True Enough

True enough Jeff so here goes.

For the first time in 8 years I have been told I would be allowed to see my son. FOR A MONTH!!!!!! Although I have misgivings about why they have finally allowed me to be near him, I am overjoyed to be able to have him here for a month starting this Saturday. I know for some who have read here they have seen me rage and cry about this issue before. And although it is likely I will still hate the folks who stole him from me until the day that I die, the hate has now been wrapped up a bit and put away in a nice tight lock box as I cant remain so angry when I have been told he could come here. I am seriously praying that this isn't some ploy on their part to once again set me up to look like a failure in front of my son. But even if it is, I suppose the month with him will be worth it.

So thats what I have been busy with. I just recently found Steven on facebook and a couple of his friends helped to get us together again and talking. I am amazed at him. He is only 15 but so wise. After 8 years apart we still have a bond like we did before. And all the poison they fed him, and still feed him about me, is lost on him. He has a mind of his own. He doesnt just take things for what they appear to be, or are told they are. He is cool, strong, fun and wise beyond his few 15 years. He is me when I was 15. He is me today. I cant wait!

Back to Blogger

Having some annoying people reading and trolling my myspace has brought me back here once again to make the post that really count to me. And coming back and looking around I see the old gang is still here. I will be here much more often and have updated my page to reflect what I really care about here.

Yay for blogger, its a diary that I know will be free of the drama of the children of myspace lol

Broken Hearted Savior

Sometimes, a random song will just pop into my head. One I likely havent heard for years, sometimes one Ive only heard a couple of times before. Usually I know right away why. This one came to me a few months back, maybe even up to a year ago. And I downloaded it, played it and loved it. I just didnt really understand its place in my life. (pretty much every song could have a place in my life at some point) But it took me a while to figure out where it really was.

Now that I know I can honestly just say that I truly miss my Momma. The worst feeling I ever had in my life was visiting with her just after getting out of Roanoke City. And I felt like I could see it in her eyes once, and then the rest of the time I just got the 'sense' that she was scared. I wasnt projecting it onto her and I knew this because I didnt go in there with any preconceived notions. But once I stood by her bed, brushed her hair and talked to her a bit, I just felt this silently grasping fear. And then I knew real fear. I suppose its not even strange to see now that although I never embraced my mothers particular brand of faith. Just her having faith gave it to me be default. I laugh back at the days where I thought I was an atheist. Never once did I look around at all before me and think, this just happened by accident. I know I have some pretty odd sounding ideas of what might be the truth, but without going into them Id just have to say that science and religion probably both have it about half right, and the truth lay somewhere definite and between them.

"Fields are white in snowy spring and I can't
Remember the last time I've seen her.
The highway is still cold and wet and I can't
Forget the way I had to leave her.
And every passing day, she flickers and she fades.
Is someone to catch her when she falls from the heavens?"

I lost a huge chunk of faith that I know will eventually work its way back to me. But I no longer believe that I have infinite time. I know that no matter what I believe now, today, tomorrow will never matter in the moment.

The truth light that came out of this is that I am still convinced there is something, a lot past where we are in this lifetime. Its a lump I still swallow hard over but I believe my Momma went to her heaven. Because I don't think that spirituality is as much of an idea as it is a faith in the unknown. I think she got somewhere where she wanted to be. I think we are all on a journey here, not at the end of one.

Finally feeling good about life again a little bit, much of the things that brought me down before are now non-existent in my life, and with any good luck at all, they will stay that way. While also remembering the good that I lost last year, I can definitely say that the one loss put the other minuscule ones in check. I have a lot to be thankful for. And every piece of last year taught me that. I am now going to enjoy what I have left to with the only people that matter in my life.

Well Well Well

Wow, fate works a lot I suppose. Just a few months ago a couple of skanks worked together to have me thrown in jail. I served my time on one charge only to have to turn around and have to do ten more days. After my first night in jail on the second charge, my mother died. Nothing in that allows for forgiveness to me. Even though my mother would not advocate holding a grudge, that bullshit is just something that I won't ever forget, or likely even forgive for.

So while I anxiously awaited fate to step in and bring around what was sent around, I was very impatient this time. Although I would not ever do something to speed up fate, I desperately awaited word that she had indeed done her job.

So I want to thank you fate, as now I know that those two skanks are soon to pay for what they put on me. As I sit here now the police are looking for one skank, while the other skank harbors her. I now patiently await the day when those who would jeopardize my freedom have theirs snatched from them.

Alas, all the pain and desperation of feeling and seeing your bad deeds returned to you must be horrifying. It must be scary to think that you may lie and deceive those who are used to such things and get away with it for a moment, only to see the universe itself bring it back to you tenfold. And just think, I didnt have to lift a finger. I didnt have to drive somewhere and risk getting charged with filing fake charges. And even better yet, I didnt have to sell my soul to the devil for getting away with something for which you surely owe a large part of yours.

And last but not least, for those of you who would lie to me about your involvment in these things. For those who truly believe that I truly believe you, well, try to remember you are simply unknowing messengers of mine and your ignorance will cost you more then you can afford in the end.

