Because sometimes thinking smart is not in the picture.
I'm angry because this has become a thought pattern, although I was told.
If not the proper help, they succeed eventually.
This belt broke.
I'm here, but no one asks if I am ok.
I don't use belts so that is not an option,
Nor would it ever be.
My insides scream for a situation I have no ability to fix.
I am the parent
So I continue to ask the Universe, and the Earth we are on,
Give him some light
And make the belts break
Every time he thinks they are an option.
Where are my people when I need to talk? I don't ever want to burden anyone because I am put on this planet to help others....not to burden. The failure I feel is so immense it is almost overwhelming. Like a heavy blanket. I am here. Working, parenting, loving, leading and caring every day...but it is difficult. Difficult to sometimes find the happiness I need to help others. The person who used to ask me every day, "how was your day?" is no longer and there is no-one who has stepped up to take that place. This is a hard hurtful spot inside me. I'll be ok. I know it. My weakness are these kids and walking looking backwards is not helping to build the strength I need to move ahead.
I'm going to talk about things people don't want me to talk about
I want to die
often
I know it's not ok...I know we aren't supposed to talk about it
it's for teens ....it's for crazy people ...it's for psychos
but....
I'm just a mom, struggling....53.
struggling
I ache with pain from what my son has experienced and what I had to see that day....and the aftermath it has brought. being a nurse, I have seen so much....but this hurt me...his love, there on the floor...him outside in his underwear with no support ....nothing....her on the floor dead......
it hurt me
I couldn't fix it
I couldn't help myself by leaving and going to NY to help with Covid,
I divorced...
I hopefully saved him, but not me
I still couldn't feel like I did anything. I really did nothing....
NY
I was just there...I did what I could....I did my job....but my heart still hurts
I couldn't fix it....
my daughter hurts....
I can't help her
I can't fix it
I can't fix myself
I go to work everyday and help fix others ..........
It's my job
but here I am,
every night with no sleep
with thoughts of death....
with thoughts my children may kill their selves because of my poor parenting
When the heart is broken, non working, unable, a piece of crap for so long....
one starts to figure out ways to feel again.
to feel like a person again....
to see if it's worthy...
not just the heart....
but your soul, and your person
you begin to question are you not only lovable again....
are you even fucking likable?
Are you too weird in the head to let people in?
Have you buried your thoughts for so long they have become a deviant, hot mess 6 inches below the surface and if someone gets that magic key and opens the door...
lord have mercy...
they are no way going to be ready.
even if they adore you from the outside....
the inside...
is
not
safe
but yet as I have been told,
"it is unfortunate that you have this amazing body and are so fun...
and yet....
it's still connected to your brain"
Yes....
all this....
it unfortunately comes with my personality too....
sorry
you are awesome, you are beautiful, fucking amazing....
but...
always....
but....
last call girl
friend to all
always awake
always here
talkable
perfectly fun
"but I can never be with you,
I know too much....
we don't mesh...
our ideals are different...
you would never fit in with my friends...."
"send me a pic...
talk to me....
come spend the night...."
now I learn how to be
how to maybe love again
how to choose wisely
how to laugh
how to touch
how to let go
xo
write ya later
I got this
slow and steady wins the race
m
Hard as it is, because I looked at these texts often when my heart was /is heavy to remind myself I am beautiful, smart, loving and that others can see that.
I also read them to remind myself that
my issues weigh my soul down, yet I have the ability to change.
These talks and texts have taught me to move forward, instead of fear change
In the last year I have learned a lot about myself and continue to move forward in my plans to better myself and life for me.
It will forever break my heart to not communicate with someone I took a chance and opened myself up to...but that is part of life. He knows where I am and how to let me know he is there if anything is needed.
I am thankful
So silly, but a spot is here....waiting, and if able, I would be right there....
for whatever
Clear a space I must....
strong girl....
write ya later,
and ps.
I love you very much and if you ever need anything...
Yin and Yang of life I suppose.
With each birth there is a death
and just as life has it,
with each death there is a birth.
Ilin Blue "Oozium"
Saturday at Helikon Gallery we celebrated the birth of this young man's art, which is going to bring him into a new life.
People flowed in from all over to see his art they had been hearing about.
The artists were all talking and excited to see who this artist was.
This artist, Ilin Blue, was a surprise to them all.
The gallery owner had no idea that Ilin ( Oozium) was only 22...
had never once shown his art before....
The gallery filled up...
they ran out of drinks....
