Many moons ago, I lived in a remote town of Tejas. Old as the hills and dry as the desert sands. Lockhart, TX. A little “working town” outside of Austin, where men held doors and women knew what standing by their man, meant. We move a lot over the years, but this home became a pivot point in my life. When everything around me seemed to be in flux, and I felt at times to be in a free fall. The hub of a spinning wheel of thoughts and emotions as I made the transition from hopeful into realistic. It remains the most harrowing, and strangely romantic time of my life.
Walking out of work this morning amidst an early October chill, I smelled it again and my heart ached. That indescribable scent of the early morning dew beginning to seep into the earth beneath my feet as the sun fights it way through the clouds to greet us. It will always bring me back to The South. I long for the solitude and the pain of those days. Days when the whole world felt like an exposed nerve, so painful and so immediate that the future and the past became meaningless. The only thing that existed was the desolation of the moment. Clear skies tinged with oranges and reds, and the sounds of wind rustling the tall grass surroundingredients mesquite trees. The shadows dancing over ranch and surrounding outbuildings; the cattle at the edge of the field beckoning me to follow.
These days stumble on towards a future that I cannot see. Yet I know that somewhere at the end of these wanderings I will return. Return to a different time and place perhaps, but unmistakably to the South. Back to the silent musings of southern charm where I can breathe and watch the world change around me. The still point that stretches a moment into eternity and calls my name with a sweet longing and promise of more.
Tuesday, October 25, 2016
Wednesday, October 19, 2016
Rain Upon My Face
The thickened blanket of clouds send rain like unending tears. The drops land against my window, creating legs like wine on my glass. Gravity drawing the rivulets against their will relentlessly downward. Hypnotized by the patter, I hold my umbrella loosely, almost forgetting my stop. Puddling on the ground, the waters rise, and begin to flow taking my thoughts with them. Streams become creeks, creeks become rivers, rivers flowing onward to an invisible ocean of memory. In this dim half-light the line between wake and dreaming blurs. I long for a warm body to curl into. My thoughts trail off as the first splash from the skies land upon my face. Will it forever be this way? More importantly, does it even matter?
Monday, October 17, 2016
Pace yourself
I grew up in a home filled with constant commotion and noise. TV blaring. Music thrumming. People yelling. Dishes clanging. Wooden furniture squeaking.
I despised the noise. But when the yelling abruptly stopped, it meant that someone was about to get hit, so I hated the silence more. I associated silence with violence for a long time. I filled my space with noise and chaos and it felt good. Comfortable.
After moving out on my own, my home didn't have a TV, it merely contained a boom box (yes I am dating myself) alas my neighbours were old and liked peace. So to be a good neighbour the noise was minimal at best. (literal or figurative) Thus I would pace. I'd just walk around, back and forth running the floor plan like a caged wolf. After my first born arrived, I found that pacing wasnt the answer so we'd walk. I'd walk him for hours on end all throughout the city.
As time moved on as it alwas does, I noticed that I paced less. I'd embraced walking out among the world and it's inhabitants. Enjoying all that they and nature had to offer. I'd distanced myself from those that I'd once called family. Limiting our contact and time together. For many years I maintained absolutely no contact with my birth family, and I actually began to find a sense of peace. I still adore the outdoors and walking / hiking for hours on end; however error there is no pacing.
Happily, I have discovered that I am exceptional at sitting quietly. Peacefully. I from time to time have exploited the shit out of that skill. Here's to all of us finding our inner peace. It truly is a gift that keeps on giving.
I despised the noise. But when the yelling abruptly stopped, it meant that someone was about to get hit, so I hated the silence more. I associated silence with violence for a long time. I filled my space with noise and chaos and it felt good. Comfortable.
After moving out on my own, my home didn't have a TV, it merely contained a boom box (yes I am dating myself) alas my neighbours were old and liked peace. So to be a good neighbour the noise was minimal at best. (literal or figurative) Thus I would pace. I'd just walk around, back and forth running the floor plan like a caged wolf. After my first born arrived, I found that pacing wasnt the answer so we'd walk. I'd walk him for hours on end all throughout the city.