For my Sister; Part 3

Even being 15 and having had been through the insanity I had lived through at such an early age I still had some wisdom and patience that a lot of adults envied. I realized even then that to tell my son the real truths of the ugliness his father put me through wasn't fair. To him or to his father. I decided early on that I would allow my son to formulate his own opinion of his father. I moved on with my life once I moved back into my parents house. But just as I had left home early for a reason, I couldnt stay in theirs for long either.

While I was living with my parents I went to Virginia Western to complete my GED. My education up to that point had never been important to me at all. School itself was a laughable subject. But I realized that having a child and being the hater of hypocrisy that I was, that I couldnt expect a child of mine to finish an education if I didnt have one myself. So in 92 I took part in a very nice event that Va Western through for the GED graduates that year. Within a few months of graduating I finally had my first apartment. It was in Tinker Creek and my son would be starting Lincoln Terrace the following year, but things were starting to look up. There was a world full of adversity for me. Every friend I had, that I had had since pre-teen years, all had serious drug problems. This being my first apartment and all, meant every friend I had ever had just had to come and stay with me. And they did, and they brought their drama and their problems to my door along with themselves. Sometimes even their children. Since I had learned my lesson about sex and pregnancy early on I was very adamant and religious about taking my birth control pills. So three months into my new apartment living, when I found out I was pregnant again I was also very adamant about not wanting another child. Especially with the new boyfriend with the same old abusive problem as the old ones.

When I confronted the guy I was seeing at the time and asked him for the money for an abortion he told me he didnt want me to do it. He told me he wanted a child. Being the person that I am I conceded. I would have never went through with it. But in anger I suppose I wanted to hear him say he wanted the baby too.

To make an extremely long story short, I went through with the pregnancy, spent it completely alone since the father spent the entire pregnancy in jail, had my son whose birthday was a small miracle in itself, and then immediately had him taken from me when I refused to get back with the father. A pain no mother should have to live with.. to date I havent seen my youngest son in 5 years. Not because I dont desperately want to, but because every time I had a visit with him his grandparents would torment him endlessly with questions about his mother. It got to where every time our visit was drawing to a close he would cry uncontrollably and tell me the things they were about to put him through. I couldn't keep putting him through that. And I have pages and pages of proof of my fight and struggle for him stored away, stored to show him on day he turns 18, that I fought for him until the fight started causing him pain.

Everything felt right though to me. When I was living in Tinker creek and just after my youngest son was born, I had a visit from Bob Underwood, and Edith Boyd. They both had their own stories to tell, and some of it I recognized as truth and some of it I recognized as fabrications. My mother told me that one day social services had showed up and just 'taken all her babies away.' As harsh and straight forward as I am I still couldnt bring myself to tell her the truth that I knew. The one where my older brother had screamed and cried when the police took his little sister from his arms. The baby he felt he had to protect. I always thought that one day I may tell her I knew the truth, but before that day came she died. And the way she died wasnt exactly free of foul play. My oldest sister Laura, one who has the mentality of a 12 year old due to the fetal alcohol, had written a letter to my mother 3 days before she died. The letter said she was going to kill her. Edith had called the police and turned the letter over to them. Apparently they ruled her death accidental, because Laura had given her the last dosage of insulin that she ever took. Just a massive load more then she required. Even though her death was investigated nothing ever came of it. But I knew what happened. At her funeral there were whispers of my true beginnings. The stories I had heard from people who had no reason to lie.


It seems like none of the experiences I had with my biological parents were actually truth. But I supposed even the that when shame is involved the truth gets very twisted.

For my Sister; Part 2

Well from the start my parents always let me know that I was adopted. I remember being around 5 years old and them buying me a book which I actually remember was called "Why was I adopted?" The writer of that book was genius and probably went a long way in shaping most of my teenage life. I will never forget a paragraph that explained to me that adopted kids were extra loved because they brought me into their lives on purpose. Maybe thats not so important or even trivial and petty to most adults, but to a very young girl it was really important to me to know that my parents went out of their way to get me and bring me into their home.

My Dad is what every little girl wants. He is my Daddy. At 34 I still call him Daddy when I talk to him on the phone. He is a hardcore italian with a soft spot rarely shown to anyone but his littlest daughter. At this point in my life I can now see that my Mom is the strongest woman I have ever known. At the time when I was a teenager we clashed badly. We had a lot of serious problems in our relationship, but she was always the rock in the house. No matter what, my parents NEVER did some of the things I know I wouldnt have been lucky enough to escape had I been brought up in Bobs home. My parents NEVER once called me any derogatory names. They never held me back. They never failed to give me as much love or as much punishment as I was asking for.

Though my early childhood was a little rough with not having a mother who was also my friend, by the time I was 10 years old I was trusted and mature enough that when my sister had a baby I was the one who babysat while she worked. My parents are far from the type of people who ever break any laws or harm children in anyway, it wasnt that at all. It was that I was a VERY mature child, at least outwardly.

The one thing that I lacked that left the hugest spot on my heart was the primal need for blood ties. That really hurt me badly. Whenever kids in school would make references to 'blood brothers' or some such reference to how much of a bond they felt with another soul, I always ached a little bit inside.

