Min Ven.

night horse

A Toast
from one dead soldier,
to another –
cheers
from one dawning sun,
to the moonlight –
let’s get fucked up tonight;
this life’s been hard,
hard as fuck to survive,
skål
let the tears fall,
my friend –
we’ve been
through it all;
fighting back to back,
through the fires
of living Hell…
seën
to all of our times alive,
to our many defeated
victories stacked up high;
velsigne dig
a key that we found
in the enemy’s pocket,
a while back –
we both knew what it unlocked,
and so it was tossed
into a well as we passed;
min ven:
Moenie bang wees nie,
this too, shall pass us by –
like the many storms weathered
between you and I,
you will keep walking,
right here at my side,
and I shall abide.

day horse

“Life Goes On”.

Way back when I was just barely thirteen
and Death stole my father quite suddenly
a stinger stuck in and burrowed beneath
I learned something then that never left me
how during the stages of trauma and grief
people say the stupidest words robotically
How “Life will go on” or how “Time will ease“,
Such a blow to a child’s sense of stability…

I recall the way all tried to describe so emptily
how things wouldn’t feel as unreal for eternity
how things would settle back into normalcy
how the grief-stricken child would heal eventually
And each had been right about just one thing
in the context of my quickly evolving reality
each time they grasped straws in my comforting
by telling me ‘Life would go on’ still, for me…

I wonder if there was even the slightest inkling
behind such words that I heard rather constantly
that the thirteen-year-old was, indeed, listening
to the messages shone through such faked sympathy
this was how I learned the lesson of superficiality
by being forced to listen to such hollow human beings
the loss of my only parent had marred me spiritually
scarred my soul, shut down parts of my heart permanently…

Yet, in the eyes of those outside my immediate family
I recognized that element that darkens all humanity
that need to keep the world painted in a happy scene
at the expense of those whose former world is darkening
and so, today, if I am faced with a friend in like mourning
I will never offer empty words in attempt to ease the suffering
I remember all too well: the affect that such bullshit had on me
when my present, past, and future were stripped away so suddenly.

Parallel.

There’s no visible end
to this line
that you and I
continue to wait in
for the knowledge
some enlightenment
behind the puzzlement
by which and within
our lives are woven
a waste of time it is
both of our hearts know this
let’s duck out of line
while there’s still time
to sneak away from this

All My Dirt.

I am randomly typpling (type babbling), yes, I know this… my personal Microsoft Word screen seriously could fuck me with all the secrets and truths it has seen at my hand, fuck it though…transparency is the new thing isn’t it?

I have given up my appearance altogether, I suppose…couldn’t tell you when the last time I looked in a mirror at myself…hmmmm…the possible causes behind this fact aren’t lost on me, either…
Something is happening inside of me again; although I couldn’t possibly describe any of what those “somethings” may actually be in the big picture of things; and I am not trying to find any way to describe it – there’s just a slew of mental data on upload at present; and my mental data down-link seems to be broken, too. There’s just a fuck-ton of shit coming in, and nothing moving aside to make room for it; if that even makes sense to anyone reading this.

Failure:
Failure is something has come to define my every moment of each passing day for me; it began slowly when Boo was put into “residential treatment” almost a decade ago and only snowballed from that point on. The many things that have subsequently gone horribly awry since then have accumulated into a vast and freezing cold tomb; each instance of my own perceived failings stacking up against the previous until the room shrinks. Failure has been something that I struggle with regularly, and I often lose the fight with it because of its overwhelming and constant presence. I go to a psychiatrist based on this failure (and its many facets and faces); he repeatedly instructs me to “just let it go”…
Abandonment:
Abandonment is another key element that is deeply embedded in my marred psychological profile; this element is born of my inability to “just let it go” when it came to my inter-personal relationships with parents during infancy and childhood (most notably a then ever-absent mother). It has mutated the human being that I was born as into a different version of who I might have been in a “healthy and/or intact family setting”; over time, it has warped my perception of others who I feel any closeness to – a mechanism of the emotionally fearful and unstable. I am extremely insecure inter-personally, and it only becomes an exacerbated symptom when I give two shits about the other person involved. I am afraid of people in general; not in a physically cowed way though…I am terrified of interacting with others because of the emotional traumas that inevitably attach themselves to each and every experience with closeness to another human being (or the socially mutated versions of one).

Truth:
Truth is another crucial piece of who I am from one moment to the next; it has come to burn in my veins like molten lava these days, and growing increasingly more important to every nano-thought in my head. Acceptance of truth is part of this element; and as painful as this aspect often is for me, in my own experiences, the truth carries weight that is undeniably addictive to my heart, spirit and mind somehow…
Perhaps after all, “the truth shall set me free”.

Boo Who?

