Almost Christmas...

And now it is gone. Done. Over with for another 365 days. Why do I dislike the holidays? To be certain I always have. And it is always brimming full of tragic events, death and unhappiness. This is why I dislike holidays. They always fill me with dread, reminding me of pass events - ghosts in my head.

I thought about it for a while, it took longer than I thought. But when I had to accept the fact that I am required to participate, regardless of whether or not I want to, I had to find a way out.

My way out? Moments. Simple moments. That is how I get through these times. If I live in a moment, it is gone - be it good or bad. But if I dwell on the good moments, the very slightest of joy - it helps me to get through.

I could tell years of stories of why I dislike the holidays but I've already done that. Therefore, I will just be in the moment. This moment.

Now...

The Human Condition...

The sins of the father....

Exodus 34:7                    
Keeping steadfast love for thousands, forgiving iniquity and transgression and sin, but who will by no means clear the guilty, visiting the iniquity of the fathers on the children and the children's children, to the third and the fourth generation.

My first question is "who comes up with this cockamamie crap"? Second is if this was written a few thousand years ago, why does it continue to permeate in todays society? The way I see it - being second generation and all in this country - why must the sins of this country visit me?

I originally was going to entitle this "The White Whipping Girl"; but with the NSA and such - don't want anyone breathing down my neck for stating truth. So why am I the "white whipping girl"?

I would like to know that answer as well. However, it is unlikely that that answer will be found. My story begins when I was seven. Since my parents divorce, my mother decided she didn't want to be one anymore and gave me that job. So I take my youngest brother to the local park to play. He wanted a drink of water and as I was lifting him up, I watched two other white children, a boy and girl tipping over filled cups of water. I had no idea who put them there or why these children felt the need to do this. What I do know is what happened to me because of it.

As my brother and I are leaving the park, I am confronted by about 12 or so black girls who tell me that I am the one who dumped over their water cups. I was confused and scared. I was afraid they would hurt my brother. When I told them I did not know, they take my brother from me and start pounding the shit out of me. And their parents looked on - and allowed it to happen. Why? Because they felt I was responsible for slavery in this country that my family was brand new to? Yes that is exactly why.

But it didn't stop there - it has continued up into my adult life as well. In junior high, the black girls would beat on me, steal my stuff and laugh at me for the pain they have caused me. Am I still responsible for the sins of this country? And if so - why do not the American Indians scalp the Spanish and English for taking their lands? And why do they not pour out punishment due to the "sins of the fathers"? I dropped out of school by the end of 10th grade due to other reasons.

Yet it didn't stop. I was working at an aerospace company in the early 90's and a man who was the head of the program but not my boss profusely punished me due to the "sins of the father". He would take me into his office and scream at me as if I were the person he was angry at and once he got it all out he would let me return to my desk. This happened so frequently that HR wanted me to file sexual harassment charges against him. That led to this man calling my home, sending me letters and sitting outside of my apt. building. When finally confronted with an ultimatum, I got fired for not doing what HR wanted of me.

When I had finally received my HUD that I had been awaiting for some time so that I could live alone and concentrate on my education more deeply, again, the sins of the father returned. This time it was my black HUD worker who told me I could not live where I lived (I did eventually return), it was too nice for me, and he wasn't having any of that. He forced me to move into a trailer park; into a trailer that, well let's just say the only things that worked were the water and the lights. When I told him I did not have to move, that the owners of the building in which I dwell, wanted me here - his response was "You have no rights - your rights belong to me". Now this story is much longer than I wish to go into, however, when really bad things were happening to me and I would call him - all he did was laugh in my face. Again, the sins of the father had be bestowed upon me.

