days that flew by
Posted: September 18th, 2006, 6:24 am
i was awake, after long and beautiful lovemaking, an rubbing my man s back, i was suddenly at the beach, in one of those hotel beds that seem impossble to sleep in, the ocean calls to me, and i listen to th song of waves and sand swirling , dancing in th water s edges
rippling in my mind is the tides ebbing and flowing, the curl of one wave breaking on another, and these days my mind has done much the same, wave after wave of ideas, cornering me, tellng me that my choices are many, not to be foolish. the other ideas that plague me are voices from when i was a small girl, the faces of the ones that spoke these phrases and words were present as well. My grandmother saying"You just have to do the best you can" My stepfather asking "is the glass half empty or is the glass half full?"My younger sister outside the movie theatre crying asking"why is it over?" I never had any answers for any of them, only more questions. all i knew ws that they loved me, tht i loved them, an i could never really figure out what they were trying to say to me.
the messages that they gave did not always match what i could see, and this is the reason that I am awake tonight, because finally the things that I see are beginning to match what i feel deeply.I learned to trust myself in a litle town in Oregon called Clatskanie. I was very lonely there save for a relationship with a cross dressing woman hater, and a very young man, much younger than I, x-con. I found myself living in a mill town, where the men wear carhart outfits, are bald in genral, raisng buffalo, hanging out with a little fat lady that seemed pretty unpopular with most of the fifth generation finish people or the swedes, or any of the older folks in town. she kept telling me that people spoke badly of her, but i sometimes do not listen real well, so i missed the reasons why, and having only heard her side of the story i had no idea wht she really meant by what she was saying. Looking back i wished I had paid closer attention.
I have been guilty of living in my own world since i was very young.There are some privledges that come with being who i am, although i am not sure how to explain that, only that my life has been rather magical.strange as it may seem.It is as if I made an agreement to do certain things in this lifetime, and the spirits are trying to help me keep my word.
It is something about the children, and as I was dying for the second time, it seems a bit vague now.I know that I was in a tunnel going towards the light, and I had asked "what about the children?"
they sent me back.
These past two weeks I have had conflict, with it seems about every one, except my dear friend Becca i call her although her name Rebecca. she is rather fragile, she is allergic to many things, and diabetic as well as having MS she looks like a woman that has had both her pigtails cut off, and she is brillant.
she took us to the beach, bought us dinner and paid for the hotel, and was so sweet, but I did not bring my car, and felt somehow trapped.
I suppose that being trapped is all in my mind.she asked me to help her write her book.I was touched, perhaps in the head, and agreed to do this.I took her to a chinese furniture store and sh got a dresser for her apartment and for some reason I feel very protective of her.some things do not make sense. I saw her once when she was bit down and under- and I will not allow anyone to be mean to her again, if I can help it.Her childhood resembles mine, was not real pretty.Perhaps it would be favorable to just say certain incidents have made socializing rather difficult.
I would imagine that we have this idea tht we could help other people by writing about it.
I have friends that really like my "married to an italian man stories"
I drove him so crazy that he would say"WHAT ARE YOU DOING?"
and his neck would get all red like his face.Once I asked him what he did for sex when e were seperated for four months,
and he would say "I just pay and I go"
Oh Shit I said
what,what what is it?
"i forgot to pay that guy" I said
he was pretty mad at me for a while
my children like to make fun of him with me too. They tell me "our dad has been in this country for 25 years and he still cannot say "vegetables'
he says veggget-ables
dont get me started on hawaiian pidgeon.
the boyz and i lived in Kauai for 12 years.still talking about the valentines day party we had over there in 88.
but what can I really write about?
that if i had not been in lodge yesterday, in an inipi , my spirit would be sad without ceremony .If I had never walked accross an invsible bridge i would not be here today.all those lonely nights out on the land .looking up at the stars praying for a man, a partnerand now he is sleeping in my bed, here in Portland, givng me loving n th best kisses i hav ever had, and i thank all those stars. and i am grateful for that time, and all those prayers.
at the end of this month I am going to recieve my indian name and I am curious what the spirits call me.My boyfrind calls me "paints with a feather"
we make jokes about "nine fingers" and "two left hands"which are entirely different stories. I am going to a wedding in Beverly Hills that my friend of 31 years said"if you do not come to my wedding it is over'
i laughed, but I knew beyond the shadow of a doubt that she meant it, that she loves me, and wants me there. this is my inner family, my other family.I miss them sometimes.