“…she really almost died, was closer than not to death…because they had no qualms over torturing her to death…”
(a statement made by a detective to me over the phone this morning about Boo…)

It was times such these that prompted the creation of my blog to begin with…because I have ZERO support in the harsh real-time of everyday Real Life and was at my wit’s well tattered end, and desperate to relate to somebody (ANYBODY!) in regard to my tragic experiences in motherhood. So…with that being out of the way and written, I am once again: thrown abruptly into that very desperation for support.
My daughter has been hospitalized in Arizona; with injuries and occurrences that proved newsworthy (see previously posted article here). She had surgery this morning on her arm (broken in two places) and remains in the ICU at the hospital at present. The most heartbreaking part about her current status of “safety” is that it is as good as wasted on her; she will disappear once more from trauma recovery in the hospital – she ALWAYS does…it will not be long before she finds herself in a newly created but eerily similar situation – it NEVER is when she is left to her own devices, whatever those may consist of, anyway.
For ME – a surviving victim of a near-death throat slashing that ended years of sadistic torture and domestic captivity, intentionally CHOOSING to return to an environment that even holds the slightest possibility for the unfolding of oppressive or violent events is unfathomable and incomprehensible. When removed from the role of her fierce and worried mother, the lack of any lessons learned from handfuls of horrible circumstances Boo has miraculously survived so far becomes haunting. My inability to relate to her thinking or motivations grows by the day and, in turn, so does my dislike for the character she owns. I was almost murdered by her father – I came very close to being murdered successfully by his own hand…but, this was the crux of many unspeakable physical injuries and sexual assaults that I had endured throughout our marriage – it was my own boiling point that is inevitable for any “battered woman” who is hostage to a violent sadist. I saw it coming. I knew it had been looming overhead when it was. I had various emotional attachment elements that I allowed to narrow my thinking and ability…Boo knew her most recent abuser just a few days…
And again, here I am right back at that loss for any figment or thread of understanding…my chest feels hollowed out anew…my struggles feel so in vain…my only child defines a testimonial mockery of my own survival and ongoing recovery from torturous violence and evil (who so happened to be Boo’s father). The contrast between Boo and I in the presence of any self-preservative behaviors is so starkly sharpened that I wait for it bleed me dry.

Beckoning Support for the Bear Trainer.

She didn’t tell anyone, because she’s just like that…(she only shares her burdens when she feels like there is no other way), but the Bear Trainer is in major surgery today.

I shouldn’t be airing her laundry like this either – but I feel like EVERY last person who sends her positive energy will make a difference for her outcome. I won’t get too personal with this, other to say that her condition is very serious and life threatening at present; and I ask any of my readers to keep the Bear Trainer in every possible thought towards the upswing until I hear from her.

https://amalijaamalie.wordpress.com

Please keep her in your strongest of thoughts today. Thanks, everyone.

Min Ven.

A Toast
from one dead soldier,
to another –
cheers
from one dawning sun,
to the moonlight –
let’s get fucked up tonight;
this life’s been hard,
hard as fuck to survive,
skål
let the tears fall,
my friend –
we’ve been
through it all;
fighting back to back,
through the fires
of living Hell…
seën
to all of our times alive,
to our many defeated
victories stacked up high;
velsigne dig
a key that we found
in the enemy’s pocket,
a while back –
we both knew what it unlocked,
and so it was tossed
into a well as we passed;
min ven:
Moenie bang wees nie,
this too, shall pass us by –
like the many storms weathered
between you and I,
you will keep walking,
right here at my side,
and I shall abide.

Spun Too Long.

Moonlit terrain,
sand grain,
foamy kisses
between
seas and shores,
blue-green,
manzanita whispers
the bellow
traveling lazily
from a distant
skipper’s fog horn.
Sharpness of pain,
to spy you again,
like a familiar
and haunting
rhythmic cleanse,
dance with me,
dangerously
here where the
shores kiss the seas,
do not leave
in the absence
of my trailing feet.
Memories overlaid,
delusions overplayed,
broken
like a record
the turntable
spun too long
until the sound
fell silently away.

Teachers.

your-best-teacher-last-mistake-life-quotes-sayings-pictures

The Misidentified:
a Blood Eagle Rite;
a person who hides
behind
an opaque web of lies.

The Egotistical:
a Wolf in Sheep’s wool;
a person who is cruel
a fool
that never learned in school.

The Dishonest:
a Forged Document;
a person who spreads
darkness
and vomits resentment.
The Opportunist:
Never a Chance missed;
a person waiting in secret
focused
on the potential stumble in a step.

The Self-Designated:
the Power and the Glory, faded;
a person who is motivated
over-rated
by a harem blindly cultivated.

