I wonder what it’s like to be a superhero. I wonder where I’d go if I could fly around downtown, yeah. From some other planet, I’d get this funky high on the yellow sun. Boy, I bet my friends will all be stunned.
Straight up, what did you hope to learn about here? If I was someone else, would this all fall apart? Strange, where were you when we started this gig? I wish the real world would just stop hasslin’ me.
I’ve been listenin’ to ya now for a quarter of a century and think you’re the effing bomb-diggity! Who’da thunk that the “me” from way back then would have turned you into one of my favorite self-love songs? Meanwhile …
Dear Me,
Umm, HELLO? Have you met you? You kinda really are a superhero. I mean, you kinda saved yourself, did you not? And while you may not be able to reallyfly around downtown, much less would you even want to, you’re definitely not from this planet, and you and our girl, The Sun, are always on a funky high.
As for you’re friends? Some of them are stunned, some of them are STUMPED, some of them think you’re insanity on a stick, and some of them secretly hate you. It’s all good, though!
Straight up, you already do know what you learned about here … that if you were someone else but YOU, this very real world we’ve built would fall the fuck apart, so, let’s not go back to Fakeville.
(ps)
Don’t you DARE ever forget where were you when we started this gig … two spins of a barrel from being DEAD!
In the meantime, let’s just enjoy when the “real world” tries to hassle us … ’cause the last time I checked, if what we’re doing is aggravating the ever-lovin’ HELL out of anyone, then we’re doing it JUST right! Mmmkay? Mmmkay! Straight up!
… but did you KNOW that those four letters used to actually make me cry?
Yet, here I am now!
I’m an out loud and PROUD verified FREAK of the fucking world! I wouldn’t wanna be ANYONE else, and NOW those four letters make me cry tears of JOY! “Someone” evidently thought that I was special enough to be a walking, talking contradiction, an oxymoron of the most epic proportion, and a “less than 3%-er” with no chance in HELL of ever NOT standing out from the other 97% of humanity?
Yes, I AM “one of God’s own high powered prototypes”, and I wouldn’t have me any other way. If I have to regret anything from my past (and trust me, I really don’t regret much), it’s that I spent so many years being ashamed of all my “labels” (the good, the bad, AND the ugly). These days? They’re like – my favorite tattoos of all – cryptic, elusive and invisible! YOU can’t see them, but trust me, THEY’RE THERE, and only the BEST of the BEST people this beautiful life has to offer me will ever get to!
With all that being said, and in honor of this spot-on YouTube video published three years ago this day by Akta, an INFJ sister from another country who I’ve never met, yet has described the inner workings of my intrinsically beautifully mind as though she were speaking through my own lips, WELCOME TO A DAY IN THE LIFE OF ASTATINE:
No man is more unhappy than he who never faces adversity. For he is not permitted to prove himself.
~ Seneca ~
⚔️
Adversity
Challenge
Abrasion
Grating
Rasping
Grating
Chafing
Resistance
Pressure
FRICTION
⚔️
Guess what has to happen in order for you to grow, people? FRICTION! No matter what you call all the little cluster fucks that happen in your life, they are happening to make you stronger, better fortified, and more resilient! With that, and since I was originally going to date this post for “the day” between “National Diamond Day” and “National Sword Day”, but couldn’t find find a date for either, here I am ROCKING this on “National JEWEL Day” today, instead! Lol. Didja catch that? “Rock”! Yes, that pun was intended!
Meanwhile, let’s take a minute to think about all the shit that’s gone wrong for you. Chances are you either learned, changed, fixed, developed, or maybe even LOST something that’s given you an entire new perspective, set of skills, and better yet … APPRECIATION for what you DO have as a result.
It’s we been statistically proven since the dawn of mankind that those who’ve endured extreme amounts of friction in their life are happier, more fulfilled, and at peace. I mean, HELLO? Have you MET me? I’m a 100 carat, D-Flawless diamond of epic proportion with light literally SCREAMING through every facet etched into my soul while I was CARBON being crystallized by pressure, heat, and FRICTION!
Being a piece of coal subjected to unfathomable pressure and temperatures for upwards of 3 billion years is hard, but not becoming the diamond you were intended to become, is an actual living tragedy. DO THE HARD STUFF MY FRIENDS, because sometimes the easy way out can actually cost you EVERYTHING! Hmm. Now that I think of it, maybe this is why I’ve always been FASCINATED by diamonds. They’re tactile proof that behind most every beautiful thing were unspeakable amounts of pain, pressure, and toil. As it turns out, I was a fuckin’ 5 carat, D-color, FLAWLESS and PRICELESS solitaire all along, it just took me a long HOT minute to figure it out!
Lol. Why do you think I love my diamonds so much? (HINT: It’s NOT because I’m trying to flaunt my wealth!) I have adored them since I was just a little girl with no idea of their value, literally or metaphorically, and been wearing the ever loving SHINE out of them even when I was sleeping on a pull out in a one bedroom with my Frog Prince of a husband who eventually had me dripping in them.
Oh, yah! That picture there at left? No, that’s not my diamond, but it is a picture of a ring I’d found in a magazine ad once upon a time when the king and I were waiting in a doctor’s office. It wasn’t until years later, the day after he was gone, that I found it while going through his wallet. It was taped it to the back of his Social Security card as a reference until the day would eventually came when he could have one just like it made for me and slap it on my finger. BAM! “My Big Mac!” Yes, I’m proud of it, and nope, I’ll never stop wearing it until the day Gia’s future husband comes calling for her hand and it passes to her in legacy.
Whenever I see a diamond, be it “dust sized” or the nearly flawless one he frosted me with that I’ll never stop wearing (even when I’m in public in my dumpster dive clothes and plastic crowns) I see MYSELF: Power and grace in risen “shine” built from one of the most resilient substances on this Earth: FRICTION!
PEOPLE are people, so, why should it be you and I should get along so awfully?
Forty years ago today, unbeknownst to me despite the hundreds of times I’ve since listened to it in my lifetime, the answer to this age-old query was answered in an epic song that was released worldwide.
Umm, so, perhaps the reason we people sometimes have an awful time getting along with other people is because the people they’re attempting to get along with aren’t even “PEOPLE” at all? Long story short:
And so, with that, always remember that if and when you do get into a tangle with a snake, although they can shed their skin, they can never shed their nature. Likewise, although a person can lie about what and who they really are, the patterns in their lives never lie and will always reveal their nature! Just thought I’d share!
In the beginning, God made the land. Then He made the waters and creatures … then He made man. He was born with a passion … love and hate. A restless spirit with a need for a mate. But there was something missing … something lost. So, He came up with the answer. Here’s what it cost: One part love; one part wild; one part lady; one part child. A whole lot of fire; a little bit of ice; a whole lot of something you can’t sacrifice. I give you …
“WOMAN“
Did you know that in many parts of the world, today is recognized as “International Women’s Day“? Indeed, it is the global day to celebrate the social, economic, cultural and political achievements of women. As an American woman and capitalist who is not a fan of either socialism, feminism, or Rosie The Riveter, but is a fan of the solidarity and sanctity and of “The Hood“, I choose to celebrate “woman” for a much more powerful reason than modern women’s ability to pick up a hammer, try to grow their own dicks and balls and conquer “the patriarchy” and man in general. A social media influencer that I’ve been following for a while recently said:
Listen, there is nothing in my world that I have ever experienced that is more profound than the Power, purpose, and joy of watching my wife carry our children and then give birth. As a man, I have no idea what she is feeling. As a man, I have no idea what she is going through. As a man, I have no idea what pressure, stress, pain, and process she is going through. But I do know this is GOD’s most incredible creation.
Love him or hate him (and many people do, as is the plight of many the truth sayer according to Plato), the man is a beast of epic proportion and I couldn’t agree with him more. More so than that, what a beautiful tribute to not just his own wife, but the power of “woman”!
Meanwhile, as far as I’m concerned, perhaps the best thing about the sisterhood of REAL women (or rather should I say “WOMBen”, because without a womb at birth, you ain’t one) is our innate ability to be given anything and multiply it. If you give us your time, we can give you our hearts. If you give us a house, we can give you a home. If you give us the ingredients, we can give you a meal. If you give us your sperm, we can give you a family. If you give us love, honor, loyalty, and respect, we can give you an entire lifetime of unwavering support, partnership, a crown, and a throne from which we can build a kingdom TOGETHER.
