….why paisley???

Hiding place by ~Jcandres on deviantART

currently, i am researching a full length fiction piece that i have never intended to post here,, (mainly because i feel reading full length pieces online is tedious, and i would not expect you to do so) and more than likely, given my track record of non-submission,, i will not “send out” either.. i am writing it strictly to see if i can do it.. if i can follow it thru,, if i can collect it,, contrive it,, compile it,, and complete it..

my project is based on a short story i shared with you months ago,, entitled, her boy.. it is the story of a woman of dubious past, tried and convicted by the media,, of a heinous crime she did not commit..  it is a project that has had me stepping outside of my comfort zone and writing about something with which i have no first hand experience.. it is a project that involves research and a mobilization of emotions that i have not personally experienced,, and since my niche in writing is quite confessional,, being, thinking, and acting, for someone outside of myself requires a lot of investigative research..

my foray into researching this project has had me dabbling in something in which i would not ordinarily dabble,, and that is the cold, hard, world of another’s reality.. i prefer the warm, fuzzy, comfort of my world.. my little corner… a place where everything is mine and runs in a fashion that i prescribe for it.. a tiny little sector of life inhabited by one woman, two dogs, and the occasional walk on part by a generous old man or a distant family member… but for the most part my world is mine.. alone..

in researching the subject matter for this piece,, i have been carried off into a world of the unimaginable.. i have read, and continue to read, account after account of those caught up in the criminal justice system thru no real fault of their own.. people just like you and i, that are living thru their own personal hell because no one wants to accept the fact that something as powerful and all consuming as the criminal justice system might be broken..

as i delve ever deeper into the case histories, “meet” the people involved,, review the trial transcripts,, i am given to wonder,, of what consequence is my writing a piece of fiction about a woman that doesn’t really exist, being incarcerated for an imagined crime?? could not my desire to research and write about such atrocities be put to better use?? where exactly does creating works of fiction and crafting cleverly worded poems fit into the grander scheme of things?? should i seek out the opportunity to write on a subject that “matters” ?? or continue writing,, just to see if i can???

very simply,, i am drawn toward making something real come from my efforts.. something that matters.. something that makes a difference.. for me it has always been about the words, their power, their authority, the feeling of control i have when they string themselves together in such a way as to replicate,, feeling,, emotion,, life… their ability to carry me along,, drag me,, toss and turn me,,  using them in a such way as to compel you to feel what i am feeling…

yet,, i cannot help but wonder,  if perhaps my desire to string together the words in such a way,,, could not be put to better use.. what if i could cause you to feel what i am feeling,, and together we could make a difference?? even if it was a very small difference,, say in the life of one person neither of us will ever really know???

immersing myself in another’s reality for the past few weeks has caused me to reexamine my motivations.. to question the hours that i am willing to spend orchestrating pretty words… to wonder if perhaps this place called …why paisley??? has not been just a hiding place,, all along…..

Immersed In Her Garden by ~Very-Old-Geezer on deviantART

just dropping in to let you all know i am immersed in reading and research at the moment and just haven’t had the time or the inclination to create… this is the first time in nearly two years i have had something really pique my interest enough to really delve in,, and i am running with it…

thanks for your indulging me this…. be back soon…….

The Lord of the Flies by yac0b on deviantart

while i was researching further, information concerning the case of troy anthony davis,, i came across a web site for an in print news paper by the name of the socialist worker.. i was quite impressed that this paper was not only covering troy’s scheduled execution,, and the stay of execution as it was ordered,, but that they had been following the case,, and reporting on it faithfully as news became available.. as i continued reading i noticed that they have also been following the cases of others,, who like troy have been wrongly imprisoned,, and are seeking the justice that is supposed to be our ‘birthright’ according to the constitution….

