Swim

I can swim, but I'm not convinced I want to try and keep myself afloat.

post-its

For the Medic:
there were times I hated you
for demanding but never understanding
and when I stopped expecting superman
we stopped the terror of tug-o-war
laying down our burdens
down by the riverside
where my mother died
I know we both wanna cross over
and you helped me to understand
the Father
don't bother trying to understand
I've grown used to just having you listen
And known there are conversations we don't mention

For You Two:
I don't deserve the lucky charms
I remember back when the lil guy added purple horse shoes
And you've forced sugar on grape nuts,
so I've had moments of sweet
before the crystals all sunk to the bottom as expected.
transcend beyond the tracks of salt trails
and the knowledge of hell
even with your eyes closed don't sleep
hopefully you'll find a brother
who will let you know when the arrows are beyond you
I never did.

For Ophelia:
You were the sweetest thing I'd ever known
Sadly, all I was about was the bone,
So I get why you run with bitches.

For the White Witch:
Blinded at your birth
You cannot see your true image
but false fairy tales

For Binti Jua:
Someday I hope you'll be skilled in your super strength
it's uncanny
how someone so strong doesn't know her power
but beautiful
how you constantly choose compliance
You were born in hope of revolution for salvation
How I wish it were mine.

fire and ice
sugar and spice
often you were yin and yang
remember on my two arms you'd hang
and swing; smiling
doing impressions of the superfriends comic relief duo

to be continued...

Not Just a Dues Payer, Nor a Nay Sayer . . .

Focused Free Write

Yesterday, a colleague flattered me by explaining that I have the soul of a earlier generation. That generation that has a problem sitting idly by and watching things happen. Like maybe, I was supposed to be born in the 60s. I like to blame my parents for my genes of activism. However, I do think the activist genes must have mutated some because sometimes my ideas don't always turn to action. Sometimes, I feel defeated when my efforts aren't instantly successful, or I lose small battles. Could be I need to rally the troops or discuss strategy with my soldiers, my cohorts. But often I can't find them.

P. 38 (Returning to the Road to Freedom)

Returning to the road to freedom.

Sometimes I want to be completely free from what I feel is the futility of life. It's when too many distractions and pains have torn out my sparkplugs stripping the threads. Well, at least that what it feels like. Like all my drive gets gone. Really though, the wires aren't even disconnected. The battery and alternator are good, too. But I left the lights on. Drained the juice, and now as heaven touches earth, I remember blessed rest. Rest to recharge my batteries, and I think I'll go to church and get a jump in the morning.

If You Want Me

If You Want Me
By Marketa Iglova & Glen Hansard
Taken from the movie ONCE

Are you really here or am I dreaming
I can’t tell dreams from truth
For it’s been so long since I have seen you
I can hardly remember your face anymore
When I get really lonely and the distance causes only silence
I think of you smiling with pride in your eyes a lover that sighs

If you want me satisfy me
If you want me satisfy me

Are you really sure that you believe me
When others say I lie
I wonder if you could ever despise me
When you know I really tried
To be a better one to satisfy you for you’re everything to me
And I'll do what you ask me
If you let me be free

If you want me satisfy me
If you want me satisfy me

If you want me satisfy me
If you want me satisfy me


Reality is Lies
By R. Wilkinson
after If You Want Me

When you’re here, I’m dreaming.
My dreams are the truth,
And my reality is lies.
It’s been so so long since I’ve been awake.
When I get really lonely, and the silence is the alarm clock blaring tick and tock moments. Let me sleep. Don’t shake . . . me.

If you want me satisfy me
Frustrate the time. Curse the miles,

If you want me satisfy me
Frustrate the clock. Cuss the drive.

Are you really sure that I believe you
When you say you try
I wonder if you know sometimes I despise you
If you want me satisfy me
You begged for my fortressed heart now you’re everything to me,
And I'll do what you ask me.
You here is when I’m free.

If you want me satisfy me
Foil time; vex the hours.

If you want me satisfy me
Defeat the miles and their markers.

Still Think I Talk TOO Much

This is actually quite odd for me. If you read my previous post, it is somewhat unnatural. While I'm happy that I have people to talk to, I feel like I blab on and on. I used to write more. Maybe I'm talking so much that I have nothing left to write.

Writing is the processing of thought, so if I'm spending more time verbally processing with people lately, then I have less to process in writing. Why did this happen? I wonder if I just needed people to understand me, so in order to ensure that I'm understood, I process more conversationally.

How is this working for me you ask? Good, mostly. But I'm concerned that I'm not fully processing some of my thoughts and feelings. In order to be completely healthy, I wonder if I need to write more. Sounds simple, but it's not. I'm thinking that there might be a level of avoidance. Avoidance of feelings, I avoid uncomfortable feelings. I hate feeling out of control of my emotions, even alone. Extreme sadness or angry are not feelings I want to deal with.

Pressure cooker? Maybe. Somedays it seeps out slow. So I suppose I'm in a situation where I need to pick my pain. Funny, how mammals learn by pain. Pain helps people to be motivated to change. But how do you learn to pick the lesser pain or healthier pain? I guess that's what separates us from the animals.

Fitting in My Own Skin

Yeah, so I'm going to ramble here. Trying to figure some things out. I have always been an outsider. It's not just my perception either. I'm different. I think different. I dress different. I value different things, and maybe because of this my unique set of characteristics have probably ostracized me even more.

When i was young, I didn't try much to fit in. I was teased, and I generally became distrustful of most people. I didn't talk much. I didn't smile much. Usually if I made friends, they approached me or befriended me. This is still mostly true to this day.

When I hit middle school, it changed. Instead of passively accepting the wondering curious kid who decided to befriend me, I started making efforts to seek friends. I remember sitting in the back of a class we called block (language arts and social studies) making sounds like the guy in "Police Academy." This was my effort. I was trying to be funny, get some attention, and maybe some admiration. My teacher would come back and use proximity to shut me up. She told me I had a dry sense of humor. I had little idea what that meant, but I like her. Although she was a little smelly (coffee, smoke, and pretty sure she owned cats). It didn't really work, fitting in. I was still me. I started leaning toward "wanna-be" gangster things, because my friends, well, my cousin's friend were doing that. "I am a nightmare walking, psychopath talking, king of my jungle just a gangsta stalking. Living life as a firecracker. . ." I rapped that at a talent show with the crew.

So now I cared, and I actively sought belonging. Looking back, it all seems futile. I see no point of trying. No longer will I extend myself to seeks friends or acceptance to cliques or groups. Even my friends who no longer put forth an effort to be a friend to me, I'm not seeking out or calling.

So as they say, "Imma do me." But what if me is lonely? Humans have according to Maslow a hierarchy of needs. How can I do me? if I can't get past the need of belonging?