We are the most sacred vessels, alchemists, sorcerers, and forces of unrivaled nature that there ever was or ever will be, other than God Himself, which is why I believe He partnered with and empowered us with not just our wombs, but the ability to endure and then rise above unspeakable amounts of physical and emotional pain and suffering for the sake of those whom we ingratiate as the female expression and reflection of His profound and inexplicable creativity and love:
The sobering truth is that it’s the woman’s hand that was meant to rock the cradle, not destroy it! We’re the Earth, the Sun, the Moon, the stars and the entire effing COSMOS to the babies we bear. Even wild animals know this to be true and often do much better jobs of raising their offspring than some of those “things” running around this gig with wombs.Does a good, strong, emotionally wealthy and present father bear any value in raising a child? OF COURSE! Do ya think I’m effing stupid? But you see, “mother love” is the fuel that supplies this world with the most valuable energy of all. As that supply steadily dwindles, humanity is fucking FAILING!Mama” is the only one who can make a human being, so “mama” is the one who wields the most power to fucking shatter a human being irreparably. For every toxic devil of a man roaming this planet and giving “some men” a really bad wrap, chances are that you can trace his fucked up ways back to the hands of the worthless “mama” who either did or did not rock his cradle. Sorry, NOT sorry. It’s the Jean-Claude Van DAMN cold hard truth, and I don’t care what anyone has to say about it.
I guess what I’m REALLY trying to say, here, “ladies”, is perhaps some of you actual ‘lil hookers out there should think about using that “power of your pussies” to do something a little more MAGICAL than just running around fucking literally everything in sight and screwing up huMANity? Spread those legs for the good of all mankind and leave behind a “legacy”, not a “LEGS-in-the-air-DISEASE”! We are epic magic of divine design and the living reflection of HIS femininity, so, why would you want to be anything else? Dare I say that any words, deeds, or “things” THAT (not “who”) negate, make mockery, or spit upon the utmost and highest calling of “woman” are, perhaps, the greatest of all the Devil’s lies.
The late Steve Jobs, whose birthday is today, really did say it best! Why be in the Navy when you can be a pirate? Umm? HELLO? Ya think? Be a pirate! Be a Viking! Be an adventurer! Be ALONE but DON’T be lonely!
But guess what, my little swashbuckling marauders? YA GOTTA CUT THAT ANCHOR THAT’S BEEN KEEPING YOU WEIGHED DOWN, FIRST! FUCK all those norms, traditions, and idyllic ways of EXISTING! FUCK living YOUR life inside the pretty little box you have to SHRINK yourself to fit in so that YOUR life makes everyone else’s more comfortable!
Now, does that mean you should be an asshole or on an upcoming episode of Dateline NBC? Umm, NOPE! It just means you should go and be the BIG, awkward, funny, intelligent, beautiful enigma that you are! DON’T hold back! WEIRD IT OUT! Release yourself from the prison YOU keep yourself held hostage in for the sake of everyone else! And oh yah … just be HAPPY!
STRANGER IN A STRANGE LAND
Living on this lonely street … a stranger in this town. Feel it in this cold concrete whenever I’m around. On the outside looking in … it’s a mystery. When I’m out there in the wind, I know I’m feeling free! I know I’m a stranger in a strange land. Just a stranger … I’m a solitary man. All alone I stand … about … just a stranger in a strange land. Seems I’m spending half my life saying long goodbyes. On the edges of a knife, I leave it all behind. In another place and time I’ll find where I belong, but until that day arrives, I guess I’ll be moving on. {Eddie Money}
On this day back in 2008, Seether released this most powerful song about struggle, resilience, and self-empowerment in the face of hardship in the aftermath of their front man who wrote it, Shaun Morgan, losing his brother to suicide in August of 2007. For me, it’s a relatable and endearing reminder of how some people choose to rise above dismal and tragic circumstances with hope and optimism.
The ability to safeguard, rise above, and master both ourselves AND our “feelings” lies within that glorious sentient power available to us humans known as AUTONOMY. With it, we are afforded the ability to choose where we begin and others end:
No one can make you feel inferior without your consent.
THAT’S WHAT SHE SAID! Eleanor Roosevelt, that is, and I concur! Likewise can nothing harm us unless we decide to allow it to make us feel harmed. I know! I know! Sometimes that’s easier to preach than practice. I mean, HELLO? Have you HEARD some of my rants and taken note of how poorly I’ve often gambled with my own power and grace? Many are the times that some jackass won the keys to the six inches of QUEENDOM real estate between my ears, such that dear ole “Uncle Marcus”, as well my many other ancestors and late husband must SURELY have been screaming at me from that BSOG base camp in the sky:
Umm? Cat? I love ya, kid … I DO … but you DO realize, don’t you, that you COULD have just chosen NOT to be harmed, right?
Lol. It’s all good, though, ’cause through it all, I’ve ended up swallowing a heaping spoonful or two of my own stoic medicine, taken back my power, learned a ‘lil something about myself and where I need to keep focusing my soul work, then forgiven and just moved on!
I guess what I’m trying to say is that it takes an immense amount of self love, respect, and control, as well as a lifetime of sculpting and chiseling to reveal the hidden splendor that lies within our human clay. JUST KEEP CARVING! You’ll get there, my friend, and so will I. In the meantime, whenever you’re feeling lost or in doubt, just call upon The Master, Himself:
Take the light and darken everything around me. Call the clowns and listen closely … I’m lost without You. Call Your name every day when I feel so helpless. I’ve fallen down,but I’ll rise above this! Rise above this! Hate the mind … regrets are better left unspoken! For all we know, this void will grow and everything’s in vain, distressing You, though it leaves me open. Feels so right … but I’ll end this all before it gets me! Call Your name every day when I feel so helpless. I’ve fallen down, but I’ll rise above this! Rise above this! Call Your name every day when I seem so helpless. I’ve fallen down, but I’ll rise above this … rise above this doubt. I’ll mend myself before it gets me. Call Your name every day when I feel so helpless. I’ve fallen down, but I’ll rise above this! 48 ways to say that I’m feeling helpless … I’m falling down, but I’ll rise above this … rise above this doubt!
… because it’s 7:15pm here in Dallas and I just KNOW in my heart and soul that someone out there in this world really needs to hear this message. Keep the faith, kiddo! YOU GOT THIS!
So, tell me, friend. WHO’S YOUR PERSON? As for me, I can honestly say that other than mykids and my ailing German Shepherd who’s just about to cross the bridge, my “person” is ME. Just me. Guess what, though? THAT’S OKAY! I mean, don’t get me wrong, folks – I very much DO have a handful of EPIC ride or die “I got your clockers” in this life, some of whom I’ve never even met, but those women all have lives and families of their own, so, logistically speaking, I’m on my own here.
The most terrible loneliness is not the kind that comes from being alone, but from being misunderstood. It is the loneliness of standing in a crowded room, surrounded by people who do not see you, who do not hear you, who do not know the true essence of who you are.
No matter how far you travel, you can never get away from yourself.
Both these quotes make me sad for anyone who hasn’t yet learned to “see, hear, and understand” themselves such that they are never alone in a crowded room, and even sadder for those who feel the need to “get away from themselves”.
Have I ever told you that I sing love songs to myself? Like, as in I literally SING to myself … every day! It’s called “That Music Thing” and it’s one of the most valuable mental wealth hacks I’ve ever empowered myself with. One of my all time favorite “songs of myself” is one that Zack used to sing me all the time, “When The Seasons Change” by 5FDP. The powerful lyrics are the one food (for my soul) that I’m actually proudto be addicted to:
When the seasons change and we’re in for colder weather I won’t let you down when the seasons change. I won’t go down. I’ll fight through the pain. I’ll be there right by your side. I’ll never let them bring you down when the seasons change.
Da FUCK? I mean, HELLO? Hasn’t ‘lil Tay Tay either touched down or been engaged to at leasta dozen of them? And by “them”, I mean MEN whose behaviors and gaslighting she’s had to silently absorb? Meanwhile, she has no problem whatsoever not so silently absorbing that $800 per ticket from the MEN who’ve shelled out them Benji’s for their wives and daughters to take their ‘lil pink Stanley cups and Lulu Lemon “look at my ass” pants to her shit shows, right? Which is NOT to say that many a self-sufficient women hasn’t funded her own ticket to the parties, too.