due to the fact that i could find no other national news paper that had followed the case with such ferver,, i was interested in finding out just who these socialists are.. now given the fact that i do not know the basic differences between a democrat and a republican, even in theory,, it should come as no surprise that i am completely unclear on what it means to consider ones self a socialist…

what i found was that socialists claim to believe that socialism is a new social and economic order in which workers and consumers control production and community residents control their neighborhoods, homes, and schools. The production of society is used for the benefit of all humanity, not for the private profit of a few. and i have to admit,, that to me,, that statement as it stands on its own,, sounded quite reasonable….

however,,  as i read further,, it became evident that the socialist party also believes that only way such a regime could ever come into power,, is by way of a revolution to over throw the current government… i have to admit that stopped me in my tracks.. oh no.. huh uh.. i am not now,, nor have i ever been,, all about a revolution..

i for one have always been leary of anything that even smells like man has had his hands on it… (read: religion, politics) i guess i equate any form of “governing authority” with the  ‘lord of the flies’ mentality that i truly believe men who seek power embrace,, and that in itself has always succeeded in sending me running in the opposite direction…

however this morning,, as i sit here and i think about all the shit that is going on right this moment, the war.. the bailout.. the plunging of the dow.. the failing economy.. the mortgage fiasco,, just to name a few of the events currently garnering front page positions in the news… i can not help but wonder if perhaps a revolution is the only way we will ever regain any form of control over our own way of life…

it is evident that elected officials have no real say.. it is apparent that as individuals we can do little more than bitch, moan, and complain as we blame it on the elected officials.. meanwhile,,  it is becoming increasingly manifest that a purely capitalist society, when taken to the extreme, (and we as americans seem to know no other way) will chew up and spit out the working class in order to keep the ruling class afloat……

in conclusion,,  i guess am asking you to share with me,, if you will,, your thoughts on the matter… should we be talking about a revolution???? is over throw the way to go?? or do we just continue to tread water,, hoping beyond hope that some elected official will come along,, and single handedly save us all???

i, for one,,  honestly do not know….

UPDATE!!!!!!

U.S. SUPERME COURT STAYS GEORGIA EXECUTION

this just in from Laura Kagel at Georgians for Alternatives to the Death Penalty:

We will know on Monday whether the Supreme Court will hear his appeal or if the execution will go forward. Check www.gfadp.org and www.troyanthonydavis.org for updates.

******

many of you may have read my recent post entitled forensic innocence in which i brought to your attention the number of individuals currently caught in the tangled web of the united states justice/correctional system that not only continue to proclaim their innocence,, but who could be,, and are being,, exonerated due to the presence of forensic evidence that will in fact prove that they are innocent of the crimes that they have been wrongfully convicted  of by our faulty/over zealous judicial system….

today i would like to bring your attention to a case in which unfortunately,, no such forensic evidence is available.. that of troy anthony davis, a black man,, convicted of killing a white police officer seventeen years ago in savannah, georgia… there was no physical evidence brought to light in the trial.. none.. thus the unavailability of forensic evidence to prove or deny his innocence at this late date… mr davis was convicted, strictly on what has come to be know as “eyewitness testimony”..   to date 7 of the 9 non corrections witnesses for the prosecution,, have recanted their testimony,, many stating “in sworn affidavits that they were pressured or coerced by police into testifying or signing statements against Troy Davis.”

and yet he is scheduled for execution today at 7PM eastern…. “how could that be???” you ask yourself.. (and if you are not,, i highly suggest you should be…)

rethabile masilo, the author of one of my favorite poetry (and much much more!!!!) sites on the web, poefrica,, brought this insanity to my attention just this morning.. he suggested that we write what has commonly come to be known as an american sentence a (17 syllable (often political) statement) “for troy, or about the failure of the justice system in the United States, and post it today on your blog. It may not save Troy from death, but it may raise some awareness about what is wrong with the picture of people dying for no reason.” he also sited numerous links to sites that have written posts in the recent past trying  to bring troys case to the fore of the public consciousness…

as i read thru all of the posts i could not help but remember the immortal words spoken first by Martin Niemöller, in his poem, “first they came….”