'You cant miss what you dont know.' Even right now I want to agree with that. It sounds like it should be true. But to a 15 year old who just found out she was pregnant. It was everything. I never once considered an abortion, and when adoption was brought up to me I nearly lost it. Once I knew I was going to have my son, all those references to blood ties and strong bonds became the most important thing to me on earth.

When I look back on it, my 15 year old teenage self, SO smart, so much common sense but still lacking the most important thing that only time can give you, wisdom. Then I start to wonder, you know.. What the hell is a 20 year old man doing with a 15 year old girl anyway. Of course when I first found out, my parents, my Daddy especially, just wanted the guy in jail. After we worked that out we all decided that it would be best for me and the baby if I just went ahead and moved in with the father of the baby.

So I did. And through all those months where he had played on the emotions of a young girl who desired nothing more then to be loved by someone other then her parents, he showed his real self all too soon.

The pregnancy was hard. I was a very small 15 year old. Very athletic but just too tiny still to be carrying a baby. The high risk pregnancy was also riddled with some ridicule. I was 15 and I finished my 8th grade year, but not without some amazingly horrible dirty looks and a lot of embarrassing moments when I had to repeat to people how old I was.

By the time I was 7 months pregant he showed me what kind of human he really was. I was 15 and 7 months pregnant when a man first decided to hit me. I recall my son being about 2 months old when one of those assaults happened to me, out in the front yard, in front of his whole family. When he decided to stop beating me in the head with a brick, I staggered to my feet, with them all still watching, not offering a lick of help. And when I passed by them to get to the front door, his father told me "ya know honey, you really shouldnt make him so mad." The physical abuse in that situation paled in comparison to such ignorance. Even at 15 I KNEW I hadn't 'asked for it'. I knew that it wasnt acceptable no matter what I had done.

When my son was only 3 weeks old I found out I had gallstones. I was immediately admitted to the hospital through the ER and in surgery within an hour. It was about to kill me. It was also incredibly scary for a 15 year old. Still sore and exhausted from childbirth. Now I had a 6 inch scar on my belly, with 60 staples holding me together. Even with all that going on I was an anxious mother. When my baby moaned or sighed or didnt breath when I thought he should be I would be up and at him. I recall when he was around 3 months old one time that the exhaustion took over and when he woke one morning I never heard it. After I had gone to the bathroom his mom thrust a baby at me and told me she couldnt believe I let that baby cry like I did which is why she had come and got him. And I laughed to myself thinking, Wow! and I thought I was alone before.

I finally left his father after one of his abusive incidents. I had no where to go at that point and ended up living with his cousins who lived just down the road. When my son was 8 months old he came after me. While I was standing near an alley which was in the back yard of his cousins house, I seen headlights coming for me. I gripped my son a little more tightly and moved out of the direct headlights and seen who it was. By then I had only the amount of time it took to literally throw my son to a by stander and within seconds his car ran over me.

After the police were called and my Daddy showed up ready to kill him, I decided it would be okay if I moved back home. So I did. I cant even describe the blessing my parents were, have been, and still are, all these years. But they were there for me. I was lucky enough that I was able to be a mother, be responsible, work and my parents were right there begging to watch the baby while I went out and enjoyed what was left of my childhood.

A month before I got my very first apartment my best childhood friend died in a car accident that I felt soley responsible for. It was amazing to me everytime I thought to myself that things couldnt get worse. And they did for a very long time.

I cant explain how lucky I feel through all of it. But the universe or God or whatever the highest power calls itself, has always had an eye on me I believe. For every thing that it ripped away from me, it has tried to give it back. Sometimes though, you cant see the forest for the trees, and sometimes, hurt and scared teenage mothers cant make out a face that is looking at her with love, because the tears make it impossible to see.

For my Sister; Part 1

My adoptive parents. Joanne and Don, born in 1937 and 1938 respectively, lost their only biological child when they were about 26. Their son was stillborn and my mother was told she would never be able to have another child. Shortly after this incident they decided to start fostering children. They fostered ANY kids. Mentally or physically handicapped, refugees, even kids who didnt speak english. Once they had spent a few years doing this they decided they wanted to look for a baby to adopt. I could definately understand this, they sacrificed a LOT to take care of children who they would raise, one spent 3 years with them, and then the state or parents would take the children back. It must have been heartbreaking for a couple who had so much love to give a child, just couldnt manage to keep one long enough to pour the brunt of that love into. When Joanne and Don were in their early 40's they got a call from a lady they dealt with often who said words that I know my mother had longed to hear all her life. "How would you like a little redheaded baby girl?" Thats what she told me the lady said when she answered the phone. My Mom told me then that she went to her friends and told them and at a bowling game between them all they managed to pick out a name for me.

They were given guardianship of me when I was 4 months old and in December of 74 they were allowed to apply for the adoption process. The reason they had to wait was because Bob had applied for custody of me when the state removed me from Ediths care.

Okay here is the rough part, not because of the context of it as much as because while Im a firm believer in 'walk in my shoes' as well as a mother I have conflicting feelings about not only what I know, but how much of it is true. We all know how things can get overplayed, underplayed and distorted through the telling, and especially with time.