The owner came up to me and said,
"we have never had an opening to this extent before, with this many people showing up on opening night for a group show....they are all here for him. He has all ready sold all of his art, and it has only been 1 hour"
This young man, with the shirt he bought and pressed 2 hours earlier, clean pants and Elliot's ashes around his neck, smiled from ear to ear
( check out the Denver Grillz)
He spoke to people as they came in.
Other artists and visitors asked for pictures with him.
He was happy.
A much needed change from the last 3 weeks.
I whispered, "your Muse made this happen...she is here..."
He smiled at me and I gave him a big hug....
Sometimes , just sometimes, good things can grow out of horrible.
The gallery owner pulled him aside and asked if he would be willing to do reprints, ...
"of course!"
As I walked around the galleries looking at other art I realized how special tonight was.
One artist said " Have you seen the young man's art downstairs in the main building? We heard he may be coming to our gallery to stay for a while. We can't believe his stuff...we heard he draws too....
That young man is on his way up...we hope he stays here."
I smiled and said,
"that is my son."
My beautiful broken son...
I believe they said around 300 people walked in to see Oozium...the artist with his art on 3 full walls,
with no art schooling, past shows, or artist tribe...
Awkwardly shaking hands, and humbly saying ,
"thank you, man"
with his signature little bow, prayer hands and huge smile.
The night was grand.
As I left the owner came up to me and said,
"we would like him to consider a full gallery show in 2020 if he is interested.
All walls, floor to ceiling. I just can't get enough of his humble attitude and if this is his beginning we can't wait to see how he progresses."
This beginning stemmed from an end. The Muse who had all the paperwork ready to submit for this art show....then died.
The submission that almost did not happen because he did not feel like he could do it.
But we said, "Elliot would want this"
and now the doors are open for a rebirth.
They offered him his own studio,
A group of people with like mind to help him get out of his head and into the world.
A place to find a bit of refuge from his sadness.
a new Tribe.....
minus,
the only
person
he
ever
wanted
to
be
with.
The Muse...Ashton/Elliot
He enjoyed the opening, his friends kept him safe...
He went out....he came home...
all was beautiful
All was so good that he said,
"it's time I go back to the apartment"
The next day he gathered all of his stuff and went back to their little apartment,
unpacked and sat down on the bed in which she had only died 1 month prior to the day...
and cried,
and cried,
and cried.
By the time he called I could only understand little bits and pieces but as his mom I knew the pain.
"Mom, this fucking sucks, I want her...physically next to me and she NEVER WILL BE AGAIN"
no, you are right...she never will be.
"I'm laying in the bed and I just want her, so I can tell her how great it was, how I want her to be proud, how I did all of this for her"
I know....but that is not going to happen and she opened this door for you...
please Blue, don't let her down now....cry, be sad...but breathe.
"I'm lonely, mom, I'm lonely and scared that I will always be lonely"
Blue, at night, we are all lonely, you must find a way to be ok with being lonely...
Have a place to put your sadness every night,
then remember
we are all alone when we close our eyes at night...
it won't get better, but it will get easier and at some point you may find solace in the fact you can be in the bed with your heart and mind open and be ok with you, just you.
You will make friends, you will go out, you will eat and sometimes you will just go out because you know you should....
and that is good.
But we are all alone at night.
I love you Ilin Blue.
I am so proud.
Only you can hold your own heart in your hands and make it ok
I can only be here....
watching and listening
and Blue,
remember....
she would be so proud....
she wanted this for you.
❤❤
Each Death Brings Birth
Write ya later,
m
Such a Simple Thing
R.Lamontagne
Tell me what you're feeling
I can take the pain
Tell me that you mean it
That you won't leave again
Tell me what your heart wants
Such a simple thing
My heart is like paper
Yours is like a flame
I can't make you see
If you don't by now
I'll get through these chains
Some how
Some how
Take it if you want it
I'm so tired I just don't care
Can't you see how much you hurt me?
It's like I wasn't there
Tell me what your heart wants
Such a simple thing
My heart is like paper
Yours is like a flame
My heart is like paper
Yours is like a flame
I can't make you see
If you don't by nowI'll get through these chainsSome howSome how
I woke from the dream and realized I had moved across the expanse of the bed and was pushed up against him. Bare skin of my backside, curled against his front
Dreaming of warmth and safety,
skin to skin touching
warmth
so warm and perfectly fitting...sleep
I was wakened as he was attempting to turn away from my touch,
gently untangling the legs I had naturally wrapped around his.
As he used the excuse to leave the bed for the bathroom I found myself embarrassed...
scooting back to my cold sleepless area of the bed, I glanced at the clock and wondered when I had pulled off my sleep clothes.
2:12 am ....my most hated hour of non sleep.
