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Oct 30, 2010

Twas a dark and lonely night...many of them, too many of them. First in Jamestown, N.Y. I remember walking downtown to the YMCA, yes, for swimming lessons in the evening on Wednesdays.
I enjoyed the walks. My hair was wet sometimes and, after swimming, my body was loose. I'm not sure why I was alone, for, theoretically, my twin sister should have been receiving these same lessons. It was probably because she caught on during the regular lessons in school-time. I don't know. Or, maybe, probably, yes, more probably, she walked home with a bunch of her friends.
I have always been a loner.
It's not as though I like being a loner today. It's just that I don't find people who are compatible very easily.
Anyway, I loved the windstorms when I walked home. And the dry leaves that had fallen off the big maple trees. The town I grew up in, Jamestown, NY, still had many red brick streets lined with big maple trees and single family two story houses (with an extra attic floor). Most had their own driveway as I recall.
It was about a thirty minute wak to the Y. Every new turn brought a new vista. There were the "apartments" and the "church" that played the carillon every evening, noon, and morning I think. On the third block was a strange theatre, innocuous enough, but different too. All these things were innocuous, unlike the trip to the library where the fourth block brought me past the "pink" house, pinkish asphalt shingles, wherein lived the bully-- no matter. He's long gone to jail, probably.
Back to my trek to the Y. I could either turn down the sleek wide Fifth Ave., past mysterious and elegant apartments and boutiques until I finally reached the corner of the street with the Y on it where I'd turn down, or I could go past the struggling and over-priced downtown grocery store and turn on Third Street and up to to the Y: life was full of choices then!
As I sit at my desk today I realize I still don't always take the same route when I travel today.
I had one horror at the Y. Yes. Charlotte was there with all her friends. So I did keep to myself. The other girls tried to take my towel away--strip me naked. They scared me to death. Similar to being raped, in terms of my dignity, for even back then, it was one of my few possessions, but indeed, a valuable one.
I was thinking last night, no kidding, that I wished I didn't have this wall around me that prevented me from whoring myself. But there was a time when I didn't, which I'll tell you about as it comes up. Or now. And as it was growing back, I resented the man who struck his big claw through the lucite barrier and touched my breasts--too many times.

You wouldn't believe it.

I've been sleeping by candlelight. Because I thought there was no electricity in the house I'm reclaiming. It's a long story that I'll eventually write. Today I found out that the main breaker was just switched off. The woman linewomwn, I guess they are called now, did her best to console me with all kinds of sentences. She finally found one beginning with, something about learning something. And she's right.

I slept, as I said by candleloght, in the cold, it was cold last week, trying two men...to see who cared the most......

The jerk who has the nastiest persona won.

I'm disgusted, let me tell you.

And the neighbors, the neighbors, who watch the goings on, and with nothing better on tv, I assume, talk about me. The neighbors, mind you, saw me bringing in the wood today, lots of it for the recovering of my home. The rescuing of it from the destructive winds of my sins of long ago. I've repented finally. I'm as disgusted, possibly, as God was when he allowed it to be demolished and ravished by friends and strangers alike.

Love you, sigh.

Doing it

I'm walking. My feet aren't hurting too badly. When they do, I know it's time to walk. I received some great insights last night for critical memoir of my life, putting the slices all together. Thank God that they are all fitting into place. That's the main thing. And I believe in harmony. We might not like the pieces, but God is a God of order, and eventually our lives do make sense. The most we can, any one of us, can do is hope for the best, yes, but also try and make the best ... karma. And fear God and obey him. Keep our egos out of it as much as possible.

I'm making some jewelry for an ex- by my standards at least enemy. Hope to give it to him and a piece for his wife. Show my turn around. Gee, repentance? Sure, my inner voice says. I'll have to meditate it on the way home.

Bye.

Att last

broke through my 2 article a day wall. I did three today. plus a lot of work on house i'm buying. good day. tired now. i stopped into panera bread because my ankle started to hurt on the way home. don't need that. i'm hoping a rest will do it the justice it needs. writing though is a pleasure.

I'm behind, and sore

Years ago, I was in a car accident. Yes, my assbone got broken. Now, these many years later, it's sore when the weather changes, or I sit too long writing at my laptop. This is a problem, not lately, though, because I haven't been able to concentrate long enough to sit too long to write too long.

I wonder what your problems are, dear reader. Remember when you read a book and you were addressed DEAR reader. Well, everone I talked to so far has been a dear whether they liked it or not. There aren't any true ones, or close ones in my life, so an abundance is in place of the few.

God, I feel bad.

Just got a book mark with the text lingo on it so I can stay in the groove. This is what my parents used to laugh about around their kids, ignoring us, yeah, but now, I don't even have them. At least I don't have a memory that will remember this either. Ha!