As time moved on as it alwas does, I noticed that I paced less. I'd embraced walking out among the world and it's inhabitants. Enjoying all that they and nature had to offer. I'd distanced myself from those that I'd once called family. Limiting our contact and time together. For many years I maintained absolutely no contact with my birth family, and I actually began to find a sense of peace. I still adore the outdoors and walking / hiking for hours on end; however error there is no pacing.
Happily, I have discovered that I am exceptional at sitting quietly. Peacefully. I from time to time have exploited the shit out of that skill. Here's to all of us finding our inner peace. It truly is a gift that keeps on giving.
Sunday, October 16, 2016
I laugh, you laugh, then I shake my head and walk away
That title pretty much sums up my interactions so with a great many people. I'm well beyond wasting what precious time I have on fruitless relationships, or weird men whom somehow think that a compliment is a contract. Don't get me wrong a compliment is a lovely thing indeed. Be it in person or via social media. However complimenting me on my looks, well that will get you a polite thank you. Bring your A game and engage me in actual conversation that doesn't involve you gushing over how pretty I am and you're golden.
The fact is, I hold little to no value on looks. Mine or yours. Yes, we all have something about a person that we will find attreactive but that's just the eye opener to taking a chance on finding out more. I have in recent months recieved countless messages ranging from, "you are a goddess, how I could worship you for hours" to the "hi, I find you really hot care to snapchat or email?" Of course there's the ever charming, "wow you're cute! Have any more pictures?" Each of these messages causes one or two of the same reactions. 1: I roll my eyes and vomit in my mouth a little or 2: I laugh at the absurdity of it all and promise to remain single forever.
As has been noted many times, I do enjoy my own company. I feel no need to surround myself by those with superficial or stunted social skills. Engage my brain, be compassionate, love animals, be an advocate, have tattoos, have a well functioning brain, be circumsized, respect our service men and women. Don't be a simpering little duche bag. (Ie: grown men don't fucking whine.) I'm a simple gal really. The later is as big a turn off as the recent comments of, "omg I just can't look away..." repeated ad nauseum in 15 messages sent daily by someone I've never held an actual conversation with over one of my pictures.
One of the other questions that makes me shake my head is, "do you like big dicks?" And of course all of the other variations of that question. I tend to respond do with a snazzy comment like, "not if their attached to even bigger assholes." Both penises and vaginas are fabulous things, but if that's all you have to offer someone; well that's pretty sad. Seriously if the guy or girl you're dating opens with a greeting of "did you miss my _____" it's time to find a new partner. I don't think, no I know I wouldn't be able to hold my laughter in at the absurdity of such a question from someone whose supposed to value me as a partner.
The fact is, I hold little to no value on looks. Mine or yours. Yes, we all have something about a person that we will find attreactive but that's just the eye opener to taking a chance on finding out more. I have in recent months recieved countless messages ranging from, "you are a goddess, how I could worship you for hours" to the "hi, I find you really hot care to snapchat or email?" Of course there's the ever charming, "wow you're cute! Have any more pictures?" Each of these messages causes one or two of the same reactions. 1: I roll my eyes and vomit in my mouth a little or 2: I laugh at the absurdity of it all and promise to remain single forever.
As has been noted many times, I do enjoy my own company. I feel no need to surround myself by those with superficial or stunted social skills. Engage my brain, be compassionate, love animals, be an advocate, have tattoos, have a well functioning brain, be circumsized, respect our service men and women. Don't be a simpering little duche bag. (Ie: grown men don't fucking whine.) I'm a simple gal really. The later is as big a turn off as the recent comments of, "omg I just can't look away..." repeated ad nauseum in 15 messages sent daily by someone I've never held an actual conversation with over one of my pictures.
One of the other questions that makes me shake my head is, "do you like big dicks?" And of course all of the other variations of that question. I tend to respond do with a snazzy comment like, "not if their attached to even bigger assholes." Both penises and vaginas are fabulous things, but if that's all you have to offer someone; well that's pretty sad. Seriously if the guy or girl you're dating opens with a greeting of "did you miss my _____" it's time to find a new partner. I don't think, no I know I wouldn't be able to hold my laughter in at the absurdity of such a question from someone whose supposed to value me as a partner.
