Monday, September 24, 2007

Sums it up

This entry from RuachX pretty much sums up the whole thing...

http://ruachx.blogspot.com/2007/09/one-more-moment-of-stupid-thats-what-i.html

Forgotten

I just had to look up an old boss of mine from 2002. No big deal. Couldn't really find her. So I called a coworker who was here at my company at the same time. She mentioned a few things that made me realize something.

Because of my drinking there is an entire year that I don't remember. An... entire... year.

Out of the whole of 2002 I remember seven events.

Someone dear to me's broken ankle
A fight someone dear and I had on the phone one night
Being in the hospital for 3 weeks.
The last time someone dear and I spoke on the phone
4th of July party
Going to the National PowWow
spending my 30th birthday in the hospital

Out of 365 days I remember 7 things.

Seven.

When I got sober the following year, I did not think my drinking had gotten that severe. After all, I still had a job (barely) and a place to live (thousands in unpaid rent).

This... this of all things makes me realize how bad the drinking had really gotten.

There are times when I wish I could be numb for a little bit. Times when things are so overwhelming I feel as if I can't take it. That is when I wish for just a bit of numb.

I was apparently numb for all of 2002.

JESUS CHRIST!

What did I miss that year? What conversations did I have with someone dear that I DON'T REMEMBER? What did I say?

Fuck, FUCK, FUCK!

Time that is gone... wasted time.

I will cry about this later. After dinner with a friend who I am certain will not understand.


What I am learning these days...

is that the hardest person to forgive...

is me.

Sunday, September 23, 2007

Love your neighbor

Time to take back our country.

Not just in the form of our government taking our rights away. I propose that we take our country back in the form of helping our neighbors.

Check out this link. http://www.komotv.com/news/9907767.html This is a story from Seattle, WA about a family that was targeted for hate because of being Jewish. Their cars were spray painted with swastikas. The police are investigating this as vandelism until they can prove the intent of the shits that did this. When they prove it, then it becomes a hate crime.

Meanwhile

This family is in shock and horror. They are nervous that the next time they come out of the house in the morning the will find more shit to deal with. More peace lost.

I read this and the usual anger came up. "What the FUCK is WRONG with people?!?" A question I am asking all too often these days. Then the next question comes up. "What can I do about this?"

I suggest that (with the permission of the family) the "neighbors" of these folks start taking turns camping one person near their house to keep watch and make sure they are safe. The police are not able to do this due to staffing shortages and needing to respond to more urgent crises. I get that and agree with that. So, it is up to us. Not in a "gonna get those sonsobitches" kind of way. In a "I see someone sneaking around their house gonna call the cops" kind of way.

Better that then waiting till someone tosses a moletov coctail through the front window.

Cause you know that is where hate ends up. It doesn't stop with spray paint or burning crosses.

It would be even better if before it got to the spray paint stage, we talked to our neighbors. Saw them as truly human, not just "others." Different, yes, but beautiful because of that difference.

Black, Brown, Red, White
Fag, Queer, Straight
Male, Female, Male-to-Female, Female-to-Male
Old, Young
Rich, Middle, Poor, Poverty
Christian, Jewish, Islamic, Wiccan, Agnostic, Athiest

All of us. We are all one. If one hurts we all hurt.

Monday, September 17, 2007

Walking into the back room
to where all the broken memories and dreams lay

"Wow, this really piled up other the years" I say.

You say "Yes but, we can get through it"

The bookshelves were other things
Surface things
Yes, they needed to be organized

However

It is time (I guess) to go and sort through all the...

Clutter

Mess

Junk

I am getting ready to move after all

Who wants to take all the broken stuff
I would rather sort through and take the meaningful stuff.

Leave the rest

This is going to be the hardest thing I have ever done.

Perhaps that is why I felt the need for a break.

Could I feel this coming?

The change in venue is appropriate. Perhaps I was getting into a rut, with the safety of similarity.

Change is good.
I am starting to believe that.

The view is better
Higher
Good analogy.

"Come on up, the view is amazing. You should see this."

I am beginning to.

and

I am looking forward to the view from farther along.

Even though the rocks I will climb look terrifying.
I know in my head that the ropes will hold.
My heart isn't quite so sure.

I just need to put in a few more anchor points.

You know, just in case.

