Comes A Time

     Reckon it is that time...nothing I do seems to make any difference.  Or if it does make a difference - seems to be not a good difference.  I kept quiet.  I accepted all the blame.  I gave everything I had.  Once I was down, some started just shoveling dirt upon my grave.
     So be it.  So be betrayal.  All the freaking lies I let slide.  That is what I do - keep the peace and accept blame.  Whoever I was - it did not matter.  Everything I did, made no difference. 
     Yup there comes a time -

Free Write

     I can't sleep so reckon I will free write.  I was just listening to this Melissa Etheridge song - The beating of my heart shouldn't hurt no one.  And love can only make you stronger.  That is correct isn't it? I know it is.
     We do the best we can-sometimes that is just not good enough. Does that mean we failed? If you do your best that is not failing.  It is that same concept of overachieving-if you achieved it then you did not over achieve...you just did it; your best.
     I think it was Gail you posted on FB today the question "Why does the universe have to be so hard?" or something like that. Well you know me, I think about everything.
     Universe is not hard; people are sometimes difficult.  I don't understand Israel bombing Gaza and vice-versa.  I don't understand why we, Citizens of the United States believe we can tell them to stop.  When a person fights in the name of his/her higher power - you don't stop them.  It is not like this war has not been going on for hundreds of years.
      Yes, I get the politics of it.  It is the images on television.  A woman standing in her living room, on the second floor, the entire front wall is gone.  There she stood dressed in black.  It haunts me.
     We stopped taking responsibility for just being kind. Opening a door for someone.  Letting a car out ahead of you.  Letting the dude with two items go ahead of you in the grocery store.
     We don't sit and talk anymore.  We don't communicate.  What happened? We are really lost.
     Nat was telling me how a lady at the library this morning was so very rude - and how that encounter just set her whole day on a negative tone.  It also served to remind her how easily we can hurt one another.
     We are all in this together.  Jeepers can't we show a bit of patience and kindness.  Assistant Principal once told me students and parents view kindness as weakness.  Dang, that is sad.  It was true. 
     I know we are better than what we sometimes put out there.  I know we all have bad days.  Reckon, we should try not to make our bad day bleed onto someone else's day.
     Life is more than work, consume, die.  It is so much more.  Making a difference, finding a way to reach out - creating, questioning, learning, searching - connecting!
     Oh, all the wishes won't make any difference, reckon it doesn't hurt to try.  At least to do that much - just try once a day to bring a smile to someone, or a laugh, a simple act of kindness - each of us, if we did it just once a day - that is a lot of good stuff. 
     It was a poem I was writing in my head last night - it isn't done. When it is I will share it.  In the meantime y'all get some sleep.  Someone has to.  Night, love ya.

Hammer or Ice

     I dropped a 7 pound of ice on my foot.  It hurt! Then I hit my right pointer finger with a hammer! That hurt! These events pretty much sum of the past few days for me. 
     Please do not misunderstand what I am saying - My Donald is getting married.  I am so happy for him! He has been my friend 22 years.  My go to guy.  He cannot be that person anymore.  That is OK...Really, I am happy for him.
      Sometimes I wonder if I did something really bad in a previous life.  In fact I don't recall a time when I did not wonder that.  Which has nothing to do with Donald getting married. 
      I did not take pills or crawl into a battle.  Took a shower, went to watch my former softball team play in a tournament.  Which may hurt more than ice or hammer.  I purposefully wore shoes I could not play softball in.  I knew at some point Jef would ask me if I wanted to play an inning or have a turn at bat.  Yes, I long for such moments - just not moments I can have.  So I kept score and did the 7/11 run.  Yippee for me!
      I have said before that I am not apologizing anymore.  Whatever I do to get through a day - well screw it! Today I did what is considered the "right thing." I will do whatever I want to do and I will not feel bad for it.
     Neither the hammer, ice, score keeping, or 7/11 run made tears stop streaming down my face.  So what is the difference? At least I should have a bit of peace. 
      No matter how many ways I try to explain this...no one gets it.  I cannot play softball anymore - have you any idea how much that hurts? Do you know how hard it is to be cheerful and positive while every part of you hurts --
     You don't get it! You can't get it! You are not limping in my Crocs!
      Now I am a person who does stuff for other people; which is fine - it is stuff from the bottom because I cannot get back on top.  It does not matter what I do - Don't you get that?
     We have all lost people, opportunities, jobs, family - I have lost mine again and again and again! So whatever I did in my previous life which so angered our universe - Dang, I wish I could figure it out. 
     Shoot, don't worry about it.  Tomorrow is a new day - get up, tie up your laces, put that smile on, and get up to speed. 
     I will.  I am not a quitter. 

