So another year has passed. its hard to believe that it was one full year ago at this time that i was literally starving towards death.
but ive worked hard this year. though my calorie intake only occasionally goe over 1200 and rarely goes over 1500 I think im in a much better place than last year. I just wish i were healthy again before my youth completely passes me by

when to give up?

Every now and then a person contemplates suicide. Life is hard, the body quits working, love is ripped away, pressures creep in with viciousness, and a weakend body and mind simply wonders how much more of the burdens of life can be placed on it before ones knees begin to buckle.

The problem for an analytical mind is that it is so relatively easy to kill oneself.

Take for example the universe. It lasts billions and billions of years. Events such as suns being born and planets losing their atmospheres occur in a blink of an eye. So the human life span 70-100 years is the mere beginning of a breath in the universe. That means the easiest way to kill oneself is to just wait.

goodness gracious.

life is wickedcrazy ain't it?

got to keep on stepping right?

I got to, got to, keep on stepping. Keep on moving. Cause the wind will lift me up
and the sin will rip me down.

but i can, i can keep on stepping

with a hug and a smile,
and you can you can join me join

if only for a little while

And we we keep on stepping
and singing lung loud.

J**** F****** C***** also know as Pandora

I had done some independent film work before I had a health relapse. Today I had someone send me some written work asking me if I'd like to acquire it. I emailed the person and let them know I was no longer doing producing.


I followed this person's link. They are blind. They were a normal human being like I was and then boom one year went blind. Now they have articles and books published. They have written adult books, childrens's books and screenplay.Now I know I should be inspired, but I'm going to wallow for a little bit, because--well I like to save my happiness for my children and not waste it on written word.

This person lost everything a non disable life has to offer and became disabled. And they are going on and succeeding. And their disability is far more disabling than mind.

Am I succeeding? No. I am slowly losing my dreams one by one. First, my husband, my love poof. And he took our beautiful loving close knit family life with him. Then my health. Then working (supporting myself) Then half my IQ. Then my home Then medical school, then science (The two most things  important to meother than my family). Then real estate work. Then food. (got that one back thank god but nearly starved to death). Then film work. I'm barely holding onto the fire department. Scraping through school. Thank God ive got my kids, even though my ex threatens to take them from me at least once a month.

And though I have a broken pained exhausted body, its not as disabling as being blind. Yet im feeling frankly completely incompetent.


Well now that i've got that out of my system, the truth is I still have hope. Its at the bottom of the box once you clear everything else away. and im still breathing and stepping and i've still got my kids and for that i am happy.

Just to write

So im blithering here just to write. I could drivel on tears of a broken heart or talk about the tangibility life in a way that would make me sound like ive been dropping acid. I could crow about my children.(which are great by the way.)

Who knows. Life is such an amalgam of poison and sweets, of toxicity and love.

Whoa. I'm Britney Spears.

Ok. Goodnight.

I object. Impeach Bush and his Administration

I cannot  stand by and watch without objecting the hijacking of our democracy.


This is the way that Madness lies.....

The Oak and the Willow

8/16/05

I am a strong woman.

No matter if the world is stronger than me.

I will hold up as long as I can

under the weight that I bear

under the weight that is added

and if I collapse

there will be forgiveness in my heart

because I made an ant just an ant

and hercules just a man

and I withstood with strength

the best that I could.

I am a strong woman.

Deep Breath in...

Deep Breath in...

Close my eyes...

Smile.

I made it another day.

Water Color Soul

I want to do more here than whine whine whine. I want to capture the enthusiasm I see when I read the beginning of this blog. But the truth is I'm more often moved to write when I'm upset than when I'm happy, so statistically speaking it is more likely that my misery and sorrow will be chronicled than prettier emotions.

Was I spurred to write this because of less than jubilant feelings....yeah a grey watercolor sadness that can't be washed away.

If you pick the wrong man to fall in love with, you just seem to keep falling until you are floating in a hazy steam of heartbreak.

I want mine back so much, but the man that is, is not the man that was, and I am led by the illusion as if by a mirage in the desert.

Death

I hit a deer tonight and am still reeling from it. Laced with the shocks of murdering such a large life, whose thudding smack resembles that of a human, im sure, is the shock that is my life that i keep trying to supress because there is nothing i can do to stem the tide of misery that washes away my humanity, grain by grain, wave by wave. My body heaves the emotion of my vehicular crime, and in a mass emesis, heave the emotion of my ultimate crimes against myself, failing in my dream, failing in my place as a savior, failing in the base of humanity, failing to forgive myself...unlike Socrates my list of crimes is long, and there is no one to beg me to escape an unjust system. But there is  no hemlock either, nor rest for the weary soul.