So tired, cold, even under the heated blanket.... and very very alone.
Returned to bed and turning away, I am left to think.
Let it go. No tears, it's 2 am and you have to be up in a few hours to work.
Loveless is a a term I cannot say, because I do not feel this way.
Rejected Marriage may be more apropos. Sex, less than 10 times a year, in a shared bed and no intimate connection puts me into a realm I am unable to discuss with anyone, even therapists.
4 times...4 times
I question me, now....my heart , my body, my brain....often my sanity.
Crying in private has become coping.
I listen to others express how even in anger there is intimacy
There is no anger...just apathy. just inconvenience.
Whispers at parties in my ear..." I hope he knows how lucky he is..., I wish my wife ( insert anything here)"...
heart broken.
I am not weak, I am loving...
some days I wake thinking, " just accept it"
I cannot correct this
This is not for me to correct.
It is going to work itself out.
It will
For now, I just live and love.
I have a few bright spots in my life
and I am trying not to lose them,
Or for them to walk away...
this is a test of patience and kindness, for me.
The need for conversation and thoughts outside my head is strong...
understanding and just conversation about everyday life would help my soul
To know someone has thought about you is one of the most loving feelings I know of.
The special text.
The inside joke.
The little card
The note.
The secretly planned getaway
The "you aren't getting away that easy" show of want.
The Thought....
Something which meant they had to think outside of the box....for you.
Or more so, that they wanted to think outside the box to make you smile.
To me, effort will always trump money in the romance department.
Do not get me wrong, this girl loves thoughtful jewelry (as do most), suited to me..but it doesn't need to be pricey, just original and with some thought.
Anyone can buy a piece of jewelry,
but to know that someone likes a certain thing and hunt for it...
That romantic nugget is priceless.
So simple, yet so hard for many to think about another's wants and needs.
This young man drove 5 hours to take me on a real first date ... I was 3 years older and and in passing he heard I had never been asked out and picked up in a car and taken out. So, the young gentleman that he was....he made it happen.
I still remember how nervous this young punk rock kid was when he asked.
We had known each other for a few years because he hung out like a little brother in our circle of friends.
Just a kid.
I couldn't say no, because he put so much effort into it and he really was a sweet heart.
Picked me up in his classic Caliente car that he had just had repainted....and if I remember correctly we got rear ended in Little 5 Points on the way to the movie.
He kept his cool.
I believe we saw a movie, had dinner, and he took me home, walked me to the door, and kissed me on the cheek.
I believe he was just 16 or 17 and I was 19 or 20....
I had moved many times, and we both went through many changes...
The other day when I was cleaning, I found a stack of postcards from throughout the years he had sent me.
Back before the internet etc...
postcards :)
A young man who wrote.
and was also very punk rock.
What a flipping gem.
well,
Today is his birthday.
47
He has grown up,
No, this is not the Dude.
We still adore each other.
We talk almost everyday and we always joke we have the longest surviving
long distance relationship ever.
I don't believe we had ever kissed or anything else...
Profoundly enough, the bed is one of the most basic staples of life.
Through out life the bed holds the secrets of many things.
As a teen my bed was a haven, a haven where my girlfriends and I talked, laughed, planned and laid next to each other whispering about the day; secrets which were sworn to never leave the room. The bed was a fortress of safety and future endeavors.
Even at 19, I knew a bed was a necessity. A true sign of adulthood, regardless of how adult I felt, I was never above taking someone's used mattress as my own. Nothing a new set of used sheets wouldn't fix. In my 20's in Atlanta I had an old hospital bed, which I adored. Metal frame, rickety, and I spray painted it white myself....covering up the history carried from the old Atlanta mental ward. Now, it would be considered "Shabby Chic" but then....it was not only amazing, but so perfectly me....it fit me, and me only.
Scarves and old rosaries dangled from the metal headboard and footboard. The bed was mine. I found it , coveted it, and it brought me great nights of sleep.
As I began to date, I was always amazed how many young men did not have a bed. A mattress on the floor was often the case, and for me.... a no go. Bunk Beds? OK, at least it is off the floor, But a couch? no.
The Bed....
One needs a Bed
for fucking, learning, possibly sleeping, but mostly fucking....
A safety spot, a refuge, a personal womb.
As of date I have had many beds and bed frames, but have yet to acquire the safety my little metal bed, which was mine alone, brought me.
Sleep is not encouraged by my current bed, nor safety. I cannot figure it out.
My bed looks as if it should foster everything one needs to dream and rejuvenate the soul.
expensive sheets, heated blankets, multiple pillows, light, darkness, comforters and even up and down controls.
but sleep doesn't come.