Burning Bridges and Closing Doors

     Not been any practice of mine to burn a bridge.  Believing in life's circular pattern - won't be too long until I find myself on banks of a raging river - and bridge I burned was only safe passage I had to cross. 
     Same with closing doors.  Entering the "funny house" life so often is - should I close and lock a door; then find myself on the outside with no combination to get back in?
     I know folks who are able to do this.  I know folks who must do this.  I know folks who choose to do this - and I know me. 
     Odd isn't it; how we are shaped by so many external factors - add in genetics - we  can become a mutation of who we were originally meant to be. 
      Which gets me to wondering who I was meant to be.  If everything else, environmentally, was "normal," whatever that is; well who would I have become? Silly question.  It has no answer - yet once and again I wonder on it.
     Each of us seeks basic needs; food, shelter, love.  Love is defined by species - but it crosses the board.  Some say love is enough to sustain you - even without food or shelter.  Romantic notion, but false. 
     Love should not hurt.  How often it does.  My heart beating for another's love should not be wrong - but it is. No, love doesn't belong in genetic make up - still it comes from our basic survival skills.  A bird, bear, reptile - each seeks love.  Of course the form and depth are different - reckon the need is similar.
     Closing a door - saying; "This is it!" I shall not need this person again. We shall not cross paths again - I can burn this bridge as I will not use it ever again.  Ah, that never and always - two entities which do not exists.  Perhaps, black holes only meant to trick us. 
     Life just does not work that way.  At least, in my humble opinion, it does not work that way.  Would it be easier if I could padlock doors - maybe - Matters not; it just is not something I can do.
     Goodness, how long have I sought what society dictates as normal - only to achieve that "normal" then have random circumstance and incompetent bureaucracies render me clueless.  Poof, there it goes.
      I know I hang on way too long - believing in goodness of others.  A theme which has pierced my heart so many dang times, one would think I would give it up.  I won't. 
     I won't give up faith nor hope!  I will not give up unicorns and mermaids.  Love's power and laughter's healing strength - I am going to keep these with me.  Yes, I am wiser.  Nothing should surprise me - though it does.  When someone else exhibits behaviors I could not even imagine - I am surprised.  I know I should not be.
     You may consider my behavior defeating myself.  Putting myself behind the 8 ball, then asking why? That is OK, I often ask myself "Why?" That question harkens back a long, long, long, way - it is one no one can answer.  Asking why is, at some point, something we all do.
     I cannot be faded.  I bought a hat, back in 1987 - the words; "You Can't Fade Me" were on that hat.  I did not know what they meant - only knew they somehow rang true to how I felt.  Turns out in gang "slang" the expression means you can't kill me, and if you kill me, one of my fellow gang members will avenge my death.  In other LGBT speak, it meant - we will not disappear - no matter how much you try to erase us - we will not go away.  What was the chant; "We're here, we're queer, get used to it."
     Personally, I felt the phrase represented my resiliency.  Taking what life gave me and still remaining vibrant.  You can't fade me.  So when others burned a bridge or closed a door - their choice - it did not "fade" my color.  It did not fade my presence in their life.  I stood strong on every river bank, and close to every door.
     It would be cool if we could figure some of this stuff out before we hit the gates of heaven.  Who knows, maybe we do...though I am still stretching and learning - still losing and mourning - you can't fade me.  No matter how far down I have fallen.  No matter how dark my days may be - I know - without a doubt - my little light will shine.  I won't fade.
      Might come a day when bridges can be rebuilt and doors unlocked - or maybe not.  Either way forgive me if I appear naïve; forgive me if I believe in love - give me a pass because I will hold hope for a long, long, long, time.  It all makes me a little softer than you might perhaps like me to be - reckon it makes me, me - something in here must speak to you - might just be 'cause I will believe way longer than I probably should. 
      Nope, I can't just burn a bridge or close a door - sometimes I wish I could.  I do hear what y'all are saying.  Whether it is genetic or environment, I am just not wired that way.  I only need adjust - I can do that.  If someone finds themselves on banks of a raging river I will lay me down - or if someone is stuck in the funny house tumbler...I will shine a light. 
     Just me being me; only way I know how.

