To find Me

Who am I anymore? My heart has grown black, blocked, protected, & I cannot see. But I remember.
I’m increasingly feeling that finding my mother was unfortunate. I had promised myself, promised her that I wouldn’t and don’t expect anything, but how could that even be possible?

If she hated me for finding her, I would have been fine. If she wanted to be a part of my life, even better – but I was depending on absolutes, either one or the other, and certainly not this. This, I couldn’t have imagined.

It began beautifully – exactly, more or less, what I wanted. She was excited to meet me & had my half-sister drive her down to the City. The first birthday of mine after we met, I opened my mailbox to find five cards from her…

And when I could, I visited her. A ride with my half-sister & our dogs, a ride with a girlfriend for a birthday present… but as time went by we talked less & less. I left months of unanswered messages, sent letters with no reply. A desperate ride from a friend to confront her. The only time we really talk is when we are together.

At first I was able to laugh it off. “Gods, she’s worse than me.” “She’s mostly a hermit.” “She’s bad at keeping in contact – I guess that’s where I get it.”… but the walls were already being built.

Of course I remembered how. It was the very first thing I learned how to do when I was torn from her arms. Detach. Hide the pain. Move on.
But this time it’s different. I’m stuck in a limbo of uncertainty, and I’ve worked too fucking hard to break the walls down to ever want them there again – though it makes things so much easier. Insufferably lonely, but easier.

I need to weave a new self-narrative of who I am & who she is in my life. Fragments of what was, what might have been, & what is, integrating the abandoned baby & the adult that baby has become.
I need to knit the fantasy birth-mother & the real one together, who she first was, & who I haven’t talked to in over a year nor seen in nearly two, and as painful as it is, accept it. Accept her, & accept… whatever we are now.

I feel that’s the only way to set my heart free again, to let it feel the light as it once did. To remember that part of me and once more… shine.

The world, this life is not perfect, yet we try to arrange people, places & things so as not to disturb our little fear-built fantasy of what it should be, and when people say or do something that doesn’t fit our fantasy, we feel that they’re against us. That life is against us.

I see people fighting to control the things around them every day – getting offended by the most ridiculous bullshit because it isn’t what *they* think. If someone else says or does something that stimulates the fear they have, then *that* person is wrong. Only fear can make a person so blind as to how beautifully magical life is, how incredible it can be when they give up the need for control of those around them.
They’re trapped in a bubble where everyone who doesn’t fit their idea of what “should be” is against them, and almost inevitably spit their sad little outrage out on the Facebook screen.
But I stray.

My life has been one of nearly constant introspection. I have done my best to simply live & let life happen instead of control it, and occasionally I have even been able to achieve this. ( https://kseaflux.wordpress.com/2005/08/ ~ 6 months forward.)
I look back at the past, remember & re-learn things I have forgotten. I feel around in the darkness of my heart & hope to find the answers I once knew for the questions I have today.

…and I understood that I was blaming this on my Mother. Trying to control her, to make her fit into my idea of what I think she should be. What “family” should be. Who the woman I searched over 25 years of my life for should be.
She didn’t ask for this, though she says she wanted me to find her. That she thought about me all the time.

Maybe she doesn’t need to think about me anymore. Maybe a thousand things. I don’t know. But I’m not going to let *this* blacken my heart anymore.

I was going through old Tribe.net testimonials yesterday, reading who I was, trying to repair my heart, trying to understand where & why things turned. These are from only 10 years ago.
This person is still in me, somewhere… and I will find him again.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~
“I do admire you… I do not know how you do to live the life you live. You remind me of the replicates in the Blade Runner Film. So wild and beautiful like poetry lost in time… like tears in the rain…

Do birds ever come to you?

I will be praying for you these days… for you, my friend, to get home soon. I am so very glad life is good to you because you are so good, way over too many stupidities of this world. And, I might be wrong, of course, for I perceive your nature must bring this need to pull it all the way. Not being a slave at any risk… it’s a pretty good damn meaning and purpose. I believe in you, you are an inspiration to life itself…

I feel you have been giving way too much, and you are so intense, could be dangerous like love… you seem from here like a wild tender beautiful authentic being, more than human. I want to pray for you to find what you are looking for, what you really need….

