Holy CRAP, I spit nonsense. Only a few particles make it here.. but for the TRUE insanity that are my words, visit me here. I’m ashamed, but it is what it is.. fucking Facebook…
Who AM I ?
A question for the ages
for who I am
and who I’ve been,
what I’ve seen
are but wings against cages.
There is no past
I live for this day alone
yet the life I have lived
I ask who I am,
not who I should be
or who I have been
for today is the one day
I know I can see
We are born genius. Born loving, caring, without leaned hatred.
It is life that slowly takes that away.
do whatever you can to hold on to it. Do whatever you must.
and remember, you are always a child.
…so of course, I had to post it here.
|Subject||Don’t make us come get you!!!|
|Message||New Orleans misses you too!!I’m sorry we all left you this summer in the heat to tend to our lives for us… but we came home just to wave goodbye. DAMNIT!
So I went out the other night and…. EVERYONE misses you, deeply. You know the crew. We are conspiring to come get you and drag you back. Its cooling down. Tourists are back in town, most are back from thier travels, gigs aplenty and focus from many.
It’s just not the same without you.We can’t replace you and we leave little white and red flowers on yur spots in the square. (sniffles)
We sat around and toasted you lamenting lamenting… you who can never be replaced, loved by so many.
If you ever want to come home remember the long list of us who were gone through those hot monthes who all love and miss ya. Shall I start naming names?
It is in times such as these, with so very much past behind me, that I need to remember the present and all of everything.
I lose myself, have lost, am lost, but the exquisite memories of who I am taunt me, haunt me. I continue.
I continue and wonder why. Who am I now?
I don’t want to seem an ungrateful dissatisfied fuck, for this life that I have lived has brought nearly every dream, fought hard for and won…
I look to the shadows of who I was and realize that there is still more that I must become… and will.
I must not let fear control me. I must reach beyond everything.
When I walked around the corner to where we planned to meet, I didn’t expect to see so many people standing outside. Sunday brunch in San Francisco, yeah… but SO many people waiting!
I was looking for my brother. Though I have seen old photos of my Mother, he’s the only one I have anything recent of – none at all of my sister. My mother explained this to us in our first conversation; “We just don’t take too many pictures.”
Well, that’s about to change.
I walked through the crowd outside, looking for Quincy, and probably walked right by my sister and Mother, stretching my neck, looking everywhere, but for once I was a few minutes early. I walked inside and saw Quincy’s name on the board, and then I knew. They were there, somewhere. Or maybe they went to get coffee, or, or, or…
Then, I see someone waving at me, making direct eye contact. This must be Mendocino, my sister… but then I look to her left, and see, for the first time, a face that I have looked for in the mirror for all of my life. Wondering, searching, praying that she was still alive – and she was smiling my smile, looking at me with my eyes, beaming so brightly at me.
This is my Mother. I recognized her in a familiarity that the photos had nothing to do with.
I saw me. I saw me in the way she smiled sometimes with downturned mouth, I saw her gift to me in my eyes.
And… I saw her love.
I walked straight up to her, trying not to run, and for the first true time, felt at home as we hugged.
It still hasn’t really hit me yet, the walls built so meticulously are hard to break down – but now, I have the tools to destroy them with.
Thank you all so much for your support over the years, for your words, for your love, for your sticking with me when that’s all I could write about.
I don’t expect anyone who hasn’t been on this journey to understand, but even when you didn’t, most of you still offered me love and support.
AND NOW INTRODUCING…
Annie – My MOTHER!
The time grows near, and nearer. I last saw her 46 years ago, for 15 minutes after she gave me my first breath, held me to her heart before I was ripped out of her arms and bought by people who gave me everything they could – except my mother.
He was a boss, but trying. She… she said things that get in the way of all that I want to forgive. And they killed my dog without talking to me first. I didn’t find out until months later when I returned ‘home’ from boarding school… but this isn’t about them.
I have let so very much go, and I work hard on being free of them… but perhaps I like the pain. I am a fool that way. I don’t like it, but it is familiar. I reach beyond what I know, for that is the only way I will live, the only way I can love…
Off that tangent.
I admit that I am insecure in meeting her. Her, My Birth Mother. The shadows that have created me are soon to be flooded with her light, and what if I am not the person she expects? We have talked, told each other of our love, and yes, I believe that this will be good – I will clean myself up, dress nice, but I refuse to be anything other than me.
I have worked far too hard to become a person I admire and love, and will not waver, not be false.
That terrifies me. I WILL be honest.
I owe her nothing less.
This time, the choice is hers. If she chooses to leave me again, at least I will have met her.
16 days left of a lifetime of searching.
The Circle will finally be a rising spiral… I hope.
Then, maybe a letter to my father letting him know he has this son. He has no knowledge that I am.
And I fucking AM.