Another Turning Point, A Fork Stuck in the Road

I'm not sure why hes landed on my mind again. Maybe it's because regardless of what anyone believes, I know I have a heightened perception that others may not have, or at least refuse to believe they do, while just assuming life is a series of coincidences, which is very well may still be, but hes there, lurking in my mind. You know how I know he's there? I don't see him, I don't even know if I FEEL him there, its more like, part of his being becomes part of my own. And no, I'm not on drugs that should cause that. What I mean is the suddenly I'm watching Green Day and Sublime videos on youtube, these are not commonly bands I would ever listen to on youtube. I try to reserve that for shit I REALLY like.

More than all of that. I've found myself missing him just intensely and being once again annoyed when people squabble over the petty shit in life. But in all of my wonderings, I never put him back on earth, as in 'what would he be doing now if he were alive', I've long ago come to terms with the fact that he isn't, but there are days when it seems like I feel his very own mischievous spirit coming through, urging me to speed a few seconds if it makes me feel good, telling me to go ahead and drink that beer just for the hell of it. Things that are so out of character for me, but so him.

Maybe there is something we do or go through that can 'call them back from time to time' and there is always the old notion that just before someone dies they begin to see or feel manifestations from the other side, scary thought I know, but there it is.

I read an article today by an Oprah show writer about whether people believe or not that their long dead relatives, friends or even pets come to walk them to the other side, and I'll be honest some of that freaked me out a bit too, things about how spirits usually manifest in corners really floored me considering the whole year I spent post Steves death with something in the corner scaring me bad enough to sleep with the lights on as a grown woman with 2 small children.

And all I could think once I finished that article was damn good article buddy. but I'm here to tell you, that you don't have to be on your way to dying to get a visit.

Icey Volcanos

Okay I'm no conspiracy theorist, but this shit is getting deep. It's time to start seriously taking a look at the HAARP project. Seriously.

Sensing the Good

I don't know if it is a god given gift, one that we all have but some can't tap into, or just an awareness that is given to some as a gift or a burden, theirs to chose which to make of it. But in some of us the view of the rightfully good is permanently a front row seating arrangement. And for the same of us, the inherent evil of something permeates the air around them before our eyes as well. For some so implanted with this seemingly extra sense, it can be a dreadful curse until we learn to accept the power of it and the potential blind wisdom in it. Although the landscape of the human world has changed drastically in the last few hundred years and is sure to change in inconceivable ways in as much future, some things do remain the same. These parts of our human history are doomed to repeat themselves and only the lucky ones can live in blissful ignorance of all of the above. Especially in our ancient times did our ancestors hold much more simple titles. There were no secretaries, but there were scribes, there were no doctors, but there were healers (Beth), there were no yogo teachers, but there were very wise females who taught others how to harness the power and the peace of mother earth itself (Kuan), there were no presidents of companies but there were wise men whom others would always stop to consider their words before acting on the important phases of their lives (Jeff & Dan), and last but not least there were the warriors among us (Dave), who honed their bodies and their skills to protect all of the above manners of life that contributed to the greater good, as well as to keep in check the evil that lurks among us at most every turn in the road. I think it does a disservice to us to forget our primitive or primeval services to the earth and one another. When all of the ugly is so plain to see, it takes that once cherished blissful ignorance and makes a mockery of it when compared to the ability to sense the good in a hazy cloud full of disaster and evil. I suppose the warriors and the scribes, the healers and the teachers, the wise men and the seekers will always continue to come in many different time appropriate forms. But the ability to sense the good deep within will never provide a different effect on the ones who feel it, who know it. Whether it be the warm feeling of sunshine on your face when you are still inside, or the cold cringing flinch you feel when evil is about that you perceive, it is the perception of it that makes it a solid and realistic thing. If you can put yourself in a place where you do not refer to people in their current titles and career choices, or their familiarity with families or a certain lifestyle, and just see them for what their primitive place on the early earth would have been, it makes sensing the good or the aura of evil easier by the 100 fold.

Okay no one send me messages asking if Im on some kind of new meds or anything. This is one of my crazy trains of thought I get when trying to force myself to sleep and so I never get up and write it. Tonight I got up and wrote it, so sue me.

For Steven and Alyx

And even though the moment passed me by
I still can't turn away
Cause all the dreams you never thought you'd lose
Got tossed along the way
And letters that you never meant to send
Get lost or thrown away

And now we're grown up orphans
That never knew their names
We don't belong to no one
That's a shame
But if you could hide beside me
Maybe for a while
And I won't tell no one your name

And I won't tell em your name

Scars are souvenirs you never lose
The past is never far
Did you lose yourself somewhere out there
Did you get to be a star
And don't it make you sad to know that life
Is more than who we are

You grew up way too fast
And now there's nothing to believe
And reruns all become our history
A tired song keeps playing on a tired radio
And I won't tell no one your name
And I won't tell em your name

I think about you all the time
But I don't need the same
It's lonely where you are come back down
And I won't tell em your name

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.