. I’ve always been good at putting on the face that people want to see, the one they aren’t afraid of.
Hell, I’ve had a lot of practice.
I don’t know what changed – perhaps the decision to start performing again and create something, anything – just creating. It seems so simple if that’s the way to fix it, but once I get too far down – overwhelmed, underwhelmed, whatever, once it gets there it takes an entire rebuild to bring me back – and each time I come back stronger than before… and each time the world becomes more, and more, mine.
Now I think I’ll grab another hour of sleep or so, then get out into my world.
I passed someone in the street the other day that reminded me of Albert. Not much, but enough – enough to bring back the memories of those months in The Enchanted Forest, where the heights of beauty – and depths of pain & sorrow – still have found no equal.
There have certainly been other beautiful moments, of course there have – but none so pure, none so honest or… accidental? Is that the word? When no thought went into creating a moment that burst from the hearts sitting around outside – someone picked up a banjo, another joined in with a fiddle – then more & more joining in, and Jemma belting out a song at the top of her lungs, made up on the spot.
The modern-day hobo’s, going wherever the wind blew then, and of couse with that, in that, me finding my own home with them for those few weeks. Falling in a false love with Striggy, finding an honest, true, & lasting love in Tea, and more pieces of my heart handed to everyone to take with them on their journeys as eventually, in groups or alone, they were called back to the road, leaving the ones who stayed there with fond memories and a home to always come back to when it was time…
Silence. Messages, emails, texts about something very important to me left unreplied to by him. I didn’t know what to think. I don’t know where that place is inside of me that is able to look rationally at these particular non-actions of another and justify it in their benefit; not wonder what I had done wrong, why I deserved this… as there must be a reason. Right? Still, there was nothing but silence. Silence, confusion, and hurt, from someone who at one time I deeply respected, at one time very recently considered a good friend.
There is absolutely nothing worse that he could have done. To me, there is nothing worse at all – without a doubt my largest issue, stemming back to before even conscious thought, when, at three months my birth-mother gave me away – and everything I knew, every bit of security, my entire world, and everything that I loved – was gone, and I couldn’t ask why. I couldn’t ask what I did to make her go away…
All I wanted, at least, was something, anything letting me know why. Respectful people don’t act like this. Graceful people don’t leave the other end of questions empty, without even so much as an “I’m busy”, “you fucked up” or… or anything. For days, weeks, I played out over and over in my head what it could have been, but honestly I couldn’t really come up with anything. Our last exchange was me asking you to put me on the list for the show, and you saying yes – but then not being able to make it because the new medication I was on made me feel sick, too tired to go out – and that was the last time we had contact…
Out of confusion & hurt came the anger, out of the anger came nothing less than primal hatred. Hatred towards myself for letting myself feel this way, still, after all I have been through and learned from, hatred towards him for making me feel this way. This is perhaps the only thing I cannot, will not ever forgive, or forget.
Then, the other evening sitting in bed and again dwelling on it, I decided to draw Rune, something I haven’t done for quite some time, but I needed some sort of answer, some sort of guidance, and my Runes have always been able to offer that. Sometimes they give me peace, sometimes only a new direction to think about, but they have never failed in helping in some sort of way.
The Rune I drew was Uruz:
The Rune of terminations & new beginnings, drawing Uruz indicates that the life you have been living has outgrown its form. That form must die so that new energy can be released in a new form. This is a Rune of passage and, as such, part of the Cycle of Initiation.
Positive growth and change, however, may involve a descent into darkness as part of the cycle of perpetual renewal. As in nature, this progression consists of five aspects: death, decay, fertilization, gestation, rebirth. Events occuring now may well prompt you to undergo a death within yourself. Since self-change is never coerced – we are always free to resist – remain mindful that the new life is always greater than the old.
Prepare, then, for opportunity disguised as loss. It could involve the loss of someone or something to which you have an intense emotional bond, and through which you are living a part of your life, a part that must now be retrieved so that you can live it out for yourself. In some way, that bond is being severed, a relationship radically changed, a way of life coming to an end. Seek among the ashes and discover a new perspective and a new strength.