From what I know, when I was a month or so old, my oldest half brother Harley who was around 9 or 10 at that time was brought in by a neighbor who called child protective services because he had seen them and asked them if they could help him feed his sisters. I have two half sisters who are older then me, but they are the only ones of Ediths 4 children who have serious mental disabilities because of Fetal alcohol syndrome and a syndrome called Fragile X. Its very similar to Downs syndrome with the exception of it has the tendancy to effect boys more severely. Whereas girl children are usually just mildly handicapped in socialization and particular education subjects like math etc, the boys effected by it are limited to a pre-teen mentality and capabilities for their lives. Fragile X doesnt seem to shorten the lives of those who have it like downs does, but there is rarely a male with fragile x who is able to live independently.

So there is Harley 9 or 10, Laura 7, Melissa 4, and me a couple of months old and thats all I know. I dont know where anyone was or what they were doing. Just what was reported to me at the time I made the request for my biological parents information. Most of the things I know that I would feel confident in repeating came from a lady named Corinne Gott at Roanoke City Social Services, who not only still worked there from the time I was born until I reemerged seeking my familys history, but because of my blaze orange hair she never forgot me. Knew who I was before I even told her why I was there. She remembered what had happened after I was born.

For whatever reason she said that Bob did request a custody hearing for me, and that after several months of investigating him she just could not feel comfortable putting me in his custody. So she had sent the adoption to Richmond to be processed at that time. I was adopted instantly since I had already spent the required year with the adoptive parents by then.

As I said before, Ive spent my life being non-judgemental of people in general and the whys and whens of how things happen. I always try to remember that I wasnt 'there' when all this was going on, I had never walked in their shoes and it wasnt for me to judge God or fate or whoever as to how things had ended up. I recall that really hitting me as Corinne had spoken to me about what she remembered. How one action had led to another, and another and the result was that a mentally handicapped woman gave birth to four children who she wasnt capable of taking care of, and a little part of me hurt for her wondering why her children had to go hungry before someone noticed she needed help. And to this day I feel horrible for that 9 year old boy who desperately tried to take care of his little sisters. I was told that when the cops and cps arrived that Harley screamed and cried when they took 'his baby' from him. All those children were seperated by the state that night and had to look for each other to find them. I dont have an insane amount of maternal bones in my body but the thought of all that makes my heart ache if I think on it too long.

When I met Bob and Edith the first time, I think I was 21 and living in Tinker Creek at the time with my two sons. They told me their story. That didnt include anything that Corrinne had told me. Even though I knew the things they told me likely had little truth still I reminded myself that although Corinnes version was likely more fact, and my parents more emotion there was probably a good version of the truth somewhere in between. When Edith died 5 years later she still didnt know the version I knew. I had no plans of ever telling her. Because regardless of her actions and the responsibilities she failed in as a pregnant woman and mother, she was still a woman, young with 4 kids, who no one had paid attention to before her kids ended up hungry alone on a neighbors doorstep. Her relief in my acceptance of her version was extremely obvious. Even having had a relatively bad experience with Joanne as a young girl, my soul knew that this was my mother, she had given me life, although shakey, and thats why I was standing there right then. Its not anywhere in my usual nature to let anything I feel is a slight pass, to me or my family or friends, go unspoken. I always speak up. As a young girl I wrote a lot, I still have journals from when I was 16 where if I found myself alone I could still voice the stories of my life somewhere.

Well Joanne and Don adopted two more daughters within a few years as well. Cindy and Mary were adopted when i was a year old. Cindy was 11 and Mary was 6. Their mother had recently been killed in a car accident in Jacksonville Florida where they lived, their father was a vietnam vet and would never leave the V. A. Hospital so couldnt care for them.

We all grew up without a clue how lucky we were in my opinion. And although I wish a lot of things could be different I am forever greatful for the series of events that led to Joanne and Don being given a little redheaded baby.

Open Wide and Say My Name

I left my soul a million miles away
I drink from your tit
I sing your blues everyday
Now give me the strength to split the world in two
I ate all the rest
And now I gotta eat you

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What the Fluff!??~?!!@

Ive always known that Roanoke Countys judicial system was a little tainted. Ive seen that firsthand, up close and personally. Sometimes that has come in the form of a band of merry County Mountys illegally taking my own child and giving him to someone else.. someone with a track record of raising menace to society children. Someone who brought up one of the best woman beating, drunk-n-raging idiots this side of the Mississippi in the last century or so. Those same leaders of law who periodically ram their cars into peoples houses, then charge the next person who does with wreckless driving and speeding. Then there was the peach of them all, the cop who pepper sprayed the 88 year old lady, for facing the wrong way in traffic on her little back country road so she could get her mail. (SHIT I DO THAT OMG...OMFG!!) Then there was that little momentous evening where they had somewhat of a tazer party with me being of course, the guest of honor at their lovely bed n breakfast.

Funny how they have the habit of charging people with CRIMINIAL CHARGES that hold JAIL TIME and somehow they convieniently forget to offer you an attorney. A LAW THAT NO STATE IS ALLOWED TO IGNORE.