But I’ve digressed …
Guess what rage provokes me, “America’s MEATheart”, especially as the mother of a SON and the late wife of a KING who earned every bit of the pedestal he sat upon every single day he walked this Earth along with quitea few damn good men I’ve been lucky enough to love, honor, respect? Well, I’ll tell ya …
“Anything men can do, WE can do better!”
Really? Well, then SUCK IT UP Rosie The Riveter, come down from your sanctimony and shove that fuckin’ hammer that destroyed “the heart of the home” as the world once knew it right up your “I AM WOMAN! HEAR ME ROAR!” ass, ’cause with that train of thought …
“Anything MEN can fuck up, WE can fuck up BETTER!”
Hey, ladies? Sometimes when you’re dealing with a “devil of a man”, the best thing to do is take a good look in the mirror. Have you ever stopped to consider that maybe YOU’RE the one manifesting that devil out of him? Ya get what ya give, know what I’m sayin’? And by the way, don’t forget where we came from: THEIR RIB!
I thank GOD for the truly good men in this world. I respect them, value them, worry for them, and PRAY FOR THEM! I cherish and HONOR men as the strong towers they were intended to be. You see, I am a woman who’s been lucky enough to have been loved by not one, but TWO of the most beautiful KINGS who ever walked this Earth (make that three if you count my son), and often thank God that I wasn’t actually BORN a man. From the moment they draw their first breath, they’re expected to bear the literal weight of the world on their shoulders, and “stay at home trophy husband” USUALLY ain’t an option for them. It’s a brutal reality that so many women take for granted.
If you are a man-hating biotch, YOU are not my people! Actually? You’re gross and the majority of what’s wrong with this world we’re ALL fucking up. So, take your “toxic masculinity” double standards of BULLSHIT back home to your family, cook some fuckin’ chicken for the man in your life if you’re lucky enough to have one, and get the HELL out of my Diary PRONTO!
Okay, I feel better now. Damn! I feel like I just had an exorcism! Now I can get ready for the Stuperbowl this afternoon, which in case you haven’t gotten the memo about yet, I only ever watch for “the pants“. Lol, I don’t even like football, and this despite the fact that my next door neighbor is one of the top ten highest paid NFL quarterbacks in history. I couldn’t give two shits less about that by the way, and (ps), my car is faster than his. Wait! WHAT? To me, he’s not a baller, though. He’s just my next door neighbor who’s a pretty decent MAN.
But I’ve digressed again …
For the record, if I see that cringeworthy hypocrite of a 34 year old woman “secret handshaking and hip bumping” another grown ass woman in the stands again, I’m telling ya I’m gonna lose it! Bye everyone, it’s me, CAT!
You know, honey, you do that, too … the crying in your chair in private thing! Did you think I didn’t know that’s what you do when you run back into our room? You let yourself fall apart so you can keep it all together for us. It’s one of my favorite things about you.’
… after all these years, I’ve finally got it right. I’ve learned to give myself full permission to just sit still and hold space for myself whenever I need to let it go. My “panic chair” is THE safest place to do it.
Actually? After I wrap up this Diary entry, imma go and pour myself a giant bowl of Lucky Charms and eat them IN MY CHAIR! Lol! Believe it or not, this silly piece of furniture is one of the most beautifully static parts of my epically messy life. I deeply love, cherish, and will always hold space for her as part of the magnificent tapestry I’m being woven from.
Hey, God? Thank You. No, really. THANK YOU! And hey, to my babies?
This lightning’s gonna strike right through those hearts of yours again, ’cause this rain ain’t gonna stop, and you’ll feel every drop as they keep on dancing on your heads. But you gotta hold on … you gotta be strong … right here with me if it all goes wrong to keep you from harm … away in my arms … steer you away from the storm! When The Sun won’t come around and your world keeps washing out, I won’t let this love fall down. I’ll carry you. So, let’s run toward waiting lights, ’cause I know there’s better skies ahead. Sands through an hourglass … your floods are gonna pass … and we’ll still be standing, hand in hand!
First of all, and just to be clear, folks … NO! I am so not a runner! Honestly? The mere thought of a marathon of any sort whatsoever makes me sadder than those homeless animal commercials and also kinda makes me want to puke in my own mouth. Lol. Meanwhile, I stumbled across this news footage on social media today and just had to share it:
Back in 2017, 18 year old Ariana Luterman was propelled into the spotlight after a split second decision she made while competing in the BMW Dallas Marathon. When race leader Chandler Self collapsed on the final straight, Ariana stopped to help her fellow competitor finish. Her selfless actions rapidly made news around the world. Now aged 21 and in the midst of studying at university, we caught up with her to hear the full rundown on how events unfolded on the day and the ‘completely insane’ media frenzy that followed.
Really? Exactly how many SENIORS in high school would do something so selfless? I immediately found her on Instagram and commented under one of her posts:
Dear Ariana:I just saw the footage of you helping the doctor whose legs gave out make it to the finish line. Well done, my beautiful friend that I don’t know. Well done. Here’s to you breaking that record, and (ps), GOD SAW THAT! I actually got tears in my eyes watching it. As a widowed mom of two who has GOTTEN to learn the very hard way about what things REALLY matter in this life and what things REALLY don’t, I am so proud of you for putting that kind of love and energy into this atmosphere. I don’t know anything about you or your own parents, but it seems to me that someone did an incredible job raising a person like you. Okay, that’s enough now. I am NOT a “runner” at all, but I’m going to be following your journey now and praying for you!
… and for the record to any of the future fruits from this EPIC family tree who are reading this virtual love letter right now, i.e., to my grandbabies, their grandbabies, and maybe even their grandbabies: THIS is how we roll and it’s “Crazy Grandma Cat” APPROVED! (By the way, even though I may or may not ever get a chance to meet a single one of you in person, please know that I love you, I’m always with you, and if you ever feel a warm breeze brush past your cheek from out of the clear blue (or grey) sky, THAT WOULD BE ME!
… that moment you click on what you thought was just a cute ‘lil social media video about Legos, only to find yourself tearing up a little, having a profound existential and spiritual intersection with both yourself, your God, and The Cosmos, then downloading said video into your virtual Diary so that one day “hopefully” your grandbabies will find it. Besides … what better day to post this here, anyway, than on “National Lego Day 2024“, right?
In the land of Gods and Monsters, I was an angel living in the garden of evil … screwed up … scared … doing anything that I needed … shining like a fiery beacon.
In a garden chock FULL of wannabe gods and real life monsters wearing human skin to mask the spawned evil demons they really are while they’re running around this bitch fucking things up for “huMANity“, I’m so glad I’ve stumbled upon so many actual beasts shining in all this darkness with fiery beacons who know when to be serious, when to scream and yell the truth, but also how to laugh at all the rest of the twisted ass bullshit floating through the atmosphere.
Although he had, indeed, already been listening to and LOVED you with Bad Wolves (Zombie was one of his favorite songs EVER), if only my husband could have survived HIS own darkness long enough to have gotten to know who you really are … well? He’d have loved the ever lovin’ shit out of you!
Thanks for the perfect comedic timing this morning, by the way! Like, as in I almost LITERALLY spit my coffee out laughing.
All that I’m after is a life full of laughter, as long as I’m laughing with you.
(Daughtry)
Well, ever since my king chose to abdicate his throne and I’ve had to learn to navigate a life full of laughter without him, the one quality I’ve found most endearing in people is their ability to find the laughter in as many moments as possible. For me, it’s what makes what can otherwise feel like hell on Earth a little more tolerable.
Much love to you, T! You’re a prince among men, my friend, and I dig the ya!
… and from that day on, not only did she know for certain that Heaven really could hear the many unspoken words and silent screams that were trapped inside both halves of their twin-flame souls infinitely, but that some cryptic tales really aren’t that cryptic after all:
Dear Moon,
I will run alone tonight without you by my side. I guess you had a place you had to get to. I knew your eyes. I knew inside the walls you hid behind. I saw the truth inside the real you. I know you were lost when you ran away to that last black hole and the black mistake. It’s taking all my will just to run alone. You’re not coming home.