Boyhood-The Movie

     The draw for this movie is it was filmed over
12 years of "real time."  Of those 12 years it was edited to 3 hours. That is a lot of years condensed into what is, by today's standards, a long movie.
     The writer, director, and producer cast his daughter in one of three main characters.  When I perused reviews and such-casting his daughter seemed a bit controversial. I do not understand why folks feel a parent should not give advantage to their children. Is that not part of the "American Dream?"  As a parent, you work hard hoping you can make your child's life better. Nepotism is sensible. In this case, Lorelei-well she was excellent. So her dad gave her a chance and she hit a home run.
     Patricia Arquette is the mother of two children. A girl, and two years younger, a boy. While "Boyhood" is the title of the movie-it could easily have been titled, "Motherhood."  Arquette's character filled this movie.
     The boy, whose real name I don't recall-well, for me anyway-he tried hard to stand out, he was grasping for something profound, trying to become a lone wolf.  Ironically, (and this is just my take on things) his desire for profoundness made him ordinary. The mother's quest to be ordinary, made her stand out.
      Sometimes I encounter a piece of art, written, painting, design...whatever, and I just don't get it. While many are speaking about beauty, intensity, extrodinary-I am standing there scratching my head.  I wonder what am I missing that everyone else sees. One time I was in a store where they sold those computer generated paintings-you know the kind you look at long enough until you see it is not a animals in a zoo, it is actually, constellations in a winter sky. So, I am looking at this picture and I see nothing-nada-blank to me. Several folks started to join me in deciphering what was hidden. So I just started to shake my head up and down-quietly giggling  in to myself.  "Do you see it?" Someone asked. "Yes," I replied. I did not see a darn thing. I went on to point out the beautiful sea-scape amongst all those dots.
     Sure enough, one by one, folks gathered there started pointing out details in my made up interpretation of this picture. My point, and I did start with one! Ah, yes, my point-sometimes when we don't "get it" we fake the funk. Then other folks, also unable to grasp an artistic concept, they join in.
     Reckon this is my take on "Boyhood."  I didn't "get it."  I would have titled it "Bad Choices 101."  Would believe movie was about an adult expecting different result even though she, (the mother) kept making the same bad choices.
     There is one thought this movie has left me to chew on-Mother and Son lived parallel lives. Other than giving birth-mother and son lived without their lives ever intersecting. The daughter and mother, their lives intersected back and forth-back and forth. Mother and son had one point of contact. Which is more evidence supporting my thesis; donating sperm or serving as a host-these do not make anyone a parent. Vise-versa...an individual becomes a parent even if physicogically they did not contribute.

Just Thinking Out Loud...

     There are words, once they leave our mouths, we really wish we could take back.  Other times, we said what we meant, though our intention was not to hurt.  And yes, sometimes we say some nasty stuff and we mean every single syllable. 
     Ever feel amazed at the end of a rough day, you have any tongue left at all, because you have had to bite it so many times. 
     I am not one for political correctness.  I do not believe in saying whatever pops into my head.  There is a place in between. 
     So I ask myself; "Lisa, is saying this going to be of any help?'  "Will it make anything better?"  "Will my thoughts really matter?"
     I go back to the adage - if you don't have something nice to say then just don't say anything.  And still, with all my filters and rules of speaking I manage to say things which are taken in a manner of which I did not intend.  That doesn't really matter though - what we intended doesn't matter, if the end result hurts someone. 
     Sometimes it feels there are so many filters my thoughts have to go through before I can allow words out of my mouth it is just easier to say nothing.  However, sometimes we say the most when we say nothing at all.
     Being of a behavioral background, I people watch.  I watch mannerisms, tells, hair twirling, eye averting, lip licking, clenched fists, knee bobbing, foot tapping - and so on and so on - Thus, I am adept at reading a person's behavior and gaining insight into their thoughts. 
     For example, often times I laugh or make a joke at the wrong time - it is my defusing mechanism.  However, if you don't know me you are likely to find this behavior annoying.  Heck even if you do know me I probably annoy you anyway. 
     What was it Shakespeare said; "I think thee doth protest too much." Something like that anyway.  This adamant protesting in and of itself causes me to wonder - and me wandering aimlessly in my own head wondering - well we all know not too much good can come of that.
     These past few days I have contemplated words unspoken, trying to determine what is being said by not saying anything or by protesting too much.  I end up right here...uncertain of message I should be getting.  Then off inside my head I imagine every scenario, shake my head 'cause it doesn't make sense - then I write. 
      I write hoping if I put words down on paper, they will come alive and speak to me.  These written words will gain me insight.  Though I do wish people would say what they mean.  Not be mean, just speak your truth.  If your truth is just mean then keep it to yourself.  How are we to solve anything if we can't have a fair and honest discourse.  Exchange ideas without being mean.  It is possible.  I believe it possible. 
     Respect goes a long way.  Common courtesy even farther. When you cannot display these two social skills, well, problems will arise.  That is all I am asking for.  Common courtesy and respect.  Respect that was not given to me, respect that I earned.  Common courtesies that were not applied to me, until I turned the other cheek so many times, folks just stopped slapping and began to give me the smallest amount of courtesy.  That was cool. 
     It seems to me it takes more energy to display rude behavior than it takes to display courteous behavior.  While speaking is just the opposite - cussing someone out is a lot easier than running it through a complete filtration system.
      When people we love, people who claim to love us, display behavior contrary to their words - this is a big red flag.  You know like someone shaking their head no while they are saying; "Oh yes I love you, I respect you.  I am thankful for your presence in my life."  Their words say one thing but that whole shaking your head from left to right instead of up and down - it is a bad tell if you play poker.  I believe it a bad tell if you are trying to wriggle out of responsibility.
     Heck I don't know.  Reckon I am better off hidden from everyone.  That way I don't cause any problems.  Even when problems arise that have nothing to do with me, somehow I become the "goat." I am tired of that.  I am tired of trying to fix everything, of taking the high road, turning the other cheek - Once told to me by the APEIS at Weemes; "Most people mistake kindness for weakness.  Don't waste your time trying to be kind."  Dang, that is sad. As a society are we really so self-absorbed, so narcissistic, so greedy, so mean?
     Sad state of affairs if this is true.  I am holding out hope.  Reckon I will go out believing in goodness of others.  However, I am nobody's doormat - so don't attempt to tread on me.  That mess is just not going to fly; not anymore.

