dancing around the "A" word, again
i wrote a bit Tuesday night at work, but neglect to post such things. these few will be a bit out of order, but such is life.
i am at my daylight, working alone again. i like working alone - i get to sing... *grin* i listen to songs and now imagine what flogging someone to the particular music would be like. most of the time the image ends with me dancing around the room instead. *bop*bop* may, in some cases, be appreciated i am sure. mostly, i assume not.
been thinking as of late about morality. what is my definition versus the definition of society's make? seems if it is one of the 12 commanded, that doing the opposite, at least for me, is much more natural. religion is broken. family is a sick parody, as is the government. i used to struggle with such things - i remember a summer of soul searching around age 13, a little boot looking for belief and rapture, finding only fiction. i looked to my family for support and found only harshness. i failed, and walked right off the path into the underbrush.
20 years and strange, i still feel as if i am a failure, always, although i succeed and excel at all i attempt. there is a disconnect - something is not communicating properly between mind and soul. this concept mutates further to the inability to actually be in my body. we are naming things now, Harriet and i, we say "abuse" and trace paths to reason. physical, mental and sexual abuse - i has it! funny - i downplay such things with regard to myself, as it seems that actual, real abuse is more severe. surely what i endured was mild by comparison? and no, actually it is different for everyone, and cannot be compared like that. i am special too - how sweet.
it is
fucked.
...and yet everything ties together with such a pretty, sparkly bow.
this year, as footed-down before, is about me, and exploration and independence. this year is driving, and lashing, and being so. i am unable to fix my crumbling husband, but lend an ear, and nod and hug. depression is an ugly thing, but it is not my responsibility if not my own. boot, you cannot save the world, but you can possibly save yourself.
the other night at work i opened a bottle of wine and toasted myself. alone, i celebrated my graduation of sorts, from training to professionalism (??) i like to share moments, yes, but there was something amazing about accomplishing something like this on my own.
another nonsenical entry brought to you by kumquats, the number 8, and the scarlet letter A.
she was wearing her favorite dress
she was waving a blue handkerchief
she was laughing aloud in the corner of the room,
but she was dancing alone
i am at my daylight, working alone again. i like working alone - i get to sing... *grin* i listen to songs and now imagine what flogging someone to the particular music would be like. most of the time the image ends with me dancing around the room instead. *bop*bop* may, in some cases, be appreciated i am sure. mostly, i assume not.
been thinking as of late about morality. what is my definition versus the definition of society's make? seems if it is one of the 12 commanded, that doing the opposite, at least for me, is much more natural. religion is broken. family is a sick parody, as is the government. i used to struggle with such things - i remember a summer of soul searching around age 13, a little boot looking for belief and rapture, finding only fiction. i looked to my family for support and found only harshness. i failed, and walked right off the path into the underbrush.
20 years and strange, i still feel as if i am a failure, always, although i succeed and excel at all i attempt. there is a disconnect - something is not communicating properly between mind and soul. this concept mutates further to the inability to actually be in my body. we are naming things now, Harriet and i, we say "abuse" and trace paths to reason. physical, mental and sexual abuse - i has it! funny - i downplay such things with regard to myself, as it seems that actual, real abuse is more severe. surely what i endured was mild by comparison? and no, actually it is different for everyone, and cannot be compared like that. i am special too - how sweet.
it is
fucked.
...and yet everything ties together with such a pretty, sparkly bow.
this year, as footed-down before, is about me, and exploration and independence. this year is driving, and lashing, and being so. i am unable to fix my crumbling husband, but lend an ear, and nod and hug. depression is an ugly thing, but it is not my responsibility if not my own. boot, you cannot save the world, but you can possibly save yourself.
the other night at work i opened a bottle of wine and toasted myself. alone, i celebrated my graduation of sorts, from training to professionalism (??) i like to share moments, yes, but there was something amazing about accomplishing something like this on my own.
another nonsenical entry brought to you by kumquats, the number 8, and the scarlet letter A.
she was wearing her favorite dress
she was waving a blue handkerchief
she was laughing aloud in the corner of the room,
but she was dancing alone