Saturday, October 15, 2016
The Traveler
The Traveler stopped by for the night. He needed a couch to surf and a free washing machine for his scant belongings before heading back out into the world of weary nomadic yetties. It's been 9 1/2 months since we last spoke. 9 and a 1/2 months since I last did his laundry and sent him off to parts unknown all freshly fluffed and folded. We laughed at that quite heartily over a steaming mug of homemade Chai with milk and honey. To think I used to be the nomadic one and now here I am, almost 2 years in the same place. It makes me smile and my skin itch all at once.
I cut his hair and gave him a much needed shave. All the while listening to his tales of abroad. The waves he surfed, the shanty he slept in during a storm, the old man he befriended, and the top less woman he swore reminded him of me. I love listening to his traveling tales. He can be so descriptive that it has me right there in the moment with him, feeling the sun on my upturned face, and the spray of ocean water on my skin. The Travelers stories help to ebb my wanderlust. Well that and I do adore a person who can truly appreciate a good cuppa Chai with me.
Finally we settled down and watched the sci-fi channel for a bit while giggling over the fact that the only place The Traveler hasn't been to is the moon. We finally dozed off, or at least I did curled up against Traveler since he'd been playing with my hair. What can I say it's a weakness that completely relaxes me. I'll take the closeness and pampering while it's readily available before it's just dog slobber and bed head for days on end. I was just embracing my dream world of being ensconced in the biggest most comfy blanket when a deep very masculine voice brought me out of my happy place.
"Sex in zero gravity would be difficult as hell. I'm not even sure it's possible, do you think it is?," his baritone voice making his chest rumble against the side of my face. This serious inquiry at 3 a.m. reminding me why I never got much sleep when Traveler came around. We never fail to get into odd discussions in the wee hours of the morning. These are the issues that keep my Traveler - and thus, myself - up at odd hours. Yes, I've been accused of keeping others awake with silly talk. Unable to sleep many nights, leaving my mind to wander over such inane questions as "I wonder if Diesel would be any good in bed?" Or "Would Angelina Jolie and I make a good couple?" I however tend not to blurt them out when my sleep over partner is in some deep slumber.
Now, rather than actually enjoying gravity-assisted sex (as for now, I was wide awake. Wide awake with my face nestled into this firm very masculine chest and that chest should have at the very least be pinning me down with fewer hypothetical questions, and way more moaning athe this hour), he continued talking and now stroking my hair again. "I think it would probably be difficult. Obviously obtaining any traction would be problematic at best." Obviously, I sighed in a mixture of hair stroking pleasure and sleep deprived an annoyance. The chuckle he let out shook his chest and made me want to yank his beard like a 14 year old. "It's not just about the grip princess," he continued to chuckle while tightening his grip in my hair. "Traction is important. you know that, right?" he continued, posing a question (unlike my Diesel query) that could actually be answered.
"Yes as I recall, traction does have it's merits," was my muffled response. "And if you promise not to laugh so hard at me again the next time I dare to be so risque as to wear a silk night gown on satin sheets, I promise to warn you before trying that move again so I don't fall ass first off the side of the bed...again. now...may I please go back into the bliss of dreamland?" "Oh it's possible I suppose, what were you dreaming about? I guess I would have to strap you down." My eyes widdened to the size of dinner plates before I screwed them shut trying to follow along with this broken portion of our conversation. "Maybe tie ourselves together, it's not like I haven't been handcuffed to you before," he continued with a grin as he spoke. It was one of those grins you could hear in his tone.
For a minute - maybe five - I was unable to answer, lost in a memory. As I tried to raise my head, those lumberjack arms tightened back around me. "Go to sleep princess," he murmured breaking me out of my moment. "You're gonna need it, tomorrow we can test out that silk and satin combo again. Although this time you won't need to worry about sliding anywhere." He'll be gone in another few days, until then I'm just going to say, "sweet dreams and yes Sir."