Thank you Roanoke County, for being such upstanding members of the judicial system of this country. It is because of this small branch of the money whores of the united states of america that all over this country we are riddled with bad law and even worse law makers. If you have money, you can legally steal someones kid. If you worked for this county before you attempt this kidnapping, then hell, you may NOT even have to pay that much to do it. Or, you can be the mother of an underaged teenager who gets hit by a ginormous looking neighbor and the judge will curse you for looking angry about it. Hell, thats just the tip of this big sinking iceberg. Nevertheless, it IS sinking. One day, sometime, it will go under, and it will take all of you crooked cops and crooked judges and crooked deputies, way down with it. And who do you think will be there with huge sticks, poking it and pushing it under as fast as is possible?

Hundreds of thousands of people who have hundreds of thousands of relatives and friends who were completely screwed by you and your system all along. Arent you smart enough by now to realize what an unsettled society we live in? Every day BAD shit happens to people who fuck people over. Sometimes its as simple as a familiar murder, sometimes its as horrific as VA tech. But it all boils down to one thing, people who were or just FELT they were fucked over by you are the first to strike back. I think its time you deal with humanity as if they are humans. Not all people are guilty until proven innocent. Not all cases are alike. Will I be the one helping to push you under when you begin to sink? I dont know, are you willing to bet that when you judged me to be a bad human, when you treated me as one...that you were indeed correct and not just being a generalizing bastard? Do you want to look at death as opposed to accepting help in the form of the hand of the woman who you legally and illegally stole her youngest son from her? I dont know, I think the demon in me would prefer to see you suffer for as long as possible, so I think I WOULD give you that hand, if for no other reason then to spit in your hypocritical face.

Just think on that one, you will be judged. Can you handle that?

Azathoth Souls - To Jeff

The day this blog began I was in such a low place. I was recently seperated and forcing myself to deal with all the things I had ignored for years. Almost every word I typed into this blog was punctuated with at least one tear. I didnt expect anyone to respond. I didnt think I cared if they did. I was doing it for me, for my heart and soul. Not even a week into posting I got a comment from someone that touched me. I like to think I have an extra sense but I dont think its extra. I think its something we all have, yet most ignore. But when this guy posted on my site, the words werent what shook me. It was the feeling I had in reading his words. The pull of my soul, the pressure in my chest, the feeling that my entire world was for a moment, pulled into this one little post. I suppose I went on and ignored it as most of us do. I didnt think it was going to be a regular thing. I forced ignorance on myself to save myself, as I always do.

A couple days later he posted again.

It wasnt just the words that he used to talk to me. It was the peace it brought me. The compassion and the instructions. the truth and the consequences. It was the notion that the things he said I knew, I just was not willing to give myself the credit he gave me. It was as if he knew me, truly knew me, and not the me I let others see to judge me by. An Azathoth a day kept my demons at bay for quite some time. Until his post I didnt honestly believe that there was a man alive that could really understand. One that was sensitive to my feelings and my world. He held me above water through the entire book I wrote. Without his helping hands I would have drowned in the pain and misery of it all long before I finished it. I kept looking at his post and realizing that they almost directly reflected my exact feelings.

In loving his soul I learned to love my own. They were so similar... I was so hard on myself while praising his every word to me as gold. It took a couple of years but then one day, I sat down to think about this guy. The one who was there for me so long. I had nothing but love for him. His kindness was more then touching, at times it was all I had. And I realized that I reached out to him just as he reached to me. And I learned very very confidently that we WERE alike. And if we were alike. I couldnt be all that bad, because I KNEW he was wonderful.


We use the word love so freely that it dimishes it in my opinion. And sometimes we ignore it to save ourselves some pain. Then again, sometimes we dont really know how intense a feeling is until it is put to a test.

When I read my email today and seen Az taking his leave of blogger, I started crying. It was truly only then that I realized the impact of it all, and how it has affected my own spirit. I can now clearly see that we are not put on this earth with only a mirror image of ourselves. We really are not limited to facing a lifetime of believing that there is only one other soul that is our mate as we strive through the thickest adversities to find them. No, indeed I can see now that this is far from reality. In reality, we come upon dozens, hundreds, thousands of other humans and occasionally for some, rarely for others, do we find another person who our soul is instantly and inexplicably drawn towards. I have met thousands of people face to face and thousands of people online and yet to this day I can still easily name the people who came into my life, who I felt my entire being, the soul and spirit, my very essence drawn to as a moth to a flame. Helplessly, yet so far from hopelessly. I imagine its somewhat of what a death is like, a moment suspended where you are weightless, peaceful and once and for all at home.

I don't pretend to know what is there for us after this life is over. But something in the core of me tells me I know these souls, the ones whom I have an instant affinity with, and that I have known them, held them, loved them, and been with them all along. I have no fear whatsoever that it is the last time I will know them. Sometimes I look for them in every face in a crowd and sometimes I just let myself enjoy their invisible presence in my life.

If you have any trouble recognizing with whom you may share this affinity there is one sure way to know it. You wish for their happiness, you pray for their peace. You never begrudge them anything and hope in your heart for them to have a safe journey even if you know your paths may never cross again. You set them free and let the world guide them, let their souls guide them...