The Self-Assured:
The Most Boring Tale Ever Heard;
a person who is falsely secured
by words
as solid as the bridges burned.

Ver Batim.

Two statements made to me today that feel compelled to share for whatever reasons:

#1 –

“Nobody ever notices the teeth of a beautiful soul…”

He doesn’t keep a blog…but I become more and more convinced all the time that he needs to start…his thoughts are often just stunningly expressed between him and me. I’ve written numerous times in reference to my beloved friend who I call the “Shepherd” or “B” or the “Boondock Saint” on my blog; he is someone who is a stationary fixture in my world these days. I treasure our friendship deeply because he is a real-life saint, and not just in the context of me and our friendship – he is a saintly human being who cultivates the gentleness and understanding a “feeler” as well as the logic and comprehension of a “thinker”. These are all parts of his personality, no doubt, as a result of his own lifetime of hardship and traumas stacked up on top of one another; which made this delayed sentiment about my crumbling teeth that he sent to me via text message late last night – all the more heartwarming to me. It’s just a small ray of sunshine that I wanted to share because it was rather profound in my opinion, as the Boondock tends to be.

#2 –

“Survivors unite, together we stand, facing our demons and…. something that rhymes with stand. (I’m not nearly as talented as you are with rhymes, LOL!)”

This is something that one of peeps here on WordPress wrote today in a comment response she made to me on her blog; she is so adorable – open, honest, and die-hard in her own recovery. She inspires me often and has since…well, I’m not really sure who followed who or how long ago it was, but at least since the beginning of last summer. It was so endearing when I read it, because it is HER in a nutshell: she doesn’t necessarily even have to think prior to jumping in to offer supportive information to a fellow survivor – that’s just how she rolls. Anyway, I just wanted to share this little morsel of absolute goodness because it totally made me chuckle when I read it…
You can go check out her blog also at http://rememberhowtofly.com.

Damages.

gandhi_just causeThey have already officially tried to block me from the courthouse today; they are using the ol’ “she does not cooperate under the code of the law” bullshit…which is true, I do not cooperate with their destructive plan to ruin Boo’s life, and never will. Despite the fact that there is not a shred of evidence that would back the pathetic social worker’s attempt at keeping me out, there have already been red flags raised up over my presumed parking spot, downtown, across from the courthouse where Boo is as I type this.
I will go anyway, and I will park there anyway, and I will get out by myself and walk into the courthouse like it’s my job, because it is.
They cannot keep me from a public courthouse or courtroom unless I am held in contempt; which hasn’t even come close to happening yet…
All of my friends and cyber family:
TODAY is a BIG BIG DAY for Americana and Boo, please send us your good energies and/or prayers. WE NEED THEM.
Here goes nothin’….

Postcards From Freedom! *A Population Study*

POPULATION:     Not Enough.

POPULATION:
Not Enough.

Safety Meeting.

96AYTZjDRB

YOU know who YOU are:
I am speaking to YOU – Little Soldier…

YOU have no choice now, besides to trudge through; you have made it to the clearing, now all we have to do is get you across without incident and you, my friend, will finally be FREE.
You might have to suck up a few difficult things to swallow, though…none of the things that you possess matter, when it comes down to your LIFE. None of your huge and vast collections of things from the thirteen long years in between now and the last time that you were FREE make a fucking difference anymore, I hate to say…I struggled so hard and stupidly, blindly – – – with this factor when all was said and done and I look back in honesty at myself and why I never had what it took to get FREE. I was accidentally, on total fluke of nature, FREED, as a result of the tragic ending that YOU can foresee all too easily for yourself. I know that YOU can.
You “admire me”…my “strength and courage” and “bravery”…
Then HEAR ME when I say to you that you have the chance right now to be someone even more admirable than I could ever be: YOU can FREE yourself without being almost killed (any more than you already have been, at least). YOU can be the one who WALKS HERSELF OUT, UNINJURED to safety, to a FREE place where others can admire and look up to you for inspiration. It will be tenfold of anything that you think I stand for in the world of FREEDOM that you’ll shine brighter and longer, with a beam that reaches further.
THIS is MY plea to YOU, soldier…
DO NOT ALLOW THE THINGS YOU OWN TO OWN YOU…
Not a single one of those things is a fair trade for your survival, you are loved and supported and understood and appreciated out in the FREE WORLD already…that’s ALL YOU NEED to get up on your feet on the other side. I hope this message reaches you in your most open and willing state of mind…I hope you will let go of everything and anything that you need to let go of in order to come out and be FREE soon.
WE LOVE YOU.

Innocent.

“One day…

you’ll have to let it go,

you’ll have to let it go…

One day…

and stand up on your own,

yeah stand up on your own…

Remember losing hope,

Remember feeling low,

Remember all the feelings,

and the day they stopped.”