How did I grow a heart and soul?I held the hands of the people that loved me and walked into the light.The days flew by.I believe that this choice has held me warm and tight.
.
rippling in my mind is the tides ebbing and flowing, the curl of one wave breaking on another, and these days my mind has done much the same, wave after wave of ideas, cornering me, tellng me that my choices are many, not to be foolish. the other ideas that plague me are voices from when i was a small girl, the faces of the ones that spoke these phrases and words were present as well. My grandmother saying"You just have to do the best you can" My stepfather asking "is the glass half empty or is the glass half full?"My younger sister outside the movie theatre crying asking"why is it over?" I never had any answers for any of them, only more questions. all i knew ws that they loved me, tht i loved them, an i could never really figure out what they were trying to say to me.
the messages that they gave did not always match what i could see, and this is the reason that I am awake tonight, because finally the things that I see are beginning to match what i feel deeply.I learned to trust myself in a litle town in Oregon called Clatskanie. I was very lonely there save for a relationship with a cross dressing woman hater, and a very young man, much younger than I, x-con. I found myself living in a mill town, where the men wear carhart outfits, are bald in genral, raisng buffalo, hanging out with a little fat lady that seemed pretty unpopular with most of the fifth generation finish people or the swedes, or any of the older folks in town. she kept telling me that people spoke badly of her, but i sometimes do not listen real well, so i missed the reasons why, and having only heard her side of the story i had no idea wht she really meant by what she was saying. Looking back i wished I had paid closer attention.
I have been guilty of living in my own world since i was very young.There are some privledges that come with being who i am, although i am not sure how to explain that, only that my life has been rather magical.strange as it may seem.It is as if I made an agreement to do certain things in this lifetime, and the spirits are trying to help me keep my word.
It is something about the children, and as I was dying for the second time, it seems a bit vague now.I know that I was in a tunnel going towards the light, and I had asked "what about the children?"
they sent me back.
These past two weeks I have had conflict, with it seems about every one, except my dear friend Becca i call her although her name Rebecca. she is rather fragile, she is allergic to many things, and diabetic as well as having MS she looks like a woman that has had both her pigtails cut off, and she is brillant.
she took us to the beach, bought us dinner and paid for the hotel, and was so sweet, but I did not bring my car, and felt somehow trapped.
I suppose that being trapped is all in my mind.she asked me to help her write her book.I was touched, perhaps in the head, and agreed to do this.I took her to a chinese furniture store and sh got a dresser for her apartment and for some reason I feel very protective of her.some things do not make sense. I saw her once when she was bit down and under- and I will not allow anyone to be mean to her again, if I can help it.Her childhood resembles mine, was not real pretty.Perhaps it would be favorable to just say certain incidents have made socializing rather difficult.
I would imagine that we have this idea tht we could help other people by writing about it.
I have friends that really like my "married to an italian man stories"
I drove him so crazy that he would say"WHAT ARE YOU DOING?"
and his neck would get all red like his face.Once I asked him what he did for sex when e were seperated for four months,
and he would say "I just pay and I go"
Oh Shit I said
what,what what is it?
"i forgot to pay that guy" I said
he was pretty mad at me for a while
my children like to make fun of him with me too. They tell me "our dad has been in this country for 25 years and he still cannot say "vegetables'
he says veggget-ables
dont get me started on hawaiian pidgeon.
the boyz and i lived in Kauai for 12 years.still talking about the valentines day party we had over there in 88.
but what can I really write about?
that if i had not been in lodge yesterday, in an inipi , my spirit would be sad without ceremony .If I had never walked accross an invsible bridge i would not be here today.all those lonely nights out on the land .looking up at the stars praying for a man, a partnerand now he is sleeping in my bed, here in Portland, givng me loving n th best kisses i hav ever had, and i thank all those stars. and i am grateful for that time, and all those prayers.
at the end of this month I am going to recieve my indian name and I am curious what the spirits call me.My boyfrind calls me "paints with a feather"
we make jokes about "nine fingers" and "two left hands"which are entirely different stories. I am going to a wedding in Beverly Hills that my friend of 31 years said"if you do not come to my wedding it is over'
i laughed, but I knew beyond the shadow of a doubt that she meant it, that she loves me, and wants me there. this is my inner family, my other family.I miss them sometimes.
How did I grow a heart and soul?I held the hands of the people that loved me and walked into the light.The days flew by.I believe that this choice has held me warm and tight.
.