I recently met a person who swore by the bed they had.
The Perfect Bed.
The Bed You Never Left
The Bed Which Allowed Sleep for Days.
A mystical unicorn of beds.
When I finally was invited to look at this bed I became a believer of the respite a bed can bring.... even though I have yet to experience, as an adult, a bed as such.
This bed was soft, it was cozy, it was perfect size, it was warm, the pillows were soft and the bed purred the lucky recipient into a perfect REM dream sleep.
perfect size for one to two or three....
whatever the fancy.
music, darkness, and the perfect airflow.
Unicorn Bed
Through life:
We start in a tiny bed ....
everything we need and want, right outside baby reach
In our middle life the bed is where we connect, make love and find our hearts and dreams...
and as we lay dying:
the bed we are in becomes all we know.
It becomes our last connection to life.
people visit, memories pass, and eternal sleep ensues.
I used to do a picture a day....I'm not sure I can anymore because my life is pretty non picturesque ...but I'm starting today
2/4/19
This is a knitted sock I have been working on forever . I’m starting to think this sock is a metaphor for my life and current situation.
It's a sock, the colors are not great, there is nothing super special about it, it has taken forever to get to the point it's at, and the more I look at it, the more I realize that even if I finish it, I most likely will not make another one.
Unless ..... unless this turns out better than expected.
The funny thing is that I always, well, 98% of the time, finish things, even if it is not good. I have friends who quit, friends who rip things out and friends who just stuff it away in a drawer. All of those are viable answers, but for me, I have to see things through.
This sock contains many mistakes, each one I learned from.
I can see multiple just looking at that picture right there. Because I'm not done, I'm sure there will be more mistakes and lessons to learn in the near future with this ugly sock....
but I'll finish it....I've put quite a bit of effort into it all ready.
Hopefully when I am done, I will be able to know the mistakes I made, and will have learned how to not make those mistakes again, or at least as badly...
and when it's time to knit another sock....
it may not be perfect, but it will be better.
It's a guarantee, because I do pay attention.
I learned this about myself. I'm a pain in the ass, and I often have been guilty of not following the pattern. This often causes problems, misunderstandings and dropped stitches. But it is honestly nothing that cannot be corrected with a little time, patience, sometimes some help from a friend or two, an occasional discussion, maybe a bit of a reworking and then some good old self forgiveness that you fucked it up by not following the directions or knitting rules.
I have a friend , Ashley ( I like to call her lovingly, Snatchly)... she says to me, "the pattern is just a suggested guide, you only learn by veering off a little bit once in a while....happy little mistakes"
happy little mistakes.
( I think she got that from Bob Ross)
( from Etsy.com somewhere)
There have only been a few knitting projects I absolutely hated and pulled apart in despair.
I destroyed them....
yup, my fault entirely...
Frustrated and confused with the most simple projects, I destroyed them, and there was no fixing them.
As sad as it is to have wasted all that beautiful yarn and time, sometimes you just can't go back and reknit it anymore. The yarn is too stretched or bumped and becomes ugly and just won't work. It is never as pretty as it should have been.
Maybe the best thing to do is, not throw it away, but to carefully unknit it....rinse it in cool water, ball it all up nicely and give it to someone who can take the time to appreciate it again and make it work.
Really make it work.
It's only fair.
The last bit about that sock up there, and all the other socks I have tried and failed so miserably;
I can't be mad at myself. No one is ever that great at something new. It takes practice, and stupid mistakes happen, like forgetting to count the stitches and place the important markers right where they need to be so you don't get off track.
Just remember, you can do better with practice and a little help from friends, and youTube.
What would you think if i sang out of tune, would you stand up and walk out on me? lend me your ears and i'll sing you a song and i'll try not to sing out of key. Oh, i get by with a little help from my friends mm, i get high with a little help from my friends mm, gonna try with a little help from my friends What do i do when my love is away (does it worry you to be alone?) how do i feel by the end of the day, (are you sad because you're on your own?) No, i get by with a little help from my friends mm, i get high with a little help from my friends mm, gonna try with a little help from my friends Do you need anybody i need somebody to love could it be anybody i want somebody to love. Would you believe in a love at first sight yes, i'm certain that it happens all the time what do you see when you turn out the light i can't tell you but i know it's mine, Oh, i get by with a little help from my friends mm, i get high with a little help from my friends mm, gonna try with a little help from my friends Do you need anybody i just need someone to love could it be anybody i want somebody to love. Oh, i get by with a little help from my friends with a little help from my friends.