Even though the sky did fall … even though she took it all … there’s no pain you’d have not gone through … even if you had to die for us.Then when all the fires were burned … and everything was overturned … there’s no thing you’d have not gone through … even if you had to die for us.
One day the Earth will open wide and I’ll follow you inside, ’cause the only hell I’ve known’s without you. Someday when galaxies collide, we’ll be lost on different skies, but I’ll send my rocket ship to find you.
Though the Sun grew cold for you along the way and the stars didn’t align to light our way … and though you fell away and crashed back down below … I’ll always search the skies for you and I’ll follow. I’ll be in your afterglow until I go back Home.
I love you and I miss you, and even though I’m not REALLY lost without you, I’m really AM lost HERE without you.
He’s tired. So, now I just keep telling him to let me know when he’s ready, assuring him that it’s okay to go, and begging him not to worry about me if that’s what’s keeping him lingering here between his worn out body and that beautiful Rainbow Bridge where I knowhis dad is waiting for him all “squatted down” with those big wide open arms and his favorite stuffed Lamby and cookies.
I’m so thankful for this life Zack left behind for us that has me in the extremely fortunate position of being able to stay hands on and fully attentive to ALL my babies’ lives. Not every widow is so lucky. Because of this, I’m able to just sit quietly and peacefully with Lord Williamson pretty much around the clock, focus on keeping him comfortable, tending to his every whim, and enjoying every second with him until it’s time. Sadly, not even every HUMAN who’s waiting to make that leap to The Brighter Side Of Grey is so lucky and they literally die all alone.
In the meantime …
Dear Walter,
You’ve made sure I always saw the daylight during this last 1,609 days since Daddy left us. It’s okay to let go, I promise. I’ll make sure I’ll always BE the daylight!
Dear God,
Grant me the serenity to accept the things that I can’t change and the wisdom to know the difference. Living one day at a time, enjoying one moment at a time … accepting hardship as a pathway to peace … taking, as Jesus did, this sinful world as it is, not as I would have it … trusting that You will make all things right if I surrender to Your will … so that I may be reasonably happy in this life and supremely happy with You forever in the next.
… what it looks like when a storm, rainbow and sunset collide in the Grand Canyon. The Grand Canyon provides a unique setting for the formation of rainbows due to its immense size and the presence of water particles in the air. When rain showers pass through the canyon, the sunlight interacts with the water droplets, resulting in the creation of stunning rainbows.
No, kiddo. This picture is a reflection of you AND Me! Remember: You are everything because you are nothing, and no one can become “EVERYTHING and ALL OF IT” unless they first become “NOTHING at all”. It’s the one great paradox in what you often only THINK is your meaningless existence, when in reality, your existence is profound and truly magnificent. (ps) I love you. You’re my favorite.
Venom made his first appearance in 1984 as a new Spider-Man suit the “Secret Wars” storyline when Spider-Man came into possession of a mysterious new black suit that gave him extra powers, which suit is later revealed to be a malevolent alien symbiote that attached itself to Peter Parker. Although Peter soon rid himself of the suit because of its inherently evil nature and propensity to channel an inner darkness inside himself that he doesn’t want to channel, the symbiote ended up bonding with Eddie Brock, a reporter with a serious grudge against Spider-Man. Eddie Brock and the black suit then became symbiotically bonded as Venom. So then, no, Venom is not Spider-Man.
Long story short? I don’t think anyone really knows how fucking CRUEL the world can be until you’ve had to grow up and protect your children from your own “family”. If you are one of us who is fighting desperately to change your family’s legacy, I’m truly sorry that you’re having a spend your adulthood fixing things you didn’t break so that your children can have a better future. “The battle that lies within you” is not for the faint of heart, and I FEEL YOU! Stay strong. Keep the faith. RISE ABOVE! Oh, and by the way, “malignant parent” that is reading this right now, always remember that how your kids treat you when they no longer need you is a direct reflection of how you treated them when they needed you to survive.
As for me? I’ve since learned that the best way to end an infectious relationship “disease” is to just let it fuckin’ STARVE! No contact! No responses! No reactions! No NOTHING! Just stop feeding the slimy thing, ’cause the energy you put into it is where its power lies. K, bye!
Enough said on this subject that no one really wants to talk about. Oh, with the exception of this bittersweet life nugget that I had to learn the very hard way at the life and death of my angel daughter, Gina Marie, exactly twenty years ago this day:
Next, there was the little one who passed go but never collected the $200 before her tiny little feet hit the board. She was both the greatest gift and greatest tragedy of my life, wrapped softly in a yellow blanket and sent straight back Home in angel’s wings. Still, even with an often daily struggle with the hole in my heart that belongs to her, I must admit that there have been days that I’ve thanked God that He took her out of here before the pain and struggle of simply “existing” became her any longer than the few short hours she spent here.
Let’s be honest all you parents out there in this bullshit club of having to outlive and bury child: Have any of you ever felt a little guilty about bringing them into “all of this” in the first place? Indeed, I have, and will continue to bear this double-edged sword of parenthood with as much “power and grace” as I can keep on mustering. Even on my best days in the hood, though, the burden of carrying the weight that an often sick and depraved “humanity” heaps upon our shoulders is all but impossible.
For the record, whether you’re a parent or not, if you never made it to see The Sound Of Freedom, I cannot urge you strongly enough to find a way to see it. I Jean-Claude Van DAMN promise that you’ll never be able to look at either an 18-wheeler rolling down the highway or a coastal shipyard loaded with “empty” cargo boxes the same again. Granted, it’s uncomfortable subject matter, disturbing nonetheless, but a MUST SEE for the sake of opening your eyes, ears, hearts, and awareness to what I believe is the most abominable travesty on this planet.
As for me and how I’m choosing to acknowledge both this “National Human Trafficking Awareness Day” and what would have been my tiniest angel’s 20th birthday had Destiny not much better plans for her, I’ll remain as steel a magnolia I can, all the while praying and crying on my knees for all those babies locked inside darkened rooms, even as I’m writing this, and begging GOD that those demons masked as “humans” will meet their final judgment day with as much hell, fire, and damnation as they wreaked on His children.
Most of you won’t recognize this man, but I’d like to take a minute to tell you about him. He’s Steve Clark, the late guitarist for one of many of our favorite bands, Def Leppard, who died on this day back in 1991 due to an unintentional overdose of Valium, Codeine, and alcohol. Although his death wasn’t ruled a suicide:
At the time of his death, Clark was on a leave of absence from Def Leppard. “We’d given him six months off,” recalled Joe Elliott, “told him to go and spend some time in the beautiful house he’d bought in Chelsea, eat some food he’d cooked himself, and take his clothes out of the suitcase and put them in the wardrobe. But instead he spent most of his time in the pub round the corner, and do things like get so drunk he’d fall down the stairs and crack his rib. So he’d be on serious medication for cracked ribs. Then he’d carry on drinking.”[14] Weeks prior to his death, Clark had registered a blood alcohol level of 0.59%.[15] On 8 January 1991, Clark was found dead on his couch by his girlfriend.[4] He was 30 years old. The postmortem revealed that the cause of death was respiratory failure caused by a lethal mixture of alcohol and prescription drugs. At the time of his death, Clark had a blood alcohol level of .30% and morphine in his system.[4] Daniel Van Alphen, Clark’s drinking companion the night before, testified that they went to a local pub and returned to Clark’s home at midnight to watch a video.
So, why am I writing about some dead rock star’s death 33 years later?
BECAUSE IT’S IMPORTANT!
While even the best of us Leppard fans will ever really understand the full context behind these powerful lyrics, I’m apt to believe that Joe and Phil weren’t just expressing their feelings of losing their beloved friend and bandmate, but more so sending out a message to anyone who’s either been on a “wide-eyed suicide drive” or battled with an addiction dragon to carefully consider the err in their often deadly ways:
… as if you’d ever go and make that same mistake.