There is something of me in you; still we might be completely opposites… You are, brother, creator of fantasies, worlds, and million thousand ways to fly. I watch you fly mesmerized; still I wish something wires you to the land… I don’t know why, sometimes I wish I could become that wire to connect you with your land, or at least, send it to you in some magical way…

The higher you fly, the further away, the deeper this wish buries in me… like a dream, it cuts. It’s not easy to say this kind of things, to describe this kind of experience without some fear…

I hope you’ll understand… I hope you do receive a kiss and a hug with these words which aren’t enough, I know, but it’s all I got now…

Blessings”

~  ~  ~
“I find it hard to breathe in your arms. it has less to do with the urgency of your embrace, the strength in your slender sinewy limbs… more the relentlessness of your self. I find myself outnumbered, surrounded, because you are starving, ravenous, for life and love and laughter.

and these things I have, like candies spilling out of my overfull hands

I hold them behind me, not to taunt you, but unsure that I can surrender them without loosing fingers.
you are no tame bird”

~  ~  ~
“it was wonderful seeing you last night. you were looking more balanced than i have seen you
before, gorgeous and fit of course, but also you energetically seemed very clear and free. So many real smiles, even your aura shining. i’m so glad. you’re such a great combination of goofy and lovable and innocent, and fucking searingly sexy and worldly and such a piece of inspiring art to look at. fascinating art that creates itself from the inside out and can reach out and grab a lady’s hair just right.
love.”

 

I miss who I was when I knew the light.

 

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1.23.99 twisted

1.23.99

Of course.

It comes with me everywhere now,
how could it not
in the life I have chosen
to live?

In the pain that was handed to me
on a not-so-silver platter when
I began this fresh life
in an indescribable anguish
and lonely had such a different meaning
for me…

After trying so hard to be like them
I found that I wasn’t at all
so I always searched
for the sorrow
for the passion
for the madness

and the ways to make
all of these go away.

I frequently ended up
giving the drugs power over me.
It helped when nothing was inside.
I could justify the thoughts I had
the absence of feeling
with the drugs

So they became all that I could trust…

but
the fuck has always been mine.

The Fuck is my power
The Fuck is my control
and up until recently

the only control I felt.

I let so few of them see the sickness
and then, only a bit, as even I still don’t know
it’s full depths.

The ones who saw
always came back.
Of course they did.

They were selected for what I could see in them.
Certain ones. Certain women
Something in the eyes, their movements,
a wicked smile, a wanting, a yearning,
a hidden emptiness behind the lust in their smile
the taste of their sweat…

and they always came back,
wanting more of me – more of my flesh,
more of my cock, more
of what maybe they could see in my eyes
before I even dared to realize that it
was there – before I had an idea of
how sick it might be…

but that was years ago,
and as I let it come
as I looked for it in others

it grew.

It Grows.

Still never able to be fully realized
never able to give
never willing to give

the rightness hasn’t been there in the way
it needs to be,
save for so very few times, and those times
only made me want more.

Always more

always someone who can be for me
so much more than a body
as that’s never been enough to satisfy
this hunger inside of me.

Anyone can offer a body
Flesh is only flesh
but if that is all they are willing to offer,
that’s what I will take,
that’s what I will use,
and that’s what I will control
because I have that need and

I know that I can.

 

And perhaps someday
there will be another
who I might finally unbuild these meticulously constructed wall for
and trust deeply enough

to show the pieces of me

that even I am afraid to see.

To go so far past the flesh
the sweat
and the sweet juice of the fuck

to go so far past the body
because that is far to easy and
this hunger won’t be satisfied
until I lay down with a woman and
in love
in trust
in passion

she is willing to abandon
her soul to me.

I will take it
and in my sickness
I will tear it apart

in my sickness
I will consume it, piece by piece
until it is my own, and we are both broken
and lost.

Then, slowly, I will bring it back
carefully mend it
putting it all back together, piece by piece
like shards of a strange dark puzzle
making us whole again –

in my love making her soul
so much stronger and returning it to her with
almost every piece

pure and shining like the stars
her soul glowing and white and strong and nothing
but peace inside …

keeping the bruised parts
the parts where the pain came from
the parts that twisted her
made her afraid
and made her hurt

away from her, inside of me
keeping my own shadows company…

so that maybe,
just maybe
she doesn’t have to feel them

for now.