opps the writing every day thing just kinda slipped my mind.

But here I am, telling you some stories.  Let's see where to begin this time.  Well I will begin with what has been on my mind a lot lately, solitude.  Being alone is something as a kid I was very used to.  My parents having disabilities, us being poor, and kids being cruel I never had many friends.  When I did take on a friend under the age of 14 they were using me as a prop to a cruel joke, or just using me.  So a lot of alone time.  I then entered high school and became popular through the fact my parents would buy anyone alcohol and let them drink it at my house.  So now i had friends who just wanted some booze and would sneak out.  Me and my mom covering their asses while they were gone.  Then I started dating someone who changed my life.  For good and bad she showed me music, art, movies, etc....all the things I was into but at last had someone to share it with.  That relationship we will just say was a roller coaster ride of super lil goth girls.  We were in our own dreamworld we had both created, it was intense and now I can barely remember a thing.  Around 14 or 15 I took off on the road hitchhiing.  This awesome and strange lady in all white with dreads appeared in the local coffee shop we all lived at when not in school or heck even when skipping school.  She was amazing...to me.  My friends thought she was a dirty hippy, but to me she glowed and seemed so powerful.  She offered-ed me a tarot reading, to my friends disgust I took it.  NOW mind you I have been reading tarot since I was 12, turned onto it by Grandmother Little moon who owned a metaphysical store that is still open in my home town.  That place has been in business since the early 80's.  Anyway I would shop lift from her til she busted me and made me work for the store.  She started with forcing tarot, runes, palm reading, etc..on my young mind.  Til the point me and my skateboard were at that store everyday after school with decks and books and all that in front of me while I watched the store and made sales.  I want to insert I am not a shoplifter anymore she kinda made me realize it sucked and made me work it off.  CUT back to the hippy lady that came into my life.  I was in school but suicidal as hell and unhappy, my girlfriend at the time was unsure but let me go.  The tarot reading the white lady gave me told me to travel to take off to see the land.  She looked at me and two days after a lollipolza that me and my ex went to I was in a Subaru with her, her dog, all her drums, and 11 puppies...and away we went.  I was a total brat at first, sleeping in the woods, spare changing by singing on the street, getting food boxes from churches, traveling state to state.  We went all the way to Calf.  I saw the Grateful Dead play, who I did not even know at all.  I went to Rainbow Gatherings which totally freaked my young gothic ass out. We went to strange parties and meet interesting and shitty people.  It was an adventure, that came to an end cause I just wanted to go home.  She took care of me cause she promised my mom she would.  Oh you are possibly wondering how I ran away, I did not I had my parents blessing.  And when cops were around it was like I was invisible, I never had an issue. They all thought the light lady was my mom. hahahahahaha. I was gone for almost a year...but in that year I lived more life then I had ever known.  I saw places, people, things, that I had only seen on tv. My parents never went on vacations like other families, I just went on church field trips or school ones, and occasionally went with friends somewhere but this far for this long was new to me.  I have no idea why I am rambling on about this but it has been a theme in my life.  I am stable somewhere and all I think about is leaving, Then I leave and all I want to do is go home.  What the hell is wrong with me.  And now it is hitting me again.  I am alone alot these days thinking about my whole life. HOW WEIRD it has been and why? What is this all leading me too.  It seems I meet people all the time who want me to take off with them, but then when i do I just want to come home.  I have a home right now, in the basement of a friends house, but I never feel like it really is my home.  I love it, he the roomie is good ti me, but I feel like I should be somewhere else, doing something else all the time.  It has been a challenge for all my lovers and friends who stand by me, let me go, have me come back, let me go, I come back....over rand over again.  I will write more later life is calling me.

where is my mind...where is my mind...