I cut his hair and gave him a much needed shave. All the while listening to his tales of abroad. The waves he surfed, the shanty he slept in during a storm, the old man he befriended, and the top less woman he swore reminded him of me. I love listening to his traveling tales. He can be so descriptive that it has me right there in the moment with him, feeling the sun on my upturned face, and the spray of ocean water on my skin. The Travelers stories help to ebb my wanderlust. Well that and I do adore a person who can truly appreciate a good cuppa Chai with me.
Finally we settled down and watched the sci-fi channel for a bit while giggling over the fact that the only place The Traveler hasn't been to is the moon. We finally dozed off, or at least I did curled up against Traveler since he'd been playing with my hair. What can I say it's a weakness that completely relaxes me. I'll take the closeness and pampering while it's readily available before it's just dog slobber and bed head for days on end. I was just embracing my dream world of being ensconced in the biggest most comfy blanket when a deep very masculine voice brought me out of my happy place.
"Sex in zero gravity would be difficult as hell. I'm not even sure it's possible, do you think it is?," his baritone voice making his chest rumble against the side of my face. This serious inquiry at 3 a.m. reminding me why I never got much sleep when Traveler came around. We never fail to get into odd discussions in the wee hours of the morning. These are the issues that keep my Traveler - and thus, myself - up at odd hours. Yes, I've been accused of keeping others awake with silly talk. Unable to sleep many nights, leaving my mind to wander over such inane questions as "I wonder if Diesel would be any good in bed?" Or "Would Angelina Jolie and I make a good couple?" I however tend not to blurt them out when my sleep over partner is in some deep slumber.
Now, rather than actually enjoying gravity-assisted sex (as for now, I was wide awake. Wide awake with my face nestled into this firm very masculine chest and that chest should have at the very least be pinning me down with fewer hypothetical questions, and way more moaning athe this hour), he continued talking and now stroking my hair again. "I think it would probably be difficult. Obviously obtaining any traction would be problematic at best." Obviously, I sighed in a mixture of hair stroking pleasure and sleep deprived an annoyance. The chuckle he let out shook his chest and made me want to yank his beard like a 14 year old. "It's not just about the grip princess," he continued to chuckle while tightening his grip in my hair. "Traction is important. you know that, right?" he continued, posing a question (unlike my Diesel query) that could actually be answered.
"Yes as I recall, traction does have it's merits," was my muffled response. "And if you promise not to laugh so hard at me again the next time I dare to be so risque as to wear a silk night gown on satin sheets, I promise to warn you before trying that move again so I don't fall ass first off the side of the bed...again. now...may I please go back into the bliss of dreamland?" "Oh it's possible I suppose, what were you dreaming about? I guess I would have to strap you down." My eyes widdened to the size of dinner plates before I screwed them shut trying to follow along with this broken portion of our conversation. "Maybe tie ourselves together, it's not like I haven't been handcuffed to you before," he continued with a grin as he spoke. It was one of those grins you could hear in his tone.
For a minute - maybe five - I was unable to answer, lost in a memory. As I tried to raise my head, those lumberjack arms tightened back around me. "Go to sleep princess," he murmured breaking me out of my moment. "You're gonna need it, tomorrow we can test out that silk and satin combo again. Although this time you won't need to worry about sliding anywhere." He'll be gone in another few days, until then I'm just going to say, "sweet dreams and yes Sir."
Friday, October 14, 2016
Jesus isn't my homeboy
He ain't even invited to the party. Nothing annoys me more than anyone trying to force their religious beliefs upon me. Don't rape my mind or soul, thank you very much. I find all religions quite interesting. From their dogmatic followers to their lost in translation hard lines, and enforced rules. How this sect abhors halloween, to how this other sect believes rats are the embodiment of their reincarnated ancestors.