First they came for the Socialists, and I did not speak out -
because I was not a Socialist.

Then they came for the Trade Unionists, and I did not speak out -
because I was not a Trade Unionist.

Then they came for the Jews, and I did not speak out -
because I was not a Jew.

Then they came for me - and there was no one left to speak for me.

i for one, am truly ashamed i was unaware of this case until today..  i find my ignorance unacceptable.. i might not be able to do more today,, or more for troy,, but i am going to spend some real time over the course of the next few days reading and assimilating information on the subject of wrongful death in the american justice system..  i can no longer deny the kinship i feel to those men and woman that stand wrongfully accused.. the time has come for me to get involved..

i believe the only real entitlement we as humans can lay claim to at birth,, is a little something called common sense..  and as i employ mine,,  it becomes increasingly impossible for me not to realize that given the right set of circumstances,,  it could (and very well might some day) be me,, for which they come…..

******

my american sentance entitled, a fair trial…. is now available on  just paisley……

just a few of life’s dirty little secrets…..

Silence is Acceptance by ~coordinated-paranoia on deviantART

* chances are, you will be married to another, by the time you realize you have indeed gazed into the eyes of your one true love….

* the majority of what truly makes life worth living, becomes visible, only in hindsight….

* there is no safer place to hide a god fearing mans sexual deviancy,, than in the priesthood….

* when you are convinced you have god on your side,, it is pretty damn hard not to be right all the time….

* more often than not,, the truth,, is what lies lost on the cutting room floor…

* power, of itself,, is a deflated balloon,, who’s proportion is directly related to how much of yourself,, you are willing to blow onto it….

********

if you have yet to join me over on secret… secret… i’ve got a secret… you are cordially invited to do so……

the time is right for a bit of fiction…..

Clock by ~LadyDementorette on deviantART

bawk- bawk- bawk- bawk- on mornings like this, when two poorly insulated 1/2 inch sheets of drywall was all that separated the headboard of his bed from the blaring alarm clock in the adjacent apartment,,  james secretly cursed the rental agent that had left he and janie alone in the apartment long enough for janie to slip her panties into her handbag, and him into her, atop the current ‘must have’ for every modern housewife,, the olive green enameled, fully automatic dishwasher…

denying his first impulse,, which was to beat unceasingly on the flimsy paneled wall and yell “shut that damn thing off!!!” at the top of his lungs until someone in apartment 204 was as irritatingly awake at 7:00 am on a saturday morning as he was,,  he placated himself by placing one foot in front of the other on the harvest gold shag carpet and setting course for the conveniently located adjoining bathroom instead…

he could tell his janie was already in the kitchen.. the tell tale scents of a new day roused him as he leaned heavily against the wall behind the toilet with one hand and did his best to aim from memory with the other… “how does she do that?? always get up in plenty of time to have the coffee perking and the bacon frying before my feet ever hit the floor?” james wondered as he shuddered, shook, and snapped the elastic waistband of his white jockey style briefs back into place…

the bawk- bawk- bawk- bawk- of the neighbors alarm clock, though still audible,, grew fainter as he stumbled down the hall and nearer the kitchen where it was pleasingly replaced by janie singing along with simon and garfunkle’s,, the boxer, as it emanated from the transistor radio on the kitchen window sill…

“morning baby..” janie chirped,,  her back still to him,, busily scrambling the eggs that were soon to magically be transformed into a fluffy denver omelet loaded with thick, creamy, melted, american cheese,, his saturday morning reward for having lived thru yet another week of pop tarts consumed over the steering wheel…

he slipped in behind janie,, her warm, soft, body molding instantly to him.. instinctively he rolled his hips against her,, the smooth white cotton of his briefs gliding effortlessly into place against the softly quilted rayon finish of her pale pink, floor length gown.. he buried his face in the nape of her neck and inhaled deeply, savoring the remnants of jean naté body splash as it intermingled with the musky traces his love had left on her satiny smooth skin the night before…

just as james was exhaling his warm contented breath into the heaven that was his janie’s sweet, soft, shoulder,, the radio, having evidently lost its signal, began broadcasting a shrill screaming “WAAAAAAAAAAA” sound that instantly ended the tender moment and sent james scrambling to grab the hand held transistor from the window sill..