Lately I have been trying to keep busy. Focusing in on labor and work to make my mind shut the fuck up for a bit.  My head is reeling lately, thoughts are shooting by so fast and memories are being uprooted.  I feel like I am lingering on the edge of something yet I have no idea where it is taking me.  I know when I work, for a potter as studio help, I feel more focused and in my place.  When I am cleaning someone's house, or cleaning it out I can focus on the activity, not my mind's twist.  When I make people excited to go on a local halloween tour bus, I live in that moment, trying to entertain.  When I am alone, I go mad.  When I stare at this screen for to long, I lose myself in thoughts, painful ones.  I have no idea how to relate to anyone outside my close knit friends, I am friendly but distant and not letting anymore in.  I feel like something in lingering in the air above my head, and I wonder what the hell it is.  What is the big shiny thing in the corner of my eye. 
I think about death to much.  Almost like some sort of weird obsession of late, it used to be dreams and the imagination.  It is like a scythe has replaced my unicorn.  And so it is hard to make people laugh.  I am the comedian, I am the jokster, when I cannot make myself laugh, then what.  I accept that I am broken right now, hopeful for something to fix me.  I work hard, be there for the people I love, and hide in my house these days.  I recently released myself of a car that was a burden and now I rely on friends to help cart my ass around.  I always offer my friendly company and gas money.  But my chariot, my spontaneous escape, my fire is gone.  Now I have to schedule every day ahead of the next.  Letting go of this was a release from a lemon of a car, but in exchange for needing help from others.  My roomie who is my best friend in life, said this is the time I will see who are my real friends and who are the ones who used me.  I am seeing that more clearly now.  When I ask for help those that step up are my family those who push me aside are shadows.  I am more aware then ever about being humble.  Humble in a sense of allowing others to help me, instead of being the all powerful do it herself girl.  I did not drive til I was 26 I am 33, so this has been a short journey, but now I am aware of what I want. No more okay i will take it cars, I want a VW bus.  I have dreamed of one since I was tiny.  When I got older I have journals of plans on how rocking it would look.  Now I know I want a bad ass VW bus or truck...that will take the road I live on and I can decorate how I want.  No more loan cars, with rules. I want my ART BUS!!! Then when I am stuck anywhere I can just crawl into my bus and pass out.  I am doing my research again, looking at VW BUS magazines I used to collect.  There is even a VW repair place near by my home with buses all lined up...I hope one will be mine.  All my cars have felt like they belong to someone else, and they did.  I want a chariot to be proud of and to ride with pride about my car.  Feel at home in my chariot for once.  So plans are brewing.  This brings some light to my darkened head.  This breaks some hope into my hopeless little mind. 
So as I ramble out of sorts that is my entry for today I swear I will make less sense tomorrow.

sometimes I forget how awesome I am....

I know I sound like an ego crazed person, but I think WE all forget how awesome we are.  I skipped writing an entry yesterday due to my sorrow of missing my daddy in his b day. When I was giving up about making ends meet and crying on the floor over lost time, the phone ringed.  I later checked it to find out I was offered an opportunity to act like a nut and get paid! I am a clown at heart, I love to dress up and entertain people.  Laughter to me is like beer, the more laughs I get the higher I get. I forget sometimes that I am an outgoing, creative, and colorful lady. I have tons of ideas saved on my computer some complete some lingering on the edge of deletion, journals full of performances, stand up, songs...yet I hide. Many years ago I helped with some underground theater in town, working with other creative types.  The plays did well, but we lacked leadership, so I took over. It burned me out, it made me question relationships I had with these people, and it made me seem like the bitch telling people what to do.  I think this is why I dodge performances and other art related projects...cause the burn out.  I love helping people with their performances, I just get nervous that more will be put on me again.  So I sit here, covered in ideas and no way to let them out.  I also have some stage fright issues, even when I have written my own lines, they melt away I can improvise well thank gods, but still my mind stales out.  Dance routines become new pieces as soon as I hit the stage, sometimes I wish I had the balls to just jump on stage and let it out.  I can sing, well at least people tell me I can sing.  I just wish I knew how to play an instrument.  My daddy left me his 3greats grand pappy's banjo. Once I have even income I want to get this baby fixed. I would love to release these songs I write out.  Free them from their text captivity.  It will all happen in time.  Like my fascination with puppets, I need to make some...and get that out of my system.  I just forget how awesome I am, cause I am to busy be proud of all my creative friends.  I get lost in their performances or events, and lose myself to face book...another addiction I have.
So this winter I gotta kick out the awesome.  This little part time gig I planted let's me dress up and get awesome...I think it is going to help me get over it.  And I constantly hear my friends saying how awesome I am, I just wish I could hear it louder in my own head.  Spring I will unleash the awesomeness when the world thaws out I am going to heat it back up.  Since the passing of my parents it is time I let go of waiting and allowing myself to be simple. I need to release all that built up fear into art!  I am over hiding and watching my friends, I think it is time to see who shows up for me, to support me.  To applaud me or boo me.  So once income is at a safe speed I gotta start making my platform.  We forget we are awesome, then awesome people believe in us and remind us we freaking rock.  We all need to tell the "you suck, give up, don't try" voice to fuck off.  I mean I have seen good art and bad art and really really bad art, but still AT LEAST they created something.  So to all the "don't try" crushers out there, hear me now for myself and all my friends, let us express ourselves, STOP making us fear the outcomes.   Some really spirtual dude, or high guy, once said there it ain't the destination but the journey you need to accept.  Right? Now onto puppets singing a duet with a dueling banjo...