This past week one of my coworkers was comisserating on how she didn't get to go to church and talk to jesus. I smiled and said, " you don't have to be in a church to have him with you. If you believe, he's always with you." Apparently I didn't understand that she needs the building and the other believers to feel the joy of being surrounded by other believers. My lack luster "ahhh" had her asking what church I went to. I responded how I did not need to attend a church to have faith in my beliefs, but that while born and raised Roman catholic but also embraced and was taught a more earth based faith by another family member; that I no longer attend church. I didn't believe in her God or jesus.
I should have just remained silent.
"But if you don't believe in God how can you keep the devil away?" Came the astounded question. For the third or maybe fourth time in my life I remained unengaged, unfaultering and neutral in my emotions as I replied. "The devil is a Christian ideology. Thus I don't believe in it either." Apparently they disagreed as they said you don't have to believe in one to believe in the other. I remained quiet but still disagree.
Evil. Yes their is evil in the world. A great deal of it in fact. It lies in the hearts and minds of men, women, and yes even children. I need not believe in the devil or his ghostly counterpart to believe that.
This past week one of my coworkers was comisserating on how she didn't get to go to church and talk to jesus. I smiled and said, " you don't have to be in a church to have him with you. If you believe, he's always with you." Apparently I didn't understand that she needs the building and the other believers to feel the joy of being surrounded by other believers. My lack luster "ahhh" had her asking what church I went to. I responded how I did not need to attend a church to have faith in my beliefs, but that while born and raised Roman catholic but also embraced and was taught a more earth based faith by another family member; that I no longer attend church. I didn't believe in her God or jesus.
I should have just remained silent.
"But if you don't believe in God how can you keep the devil away?" Came the astounded question. For the third or maybe fourth time in my life I remained unengaged, unfaultering and neutral in my emotions as I replied. "The devil is a Christian ideology. Thus I don't believe in it either." Apparently they disagreed as they said you don't have to believe in one to believe in the other. I remained quiet but still disagree.
Evil. Yes their is evil in the world. A great deal of it in fact. It lies in the hearts and minds of men, women, and yes even children. I need not believe in the devil or his ghostly counterpart to believe that.
Wednesday, October 12, 2016
Stories from a stranger
On of my relatives, kind of distant reached out to me. It was weird, mostly because she's older than me and I do not remember her at all. I scoured the old entries, and nothing. I've got nothing I tell ya. I researched by given name, possible nick names, initials. Nada. Zip. Zero. Zilch. Bupkis.
She seems nice. She told me stories about me as a kid that I was able to verify in my older entries that no one has seen. Cool. Shes super-d-duper direct. I like that. It's uncomfortable and funny as fuck. She made a comment about p0rn, I sat stunned for a second then laughed until I cried. It was so brutally honest it was refreshing.
I'm not so sure if she'll stick around or slip away like all of the others I pay only a passing interest in. For the moment however it's nice. She knows that too. Understands it even. Didn't state if she approved or disapproved but said she understood. Once again, refreshing. I was once the friend that was the glue for everyone and everything. It was time consuming and a thankless job.
It's a well documented fact that I suck to have as a friend. Well that's how I see it anyways. I don't put in any effort if the other person doesn't. Not a lick. I've never had an issue walking away, alone. I like my own company. I miss having that one close friend that I can touch base with everyday. Someone to laugh at the days bullshit with, but over the last 15 years I've gotten used to keeping my own counsel. There's less bodycount take that way.
She seems nice. She told me stories about me as a kid that I was able to verify in my older entries that no one has seen. Cool. Shes super-d-duper direct. I like that. It's uncomfortable and funny as fuck. She made a comment about p0rn, I sat stunned for a second then laughed until I cried. It was so brutally honest it was refreshing.
I'm not so sure if she'll stick around or slip away like all of the others I pay only a passing interest in. For the moment however it's nice. She knows that too. Understands it even. Didn't state if she approved or disapproved but said she understood. Once again, refreshing. I was once the friend that was the glue for everyone and everything. It was time consuming and a thankless job.
It's a well documented fact that I suck to have as a friend. Well that's how I see it anyways. I don't put in any effort if the other person doesn't. Not a lick. I've never had an issue walking away, alone. I like my own company. I miss having that one close friend that I can touch base with everyday. Someone to laugh at the days bullshit with, but over the last 15 years I've gotten used to keeping my own counsel. There's less bodycount take that way.