I remember crying over  drowned frog, who my boyfriend at the time bade others to hide from me to prevent the emotion. Butmy emotion and reverence saved it, because it was dying not dead yet. kittens died in my hands a few weeks ago and i couldn't save them. and i cried, and i mourned...there was no resurrection. Then the deer, and i screamed from helpless moment of knowing i would hit it until i brought my car to a halt. The blood is on my hands now.if my words seem dramatic, dramatic  they may be..but that dismissal doesn't lessen the truth of the feeling.

and then in shock i drove to my sisters house, and in that heaving of emotion there was a regurgitation of feeling...the one that i am alone. there is no one at my house to call and tell i will not be home. not completely alone. im am lucky enough to be a my sisters house. a house is not a home. it is shelter. my sister is well meaning but has limitation in nurturing
and i the nurturer and protectress no longer able to nurture and protect.

instead there is so much help i need and frankly over the course of the years ive felt abandoned in a way i wouldn't have been if i had a respectable disease lke cancer or stroke, though mine is no less destructive. and weak. the pain over taking my body is  relapse. it enough to make many people consider that self actio that perpetuates in greek tragedy...ajax, antgone.

t

42

    *Where is my husband?

     *How can we lose  love?

     *How do you stop loving someone who has disapeared from your life?

     *Why?

message in a bottle

silly title in't it.
Today was the 4th

THE FOURTH

does that mean anything? I wonder.

Every year on this date and the week prior i see flags waving, hear god bless america enough times to make me want to poke out my ear drums, and watch people stand  solemly for the star spangled banner. I hear masticated cookie cutter stamped statements about freedom...and for the rest of the year watch the same people switch into a different mindset and trample the very ideas they give lip service to.

What is freedom? and being a "good patriot" on the fourth, does that really make you a freedom fighter or a champion of freedom? Or a compliant little sheep that does what its told and helps keep others in line via social control year in and year out....right on cue depending on the holiday, capitalist driven and all.

another day

I no longer care about this blog.it served its purpose when i had the intelligence and humanity of a human being. but now that im  a rather dry huskof my former self and just struggle every day to acheive fully the bottom level of maslows hierarchy, i fel like i have nothing to say.

yet somehow it seemes wrong to abandon this blog to just stagnate and die like an old unsed forgotten satellite.

maybe i should just post random stuff even if its not mportant just so i don't let it die.

I feel everything i stop doing becasue im tired and non functional is just metaphorical for the collapse of my life. I need a vision of success and self love and humanity, not proof of how i keep failing..
this blog included.
damn im tired
chronic fatigue is a bitch and it screws you life insurance rating, let me tell you

and the saga continues

did you follow the path
from my heart to my brain

did you take my hand
down the shade laden lane

my rhythms are trite
but I can't complain

better that than no rhytm
and shame laden pain

blech....oh well. updated as a reminder.

no I didn't make it into medical school. yes my health did deteriorate then I nearly starved to death, no exaggeration. No he didn't take the kids, we finally settled on shared parenting..

I however have finished going insane in the most rational controlled way I can. I've sprouted wild. Like those thick juicy blackberries that you pick from the side of the road on lonely rural highways.

The upside: I'm still alive...and any day you're still alive,is a day your winning the battle. and my children are alive and thriving and that makes the battle worth winning.

Precious Prescience

Precious Prescience

I felt you near/breath on my spine/Turned to look/but naught behind
I saw a vison in my mind/In my dreams/but naught behind
And then I scream/ for something real/not sensual sentience/precognitive feel
I saw a vision/you stood fine/my gaze swept back/but naught behind
You touched my shoulder/I missed your touch/your lips and finger gently brush/across my body down and such
I close my eyes/and you are mine/I turn to look/but naught behind


I know that /soon/ you will arrive/You WILL appear/ before my eyes
I know I'll feel /your skin brush mine/I'll turn to look,/ you'll stand behind
I know, in waiting, /you'll appear/my patience wanes,/ I want you here
And you, you laugh,/ musing game/I stand still,/ my want brings shame
Yet still I stand/teased along/I start to waiver/hope clings on
And still I stand/I'm never wrong/my doubts drop off/hope clings on

My vision strong/my will so weak/I hear your whispers as you speak
You enjoy/ the teasing game/ I deplore my/ want with shame
You must not wait/ too long you know/ or I lose faith/ and turn to go
Your heart/ beats/ strong/ mind to mind/ I turn to look/ but naught behind
You've grown strong/ I've grown weak/ I lean my heart against my feet
Until I feel/ it can't be true,/ I turn to look,/ and there stands you.

string theory on the ocean

Its been a long time since I've written. Blogs are just online diaries that you open up to the world aren't they. No one comes to my blog so I feel I can write anything. I put it out there like a message in a bottle. Taken by the currents. More likely to be lost beneath the waves of cyber space than found on some cyber shore.
But pretty soon that bottles not going to be anonymous anymore. Should I keep writing? Will it suppress my freedom to vent? Is it back to the locked diary for me? Safety and freedom...contradictory, yet desirable.