Until we meet again

10th Anniversary

Well my tenth anniversary was Thursday the 29th. I spent it alone, reading a book and snuggled down under my old aztec blanket. Of course you cant get through 10 years of marriage without some bullshit going on. People hurting each other, things being said or done that cant be taken back.... but seriously all of that aside...

What kind of man goes to a neighbors and watches a football game on their tenth anniversary, staggers in wasted just past midnight when the anniversary is over, and passes out in the bed. OH, he doesnt want me to leave out that he DID tell me happy anniversary when he came in at 6pm, and at 8pm he was at the neighbors watching football. His team lost too by the way, and so did he.

Acapella My Soul

More Chris Cornell but this song has gotten me through a lot of mess and trouble in my life. It is a solitary song but one Im sure all of us could have leveled with at one time or another. Some see it as sad and I suppose it can be taken that way, but I see it more as a rite of passage. A man (or woman) who at once realizes their insignificance in the big picture and is coming to terms with it in the way that only a wise person can. Tell me how you take this song Id be interested in knowing how its seen by others.

When this song was first released as a single soundtrack of the movie Singles, it was one of the first 'stand alone' Chris Cornell projects. And this song originally had nothing but the back up guitar in it. This version has a drummer as well, and does not do credit to the original acapella sounding original. Some were mad at him for his break to solo-dom, but I was astonished that any band could have held him down for as long as they did already. Soundgard was and is the only band Ive seen Chris play with that challenged something that seems to come so natural to him. Pure untouchable vocal and musical talent.

I am

No longer will I accept being treated like a low life. No longer will I linger around while you sit anywhere as you are judging me as I am.

Everything about you is hypocrasy. You are not what you claim to be, and you are what you claim you are not. Maybe what you lack is fortitude. If so, I am finding that I can not just give my love to someone who is not even willing to stand up for what THEY believe in, much less support me or protect me in any of my beliefs. I am finding that when I look so deeply into another persons life that I tend to view from a very careful distance their soul as well. Not only do you hide everything about yourself and refuse to share in any moments but your misery, but you also stand at length from me when I bare my soul, or try to give you moments that I do believe in. Defending you, caring for you, caring about seeing that you are taken care of. None of those things that I put little pieces of my soul into seem to matter to you at all. I do not think I am the type of person who can accept that. I have never been anything but straight-forward to you regardless of your accusations or your lack of foresight into the relationship. There is a weakness of character in you that I do not accept nor will I pretend that it is okay with me. Not for you, not for anyone. I seriously would die for my beliefs if driven. You seriously have nothing set in stone for yourself. You proclaim yourself strongly but display yourself arrogantly. There is nothing good or honorable in that in my opinion and I do not think that my mother and father raised me to be so quickly willing to give up on that in people that I want surrounding me, people I want to spend my life with. I am finding that the thought of the loss of that which I consider to be a weakness of spirit, a hollowness of soul, no longer seems a good idea to share my life with, my heart or love or soul. It only creates a burden for me to have to choose between what I believe in or what I love. You would accuse me of being the type of person to use, abuse and take advantage of. You would call me the weak one, but even as I say the following things I know you already know it is true of me, my spirit and my soul while it does not describe one single piece of your character. I am not so afraid to be alone in this world that I would continue to accept spinelessly something unjust or evil done to me or anyone I love without taking a stand, fighting for what I believe in. I am not so in love with my freedom that I would not fight and die, or rot in a prison life term, if I had to kill to protect those I love. My children, my love, my being. I am not so in love with my body that I would not give a life saving organ, take their pain unto myself, carry their burdens if it meant a physical loss or vanity of mine in trade to someone who loved me unconditionally and with honor.

A strong person goes through pain, trauma, and the evil of this world with an empathetic eye. They see the wrongs done to others, they feel their pain, and they refuse to accept the behavior. They refuse to allow it into their lives to spread the evil to others. A weak character sees those same things, and exploits the weaknesses of the strong. Hundreds of beautiful kingdoms have fallen all over history because of just this evil lurking that is your soul, and the souls of all others like you, is pushed upon the souls of others.
You cannot run away from a weakness; you must sometimes fight it out or perish. And if that be so, why not now, and where you stand? Without those who stand and fight, we would all be in apocolyptic peril. Our souls lost long ago. Do you see me running or fighting it? Exactly, and I will fight it until it kills me, or dies itself. Men are taught to apologize for their weaknesses, women for their strengths. I will not apologize for mine. Not at the cost of my life or soul. Ever.

In order to BE this, as this is how I am, I have to either have someone who I can share that with, build that with, and live that with, or I can share nothing at all. I refuse to give of myself what is denied me, dangled before me, or forbidden me because of something in your heart or soul, or something lacking therein. I respect those who show me respect. I honor those who honor me. I give affection to those who give it to me. But along the way should ANY of those people whom I love and honor decide to do something that I can NOT respect, honor or love. Then I shall have to turn a cold heart to that which warms me in order to save myself from things that sicken or weaken my soul. As I can not be someone with the weaknesses my soul can not align, then I can not share any other important parts of my being with them. To do so would make me lesser. To do so would sell my soul. To do so would indeed make me the low life you accuse me of.