How Do I Fill in the Blank?

     Last week when I was at doctor's office I had to fill out standard paperwork.  I came upon the question of "who to notify in case of an emergency." I did not know whose name to write down.  I could not fill in that blank.  It is a blank deep within my soul.  It is a blank I am having a difficult time adjusting to.
     This whole learning to live this different kind of life - it is not as glamorous as one might think.  Footloose and fancy free; yup that is me.  Problem is, I have pretty much spent entirety of my life looking to find places to belong.  School, sports, clubs, friends, lovers, partners - trying to build a family to which I belong.  Don't get me wrong - I know I am loved and I am blessed.  I am not complaining just wondering how to fill in the blank.
     Reckon it might take a while for me to figure it all out.  Nope certainly not where I expected to be - yet here I am so I get on with living.  That is what I can do.  I can leave a blank space for now.  Don't notify anyone - well, maybe Zuko.  He would want to know where I was. 
     It really is just freaking weird.  Traversed so many valleys, up so many mountains, across so many rivers - arriving here.  Just didn't see it coming.  No one does.  No one sees a catastrophe coming.  It arrives first then insinuates itself into every corner of your world. 
Shucks by the time you figure it out, it is just a little too late. 
     Really thought I had done things right so I would not be in such a position.  But I forgot to remember, no matter what I do I cannot control what anyone else does.  So even if I did everything expertly, exquisitely, perfectly - well, even then there are no guarantees.  We spin that big wheel and hope for double digits winnings
     This is not a pity party - I am just thinking out loud.  It is more of a forensic dig; looking for artifacts pre-2008 and looking for cracks that became crevices - that whole infrastructure failure which is plaguing our country.  Bridges, ducts, roadways, waterways - all large slabs of concrete and steel which are outdated.  Hence Katrina, and Minnesota - and wherever the next big collapse is.
     It is not just objects which are cracking and falling  apart.  Our families are also suffering from infrastructure failure.  This means our children are less prepared for school.  Thus our schools are failing because they were not built for the weight they now must hold. 
     In essence one small crack in any dam will eventually lead to a fissure, to a hole, to a break - and out to sea will towns and cities and people go.  Fragile as families appear; with hard economic times, unemployment, disenfranchised and marginalized - tiny cracks become vacuums. Ozzie and Harriet would not survive in times such as these. 
     Seemed such a normal and achievable dream - fall in love, have children, buy a house, live happily ever after.  The dream, the American dream - us gay and lesbian folks we share that same vision.  We also share arguing over money, how to raise children, who is the gardener, and who is the gatherer - we also share divorce.  Sucks for all of us.
     More alike than different yet it is our differences which are plastered on magazine covers.  How silly is that? Not fame, nor money, nor a whole jar of honey can fix this kind of broke. 
     Yet we get up and we go at it again.  We get up hoping we can catch lightening in a bottle.  We get up because that is what we do.  Filled with hope, holding on to that American Dream - we move forward.  We hold our head up as high as we can and we keep marching on. 
     That blank line is a hiccup.  It is a bee sting.  It will pass.