“Blood running cold” is, indeed, what I physically feel in my bones every time I hear the lonely, somber chords at the intro, then immediately flash to what it must have been like for my husband in the front seat of his car that night … Springfield in hand … “screaming out in pain” in not just that moment, but the years, months, and hours before he pulled that trigger. Although the imagery is all but unbearable, I belive it’s a necessary evil for those who’ve either survived a Molotov cocktail of darkness, depression, or addiction, or, like me, been left to walk through the aftermath of losing someone to such a tragic truth. For me, it serves as poignant reminder to neither let the night come crawlin’ back my way again or let my halo fall when it starts to slip, because LIVING really IS the best revenge I can play to anyone who’s ever hurt me.
FUCK that … and FUCK them!
To anyone reading this who is now or has ever considered engaging in either active or passive suicidality, please know that losing you in this way will inflict unspeakable amounts of pain on those you leave behind. Live! Just LIVE, damnit! LIVE! It really isthe best revenge you can play to anyone or anything that’s ever hurt or broken you to the point of what could be your own demise, I promise. While I personally know that “trying to save yourself” isn’t always that easy, you deserve much better than anything less than blood that runs warm.
BLOOD RUNS COLD
I heard this line one time ’bout tryin’ to save the world, but have you ever tried to save yourself? A wide-eyed suicide drive remains a fake. As if you’d ever … ever go and make the same mistake. Strung out as the night comes crawlin’ … your halo of thorns is fallin’. Blood runs cold … I feel it in my bones … but you don’t know your time is up. Blood runs cold. Somebody somewhere is screamin’ out the words, but do they ever really ease the pain? I guess what I’m trying to say is whose life is it anyway, because livin’ … living is the best revenge you can play. This fall from grace … I see your face … It’s over. From you, love was kind … resolved, left scarred and blind … wasted and naked in the wings. Denying twist of fate … demanding Heaven’s gate … lying in wait above the wind. {Def Leppard}
Whoever you are, or whatever it is that you do, when you REALLY want something, it’s because that desire originated in the soul of The Universe. It’s your mission on Earth.
Now I have children of my own. They ask their mother, what will I be? Will I be handsome? Will I be rich? I tell them tenderly … Qué será, será. Whatever will be, will be. The future’s not ours to see.
Some people when they hear a groove shake their head, ’cause they just can’t approve. Well, I turn up the music ’til it’s shakin the sky! There’s nights you wanna yell for help, but you can’t fly when you’re standing still!THERE’S NOTHING WRONG WITH RAISING SOME HELL!
{Kenny Loggins w/ Steve Perry}
Are you getting my drift here, people? There is nothing, and I mean NOTHING you can do to avoid your destiny. It was written in the stars EONS before your mommy met your daddy, and the blueprints for your journey were drawn and discussed in rooms you’ll never know about by powers that are above our mortal comprehension and pay grade:
If I’ve learned anything by now, it’s that the only semblance of “order” I can count on is … OH, that’s right … there isn’t one! So, I just let all the pieces show up in their perfect timing and let them fall in place.
By the way, HAPPY BIRTHDAY, Kenny Loggins! Not only have I been rocking to your music for years, but you also share a birthday with one of my favorite “raise some hell while you’re fighting it” music alchemists of all, Ivan Moody! Gotta love it!
“Hi guys, just checking on you and hoping all is well. Also reminding you that today would be my mom’s birthday. Please say a prayer for her. I love you all.”
ME:
“Mom, I’ve been thinking about her LITERALLY all day, am wearing her black zip up jacket, am wrapped up in her blue blanket, and have the little flower basket I got from the funeral and added “MARY” in Scrabble letters to on my desk as I’m working all day.”
MOM:
“I’m glad you remembered Grandma. She was an awesome, creative and very smart woman. I called her my little “whipper snapper” or Eveready battery because nothing could keep her down. Nothing!”
Yes, you really were a little whipper snapper, which is probably where I got it, and yes, you really were an Eveready battery whom NOTHING could ever keep down! It’s probably no coincidence that as I’m going through the process of straightening my crown again by reminding myself who I am and where I came from, that YOU showed managed to show up like the whipper snapper you were to help me reset my battery. Happy Heavenly 100th, beautiful! I LOVE YOU ALWAYS FOREVER!
This is an EXTREMELY powerful message and I hope to GOD it wakes some people up ASAP! It’s the same exact shit I’ve been screaming from the top of my VERY lonely mountain for years (because most women think I’m a misogynist with my “ass backwards” views on “roles” in marriage). Nope, I’m NOT a misogynist, BTW. I’m an ecumenical abuser who sees BOTH sides of this effed up like a country duck huMANity coin. Lol. I’m was actually in tears listening to you, Garrett, and feel like I just got out of a sermon where the pastor bitch slapped his people with hell, fire, brimstone, and TRUTH, which we all know most people can’t effing handle anymore. This was brutal but NECESSARY! I’m messaging you something I wrote a couple of year ago about this. I hope you’ll read it. Much love, Garrett … and for Danielle, too.
… and to whoever needs to hear this right now (and by hear it, I mean “hear it” like I’m screaming at you):
… and by the way, don’t forget where we came from: THEIR RIB! I’m an ecumenical abuser! What’s good for the gander IS good for the goose, so let’s all stop deflecting and pointing the finger at the other gender and stay focused on doing better jobs managing our own business, “roles”, and the expectations. The last time I checked, most people don’t even know what the fuck they want or need from the opposite sex, and God FORBID a man tries to tell a woman what he needs, lest he be dubbed weak and emasculated for having … HOLY SHIT … “feelings”! I just puked in my own mouth! Anyhoo … Anything MEN can fuck up, we can fuck up BETTER!
Sorry, NOT sorry, but ours are the arms that were meant to embrace the world, up to and even more so including the men that BUILD IT for us. Sorry, NOT sorry once again. Lemme ask you this: So, when’s the last time you drove by a construction site, road crew, or farm that was chock full of women? Nope! I’m not even sitting here trying to say that never in the history of the world has there been a construction site, road crew, or FARM without a “Rosie The Riveter” blood, sweat and tears WOMAN working on it. But don’t be foolish, ladies, we COULD NOT live without them, that’s the Jean Claude Van DAMN fucking hard truth, and NOPE, we are NOT “their equals”. Sorry ’boutcha! Let’s all just “normalize” emasculation! Yah! That’ll be fun! By the way, in case you haven’t figured it out by now, I’M AN EQUAL OPPORTUNITY ABUSER! I don’t think ANYONE – man OR woman – should be throwing their one-abbed spouses under the marriage joke bus. But hey, what do I know, right? My GOSH, people, it’s hard enough for anyone out there to fight the good and valiant fight when the world at large just wants to rip the people livin’ in it apart. C’mon ladies, indeed it is true that if you don’t “crown” him, pick him up and value him, who else in this jacked up world will? PROTECT THE SANCTITY OF YOUR RELATIONSHIP!Marriage is hard. Being a HUMAN is hard. “Ha ha! Hee hee! My husband is one FAT fuck of a disappointing failure! Oh, but no! I’m just kidding! I’m only doing this for LIKES and CLICKS, so, it’s okay to bitch slap him just for fun!”
WAKE UP, WARRIORS!
In the meantime, boys and girls, and aside my disdain for this whole toxic masculinity bullshit that’s driving “huMANity” straight into the fucking shitter … ARE YOU? Are you being Jean-Claude Van DAMN crystal clear about what you want from your partner, or are you fighting tooth and nail with both them and yourself trying to figure out what the fuck messed you up so bad? Whataya want from them, and most importantly, whataya want from YOU? Just don’t give up. Keep workin’ it out. Take a second to breathe so you won’t let them down. Oh, and by “them” I mean everyone you come in contact with on your journey. Just sayin’.
You … are going … TO DIE! Or, rather, should I say you’re gonna: “Pass on, keel over, croak, succumb, waste, expire, kick it, breath your last breathe, check out, be a goner, come to an end, turn to dust, push up daisies, go Home, meet your maker, pass to your eternal rest and reward, or … umm?” (Gosh, I hope none of you are getting a one way ticket down The Styx.)
Anyhoo …
You get the point, right? One day, we’re all gonna either take a deep dive into the dirt OR end up in a really beautiful, albeit obnoxiously overpriced jar that some funeral home vulture cons your loved ones into because,
Certainly, Mrs. Williamson, your husband deserves the very best urn here, right?