Where to begin...I know let us begin with a ending.

Hi! I am another friendly voice in cyberspace adding my two cents to the collective hive.
Now that the greeting is made let us get to the pockets of brimming truth I promised you.

  Let us begin at an end....My parents both passed this summer.  My father on May 16 and then my mother followed him on July 25th.  Now mind you their passing has been a real challenge for me, but at the same time a relief.
My father was born blind and my mother was a dwarf, no I am not starting a joke.  They were both simple mountain folk who worked their asses off and tried to just fit in.  Me and my older brother practically raised them as they raised us.  When I was little it was not odd for me to read their bills to them, organize things so my dad always had the same path to walk, and chop wood, carry water. I never minded the help I had to give cause kids my own age bored me.  I can remember not relating to anyone that was not older then me. My folks listened to me and what I said was always fact.  Since I was the learned one I had to explain movies, politics, history, basically all of life to my adult parents.  They kept to themselves and were WELL loved by the whole town.  Mom cleaned houses saying that making someone's home livable made her feel good.  Dad washed dishes for a campus for 47 years, he loved his co-worker's like family.  He always said that if he had his sight he would have been a astronaut, I like to think that he is now.
My parent's were rare in today's standards, they never divorced oh they fought...they cried..they raised all hell..but they both believed in marriage.  They loved each other more then anything oh and THEY DRANK. LORDIE did they drink...hell they let me drink as a kid which leads me to not care so much for it as an adult.  I can remember going to the bar they were members of they drank and partied while I danced to the juke box and swindled old men out of their pocket change for candy.  They were happy drunks til the got older.  Then the sadness and sorrow came to live at my house and never left.  They later in life quit but only in the past few years, sadly the last drink I got my mom was a bloody Mary but she loved it so. 
All in all my parent's loved me so innocently.  I was never grounded, when I was younger I was spanked but as I got older and more wordie there was no punishment.  They worked all the time and when they were home me and my brother would prank them or drive them up the walls.  They would be red in the face angry but they would laugh it off at the end.  We were poor, but in American standards...month to month unsure if we were going to have a roof over our heads, sometimes no food on the table, sometimes no power or water.  But we survived. When I was a teen my mother learned of the magical concept of credit cards, why I have none today, she placed her and daddy in over their head in debt.  She bought things to make us happy, she just bought things to feel better.  Right now cause of all the debt we are losing their house to the bank.  There is so much damage to the house, so much debt from a house they paid off years ago, is now hirer then before since 2 liens on it.  The house needs to go.  My brother and I are weird by most I talk to who have decided to let the house go.  Let the fucking bank have it, let them have the ghosts and the weeping walls. Let them have my time capsules in the yard, and my tunnel fortress I dug as a kid.  All mom and dad ever worked so hard for was that house.  And now that they are gone, they can rest NO MORE working to death for a home.  No more fighting over money.  No more.  Over the summer almost all the money I made paid for their funerals.  I am glad I could at least pitch in there.  When I was younger living at home and working I would pay their bills before they knew about them.  To make them not worry, not stress so much.  Mom had no concept of money, and poor dad just made it to hand to her.  But in the last five years I walked away...I admit this huge feeling of guilt to you all.  I stopped helping 5 years ago, put it all on my brother.  I went home a few years ago to help my parents, consolidate their debts, get them out of a lawsuit, and live for a minute,  Home is never home again, once you leave it changed shape and form.  I tried to help my parents but they were really bad off and very mentally unstable.  Mom was diagnosed bi-polar and paranoid which explained some odd episodes in my child hood and dad had three strokes, beat cancer, and was having heart issues.  I could not stand it.  I was angry, violent, almost gritting my teeth helping them.  I hated being home cause now all the sudden I had rules and curfews.  It was like they decided I was 14 again.  I tried so hard to help, and then I broke down, and came back to my home and city I adore.  I left my brother to the rest, even signed over all rights to him, when I should have been more supportive it was like I was shoving it in his full hands.  Him with a cra cra wife and son who is a handful.  But he took over like a trooper.  He knew for years even when I lived 100 miles away from home, I was on the phone helping mom with bills, or on the phone with dad just talking to him.  Even when I was not at home, I was still in some ways.
But now home is gone, mom and dad are gone.  Who am I?  I am free in a sense, missing them so much since I was so used to their weird calls and strange ways. Free? I mean my whole life I lived as close as I could to where I was born to get to them if they needed me.  I even started driving at 26 so that I could give them rides and visit them.  For years several friends would be my ride, one friend helped me the most, she helped me learn to drive.  Now, there is just me.  I mean I keep in contact with my brother, nephew, my awesome redneck gay uncle, the rest on daddies side vanished not a peep.  But now there is only me.
Ummmmm...I fantasized about so many lives I could have while I was taking care of them, and now I can.  Still having to sort my unemployment thing out and the whole not sure what next week will bring but if I can get my shit together I could leave? Leave the country, leave the area I live, I mean if I could I can now.  That concept is foreign to me.  My phone never rings anymore, mom would call and call, and then sometimes not for weeks.  The whole world feels different.  I lost the people who had sex and made me.  The people who knew me from day one til now.  It is a odd feeling grief.  sometimes you are sorting out day to day things and go go go then WHAM you are in tears over a commercial, or even a smell.  I see things they liked everywhere, I hold a coke can and think of daddy, I see knitting supplies I think of mom.  It is weird not knowing if I will bust out cry from one minute to the next.  I have been hermit for these reasons.  I want to have a good time as much as anyone, but I am never sure when I have to disappear for the sake of others and their reactions to death.  When I saw I am happy my parents are dead but miss them.  People get judgmental...they tell me that I should be happy they passed not happy they died.  But I am happy they died.  They suffered from so much their whole lives.  And when I was little til now I can remember mom or dad separately telling me they wished they were dead, away from the bills and pain and judgment. I am HAPPY they are free.  I know that is a huge downer to think of a kid hearing her parents talk about dying, but it was my life.  I loved them it hurt when they said these things and trust me I argued with them and even served more drinks and jokes to lighten the mood.  But it lingered.  Becoming a challenge for me and my own life, but that is another blog post.