Do not preach to my clean spirit your dirt, your evil and your lack of character as no matter how much you do so, you can not make me like you. You can not make me accept things that I reject. You can not make me something I am not. I will not give up my integrity. So now you can understand why life will be as it will be, as something as simple it boils down to is good and evil. Light and Dark. Clean or soiled. If you allow the weaknesses of others to blacken your soul, so be it. Mine will always stand stronger and above those who give in so easily. And never can I show acceptance of any who are lesser. Not even if that should be you.

Chris Cornell for the Q lady and Others who know NOT

Click the link to watch GOD sing.

The lyrics

Hello, I know theres someone out there
Who can understand
And whos feeling the same way as me
Im twenty-four and Ive got everything to live for
But I know now that it wasnt meant to be
cause all has been lost and all has been won
And theres nothing left for us to save
But now I know that I dont want to be alone today
So if you find that youve been feeling just the same

Call me now its alright
Its just the end of the world
You need a friend in the world
cause you cant hide
So call and Ill get right back
If your intentions are pure
Im seeking a friend for the end of the world

Ive got a photograph, Ill send it off today
And you will see that I am perfectly sane
Not for a lifetime or forever and a day
cause we know now that just wont be the case
There will be no commitment and no confessions
And no little secrets to keep
No little children or houses with roses
Just the end of the world and me
cause all has been gone and all has been done
And theres nothing left for us to say
But we could be together as they blow it all away
And we can share in every moment as it breaks

Call me now its alright
Its just the end of the world
You need a friend in the world
cause you cant hide
So call and Ill get right back
If your intentions are pure
Im seeking a friend for the end of the world




One of his best songs ever. But just to get a feel for the man i love, try looking up his version of Ava Maria

For The Q Lady

But all should try it at least once!!

Wild Test Click Link

Your Q Score is: 8
The Q score ideally should be as small as possible, indicating maximum agreement among elements. However, even a tiny Q score may not mean optimal functioning, since all four elements may in fact be relatively undeveloped.

Your Primary Mythical Creature
Air Types
The main strength of the Air types is intellect. The second element indicates the most probable focus for this intellectual activity.

Unicorn
Air with Water

Astrologically associated with Gemini and the Third House

Unicorn types are very concerned with the communication of ideas. They are witty and likeable but can also be quite shy. They are easily bored and easily distracted, and may seem unpredictable and superficial for this reason. Actually they are very deep and are usually trying to find the connections between the people and things around them. They are highly imaginative but not very practical. They love knowledge for its own sake and are not concerned about putting it to use. They are socially astute and sensitive to others’ feelings, but may still appear somewhat aloof. They are drawn to grand schemes for unifying people but these often don’t extend beyond the initial idea. Very logical and rational, Unicorn types are also unconventional and even bizarre. Other people may regard them as fey or just strange.





Your Shadow Creature
Fire Types
All the Fire types have problems relating to anger and aggression. The weakest element indicates the main focus of these problems.

Phoenix
Fire and Earth

This shadow is prone to a sense of stagnation due to lack of motivation and laziness. Nothing durable is ever produced. Practical activities may never be embarked upon. There is an underlying sense of futility and hopelessness. Disillusionment results from their lack of confidence that they can change anything for the better, and in any case they do not have the will. At the same time there is an underlying grandiosity and even megalomania reflected in their dreams and aspirations. They need to feel special. Instead, they may simply overindulge or neglect themselves physically. The biggest obstacle of weak Earth is to overcome self-centeredness and greed; the biggest obstacle of weak Fire is to overcome anger and aggression.

Mystiqattus

Damn Rob
I mean...damn

Living Nightmare

I really just had to post this before I forgot. The miners in Utah in MY opinion have had the utmost and expedient care possible. We dealt with this before with the Sago Mine so I want to make the differences, from my research as clear as possible so no one thinks Im unfeeling or dismissive of the Utah crew. Before I go there I want to express my opinion about the reason why Mining disasters grab our attention so quickly and thoroughly. Being buried undergroud is a very common yet inexplicable fear for most everyone. So just the thought of it could leave some with a lingering sense of terror, absolute desperation. The 'what would I do??' thoughts.

Well now I hear the families are complaining that the rescuers had 'given up', that they were stealing their last shread of hope. There are some massive differences here so Id like to know what others think about it, what if that were YOU, what if that were your father, brother, husband, son?