he turned the volume knob into the off position.. nothing.. the “WAAAAAAAAAAA” continued.. “i cant shut it off!!”  james screamed in an effort to be heard over the high decibel din, as he struggled to pop the cover off the compartment that housed the 9-volt battery on the backside of the radio.. as he yanked the battery free from the red and black cables that secured it into the battery compartment,, a rush of electricity unlike any he ever imagined could possibly be generated by a single 9-volt battery,, ran up his arm and landed with a thud in his chest…

“we’re losing him!!” the lead EMT on the scene called out in hopes of drowning out the exuberance of the young marine as he correctly solved the word puzzle on tonight’s episode of wheel of fortune and shouted out in knowing victory over the silence of the studio audience,,  “the boxer by simon and garfunkle!!” followed by a raucous round of applause… “clear!!” the desperate EMT called out as yet another wave of molten electricity found its way into james’ thoracic cavity..

it hit with such force that it fired the 9 volt battery out of james’ hand as if it had been blasted from the muzzle of a high caliber hand gun, and dropped him immediately unconscious.. he hit the sparkling no wax linoleum floor in the kitchen,, with a clunk ..

“i’m calling it… 7:54 am… what’s the date today anyway?” inquired the sleep deprived, on call emergency room physician… “9-16-08″ retorted the emotionless shift nurse as she flipped the switch and silenced forever the cursed screeching alarm on the heart monitor…

janie cradled james in her arms.. “you scared the shit outta me, baby.. oh my baby.. my sweet baby james… are you all right?? are you all right, baby??? janie asked rapid fire questions,, still in shock over what had just happened..  “what day is it??”

“september..”  james said,, slowly and carefully as he rubbed his eyes and tried to think… september,, the 16th,, i think…” james stammered a bit before continuing,, “september, the 16th,,, 1973…”

“good.. good.. oh,, thank god..” said janie her words intermingled with a heartfelt sigh of relief.. “and who’s the president??” she asked almost rhetorically, as that’s what they always asked the people that fell unconscious on emergency…

“richard milhouse nixon”  james stated matter of factly,, his voice unwavering at last… in silence,, they remained there for quite some time,, on the cool linoleum floor,, janie slowly rocking james in her arms..

“hey,,”  james said, finally breaking the deadening silence, as he wiped the remnant of a tiny teardrop from janie’s cheek,, “i guess they finally shut that god damn alarm clock off,, huh????”

“Things are not always what they seem; the first appearance deceives many; the intelligence of a few perceives what has been carefully hidden.” -
–  The Phaedrus, written by Plato

Creepy Optical Illusion by ~cchasecal on deviantART

not so many years ago,, i was working as a waitress in a small, family owned, diner style, restaurant. living in a tiny basement studio,, and squandering my meager income on frivolities like food and basic utilities.. at that precise moment in history,  the country in which i live, was spinning like a brightly colored child’s top, giddy with delusions of grandeur made possible by the boom in the housing market, the introduction of sub prime loans, the staggering rate at which property values were soaring..

meanwhile,, i was standing there,, in a dirty apron,,  coffee pots hanging off both my thumbs saying.. ” i give it five years,, and this whole thing will implode.. the market will be flooded with foreclosures, displaced families, bankruptcies, and as a result an explosion of homeless people,, (many of them the the same young families and greedy investors that were here in being blinded by the possibility of finally being able to ace what we have been raised to believe was, “the  american dream….” ) that we are in no way equipped to care for, will be flooding our streets and overburdening our social service institutions..”