THAT being said … DON’T live each day like it’s your last because “one day it will be, and you’ll look back with regret for all the things you wish you’d done”. Live each day so that whenyou’re taking your last breathe, the last thing that’ll be going through your mind is,
Fuck, YEAH! What an epic ride! What’s next, Boss? BRING IT!
Lookit, I’m not trying to make you sad, and I hope I didn’t upset anyone. While it’s true that death is “nothing at all”, the sobering fact is that there IS no time like this present and no present like THIS time. So, live while you’re ALIVE and die with NO REGRETS! Just sayin’!
On this first day of a brand new year, I am gazing back at my childhood. While there are, indeed, some happy memories to be found there, for me, growing up felt mostly like constantly falling out of a bloodied and blackened sky as a million tiny shards of glass. My parents had all of my pieces in their hands, but courtesy of their own toxic childhoods, were unable to see or catch my scattered pieces, much less put them back together. Lol. “Generational trauma” … the gift that just keeps on giving. As a result, I was given no choice but to find a way to pick up, make sense of, and mend my shards alone.
Yes, I’ve healed my own broken heart way too many times to count, but I’m still just a woman who was painstakingly pieced back together with an adhesive whose sole compound is the love I finally found for myself despite the many circumstances that otherwise tried to refuse me this gift of self-artistry. Even so, I will never have that once flawless interior that I arrived here with on the day that I was born and there will always be little gaps between my pieces. Thus, the current decline in my mental health. Does the Light still shine through me like a mosaic? Of course! But does the darkness still creep through me as well? YOU BETTER BELIEVE IT! My job now is to make sure I don’t allow the latter to happen more often than the former such that the black hole my husband slipped to inks the final page of my story.
At the end of the day, I’ve had quite enough of all this hunting, gathering, and gluing myself back together like the master “Shardsman” I’ve become, and I didn’t come this far to keep having to fucking be one. Meanwhile, as an adult survivor of a fucked up beyond reality “childhood”, I guess what’s tearing me apart the most these days isn’t what was done to me, but rather, the shocking and sobering fact that after a lifetime of ducking and dodging the bullets of textbook malignant narcissism, no one will apologize, no one will intervene, and no one will stand up, say “ENOUGH!”, and help me protect the kids I brought into this tragedy we call a “family”. Instead, they just stand there and watch the shit show of arrows flying right past their faces and hearts and often straight into their backs. At this point in the game, my heart, mind, and soul are sick and tired of having to work so hard to keep all this shit together. My hands are bloodied and torn from the serrated edges of myself I’ve had to handle over the years. I just want to exist in peace now, not in “pieces”.
But you see, the flip side of this bittersweet, double-edged sword of a living love story I’ve become is that I’ve gotten to learn the very hard way that my heart is love and my hands can rest because my soul has learned to happily exist in the blissful peace of my own solitude unless and until I decide to let anyone near me with a hammer again, much less be forced to just stand there and watch some mother fucker with a hammer continually annihilate my children. The best that I can do now is the best that I can do while at least trying to embody and teach my babies, grown as they may be, the art of becoming their own Shardsmen. God, Himself knows that I, too, in all of my failings as a mortal parent have dropped a hammer or two onto their once perfect and whole glass hearts. Now? I can’t and won’t leave here until I’ve taught them the secret of “the glue”:
THEMSELVES!
One year ago this month, yet another brave daughter sent up a requiem about the lingering effects of her childhood trauma. I borrow her words to send out to not just my parents, but any other parent who’s ever emotionally crippled their child:
I thought it was normal to watch your parents fight. It taught me dysfunction was just part of life … that love’s just a word that we use to excuse our mistakes.Now, I can’t tell if I’m afraid or just jaded. I guess I’m just scared to end up the way they did. How do I unlearn the ways I deal with pain when that was all they taught me?To everyone I’ve loved who’s let me down, let this letter hold what I can’t say out loud. What do I owe you for who I became? Should I say thank you or curse your name? Do I give you credit or all of the blame, ’cause growth and pain always feel the same.I try to avoid it when I meet somebody new. I fall for the same shit that I did with you, ’cause there’s comfort in chaos, and that’s why I kept you around. It’s insane to me that this could be the medicine and the disease – the cigarette that’s killin’ me – yet, I still wanna breathe in. I keep tryin’ to wash off the smell, but it’s stuck on my skin. I wanted to fix this – I thought we could change – but when will I learn that’s a damn mistake? I’ll keep on givin’ ’til my body breaks, ’cause growth and pain always feel the same? I know it’s not your fault, but I don’t know who to blame, oh-oh. Growth and pain, growth and pain, growth and pain. They feel the same, feel the same, feel the same.
Look, I don’t know who needs to hear this right now, but please don’t be that parent whose adult children struggle with the lifelong fear that your grandchildren are gonna spend their entire lives looking in all the wrong places for the glue to put themselves back together after being imprisoned by the endless childhood trauma recovery YOU sentenced their parent to. Remember, some of us eventually realize that the families we create and the safe and healthy places we want to take them are much more important than the abusive and unacceptable bullshit YOU served us, so we burn it all down to the ground then walk away from you for good!
It’s hard to tell these days and which way that I am falling. I’m not sure anymore what’s right or what is wrong. It hurts to feel, to think, to know I may be nothing. But then again, I’ve been wrong before. I’ve opened up my eyes just to wish that I’d stayed blind. Blacken out the sky and let the arrows fly. It’s never over, not ’til it’s over. Outside looking in, when do the nightmares end? Over and over, until it’s over. The end!
As for me? I can honestly say that the last few months of 2023 all but took me to my knees and sent me into another mental health tailspin. The woman I’ve worked so hard to become and seemed shatterproof has been fractured once again and will be leaving social media and life as I’d been enjoying it for a while to calm the fire and put myself back together. I’ll be back and Imma be alright, and no, this isn’t “the end” for me. I did NOT survive all that I’ve survived just to go back to where I came from!
… because sometimes what’s actually in your own head becomes much more bearable and impeccable under not so impeccable circumstances when they’re being channeled through the thoughts, words, and deeds of someone who’s channeling someone else’s:
Oh, my dear Lone Wolf! If ONLY you knew LEGIT how many times a day I fucking SCREAM these words out loud either inside my head, in my car, or in my home. Sooner or later they’ll be tattooed on my back for some of those BASTARDS to read when they find my body dead somewhere.
“So take these chains from me … break these bastards … there’s no masters here! In the end … BREAK THESE BASTARDS! THERE’S NO MASTERS HERE!”
Just sayin’!
“What’s in your head … in your head … ZOMBIE … ZOMBIE?”
Happy New Year, Vext! You’re doin’ good, my friend, and I hope you know that you are loved, valued, and HEARD by those of us who need to NEED to hear you. I’m about to sign off of social media for a while to get my currently spiraling mental health back in order, but I’ll be watching and listening to you on our family page.
I cannot tell you how many times I’ve been told that I’m the darkest burning star filled within joy, love, happiness and light that some have ever met. To me, there is no greater compliment!
… but is it really true, as Einstein said, that “a picture is worth a thousand words”? Let’s ponder that for a minute. Take, for example, this picture of my son and his girl taken one year ago this day on his 30th birthday trip to Aspen. Or rather should I say, she’s our girl, not just his, as she’s one who has somehow managed to not just steal his heart, but in many ways UN “steel” his heart once and for all. It’s one of my favorites of them thus far.
Do you see it?
Do you see what I see here? Of course not! But you see, as his mother, not only does this snapshot evoke insurmountable feelings of pride, joy, happiness, hope, and LOVE for both of their futures, likewise is it a poignant reminder of the entire lifetime of mental pictures flipping back and forth through not just my head, but his, hers, and probably even the stranger who snapped it. As with every photograph, the backstories of both of their lives that culminated to this one moment captured in time are the collective lifetimes of “nothing, everything, ALL OF IT” experiences they’ve had prior.
Always remember that not every child was equipped with the proper toolbox and blueprint for how to be in a healthy relationship. Sadly, so many people truly believe that the broken adult born of a toxic childhood should somehow just be able to magically snap their fingers and “get over it”. What they don’t realize is that the environment a child was raised in either systematically FAILS or eniquivocally EQUIPS them to cognitively, emotionally, psychologically, and often even physically grow into a normal, healthy, functioning adult with the wings they need to fly and the tools they need to not just “survive”, but THRIVE as a healthy adult in any capacity. When a young person is always in “fighting just to survive” mode, they often miss the REAL flying lessons.
