A Day of Rest

Not that I necessarily deserve a day off or even need one but…I'm taking it. (it's already after 3pm and I'm in my pajamas…win!)

I've thrown myself a curveball of sorts…put myself right smack back in the middle of two men. (Not really since I'm technically only having sex with one. Sad because he knows he's my #2 choice…doesn't seem to bother him though…sadder still.) So I guess I'm not so tough when it comes to the "hooks" in my heart. It's strange how I just keep thinking I'll get to the One when he's ready. Obviously  NOW isn't that time. Stinky Boyz.

Which leaves me in the position of potentially having to explain to the Man why I'm not looking for anything sexual from him (Contrary to "popular" belief, I only have one partner at a time.) Will he appreciate not having to worry about it? Will he be pissed? Dunno and it's doesn't matter until…it does.

My cousins must think I'm nuts. Ok, I know they do. And considering their religious beliefs, I probably serve as an affirmation of why their way is the best. And so it goes…

God bless my 'Hut and thank God for "extra" Ruby Redbirds in the cooler.

"Spare Time"

'Thought I'd do a little "art-ing" since I decided to condense my schedule today. Let's just say…I'm taking care of myself…I gotta feeling I need to have my Inner Shit together…like I just read a horoscope or something…eerie.

Dial Up Super Power

In my handwritten GMP journal, I declared today that ALL of the kooky, effed-up men in my Life will have to CALL me if they need me. I'm done with the psychic schtick. I did try to convey recently that Intuition shouldn't be confused with Clairvoyance (failed); sensing is not the same as knowing.
Today I'm being pulled in several different directions…the emotional "hooks" are in but I'm also pretty tough if I need to be. Between family and 2 Paramours, I'm getting pretty "growl-ly". When I get that way it's highly, HIGHLY unlikely I'll offer to do shit. The one exception is that I indicated to GMP that I'd like to hang out…if he's READY…really?…sooooo fucking…fucked. And to the other Paramour: "Dude, if you think you're dying, you could SAY so. I might kinda hate you right now but I'd come to the hospital…Asshat." And what do all of these Charmers have in common?

They want me to share my Super Power. They are afraid of my Super Power. They want that Unique Something but they don't want to know "what" that is! Thank GOD I live in a 'Hut and thank GOD I get infused with my cousins' Unique Something daily or I'd be fucking tapped out completely. None of you Boys put anything back into the dynamic. WHERE DO YOU THINK ALL OF THIS LOVE COMES FROM?

**whew** Kinda felt nice to yell in my blog. 'Can't recall doing that before. Hmmmm… reminds of the days when I did a daily Punkin Chunkin portion for each entry. I'm sure I'll be ready for the November 1st festivities here at the Compound. I love this place…

Gee. That takes me back and makes me wonder, yet again, who the hell reads this now? Is there still a group of snickering girls out there? A pedophile so mired in Guilt that he can't bring himself to right his wrong? An Ex-Boo I spent over 30k on but won't fork over 2k? Family? Do you look at that question above, all in caps, and think, "…she doesn't know Love at all…" If that's the case, then you've missed a lot. You missed ME.

So…are y'all wondering, "What IS this Super Power?"

Well Kiddos, it's pretty simple and it's pretty complicated: I have Connections.

Listening...

Palms Up

If the symbols look familiar it's because I've them used in a previous image; the lower right is me. The other one is…well…either you already know or you don't.

I woke up extraordinarily early today. I think I had the first really good sleep in a long while. Several days ago I realized that I hadn't been feeling quite up to par. Duh! I quit taking blackstrap molasses each morning. I hadn't realized how much my body depends on the iron…I don't want to go for my checkup next week and be like, all anemic and shit. Three days after starting back to it, I feel pretty damn good.

At any rate, I really didn't have much else going on this early so I started "arting". I'm almost always surprised by my choices; the original images, the layering, the filters, and colors are random. I suspect I'm entering another phase of creating that actually does me some good. 'Give myself subjects to ponder.

"Palms Up"? I dunno much about that choice either. It's kinda nice to be half-asleep and just staring at that blinking cursor on the title line until somethings pops into my head. Of course, it relates to the Great Whatever…I don't always "pray" per se but put my palms up. For whatever reason, my palms almost always get warm. It's my way of letting go, taking in, getting over, moving ahead; it's not a surrendering but a…joining in?

Some days a ouija board looks enticing… I'm just gonna not stress and keep these palms working. 'Not sure just where anything is heading except for ME. I'm staying put!

Next on my Agenda: I'm being forced into taking SOME kind of action financially. I'm going to have to communicate w the Ex-Boo and I'm dreading it but…I'm due something. Over 30k down the fucking drain? Really. I'd be asking for such a small fraction…I hate being in this position. PFFFT!

Or better yet…palms up.

Power

I've been thinking a lot about the relationship of talent, life events, mental illness, and choice of vocation; namely musician vs massage therapist/palliative care specialist (I just added that for clarity). I know I'm painting with a pretty broad brush to begin with… I'm just very frustrated. Not just with one person but probably a lot of people ultimately. I completely resent those who know they are mentally ill but take no responsibility for their behavior. My recent struggles with a bipolar-in-mania felt a WHOLE lot like a drunk blaming his wife for his drinking… really? At least pretend to be getting your shit together, PUHLEEZE. (that actually made me feel better…ahhhhhh)

As for the point I was starting, I wish musicians could understand that there are other expressions of all-that-creative-stuff that are just as all-encompassing, draining, enlightening, personal, and transformative. I'm working primarily with those who cannot speak or walk or at least will never be "well". I am no Healer. I'm a Facilitator and a Coach. My job is to help brains and bodies work toward a sense of peace, ownership, clarity of proprioception, and most important, the reduction of pain. So yes, it's pain management. And I'm using everything I've got: life experience, talent, agape/love, spirituality, and my CREATIVITY. What I do effects my mental health just as much as it would if I were spending that energy making music or art.

Should I start blaming you when I'm not taking care of myself? That's pretty fucked up.

Safe House

Oh my. I seem to have fallen into another phase of self-portraits. I honestly don't have an agenda when I'm "art-ing" these days… I just scroll through my raw photos until I find something. Every once and awhile I end up wandering through old files. Today the search was more about finding images from here and now; something from the 'Hut in Manchaca.

My morning thoughts today were mostly about how GREAT it is that I'm going through (what I hope) is the worst part of perio-menapause while living here. It's just not good for anyone for me to be around them too much. Evidently.

I'm not gonna go into any of my Inner Struggles over the last few days. 1) I still don't trust my audience, 2) too hard to explain my relationship with the Great Whatever (anymore than I do already) and 3) I've got a "what the FUCK is it to YOU?" attitude. 'Like I said, probably good to be alone and living small.

Through the Fire and Back...

Best words ever texted to me: "So for now we just forgive each other."
Me: "Of course. And promise to try to be better."

'Nuf said on THAT.

**growls** I've got that Itch to nag a Particular Set of Folks: if you OWE me anything…money, apology, explanation..and you still read this blog, then you really are Worthless. To me. To yourself. To people who think you love them… Anyone who can continue to essentially spy on my Life, hear what I'm saying to YOU and ignore my needs is pretty damned heartless. And it's very likely I had given you my heart at some point.

Maybe one day I'll be free of all Bitterness. But as long as I financially struggle, I suspect it will always be there…right along with my anger at myself. Pffffft. Fuck y'all.