Since I have now thoroughly bummed everyone out, I want you to remember one thing.  Through all of this I survived, they survived, and they are at peace.  I am still in life and struggling, no health issues KNOCK ON WOOD, but other issues abound.  But I am here, I am there for everyone I love as much as I can, and expect the ones I love to be there for me, no matter what.  When you lose someone be it sudden or long coming, you feel so alone, but you are not.  Death is around us everyday what we can see and even what we cannot see.  I just wish more people understood death and stopped making it a reason for awkward hugs and the ever tired "sorry" you get for something WE WILL ALL FACE.  When dad died, I cried but yelled FUCK YEAH over and over...cause he was done hurting.  When mom died I was at a festival and I saw a double rainbow, and then saw a gospel choir raise the voices.  When I was hiding in the audience the woman singing came off the stage and placed her hand on my shoulder.  She said "are you needing god baby" and I said..."not sure"....then she looked me in the eyes and said "whatever god you got reach out to him, I can see you need a hug" it was so wonderful.  I am not a gospel person, but my mom was.  She would have loved to see that choir and to have the woman single me out and then return to stage made me remember we are not so alone, even around strangers.  She said at the end of the music, "never forget to love the folks you got and the folks you lost no matter who much they hurt you or you hurt them..."  I am trying.
So here is where I am going to end this post...something more uplifting.
You and by you I mean all of you actually reading this need to think about the people who have touched, tormented, or left your lives...think of them and forgive them.  I know WHAT fucking forgive that A HOLE or that cunt. YES forgive them. We are all on this strange planet, with different stories just trying to relate to each other and if you can forgive the others traveling here too, then you can forgive yourself.  I am trying.