I’ve been avoiding things I’m missing. Then you came into my life a brand new flower, baby. A reminder of what happiness is like on the other side. I’m saying my blind side. And if a mental picture’s all I’ve got to go on, for a while or more … you know I’ll always think of you, think of you.
(John Secada)
By the way, never forget that sometimesthe person we need most to help us check our “blind side” and cultivate a season of brand new flowers is ourselves! (Wink, wink!)
So, with that, I say Einstein truly was a genius, and not just academically speaking. As is the case with the more intelligent of the human species, his knowledge of the human heart, soul, mind, and mental pictures that they take were spot on!
I’m so proud of you, Christian! You, too, honey! See that? I told you he was gonna be okay. He just needed you to keep having faith in him “as he was“, just like you always did in me, and he needed the right girl beside him, just like I ever did!
Hey, Papa? Is it my imagination, or is he finally starting to come around? He’s been hell bent on fighting those demons of his alone and digging his way out of the hole WE all dug for him and had it stuck in his head that after all the “fuck ups and blunders” he’s been constantly reminded of he doesn’t deserve a thing from anyone. He’s so determined to do everything on his own now so that no one can throw anything back in his face or hold his successes over his head. All he does is work, he never seems to sleep, and he’s been running his race so damn hard trying to make up for all the time he only thinks he’s lost and I needed to find a way to help him with all the heavy stuff he’s been carrying. So? THANK YOU! Thank You for helping him let me help him. And also? THANK YOU for letting me be his momma, and especially for letting me be YOUR favorite daughter. I LOVE YOU!
I have an important message for whoever is reading this right now. Whatever you’re doing and however you’re doing it, stop all that Jean-Claude Van DAMN worrying about how many people seem to be outpacing. Your only competition in this “race track of life” gig should be the “you” you were five minutes ago and no one else!
And THIS …
Even when you’re actually on the road and there are a boatload of cars in the lanes ahead of you, aren’t there also always cars behind you? Umm, YAH! There really are. First? Last? Middle?
SCREW THAT!
With that, I would now like to send a very special message to my incredibly talented and handsome son, Christian Peter, who turned 31 today at exactly “4:50 pm”.
Son, please don’t run your engine so hard that you burn out your motor before you hit the finish line. Find time to relax, cool your engine, look for the rest stops, and even revel in all the boring stuff so you can enjoy the views as you’re rolling on down the road. You are where you are … nowhere more and nowhere less … and as long as you’re doing your best, being kind to yourself and others, and going “all in” to the utmost of your ability without sacrificing your precious mental wealth …
YOU’RE – ARE – WINNING!
Slow down you crazy child, because Vienna really does wait for both you and that savage QUEEN God created JUST for you. There’s no need to rush to some imaginary finish line that, in fact, doesn’t really exist. Besides, I’m 2,000% certain that on the day you meet The Maker, He’s not gonna be asking to see your racing stats. He, like me, is just going to be glad you got Home safely. Happy birthday, son. I LOVE YOU!
~ “BMITW”
VIENNA
Slow down you crazy child. You’re so ambitious for a juvenile, but then if you’re so smart tell me, why are you still so afraid? Where’s the fire, what’s the hurry about? You better cool it off before you burn it out. You got so much to do and only so many hours in a day, but you know that when the truth is told that you can get what you want or you can just get old. You’re gonna kick off before you even get halfway through. When will you realize … Vienna waits for you?Slow down you’re doing fine. You can’t be everything you want to be before your time, although it’s so romantic on the borderline tonight. Too bad, but it’s the life you lead. You’re so ahead of yourself that you forgot what you need. Though you can see when you’re wrong, you know you can’t always see when you’re right. You got your passion, you got your pride, but don’t you know that only fools are satisfied? Dream on, but don’t imagine they’ll all come true. When will you realize … Vienna waits for you?Slow down you crazy child. Take the phone off the hook and disappear for a while. It’s alright, you can afford to lose a day or two. When will you realize … Vienna waits for you?And you know that when the truth is told that you can get what you want or you can just get old. You’re gonna kick off before you even get halfway through. Why don’t you realize … Vienna waits for you?When will you realize … Vienna waits for you? {Billy Joel}
But what does an 18th century poem by some dead guy have to do with us today and what can we learn from it? Not only is it a cautionary tale about the dangers of following the wrong leaders who in all their assumed power and wisdom are failing themselves and their people, as well is it about the impact of fighting battles we don’t understand and blindly hitching ourselves to bandwagons:
Not though the soldier knew someone had blundered. Theirs not to make reply … theirs not to reason why … theirs but to do and die.
Look, you don’t have to be a soldier on the front line of a bloody and emblazoned battlefield about to charge into his death or a football player running head first into a Sumo-sized wall of concussions waiting to happen to know that life really IS a game of inches that we should be courageous, honorable, and educated enough to play wisely:
While it’s obviously geared towards inspiring a team, in all the years I’ve listened to it, I’ve done so from the perspective of “me, myself, and I”. Meaning? This “I am my own best friend and the one person I know I can always count on” mindset of mine was clearly within me all the while, even during the lowest points of my “game”. I guess I just needed some “get REAL, Cat”, no nonsense, TOUGH LOVE and GRIT coaching from myself as I fought to climb my way out of hell and into the Light … one inch at a time. These words can apply to essentially any relationship dynamic.
They say that “TEAM work makes the DREAM work”, and I suppose that can be true, but the last time I checked, some of our “leaders” aren’t actually leading us anywhere. Rather, they’re herding the masses of oblivious, albeit cute ‘lil sheep who simply HAVE to be able to squawk, “Woohoo! I’m on the team! I’M ON THE TEAM!”, when where they’re really going is to Napoleon The Pig’s self-serving, tyrannical Manor Farm SLAUGHTER.
While of course we often have to come together as steadfast and loyal “team players” with the strength in all our numbers for the sake of humanity’s betterment and survival, I guess what I’m trying to say is be careful when hitching your bandwagon to someone else’s star. Unlike “the 600” who had no other choice but to ride boldly into the Jaws Of Death, the last American draft call was December 7th, 1972, the authority to induct expired June 30th, 1973, and thankfully fewer than 30 countries still require whole age cohorts to complete a military service that could force them to sacrifice both their life and personal honor in pursuit of a cause they may not even believe in. Meaning? For the most part, we can, indeed, “pick our battles” now.
I guess what I’m saying that yes, you should most definitely pray for the courage to stand alone against and apart from a herd that’s running face first and fists a pumpin’ towards the edge of a cliff based on some other jackwad’s dumb ideas or mistakes. This is especially true for today’s children and childlike, non-thinking “adults” who are being indoctrinated not to question the either the rules or those who are making them. Maybe some know best, but then again, MAYBE THEY DON’T! It all depends on who they are and where they come from.
In the meantime, if you do ultimately die trying for something important, do your best to have have courage and honor in doing so. Now, THAT will be pretty damn good!
I.
Half a league,
Half a league,
Half a league onward,
All in the Valley Of Death rode the six hundred.
“Forward, the Light Brigade! Charge for the guns!” he said.
Into the Valley Of Death rode the six hundred.
II.
“Forward, the Light Brigade!”
Was there a man dismayed?
Not though the soldier knew someone had blundered.
Theirs not to make reply,
Theirs not to reason why,
Theirs but to do and die.
Into the Valley Of Death rode the six hundred.
III.
Cannon to right of them,
Cannon to left of them,
Cannon in front of them volleyed and thundered;
Stormed at with shot and shell, boldly they rode and well, into the jaws of Death, into the mouth of hell rode the six hundred.
IV.
Flashed all their sabres bare,
Flashed as they turned in air,
Sabring the gunners there,
Charging an army, while all the world wondered.
Plunged in the battery-smoke,
Right through the line they broke;
Cossack and Russian reeled from the sabre stroke shattered and sundered.
Then they rode back, but NOT the six hundred.
V.
Cannon to right of them,
Cannon to left of them,
Cannon behind them volleyed and thundered;
Stormed at with shot and shell while the horse and hero fell that had fought so well.