For the last 3 years I have been asking for help to finish my education so I don't have to live on social services and can be dependent on my own means, the sins of the father visited me yet again. The man who was my rep at the DOR died right after I finished my BA. He promised me graduate school, the black woman who took his place denied me that. Told me I would never get to go there. I had to get a job. So I got one, the only one I could get at a fast food restaurant. So this woman decided that this is sufficient employment and says she is canceling any services I should get from DOR. Mind you, I have been disabled for 17 years now and have spent 8 years trying to get an education that I can do with my disability. Social security had told her that this was not sufficient employment. So now I become her dog. For two years this woman made me jump through hoops so that could get help. Well now that that program is coming to an end she had the audacity to have me see a psychiatrist. He was white and asked why I was there, there was nothing wrong with me. I explained that it was one more hoop I had to jump through.

This woman wouldn't even consider nor allow the neuropsychologist's report to be a part of this - possibility because I am well above average, and when I talked to neuro; his response was: "why is she doing all of this - you are brilliant". Maybe that is why. But again, I am living the sins of the father.

Last week was the last straw. While sitting in my supervision group and discussing a young man whom been referred to me, a black woman in my group says "Oh, he won't talk to you - you're white and we were taught to be afraid of white people". Really? And which white people were you taught to fear? Because it certainly wasn't my people, they lived in other countries and did not come here until long after slavery was over with. And not just that, but if one considers history - there hasn't been one culture that hasn't been enslaved nor enslaved their own people. So.....

And yes I am tired of being the white whipping girl...really tired of it.


FYI: the reason I did not used the politically correct term usage is due to the fact is that their are not from Africa, only their lineage as is mine is from other countries. I do,  however, have one aunt and two uncles from Nigeria and the two uncles that are here are indeed "African American".

Love...

Tina Turner asked "What's love got to do with it; is it just a second hand emotion?" I have been pondering this myself for a while now. What exactly is love? Is it an emotion fueled by chemicals and hormones or is it simply evolutions way to keep human kind creating more humans?

Family love - is this just really attachments built upon years of interaction or is it love? Love for friends, again is this really just something that keeps us from completely fading from life or is it seeking attachments that were unmet during your life time?
In reflecting back on my life, past loves and those that have passed, I am seeking to find whether or not the people in my life at these times were those I loved or just people that I knew? People that I merely grew an attachment to.

So when you take away the fairy tales that our parents gave us about love and family, when you take away the sex and are left with nothing more than hormones and chemicals - whose to say that love isn't nothing more than a fairy tale.

I think it is nothing more than hormones and chemicals...
What would love have to do with that?

One day....

The Other Side...

The grass is always greener on the "other side", everything looks different on the other side. What exactly is the other side? Is it like a side dish? Some thing that is just on the side or is it getting to the other side? Not really sure just yet.

I think that I have come to the "other side". The previous side was a means to get to another side, due to that side becoming lost in the phases of my life. And now that I am at the "other side" is it really different? Aside from test taking and endless days of study; the only difference of being on the "other side" is that it is now lays in the concept of application, and study is still inevitable.

So what does it mean for me to be on "the other side"? It feels so surreal as if I am watching someone else, but it isn't it is still me. Maybe because there is yet still another side I have not yet found. A side that still torments me, haunts me. Maybe I need to find another side in order to get to the other side?

Not sure...but what I am sure of is that one day...I will get to the "other side".

Wherever that other side may be...

The Valley of the Shadow of Death...

"Yea, thou I walk through the valley of the shadow death, I will fear no evil" - once said by King David. Walking through the valleys of life, can sometimes prove to be a most wondrous of jouney's and others not so much. And how do we find our ways when the path is not so bright and wonderous?

I found myself wondering that for a while now. And why sometimes we must walk that same faithful walk of King David. How do we get to the other side? And once there will we be ok? Will we be able to be the person we were prior to this walk, or are we fated to become someone new? Yet the most interesting question is "why did we have to take this walk - one that at the very most uncertain"?

As I walked through this valley, which had been darken by death - I could not be sure of anything. I prayed to ancient diety to save me. But did they? Or was it simply just a universal fear of an Unforeseen God that saved me? What ever the case may be - I had to walk it one last time.