i cannot tell you how many times, since then, i have stated, either aloud in conversation, or in private to myself,, “how come i,, a lowly diner waitress,, with barely a high school education was able to see that??” “how is it that the financiers, bankers, economists, politicians, government officials,, people we would ordinarily expect to be able to ‘foresee’ our financial futures, not only allowed something like that to happen,, but in many cases jumped on the soon to be sinking bandwagon themselves??”

the only answer i can, to date come up with, is that i was not in a position to glean any of the purposed riches that would surely follow closely on the shirttails of such a windfall of real estate investments.. i was not blinded by the possibilities.. my situation left no room for the entertainment of such delusions of grandeur and thus my field of vision was impossible to misdirect..

on several occasions over the course of my maintaining this blog,, i have written in both my poetry and my prose about the misdirection of focus i see going on… ( homeless, distraction, food fight, sleight of hand, “sustain me!”) so, why am i still so amazed that when these illusions are pointed out,, that the majority of people will,, much like cattle being led to the slaughter,,  rally to the defense of that which has been purposely put in place to delude them,, in lieu of pulling back the blinders and having another look??

i am not a person given to unfounded feelings of paranoia.. i do not prescribe to any vastly ornate conspiracy theories… i am not a believer in evil forces, manchurian candidates, or things that go bump in the night… i am far from highly educated,, and not even as creative as some of you might like to think… but for some reason, one that remains devastatingly outside of my own control, i am blessed with being able to see what is going on right in front of me..

my fascination with pointing things out to you as i see them,, is in no way driven by a desire to convert you to my way of thinking.. i don’t even have a way of thinking to convert to.. rather my objective is to plant the seed of discovery.. to get you to question what you do see.. to point you in a direction that might allow you to become willing to see, that which has been put in place solely to misdirect you from that which you should not be seeing.. and to wonder,, if only over the course of this one day, if what you are focusing on is whats really important,, or have you thru no real fault of your own,, been misdirected….

- The Greatest Show on Earth - by *impurfektion on deviantART

ordinarily,, i would avoid politics like the plague i believe it to be.. however,  i feel that there is a sociological aspect of the election campaign we are now embroiled in that has as of yet (at least in the sector of the blogsphere that i frequent) failed to have been addressed.. and i for one feel the need to bring a voice to it..

come november,, no matter which party’s presidential ticket wins the election,, america will be adding a significant page to its own history.. we will either have a woman,, or a black man, ‘in the white house’.. at first glance one might be quick to assume, that either of these deviations from the norm should, at least in theory,, be a good thing.. after all,, regardless of the outcome,, precedent is being set.. from this election forward,, we will never be in the position of not having had either a woman, or a black man, ‘in the white house’.. we are outwardly forcing ourselves as a nation to ‘come of age’ in terms of the manifestation of our support for either,  sexual equality,, or racial diversity…. and although the inner rebel in me wants to cry out,, “it’s about fucking time!!!” i feel forced to curb my enthusiasm…. why??

let me see if i can explain.. i feel, we as americans outwardly talk a lot of smack about racial and cultural diversity.. whereas we would like to think (read: cause others to think) that we have undergone a genuine change in our societal attitudes,, the change, if in fact one has taken place at all,, could more correctly be referred to as a grammatical change.. the imposition of ‘politically correct’ lingo has lulled us into a false sense of acceptance.. we honestly want to believe that since we are no longer as verbally viral,, that a change has taken place in our hearts… and i for one am not afraid to point my finger at not only white america,, but black, latino and asian america as well and ask,, “who the hell do you think you’re kidding?”