Dude! Where's my Country?!?

Finally, something to do about the insane bullshit going on.



http://shutitdown101707.blogspot.com/

Wednesday, September 12, 2007

What would I say...

I just found out that you just got married. Congratulations.

I think.

We were together for such a short time. 3 years isn’t that long.

What can I say. You were one way with me and now another. Which one is true.

Or are they both.

I’m not understanding. I am missing a piece. A Five year piece. Time to change. I know I have.

You wouldn’t recognize me now. The hair is similar, with some added gray. The weight is similar, with the recent loss. The clothes are even similar, with additions of things more in my style and less what others expect.

You wouldn’t recognize me now. I am sober. Four years in fact. I am calm. This one is newer. I am serene. This one is newest of them all. I speak clearer, think clearer, and have opinions that are my very own. I take advice from loved ones and don’t from people I don’t respect. I have trust in my instincts. Didn’t know I had instincts huh? I didn’t either till a little while ago. I have faith in God(ess) again and still go to the Episcopal church you introduced me to so long ago.

How have you changed? Based on the notice that I found by accident, a lot. And, not that much.

You said you would go back if we broke up. I didn’t really believe it then (or didn’t want to). But you did.

Interesting.

Were you both when we were together but couldn’t admit it to yourself then? Were you one way with me and then another with others. What is the truth? The base truth.

I found mine. Did you find yours?

So, many, questions. That I won’t get the chance to ask you.

Even if we run into each other someday.

Which I hope and dread all at the same time. Today, more dread than anything else. What would I say…

Will you look the same? Do you limp from the shattered ankle all those years ago? I doubt it. You were too strong for that.

You were my first true love and I still love you. I will always. But not the same way. I will always wonder if you are happy. Or even just content.

Do you wonder about me. The last thing you said in the apartment before you left stays with me still.

The last thing I said to you in the old apartment just popped back in my mind. And brought a smile. I hope it came true. You need someone to make you laugh, and dance, and think. Things I didn’t give you enough of.

But back to today.

I am the same and so vastly different than when you knew. Or could have imagined. I bet you are wildly different too.

The shock today was from looking at you from long ago. 6 years ago. Too long ago to hold you too.

Time to say goodbye now. More later I am sure.

Tuesday, September 11, 2007

a small field in pennsylvania

is where my brothers and sisters died.

They weren't my brothers and sisters in life. They became my brothers and sisters when they charged the cockpit of an airplane. I believe that when someone dies to protect you that makes you related. Don't you think?

That day, while firefighters in DC and NY were battling fires caused by hate, my brothers and sisters were on a plane headed west. After some of the crew were killed they called loved ones and heard that they were not alone in their fear.

What they did with their fear is amazing.

We made heroes of the firefighters in NY. I think that is true. Takes courage to run into the flames and try and get people out. Takes more courage to run into a building that is a tall ass death trap.

I think we forget about another batch of heroes.

We forget that the firefighters and police of New York signed up for this. They knew when they went to training that on the job death was a possibility. A reality.

The people of flight 93 were average. Just going on a flight. On a trip. They were all just like you and me. Average people with average lives.

No training.

No equipment.

Just them.

They heard from their loved ones that they were dead. Or gonna be. They knew that when they died that the plane they were on was going to be used as the weapon to kill others.

They waited till they were over unpopulated areas to try and take the plane back.

They didn't know that at that same time I was in a building in downtown Washington, DC. This building was 5 blocks from the White House.

My apartment was 5 blocks from the Capitol Building.

My friend was working in the Heart Senate Office building 1 block from the Capitol grounds.

Because my brothers and sisters died in Pennsylvania, Eric and I were spared.

And others too.

I think sometimes about what I would have done in their place. I like to believe that I would have been right along with them, trying to pound my way through the cockpit door.

Truth is, I don't know what I would have done. I have in the past jumped in to help when it ment danger to me, so I suspect I would have been right up front.

But

I have not been in that situation and we NEVER know how we will react. I bet those folks, when they got on the plane, wouldn't have believed what they were able to accomplish.

So

Here's to you, my brothers and sisters. Your loved ones live on.

Six Years Later

Six years later I still can't get used to the skyline of New York without the landmarks.



Six years later I still remember what it was like to stand in the plaza and look up.


Six years later and they are still gone.