Of no real meaning...

These symbols... words that you read on this screen right now, have no real moral to it. I'm just pouring out my thoughts and whoever chooses to read this right now has to bear it. This past weekend was the full moon. Sunday, October 4th to be exact. Some people may wonder what that has to do with anything, but for me, the moon really has a powerful effect on me. My body follows it's cycles monthly. I can tell you exactly when nature's worst time for females is upon me based on the monthly moon cycle. When I see the moon it has a calming effect on me. I feel peaceful. I could recall many moments when I have stared up at the bright, white circle in the sky and felt truly.. in awe. Any person that was me at that moment would have felt like no thing in the world was more beautiful and no moment except that one was perfect.

I just finished cooking dinner for friends. It was delicious. And I need friends in my life that love to eat in order for me to get that pleasure of cooking such a real meal. I can't cook like that for just myself.. it just seems like such a pity for one single soul to consume it and not share it with others.
These friends will be married soon. Well, on paper... since practically they are, by definition... married.

Part of me wonders if I could ever settle down and be with that one person that will be my best friend until I die. You know? That I would go grocery shopping with, cook dinners with, travel around with, create art with, talk deeply about everything with, and wake up and fall asleep next to. I love all these things that I write here... but no one has enticed me enough to follow through. No one has known me long enough for me to really care if it happens... and part of me just doesn't feel it enough with anyone to want to put in the time and effort. Because seriously, if I will commit, then that person sure as hell better know what it's like to be a friend first. A friend first, a lover second.
I do have a best guy friend. I've known for almost 10 years. I'm still getting to know him, and he's one of the best and most real friends I know and I will ever have. After 10 years of course I'm still getting to know him, he's always changing. And so am I. I'm still getting to know who I am.

I'm happy with this person that I call my "Self". I'm happy with who she's becoming, who she wants to become. Who she is when she is alone in this room typing away, and who she is when she is surrounded by precious humans. I love who she is when she is just doing what makes her happiest. And I've become more loving of who she is when she is sad and depressed and frustrated and lonely. After 24 years of getting to know her... she is definitely gaining strength and becoming... more... real.

Maybe that's what it's about. What attracts me... people who are real. Things that are real. Of real importance... that have depth. That are real enough to touch me deeply. That are real enough to have their own answers. That are real enough just to be.

Unbelievable...

Unbelievable how the days turn into nights..
Unbelievable how the sun hits the clouds just right
And lights up the sky.
I almost can't find the words to describe this high,
This feeling of light since that night..
I have grown closer and older and this notion of future
Isn't so scary.. there's no hurry or worry...
I am so happy
That
My greatest mentor in Life
Is the one that's always there for me.
Unbelievable how it took this long
To see that I've been looking in the wrong places
Trying to find faces to fulfill me
When really all I needed was to be empty
And the one that could help me
That one that helps me feel strong
Was the one that was right there all along.
Unbelievable.

The past is now behind me.

September 27, 2009 is the day I confronted my past. It was also one of the worst experiences of my life, and I would never wish that upon anyone. It is also one of the best things I could have experienced. I feel a thousand times lighter, everything a little bit clearer and life is just that much more wonderful. If there is anything that you can do to make yourself a better, stronger, kinder person... do it. It will be amazing for the world. And while we may have to revisit those deepest, darkest places from time to time... it will be easier. The way will be lit up with a thousand and one candles and it will never be scary again.

que sera, sera

I have come to terms with the fact that I am uncertain of my direction. I am okay with not knowing, because really... there is nothing I can do about it right now. Right now I can do A, B and C... all the way down the alphabet until I get to Z. Which may take a couple of years anyway. When I think about all of that future stuff it makes me realize how silly it is. Like a friend of mine once said, "you can plan all you want to, but sometimes Life changes your plans for you." I think she said something like that. Regardless, it is true. Such is life. What can we do about it except appreciate everything we have right now. I have everything I could ever want. What makes me think otherwise, is my beautiful and cruel twisted ego, which I am working very hard at trying to shut up. And one more thing, in order for one to move into the future, one must first let go of their past. I will be doing this tomorrow and I will cry my precious little brains out until all of my horrible memories, traumas, failures and cruelties to other beings is no longer locked away. And once they are all out in the open with my bleeding heart soaked in tears, I will take them and burn them. I will thank them for being a part of me once, for making me and shaping me into who I am now, and I will tell them that they are no longer welcome in my head as negativity or depression. If they happen to return begging for me to feel their pain, I will simply smile at them and say, "no thank you.. I have already turned your pain into strength."