The ancient symbol for Uruz was the aurochs, a wild ox. When the wild ox was domesticated – an immensely difficult task – it could transport heavy loads. Learn to adapt yourself to the demands of such a creative time. Firm principles attach to this Rune. At the same time humility is called for, for in order to rule you must learn how to serve. Uruz puts you on notice that your soul – and the Universe – support the new growth.
I put the book explaining the meaning down, and laughed, my heart a thousand times lighter. I was so consumed with the immediate reason why that I couldn’t see through it to the big picture – couldn’t see the forest through the trees. It is time to rid myself of the need for his approval – approval which I never felt was there. Thinking back, performing for him always made me feel as if he were just humoring me, as if I were a pesky little brother that he cared for, but didn’t truly believe in.
It is now time to step past him so I can become the person, the performer that I know I am, and the separation, while painful, was necessary.
The wheels are already in motion – this Sunday I talk to the organizer of a huge event coming up about doing a piece that I’m working on – the same event I was trying to contact “him” about.
Still, I will never let what he did go. He has taken away trust, respect – and if it ever was there in the first place (& I believe it definitely was) – our friendship. For that I am incredibly sad – the death of a friendship is never taken lightly – but as I said, there is one thing, and one thing alone, that I can never forgive, never forget. It cuts far, far too deep, from the inside out; Silence.
It is inevitable that we will see each other again, as this community, this City is far too small to avoid it even if you try to, and I’m quite intrigued as to what will happen then. Now, it will be more of a game than anything, an anthropological experiment, as I continue to grow, continue to stretch my creativity – and continue to do what I love so dearly – make the people who watch me perform happy, and if I am so very fortunate, inspire them.
Now, ON WITH THE SHOW!
UPDATE:
Just days after this was posted, he contacted me asking me to join them. Man, these issues are a bitch, but – they’re there… anyway, long story short, all is well again and I’m back to my (mostly) stable self.
Drawing my Runes for the first time in far too long, I was woken up to something that I’ve been letting constrict my thoughts, even alter my attitude towards others that had nothing to do with it. “CultureFlux’s biggest proponent”, my fucking ass. Nothing but empty words, all day long. Though still wondering where that person I had such great respect for went, & even wondering if it was blindly given, even wondering if it was through a fault of mine, the hurt that it created inside of me is no more, washed clean, washed away – as he has been from my thoughts of confusion, my anger due to his actions.
And onward to a new day.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
God damn it, how the fuck do I get rid of the automatic line spacing on this thing?
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
It feels so incredibly good to be active again after so long – the pain, the constant, crippling fatigue… I never thought that simply being tired could tear apart my life to such a degree – but it took everything about me, everything outside of me that I love away. It changed me, creating a whithered shell of what & who I once was, the person that I am fighting with all I have to become again. coming back to that person won’t be enough – I’ve been there, now I will be more…
Working next week on a fire performance with Leah, so many disorganized thoughts of different performances to clean up and create, and of course, CultureFlux. There have been thoughts of doing away with it, of laying it to rest, but as soon as those thoughts come I hear something inside of me saying that I am far from done with it – that it is far from over, far from the end of its life. There is still the calling of the road, and I still love having the reason to meet people, talk to them, show them to the world.
CultureFlux is still but an infant, and there is so much more to do…
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
I’ve been thinking lately about grace.
It seems for some that it is only an appearance, a facade. Don;t let them know what you really think – say what you think they want to hear; be kind, warm-hearted, dependable – on the outside.
No. Grace is the ability and courage to say what you feel, to be true to yourself and others, to be honest, to be lelpful.
So much more to be said on the subject but I need to think about it and get back to this when I’m not rushed by my battery meter on my laptop, which is just about dead.
Today is a new day, and I’m in love with all of the possibilities that wait for me…
of Petals & Thorns 