Sunday, October 9, 2016
Aging with flare
1. I've noticed a lot more facial hair lately. It'should black and coarse and yes I understand it is all a part of aging. Well either that or I have spent so much time in the company of wolves that I am turning into one. I believe I may be failing at growing old gracefully.
2. I have embraced massages. This is a splurge that I am willing to budget heavily for if necessary. Although when I loose toral feeling in my hands and arms, or the numbness in my thumbs fades to sheer pain; it's less indulgence and more therapy so I can continue to unzip my own pants.
3. Today I looked into the mirror and actually studied my face. It's not sone thing I typically do. I don't fuss over lines, wrinkles, age spots. I'm getting old and that's ok. Today though, I noticed a new line next to the corner of my mouth. For a split second one that sarcastic bitch in my shouted out, "fucking great, now we've got old hooked mouth." It wasn't my best self assured moment. I should probably just get laid.
4. I had a 10 extra minutes in the shower to scrub away the grease build up from work. Did you have any idea that shit soaks into your pores and even when you're clean it's there waiting below the surface to ooze out like a bad ex? I didn't. So I scrubbed and scraped thone first 2 layers of flesh right off. I can't believe people pay for that. Ps: my skin hurts.
5. I had wine, while overly tired and dyeing my eyelashes. What could go wrong there?
6. I have full vision again, encased by gorgeous lashes. So Im chaulking it all up as a win. Im like a beauty doctor, or an eye surgeon.
7. I had a coffee date, cause good, bad, or indifferent; coffee! So yay! He had a slightly larger head ontop of a regular sized body. No biggie. But he had time you hands.... fuck that shit I was so outta there.
8. Yes I am fully aware of my front row seat status in hell. With age comes wisdom.
2. I have embraced massages. This is a splurge that I am willing to budget heavily for if necessary. Although when I loose toral feeling in my hands and arms, or the numbness in my thumbs fades to sheer pain; it's less indulgence and more therapy so I can continue to unzip my own pants.
3. Today I looked into the mirror and actually studied my face. It's not sone thing I typically do. I don't fuss over lines, wrinkles, age spots. I'm getting old and that's ok. Today though, I noticed a new line next to the corner of my mouth. For a split second one that sarcastic bitch in my shouted out, "fucking great, now we've got old hooked mouth." It wasn't my best self assured moment. I should probably just get laid.
4. I had a 10 extra minutes in the shower to scrub away the grease build up from work. Did you have any idea that shit soaks into your pores and even when you're clean it's there waiting below the surface to ooze out like a bad ex? I didn't. So I scrubbed and scraped thone first 2 layers of flesh right off. I can't believe people pay for that. Ps: my skin hurts.
5. I had wine, while overly tired and dyeing my eyelashes. What could go wrong there?
6. I have full vision again, encased by gorgeous lashes. So Im chaulking it all up as a win. Im like a beauty doctor, or an eye surgeon.
7. I had a coffee date, cause good, bad, or indifferent; coffee! So yay! He had a slightly larger head ontop of a regular sized body. No biggie. But he had time you hands.... fuck that shit I was so outta there.
8. Yes I am fully aware of my front row seat status in hell. With age comes wisdom.
Saturday, October 8, 2016
Smelling Salts and Cider
Touching base with LoneRider was good. He's back doing what he loves and throwing himself into it with a renewed zest. There's always an ease when we talk, which I adore. Some friendships are meant to last. I'm glad he's in my corner and vice versa. He'll make it home for Thanksgiving I time to hold his niece and eat pie, while this year I delve into another 12 hour shift surrounded by strangers. Strangers whom are slowly becoming friends.
On my next day off I'll make Esme and I am dinner with all the trimmings. This year... well this year I want to bank as much as possible and try like hell to get a little bit ahead in the game of life. I'd very much enjoy having more money than month for a change. A girl can dream can't she? For now my love and hope that you all and my stoney-faced accomplice LoneRider are surrounded by those you love and who love you in return.