i could go on to site instances and examples to strengthen the emotion behind why i feel this way,, i believe it would be wiser to simply admonish each of you to examine your own heart.. examine the community in which you live.. examine the way that you observe those of your own race interacting amongst themselves,, when they are not within earshot of anyone that they feel will hold them morally responsible for the terminology that they choose to employ.. and then come back here and tell me how racially and/or culturally diverse america has become… i’ll wait here…

with that being said,, i think whether or not barack obama is the man most qualified to hold the position of forty-fourth president of the united states of america or not,, is a moot point.. he is a black man.. and as far as i am concerned if he wins the election,, he will do so, based solely on that fact.. those that stand behind him,, stand behind him because he is a black man.. and while i do acquiesce that there are those that have sworn their allegiance to the democratic party,, and will vote in unison with the party no matter who they offer as a candidate,, i would venture to guess that the majority of his supporters will vote for him, simply because he is, a black man.. some will do so in an attempt to proudly display their supreme level of racial acceptance.. while others will do so solely to support the race into which they were born.. in either case,, his politics,, his ’stand on the issues’,, his background,, and his experience,, need not even enter into the picture..

and then we have the stalwart picture that the republican party has attempted to paint of john mccain,, and the media frenzy that surrounds his choice of vice presidential candidate,, sarah palin… in what i feel was a brilliant move on the part of the republican party,, they nominated a woman as vice president, thus establishing a comfort zone for the self indulgent political liberals that want to strut their diversity,, but just cannot bring themselves to vote for a black man.. hey,, now they can vote for a white woman,, and isn’t that the next best thing??

meanwhile,, and seemingly through some slight of hand,, mccain has successfully taken the spotlight off himself,, his politics,, his ’stand on the issues’,, his background,, his level of experience,, and stands smiling in the wings as he watches the media devour the virtually unknown MILF that he is dangling before them like a pheromone scented hook(er) …

in conclusion,, while i will be the first to admit,, that i do not know much about politics,,  i would like to believe i know a little bit about human behavior.. and from what i have seen thus far, i find it diffuicult to believe, that i am the only one that is looking on in horror, as the victor of this political freak show threatens to become the commander in chief of the country i call my home…. i think the mockery of human intelligence we have come to call the presidential election, has reached an all time low.. and i for one, am proud to say, that i will not be rewarding either party’s bad behavior,, with my vote…

there is an overwhelming sense of responsibility that accompanies the desire to live..

Crossroads by ryucloud at deviantart

lately it has occurred to me,, that if i ever do decide to take an active part in my own life,,  it will be necessary for me to venture out of my comfort zone into areas of life which, until recently,  i have seen fit to ignore even in theory…..

as you know,, i am quite centered on my desire to heal and grow emotionally.. in fact,, i have put what might even be called an unhealthy amount of time and effort into delving into myself,, getting to know myself,, and understanding who exactly it is i have become.. and why…

that fascination has not however, extended to my physical being..  i am begining to understand,, that  no matter how healthy i am psychologically,, emotionally,, or spiritually,, it will all be to no avail if i do not do what i know i need to do for myself physically… i mean,, wouldn’t it be ironic if i were to finally attain true inner peace,, decide that life is all sunshine and roses,, regain a lust for living,, finally find myself willing to play an active part in my own life,,,  only to find out my physical body is falling apart???

in the past year or so i have suffered a serious bout of bronchitis,, a painful back injury,, and abscessed tooth,, and in general,, a sense of malaise.. now i have never gotten old before,, so i cannot say this is not all just a part of the natural aging process,, but i do know that i have put zero effort into maintaining my physical health…

i also know that i was diagnosed with chronic hepatitis c in 2000.. at that time i was informed that i have been exposed to hepatitis b as well, and although i do not carry that virus,, having been exposed to it further compromises my liver.. soon after my diagnosis, however,, my viral load was minimal,, i had a liver biopsy,, everything was seemingly fine,, so i just blew it off.. i never went back to the doctor.. i never sought treatment.. since i rarely drink alcohol and haven’t actively done drugs in many years,, i did not see fit to alter my lifestyle in any way,, i just kind of put it in the back of my head and told myself it didn’t really matter,, as i really wasn’t all that attached to living anyway….