In Sago
The explosion was caused by what miners know as methane ignitions, its a gas found in all mines and below the surface of the earth. Some in concentration, normally depending on the depth. The lower you go, the less oxygen concetrate. An explosion can also mean the release of deadly carbon monoxide. The miners who were trained on how to react did what they were taught. They built a barrier between them and the possible flow of poisonous gases. The settled down and tried to remain calm. They had lost communications with the surface on the explosion. 4 of the 12 emergency breathing apparatus failed so that the men below had to share their oxygen with others, possibly cutting down on their survival time. These men know that the gas concentration can be so strong that 10 seconds in it can cause a speedy death. (after 5 second you will lose motor control, fall down, thus elimnating chance of escape) Although apparently the gas concentration there wasnt staggering, it was enough to kill the older gentlemen, perhaps youth and health were the reason for the one survivor, Randall McCloy, who barely made it out alive. The entire disaster lasted 3 days, from explosion to location of the trapped miners. The miners, 11 dead and one alive 41 hours later were found. I highly doubt without the erection of the barrier if even McCloy would have survived. The explosion itself wasnt reported in the required MSHA 15 minutes as it was supposed to be. Rescue teams didnt enter the mines until 11 hours later. Equipment these men trusted their lives to failed them in their time of need. This entire story here tells me that were I a family member or a miner in that hole, yes I would have indeed been pissed at the way this disaster was handled, from safety to the late report of the explosion. Remember now, 41 hours, 11 dead, 1 alive but requiring months, perhaps years of rehabilitation. The saddest part, the part that isnt advertised a whole lot, is that had these miners had communications from the outside, all 12, even with being shorted on their respirators, could have simply walked out. There was no blockage to stop them. Communication would have made it that simple. Man-made failure, not mother nature.

In Utah
I was seriously impressed with the reaction time to the 6 being lost in the shift caused by these mountains, far younger then the appalachains the WVA miners work in, that are not as stable and much more prone to shifting as they sit on a tetonic plate referred to by experts as somewhat of a cork bobbing on water. Safe, yet not quite. Of course, even I laughed when Murray kept claiming that it was an earthquake that caused the cave in and not vice versa. In my opinion that conversation would be limited to the hours after the miners were brought up, dead or alive. We dont care what caused it, we just want them back. Time is the enemy in a mine rescue, everything has to go just right and then you have to rely on a healthy helping of luck. The depth of the Sago miners had almost everything to do with the quickness of rescue as well as the survival of the one miner. When the Sago miners went to work they went two miles in, not deep. They were working within a deep system of mountains that allowed them to go in further as opposed to having to dig down. With the miners being about 2 miles IN at Sago and the Utah miners being about 1 mile down there is a significant difference in the way to rescue as well as the possibility of it. With mines its easy to understand that new mountains or old mountains, the more you mine, the deeper you dig, the more risk you are creating for the mountain to have to settle.

Almost from the point of the tremor in Utah that trapped the 6, rescue operations began. They began drilling holes from the top down, through nearly a mile of rock, as well as burrowing through the collapse to reach them directly. The chances are just not the same with these miners being down for so very long, so very deep, when the Sago mine tells us that those two factors were the only reason we pulled one out still alive. When rescuers, who are really just for the most part the same miners, with a little MSHA professional disaster help, are dying to get to people whose chances of survival at this point are very very slim, then Im sorry, I mean that, I am deeply sorry but its time to stop. We dont throw live bodies at dead ones just to give them a funeral, just to gain closure for the original six's familys, only to create more sorrow, more missing daddys, we just cant.

I think this recent disaster in Utah brought a couple of things to my plate. To begin with in those first few days I prayed, something I havent done since I can remember. Really prayed, really hoped someone would hear. I wanted a god or a creator to pull those men out safe and sound, or I wanted to know they went peacefully, I wanted them to have, as sad as it may be, drifted off into the peaceful sleep of oxygen deprivation, as opposed to cowering below a mile of rock waiting to die.

One thing people have to stop doing is running on some natural assumption that these 'poor miners' dont know whats going on until the disaster occurs. That the money they make isnt worth the risk. No one on earth knows this more then the miners themselves. They take these jobs because where they live its the alternative to the minimum wage jobs of fast food and production. They take these 25+ dollars an hour jobs to support their families and still have time left to spend with them. They know the rules, they know the more they dig the more there is a chance of disaster. No one is holding them there, no one makes them go in kicking and screaming. And when moderated and supervised this country has the ability to make the miners in the USA the safest miners in the world with our technology and knowledge, things not available to other countrys.

By mid year 2006 West Va, one of the biggest mining states, had lost approximately 20 miners. In 2006 in China, the offical poll was that around 5,000 miners had perished in mines all over their country. Unoffical polls who are run by human interest groups say the real number in which actual deaths are covered up and paid off, is far closer to 20,000 a year then 5,000.

If that doesnt prove we have the technology and are willing to actually USE it to save the lives of our fellow countrymen, then I am not sure what does.

Of course, and most likely just like those Utah families I sincerely hope that they will find some very lucky, miraculously lucky miners hidden away down there in a pocket of air. Its just that the chance of that is slimmer then survival in a lot of other types of disasters. And my sympathys will be with those families if they do not. But I really dont want to hear about how they are angry the rescue operation was given up inside the tunnels. I dont want to see more miners die at such a slim chance of hope at this point. People who are selfless, anyone who has lost someone to a tragedy or a disaster of this nature, they usually will agree too. If this happened to my father, and he was found dead and entombed months later, which is likely to be the case in Utah, I wouldnt want to know that I had urged even ONE person to their death because of my loss.

I hope they try to find peace. Until then there remains hope, just slimmer then most.

Dark Ages

Check out my Dark Ages profile!

Neato!~