And on the first night we met you said "Well darling, let's make a deal. If anybody ever asks us, let's just tell them that we met in jail." And that's the story that I'm sticking to like a stony-faced accomplice But tonight I need to hear some truth if I'm ever getting through this. Yeah you once sent me a letter that said "If you're lost at sea, Close your eyes and catch the tide my dear and only think of me." Well darling now I'm sinking and I'm as lost as lost can be And I was hoping you could drag me up from down here towards my recovery.
-Frank Turner
On my next day off I'll make Esme and I am dinner with all the trimmings. This year... well this year I want to bank as much as possible and try like hell to get a little bit ahead in the game of life. I'd very much enjoy having more money than month for a change. A girl can dream can't she? For now my love and hope that you all and my stoney-faced accomplice LoneRider are surrounded by those you love and who love you in return.
And on the first night we met you said "Well darling, let's make a deal. If anybody ever asks us, let's just tell them that we met in jail." And that's the story that I'm sticking to like a stony-faced accomplice But tonight I need to hear some truth if I'm ever getting through this. Yeah you once sent me a letter that said "If you're lost at sea, Close your eyes and catch the tide my dear and only think of me." Well darling now I'm sinking and I'm as lost as lost can be And I was hoping you could drag me up from down here towards my recovery.
-Frank Turner
Monday, October 3, 2016
Part hood, part good.
Radical honesty is a full-time job. This truth goes directly against almost everyone's work ethic. Be it retail, office work, customer service or hell even a job interview; lying is key. Some would call it "shades of the truth" but let's cut the bullshit, it's lying. I had a district manager who demanded the truth was always in high priority! She claimed to value it above all else.
She was a liar. She was also terrible at hiring people. 8 out of the 10 people she hired were such bad candidates that it would have been laughable if it weren't horrifically sad. I had stold by and watched these events unfolding time and time again. I finally couldn't take the foolishness anymore and told her the truth. A simple statment of facts with their corresponding outcomes. It went over like a lead balloon.
I’m passionate about quite a few things in this world, of course those things tend not to be as popular with the general person. I live my life in relative comfort. I toil daily to make ends meet, through all of the time-consuming, laborious tasks that usually entitle people to that kind of comfort. I do find many of not most people, want to live like a rappers without being a rappers. If you happen to meet anyone who’s never laid down a single track or been taken into custody for disorderly conduct and unlawful possession of a firearm but still lives like Rick Ross, then you may have a better understanding. I’m actually a fan of hard work, but very occasionally, I dream of a job that allows me to just sit pretty while amassing vaults of cash.
So at the beginning of October, when I made the commitment to get real and work in a far more honest enviroment, I thought that a monthlong break would be enough time to address my demons, and I would come back, envigrated and ready to hit the workforce ground running. That lasted all of 3 days. After a small amount of paaperwork and an hour long interview, I was once again gainfully employed. My allotting 30 days to clear away debris like dust in the wind seemed pretty generous, and I actually made a list of things I might try in case I finished a few days early. I watched a tutorial on how to create the perfect winged eyeliner with a smokey eye and that bitch was #1 on my list.
I know the facts but I'm still not sure how 30 days turned into just 3. So I'd just like to mention the if any of the coping mechanisms you use to stay functional involve pushing down grief and pain and rage about your past or your present, and you unlatch the gate that’s been corralling those feelings and they all escape in a mad rush and you have to chase each one down to see if it really belongs to you or it can be returned to the wild, um, you’re not going to have time to work on the perfect winged eyeliner. Not in three days. Yeah, I know, it was a surprise to me too.
She was a liar. She was also terrible at hiring people. 8 out of the 10 people she hired were such bad candidates that it would have been laughable if it weren't horrifically sad. I had stold by and watched these events unfolding time and time again. I finally couldn't take the foolishness anymore and told her the truth. A simple statment of facts with their corresponding outcomes. It went over like a lead balloon.