so i guess that today, i find myself at a crossroads of sorts… do i continue to turn a blind eye and just hope for the best?? do i do my bloods and at least find out where i am in the spectrum of things?? if i find out it is warranted,, do i engage in a form of treatment that might or might not irradiate the virus, knowing full well i have no insurance and no means of payment for said treatment??? and if i should choose to do so,, would putting myself behind the financial eight ball so to speak be any healthier, in the long run, than just ignoring the problem to begin with?? does actively seeking spiritual and or emotional growth while totally ignoring the physical body seem to you as hypocritical as it seems to me?? i guess if i knew the answers to these questions i wouldn’t be posing them would i??

i dont even know why i am throwing all of this out there.. i do know,, that even though i am not ready to make a concrete decision,, a year or so ago i was content to exist,, simply because my body refused to cease functioning… so i guess in its own weird way,, even thinking about weighing out the options is a good thing….

strange isn’t it,, how it is when you least expect it,,, life’s little profundities will make themselves available to you?? why just this morning,, as i opened the front cover of a book, written by sue monk kidd, called the mermaids chair,, a line in the second paragraph of the prologue hit so close to home, it literally took my breath away…

‘they say you can bear anything if you can tell a story about it.’

bleed like me by *kidchan on deviantART

due to the expository essence that i employ in the majority of my writing,, it should come as no surprise, that i have attracted quite a number of readers who, much like me,  find themselves actively waging war with their own inner demons.. people who are trying desperately to collect up all the little fragments of their being and create something,, while not quite whole,, perhaps,, not so devastatingly broken either…

after all,, as human beings, we are pack animals.. our level of intelligence separates us in some ways from our animal counterparts in that it allows us to rise above the pack into which we are born,, and use our ability to reason in seeking out a ‘like pack’.. more often than not, we seek out one that mirrors who we see ourselves to be,, or who we dream that someday,, we might become..

in my case,, and i would venture to say in the case of many of those that find themselves drawn to the confessional quality of my writing,, it is not uncommon that we seek out those that we percieve as being sufficiently more broken than we are. doing so not only allows us to feel as if there is a segment of society into which we truly fit,, but it creates (if only) the illusion,, that there are those that are worse off than we are..

and sometimes,, when we find ourselves standing toe to toe with someone we believe has strayed just a little further,, has delved just a little bit deeper,, has emerged just a little bit dirtier,, we are able to see ourselves in a just enough of a different light,, that it can give us the courage we thought we would never have to begin the process of forgiving ourselves,, and moving on…

in much the same way that stepping onto the scale only to find out that you have, lost five of those pounds you have been telling yourself forever you could not loose,, will often spur you into embracing a healthier eating regiment in order to maintain the desired downward spiral in your physical weight,, sometimes that sliver of superiority that we see in ourselves as we stand in the shadow of someone that we feel is just that much more errant than we are,,  can empower us to discard some of  the emotional baggage we have been carrying around with us.. to shed the dirty little pieces of ourselves that we know are prohibiting us from moving on,, and yet have not been able to summon the strength to leave behind..

back in july of last year,, i wrote a post called bleed.. i wrote the post as a call to action for those of you that read me in an effort to alleviate the guilt based pain you are feeling.. for those of you that see in me,, something just that much more grotesque, than that which you see in yourself.. for those of you that look to me,, to provide the shadow from which you might emerge with that sliver of salvation..

i did so at the time out of selfishness,, as i was still grasping at straws,, still seeking my own salvation,, still trying to force into some semblance of order,, all that i have been,,  still striving to find somewhere that i belonged,, still searching for the shadow from which i could emerge with a splinter of superiority… i did so because i needed you,, just as much as i felt you needed me..

it was not until this morning,,, as i read those words so poignantly penned by sue monk kid,, ‘they say you can bear anything if you can tell a story about it.’ that i realized it has always been for me that i bleed.. for me that i have poured myself onto the page.. for me that i have remained unashamed as i stood here before you bare, and broken.. for me.. for me.. for me..

and while i would never begrudge anyone of you the opportunity to see in me,, that which only by the grace of god, you yourself have not become,, i know now,, that the only one that can ever truly emerge from the shadow of the depths of my soul,, is me.