Came through the jaws of Death,
Back from the mouth of hell, all that was left of them,
I walked into a local car wash I’ve been patroning for 25 years today. Keep in mind that my sole purpose for even leaving my house in the first place was to go the car wash then Hobby Lobby for the supplies I needed to make the annual Christmas basket I’ll take to the cemetery in the morning for my daughter. I was in a happy, contemplative, and reflective headspace, because having the strength and resilience to bring flowers to my dead child’s grave as often as I do with peace and joy in my heart and not sadness and bitterness is something I’m very thankful for.
Meanwhile, the little bitch who’s been working their register for five or six years and always gives me an attitude no matter how much I try killing her with kindness saw the “Lions Den Live” shirt I was wearing:
“Oh, now it all makes sense,” she said.
“What makes sense,” I asked.
“The Lions Not Sheep people … they all think they’re better than everyone else.”
REALLY?
That’s when Satan jumped IN my actual ass, crawled up my spine, then expelled himself out of my mouth in an abysmal and very public display of vile. Am I disappointed in myself for just handing her my cards and giving her the upper hand? Umm, YAH! I mean, I’m a human, not a machine. Have I gotten over it and forgiven both her and myself? Yes, I have.
You know, I’ve been asked a couple times why I always write “power and grace” and “love and respect” … It takes two things to make it in this world: Power and grace. Being powerful enough to project and to be assertive and stand for what you stand for, but have it be graceful at the same time, and having gratitude for those that, you know, come in contact with you, and so on and so forth. Love and respect, he said, was the second half of that, because to have power, you have to show those two things ~ love and respect. To have grace, you have to own both of those things ~ love and respect.
At the end of the day, while I was, indeed, powerful in my assertiveness and standing for what I stand for, I wasn’t at all graceful, loving, or respectful towards those I came in contact with. For that reason, I’ve spent a fair amount of time since then straightening my crooked crown, having a come to Jesus with myself, and recalling messages from my favorite battle anthems as well the voices of my ancestors and Earthen scions. I needed to remind myself that I’m SO much better than the way I behaved.
I’d like to think that if one of my ancestors was standing behind me in that lobby today, they’d have pulled me aside afterwards for a cigarette, a light, and a ‘lil chat that would have prolly gone something like this:
If you’re gonna play the game, girl, you gotta remember to play it right! You already know how to hold ’em, you’ve had to learn the hard way when to fold ’em, but now we just needa work on that “knowing when it’s time to walk away” piece. Umm, hello? Don’t you know who you are? You know damn good and well by now that THE secret to survivin’ is in the art of all the SILENT wars and never countin’ all that money when you’re either sittin’ or standin’ in front of the table!
By the way, if my husband’s ghost was standing behind me today watching all that shit go down, let me tell you that boy must have wanted to kick my ass! Had he been alive still today and standing there with me, he would have kicked my ass, been rightfully disappointed in if not ashamed of me, and would have read me a whole new kinda riot act on the way home from there, if not sooner.
For the record, I’ve already ordered How To Make Shit Happen from Amazon and will most definitely be bringing both it and a “LIONS NOT SHEEP” shirt to her one day next week, at which time I’m told I’ll be getting an apology from her. Regardless of my wresting with myself over the way I was triggered today and how much of an idiot I must have looked while representing both Sean’s brand and my own small but steadily growing platform of “love and light“, no one gets to assume that I or anyone “thinks they’re better than everyone else”, which by the way, is hilarious, since as far as I’m concerned, just her thinking and saying those words out loud to a complete and total stranger, did, indeed, make me “better than her” for at least that moment.
Today, one of my dearest friends and “Death Punch sisters” gifted me the inspiration I’d been looking for to properly name and complete this Diary entry I began drafting over THREE YEARS GO to “The Bleeding”:
(HER):
The post you made yesterday about Gia and the email has been on my mind since I read it. I didn’t comment because I didn’t even know what I wanted to say. But now I do.I don’t know the situations but I think I have a good idea. The little cuntlings know they are in the presence of someone who is worlds above any level they could ever attempt to reach. In order to cover their own misgivings and incompetence they try to gild the wings of a greatness that’s unattainable to lesser beings. When they spread their ugly words, it’s to cover up the hate they carry for themselves. To try and make someone hurt a fraction of how they do inside is the goal. Sometimes I’m sure it stings, and sometimes I’m sure Gia has wanted to give up and give in but she too knows there is such a greatness in her that she will not be torn down beyond repair. I know you’re proud of her vetoing compare, and you should be. She truly is one of the brightest, yet darkest burning stars in the universe and she will never be tamed.
(ME):
I’m in tears. For real. Not to mention the fact that every time I hear that song, THE thing that comes to mind is JUST how truly dark AND bright of a star she is!
Meanwhile, once her essay is done, I already have that Diary entry locked, loaded, and IN THE HOLSTER, but I just didn’t know what I was going to call it OR which song I’d pair with it. I think you just solved that for me:
While I don’t necessarily adhere to all of his philosophies and certainly don’t think “God is dead”, I do align with a great deal of Nieztsche’s anti-conformist ideals. The three things he loathed most were conventional thought, organized religion, and the often false virtue of conventional morals and ethics. Like Nietzsche, I believe it’s the weaker and less intelligent among us who tend live within the confines of ass-backwards herd mentality thinking and doing because they lack the ability, strength and courage to think for, stand for, or even exist apart from a crowd as “themselves”. So, they forsake their individuality and any potential for personal growth or ascension.
Not MY daughter! She’s one of the elite, my friends, if not a superhuman force of nature, who like her mother has crossed on over to the far side of traditional social structure …
i love you my sweet momma. how lucky am i that i have such a powerful woman as my mom”
So, with that, here’s to one of the most truly beautiful, brightest, darkest burning stars I’ve ever had the privilege of knowing. She has emerged from all this chaos anything but mediocre amidst the masses of her thoughtless sheepen peers who literally don’t know who they are or what to think unless somebody else tells them into a perpetual state of creativity, individuality, and SHINE!
… because SOMETIMES the best gifts are delivered by the skeletons of Christmas PRESENT to ride or die with you and all the rest of the ‘lil beasts you keep on a leash, or via the most beautifully random and cryptic messages. Yes, I really am the luckiest, most blessed mothers and reigning Queens on this Earth, and stillGod’s favorite daughter. I truly don’t deserve this beautiful life I’ve been given, but then again, I suppose I do.
People seek retreats for themselves in the country, by the sea, or in the mountains. You are very much in the habit of yearning for those same things. But this is entirely the trait of a base person, when you can, at any moment, find such a retreat in yourself. For nowhere can you find a more peaceful and less busy retreat than in your own soul-especially if on close inspection it is filled with ease, which I say is nothing more than being well-ordered. Treat yourself often to this retreat and be renewed.
I mean, don’t get me wrong. Knowing that “the kids” are home safely, “the significant other” is home safely, and your many other “people” all being hunkered back down safely from wherever in this world their daily travels took them is everything.
Thank you, Jesus. AMEN!
But, you see, this “get home safely” message is for YOU! Someday, you’ll be the literal axis upon which other worlds revolve. Your primary assignment in this lifetime will be domestic goddess, wife, and mom, which of course is THE top job of them all. You’ll be the very essence and living heartbeat of any structure wherein you dwell, the love of many other peoples’ lives, and the one person they’ll run to the fastest and NEED to see standing strong when they walk back through your open door:
I’m coming home. I’m coming home. Tell the world I’m coming home. Let the rain wash away all the pain of yesterday … I know my kingdom awaits and they’ve forgiven my mistakes.
Take care of YOU, because YOU are precious, too, and, yes, it’s okay to value your own life, mental wealth, and physical well-being as much as, if not MORE than “theirs”. “Their lives” wouldn’t be the same without YOU.
They say that “home is where the heart is”, and nothing could be further from the truth. So, while you’re out there getting where you’re getting to, be mindful of the many hearts that call your still beating heart their home. You’re their Sun, their Moon, and their Stars! Give thanks and praise to God when YOU walk back through your own doors, because even He knows that this “living” gig ain’t always easy.
By the way, might I just say how amazing it is that now when you hear this song, you hear it from a much different place? I’m super proud of you for that, by the way, “Younger Me”! And, oh, one last thing … I really, really love you!
The Diary Of My Perfection 
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