Strange Days

Lost in the forest, I broke off a dark twig
and lifted its whisper to my thirsty lips:
maybe it was the voice of the rain crying,
a cracked bell, or a torn heart.

Something from far off it seemed
deep and secret to me, hidden by the earth,
a shout muffled by huge autumns,
by the moist half-open darkness of the leaves.

Wakening from the dreaming forest there, the hazel-sprig
sang under my tongue, its drifting fragrance
climbed up through my conscious mind

as if suddenly the roots I had left behind
cried out to me, the land I had lost with my childhood---
and I stopped, wounded by the wandering scent.


Pablo Naruda

I've done a lot of thinking in the past couple of days....hell, who am I kidding, weeks. I haven't blogged as much as I would like to. I hope to rectify that. This whole nanowrimo.com thing (where you attempt to wite a novel, 50,000 words, in one month), is a blessing and a curse. I've written more in the past two weeks, than I've ever written (except for maybe something for school or work) but still nowhere near my goal, and it's definitely kept me from blogging.

I am happy with my bf, I couldn't ask for a more understanding or loving person, but it has made me examine other parts of my life and things that are making me so unhappy.

I want something....I don't know what it is....

no, that's not right...I want me

....the real me, and I don't feel like I am being the real me.

I paint, but I'm never happy with what I paint, although others love it....

I write but I hate what I write, although others love it....

I love to write and I love to paint...They are my passions, but I feel like I am not giving either the passion they deserve, that I cannot pull that passion out of my insides and/or properly represent it on paper, whether in paint or type.

I suck. That's how I feel. I suck. I have no self control, no passion, nothing.....

Ok, I don't really feel like I suck, only sometimes....When I'm being an ass and coming down on myself...Instead of just trying harder....and I know this. I don't know why I beat myself up.

skip it.


Anyway, QB sent me a copy of a case re my previous post about my sister Carol's death at the hands of her husband. The case she sent me wasn't about that trial, (but it DID mention he was acquitted of that trial 10/2), but about a case afterwards where he tried to make the insurance co pay him the 250k that he had killed her for. QB was able to get a copy of that case because there was a precedence set in it, so it is used as a teaching tool. Obviously there was no precedence set in the other case, because she was unable to get a copy of it.

However,

I spoke to someone in the courthouse and she said they could give me a copy of the file for 2.50 for the 1st page and 50 cents each page up to 100 pages, then they go to 25 cents a page. (the stenographers office said they would charge me 3.50 a page) It can still end up being a lot, considering trials can be thousands of pages, but it's better than 3.50 a page. I spoke to a girl there and we talked for about an hour, she said if I send her the initial 9.00, she'll send me the whole file. Not sure if she'll actually do it, but we'll see.

Overall its been a blessing to even find out what I do know...it's more than I knew last week. I don't care what anyone says, it might hurt, but I'll take knowing, over not knowing, any day.


So.....

An old friend called me. I met him a long time ago at a pow-wow. (a pow-wow is an American Indian party/festival/gathering/celebration) When he saw me, our eyes locked and he wouldn't stop staring, he was quite a beautiful man, and I admit I was intrigued. He walked up to me and put something in my hand, and walked away. When I looked at it, it was a sterling ear cuff with a feather hanging from it.

We never became involved, but we did remain friends. That's not to say he didn't try. He was a spiritual man, what they call a shaman, and knew healing arts. Had he not tried to sleep with me, I might have ended up his wife, but his baseness made me lose respect for him, and realizing that he had real power, only made it worse. I may be wrong, but I felt that a shaman, a medicine man, should be able to control his urges, and be "above" trying to just sleep with someone, especially since we didn't know each other. Still are actually, I felt like he should hold himself to a higher standing.

Anyway....


He consulted with a few people that I knew, it seems he told them things that he could not possibly have known, many walked away from him crying, and many things he told them came true. I did not doubt that he had real power. But I also believe many people have real power, though I know for a fact most who do, have no idea what to do with it....they block it.

Everyone is in control of their own minds, and if someone would try to enter your mind and try to influence or control you, you also have the power to prevent these things.

Sometimes he would come to mind out of the blue, and I would feel a sort of probing. I would do things to block him out (sing, chant, recite, vision) and he would call me later that night or the next day and ask why I continued to block him. After a while I shut my mind to him completely. He did some other consultations from some of my other friends, and there was a back and forth with this one female and she accused him of harassment. Our friendship had reached an impasse and we haven't spoken in almost 9 years.


He called the office number last week, looking for my partner and I returned his call. We spoke for a while and out of the blue (go figure) he asked me why I was "so sad" and why I "continued to live in my tragedy".

At the time I denied it, but in retrospect, I suppose that is what I do sometimes. I wear my sadness almost like jewelry sometimes, although I admit, sometimes it feels more like shackles.

it's unfortunate that tragedies define points in my life, but they do. I can't help that. Sure, they're points I'd like to forget if I could, but I can't. I can only seek to understand what may be totally not understandable and totally indecipherable. Even if I get a case file, will it tell me why he killed her? Will I ever know why my father acted the way he did? or my stepfather? or my mother? or my brother? Can we ever know what is in someone else's heart....The answer is no, we cannot. Perhaps that disturbs me most of all.

and perhaps, in defiance of my knowledge, I am hurting only myself. Perhaps I am killing a small part of my passion....My life..... Because I cannot let go.

I cannot leave these things alone. I fuck with them over and over like picking a sore, or twisting my hair, or eating, or pacing, not sleeping, drinking, or any of the mindless destructive things that people do to torture themselves.

I hope to purge myself by writing, then I tell myself, am I doing it to find sympathy? Then I feel guilt when I do get sympathy, because it is then that I realize I'm not looking for sympathy. Although I do realize that circumstances evoke it.

I'm really writing for self understanding, purging, an outlet....

I could turn off my comments, but I like you all to much for that, hearing what you have to say does help in its way.


so fuck it....I have to finish what I started. I never meant for my blog to turn into a purge, but I don't have the energy to start another blog, or change my name or any of that bullshit....

I'm tired. I just want to put it all down and then leave it there. Walk away if I can....

let the posts become older....go into the archives and slide their way down the page until they disappear in a dark archive a year from now.

Maybe you'll stay, maybe it will be a bit much and you'll go to sunnier, funnier, sexier blogs...and to be honest, I wouldn't blame you. I'll still come visit you, and if I do, its cause I really do like you, at least the part you choose to show me.

Overall, I want to wish you a happy thanksgiving. May you be surrounded by love, happiness and people you want to be around. Family is cool, friends are great. Don't be sad if you don't have all of your family with you as long as you have people around who love you, remember "Blood is thicker than water, but love is thicker than blood." Best wishes to you and yours. I'll probably be back on Friday.

If you get a chance, check out my new client www.amirsulaiman.com

Thanks for listening.

Chase

---

Update (next day)

I just finished reading a post by lightfeather on forgiveness, and it made me realize that not being able to forgive is a large part of my problem and angst. I could probably write a laundry list of the people who I need to forgive, but more than half of them I still hate so much and dont feel they deserve forgiveness....not neccesarily from me, but from anyone.

I gotta meditate on this, but I thank lightfeather....without even meaning to, she turned on a light in one of the rooms of my mind, and I'm always thankful for a little light. :::smile::::