Although in retrospect, maybe I needed to do so in order to bring not just this, but other valleys to light as well. Life is funny that way; slam the past right into your face to force you to look at that which you choose not to see.

It started with a TV show that is shown only on Flix I started watching. The show is about a woman who has a "last chance" Angel who was sent to save her from the valley of death she chose to walk through. I am not a religious individual; but I do claim to be spiritually based in faith. As the show progressed, so did my renewed walk through my valley of the shadow of death, but not by choice of my own or doing.

And what I found was great release as well as relief. So many things that needed to be said, so many things that need to be brought into the light.So many secrets of abuse I was keeping to myself. While telling myself that it was ok, I'd find a way out. Yet the way it came about was so unique yet so intense. Why do we choose to keep such secrets - everyone does. Secrets that can have such a devastating effect on us.

During my journey through the darkest valley of death, there was only one aspect of my life that I had utter and complete control over and once that control was threaten - it threatened my very existence. I was shattered and unable to find a way to eleviate this madness. So I had decided to remove myself from this valley and found myself being removed from others as well.

I remembered one day, driving home and thinking about an episode I had reently had seen where Earl the Angel sought help from fellow angels to find his charge. They had created an energy force that touched everyone who knew this woman. Tbe looks on the faces of those touched - how I longed to feel the presence of an angels wings ladened with the love of God. As I pondered this very Hollywood aspect of the Divine, I found myself bathed in the most warm and loving light; while driving down the 405. It was the closest I had ever felt to the Divine, God, my God, the God I have know since childhood.

And then everything changed...

"And yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death", never again will I fear evil...

Missed the boat?

Missing the boat - what happens when we miss the boat - the one that everyone else got on but some failed to do so. So is it that we missed a boat? Or simply missed stepped milestones of our lives?
I think I missed the boat. I really do.

How many times did that boat come by and I just turned away. Did I think that I had found that one boat? The perfect one amongst them all? Hardly. I think back, wondering if I was meant to miss the boat - meant to be where I am today. And sometimes it makes me sad that I missed those boats. Because all I have now are memories of days long past, days where I watched the boats sail in and sail away, standing there knowing, the one I was on was never going to stay.

And I wonder where I would be now, had I taken that voyage - the mystery voyage of the unknown. What treasures would I have found had I not let so many pass by in lieu of one. One that could not resist crashing to the shore, leaving me there, unaware of the many wonders I missed out on.
Why do we miss the boat? Watch it sail away? Do we hope to find treasures in the one that beckons us to stay? And if so - what happens once the ship has wreaked, our worlds crumpled under the pressure of loss? Are we simple just left to drift upon a desert island, alone, awaiting for the next ship to pass by?

Or do we simply just become one of "two ships" that pass through the night...

Buffy The Vampire Slayer - Goodbye To You

Running til there is nothing left...

Enter in at your own risk....

http://thedarkenss.blogspot.com

The following poetry is true. The names have been changed to protect me.
Enter in at your own risk....

Wants, Needs and Reality

"You can't always get what you want...but if you try sometimes, you get what you need" so says Mick Jagger.

So what is it about wants, the innate human desire to have, possess and covet all things that fancy our eyes and desires? And the best wants are the ones we can't have. The ones that are either just out of reach or are just not reachable. What is that driving force within that makes us pursue these wants with a fiery passion that can sometimes can consume us; and sometimes bring us to our knees. Could we be innately masochistic? Or is this Freud's famous "id" that has run amok.

And when we don't get what we want, can we be happy with getting what we need? I think it was innately put in us to confuse wants and needs. Because when we say we need something, what we are really saying is that we want it. Needs are too basic, seemingly unattractive because it can be met. Wants creates needs, but which need is better than the other? If we look at our needs at on a primitive level, it doesn't seem appealing. There is something about the chase of the want; the desired want that sparks and creates a life in an of it self. A life that will only be distinguished when it is either obtained or the need was met. Maybe not the way you plan, but it is still met. The reality is that in today's society we are bombarded by what the media tells us we should want, why we want it and if we don't get it that we must not be enough, or have enough.