I’m passionate about quite a few things in this world, of course those things tend not to be as popular with the general person. I live my life in relative comfort. I toil daily to make ends meet, through all of the time-consuming, laborious tasks that usually entitle people to that kind of comfort. I do find many of not most people, want to live like a rappers without being a rappers. If you happen to meet anyone who’s never laid down a single track or been taken into custody for disorderly conduct and unlawful possession of a firearm but still lives like Rick Ross, then you may have a better understanding. I’m actually a fan of hard work, but very occasionally, I dream of a job that allows me to just sit pretty while amassing vaults of cash.
So at the beginning of October, when I made the commitment to get real and work in a far more honest enviroment, I thought that a monthlong break would be enough time to address my demons, and I would come back, envigrated and ready to hit the workforce ground running. That lasted all of 3 days. After a small amount of paaperwork and an hour long interview, I was once again gainfully employed. My allotting 30 days to clear away debris like dust in the wind seemed pretty generous, and I actually made a list of things I might try in case I finished a few days early. I watched a tutorial on how to create the perfect winged eyeliner with a smokey eye and that bitch was #1 on my list.
I know the facts but I'm still not sure how 30 days turned into just 3. So I'd just like to mention the if any of the coping mechanisms you use to stay functional involve pushing down grief and pain and rage about your past or your present, and you unlatch the gate that’s been corralling those feelings and they all escape in a mad rush and you have to chase each one down to see if it really belongs to you or it can be returned to the wild, um, you’re not going to have time to work on the perfect winged eyeliner. Not in three days. Yeah, I know, it was a surprise to me too.
Saturday, October 1, 2016
Looking back to move forward.
Why are you still looking back, you're not goingoing in that direction? It's still a statment the that I whole heartedly believe in. Wallowing in the past is often detrimental to ones personal growth. Still there are times when you must examine email the past if you are to deal with it and then move forward. It's rule number 45: clean up your own mess.
When your mind is ready to deal with the hard shit, the hard shit has a bad way of smacking you in the face. It's the mind's way of saying, "I know you can handle this now, so we're gonna pull it all out and look at it. You are going to feel like that little kid back when it all started. Yet grabbing that little kid by the hand, and saying "we got you!" It's the beginning of pulling that often confused and scared kid out of the past and bring her into the present with you. Whoever was supposed to help you throught it when it occured might have failed at their job, you however will not. In cleaning up your own mess, you've the opportunity to save yourself.
Friends and yes even families are not always what we want them to be. Some people just can't deal with the hard shit, so they take the easy way out. Sometimes their judgement is more about them and how they handled the situation than it is about you. It usually means they aren't in a place where they can deal with. Maybe they never will be, but that is theirs to deal with. Focus on that little kid. Remind him or her that the past is just that, it can hurt but only if you allow it to. You have the power to pull out those memories and emotions and review them like pictures of the past. Examine them, poke them, but also realize that you can learn a great deal from this self explanatory experience! You are worth the effort, time, and growth development. I'm sure you will do just fine by that once lost kid.
When your mind is ready to deal with the hard shit, the hard shit has a bad way of smacking you in the face. It's the mind's way of saying, "I know you can handle this now, so we're gonna pull it all out and look at it. You are going to feel like that little kid back when it all started. Yet grabbing that little kid by the hand, and saying "we got you!" It's the beginning of pulling that often confused and scared kid out of the past and bring her into the present with you. Whoever was supposed to help you throught it when it occured might have failed at their job, you however will not. In cleaning up your own mess, you've the opportunity to save yourself.
Friends and yes even families are not always what we want them to be. Some people just can't deal with the hard shit, so they take the easy way out. Sometimes their judgement is more about them and how they handled the situation than it is about you. It usually means they aren't in a place where they can deal with. Maybe they never will be, but that is theirs to deal with. Focus on that little kid. Remind him or her that the past is just that, it can hurt but only if you allow it to. You have the power to pull out those memories and emotions and review them like pictures of the past. Examine them, poke them, but also realize that you can learn a great deal from this self explanatory experience! You are worth the effort, time, and growth development. I'm sure you will do just fine by that once lost kid.
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