The Plan...

I was almost 5 when I arrived in Canada. By the time I was 7 I had already planned my escape. I had decided that I didn't really feel welcome at this place I was supposed to call home. I mean what was with all those awful looks I would get from this person that apparently I was supposed to call Mom? Who was this lady anyway? Why did I always get these vibes of anger from her? Why was she using such a mean tone with me? Had I done something wrong? All these questions would come up in my mind everyday.

I remember becoming quiet anytime she would enter the same room. Even if I was in mid-sentence. Especially if I was talking to the man I was supposed to consider my dad. I remember feeling scared that I would upset her. I remember feeling bad if she saw that I was laughing and playing and having a good time with her two kids I was supposed to think of as brothers. Why was I feeling this way? I felt she hated me and I didn't even know why. I didn't even really understand who she was. What was I doing here?

I was tired of feeling confused, sad and lonely. The only place I really loved was school. I was in love with my teacher, Mrs. Vasilla. I am unsure of how you spell that, but she was always so loving and had this amazing smile on her face. She really cared about everyone in that class and we learned so much from her. I had great friends that I could play with and these awesome cubbies that we could all fit in and sit comfortably. Our very own private niches. I remember one recess having this talk with another little girl about how we hated being at home and that we should run away. We talked about it, and little did she know I had already been thinking about this for days. I decided I would include her in my plan.

So the next morning I woke up super early and tiptoed down the stairs making sure not to hit any creaks and cracks that would give me away. I carefully opened up a kitchen drawer and took out small ziplock bags. I filled them with food: marshmellows, lucky charms, chocolate chip cookies, trail mix and apples. I then snuck back upstairs and stuffed some clothes and underwear into my knapsack covering my food and then piled my school things on top. It was working out perfectly. I didn't say so much as a word as I simply followed orders from this supposed mom when she awoke, and then I went off to school.

I went the whole day in school quiet, yet excited about my escape. At recess I explained to the other little girl what I had planned. I had everything prepared for us to run away. We would go after school and set up our new home in the little house attached to the play structure. It was perfect shelter and I even had food, clothes and blankets. We would meet at this spot at the end of the day. My friend nodded in agreement. I was excited I wouldn't be alone and we proceeded to play.

I thought my plan was going off without a hitch until the final bell rang signaling the end of the day. I went to get my bag and was about to find my friend when my teacher approached me. She kneeled down in front of me and said, "Is there anything you want to talk to me about?" I shook my head. "No? There is nothing going on at home that you want to tell me about?" I shook my head. I could feel my eyes welling up. "Ok, sweetheart, your friend tells me you're planning on running away from home. She told her mother and her mother told me. I think we should call your mother." I burst out into tears. Why? How could this be happening? I don't want her to know! That girl was supposed to keep her mouth shut and she said she would come with me! I don't want to go back home! These thoughts whirled around in my head as I cried and cried and cried. My teacher just held me.

I never said much. I couldn't even find the words to explain to anyone what had happened, or why I would want to run away. What was the point? That evening after my supposed mom had picked me up and taken me back to that wretched house, she sat me down on the couch. I was stiff next to her waiting for some sort of punishment. Something cruel. But she surprised me. In the whole time I have known her she had never given any form of affection to me. But this one time, and it was the first and the only time in what would be a long, long time after that, she looked at me with tears in her eyes, a pained face and gave me a big hug. I could feel all of her sadness, and we both sat there for a long time and cried together.