And maybe reality is Freud’s "ego" and "superego" dancing to make the need met. And once met, we look back at the lost want and realize what we wanted really isn't what we needed. And yet when that "id" raises it's mischievous ideas, the cycle begins again.

And if we decide to pursue an unattainable want, one can always rely on the "id" defense...

Anything's possible

A Blast from the Past...

Boston once sang, "Don't look back, a new days waiting - its been too long since I felt this way. So basically telling us to leave the past where it is. So why is it that when the past comes back and smacks you upside your head, leaving you to wonder of the ultimate question of "why now"? And what is it about the past that can make one shiver with fear or beam with delight?  My past...scary sometimes to think of just that - smacked me upside my head - well not literally, but it did come a knocking at my door a few weeks ago.

And upon answering the door - I found an old boyfriend from so many years ago I don't want to think about. And it wasn't so much that yes he is an old boyfriend, but more of his attachment to his past with me. A past I could live without being reminded of. Not that it was all bad per se, but considering now he lives next door to me with a girlfriend who knows this past...yeah..that's not good. I really don't feel the need to rehash the past with he or his current girlfriend, but he likes to...

Lately a lot of old boyfriends from the past seem to be popping up out of nowhere and leaves me to question my past loves. Most are amazed that I am single without kids. Not so amazing really - just don't need excess baggage in my life thanks all the same. But it also leads me to wonder if I missed something from the past that I am not seeing now. Or maybe I am missing something from the past?

So why does the past haunt us with melancholy, of days gone by? Is there something that still must be learned from the past? Is the past telling me that I made the right decisions in my life or are there decisions that I could have made that would have made my life different than what it is today?

One thing for sure, I am pretty sure that this relationship would have never worked out, as I am with many of my past relationships. But it makes me wonder if that is what the past is telling me - to stop looking at the past and find a new dawn awaiting me.

My past truly haunts me...

The Rivers of My Heart

My poetry from Posterous and newly written poems can now be viewed at: theriversofmyheart.blogspot.com

Generation "Entitlement"

I've often wondered how and why generations are named; and why it is that the preceding generation receives this honor. Is it to be a reminder of the past? Of things that need remembering? Or is it simply a way of retaining on this tradition for future generations?
Personally, I liked when generations were referred to as "ages". Such as "The Gilded Age" or the "Victorian Age", and the Progressive Age.

My generation is the byproduct of the "Summers of Love" age, so I'm guessing I am of the age of "Over Indulgence". My nephews and nieces are part of the "X" Generation as well as the onset of the "Me" Generation. Yet the one that baffles me most is the Generation of "Entitlement".
What I find most interesting about this particular time is that it doesn't appear to be age limited. Matter of fact, I believe anyone can join the bandwagon and participant within the "Generation of Entitlement". And it appears that many have done just that.

But what I don't get is why do these individuals believe themselves "entitled", and what exactly are they entitled to? We are all entitled to "Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness" - but to what extent and to whose extent? Can we then say we have the right to pursuit happiness at the expense of others because we are entitled? And then, does integrity and justice have a place in "Generation Entitlement" ? If we claim that we have integrity we can not claim entitlement; that is for those that feel that the Universe owes them and owes them big time. Yet again with - and what exactly are you entitled to and why should it concern me? Really?

And although I know I am entitled to certain privileges, I do not abuse these nor would I want to. I have integrity. I know I am entitled to live my life as I choose, to live where ever I may, to come and go as I please; yet I do not feel that I am owed anything else in this life.

Because at the end of every day (some wise person said this somewhere) no one can change the outcome of their day, for destiny will always prevail.

Regardless of your sense of "entitlement".

New Year New Blogs

So I´m back to the velvet underground,
Back to the floor that I love,
To a room with some lace and paper flowers,
Back to the gypsy that I was
To the gypsy that I am...
So all new posts will be here now that Twitter is killing off my favorite place..