Let Me In…

…Let me out.

Just so you know, I know.

I’ve always known.  I know what you did.
And, after I saw you, I know YOU know I know.
Your awkwardness and bee-line to be anywhere else, except in that space, told me everything I needed to know.
Your reaction showed me your guilt and your shame.
You wear it like your new skin, which really, is just shedding of your old skin
– your true skin,
Who you are underneath the stories and masks and pretense of goodness.
Decent people don’t wear virtue as a means to an end.
So quite pretending that’s a label you can wear
It’s haute couture to your thrift store design and I’ve never been so bold (or tacky) to directly ask.
I can’t even take when it’s given. 
I am so broken by experience I can’t trust what’s in front of me, what’s in the moment or even what I know to be good.

The Scariest Things…

..Are those which we hold inside.

I have had a lot of shit happen to me over my life – a lot of (maybe) negative shit that people sometimes say “I can’t believe that happened” – But, the truth is always stranger than fiction. Always.

I generally get over  (“find the good”), I have forgiven a LOT – I have forgiven things that would NEVER be on other people’s radar, ever (nor should they be).  I had a roof stolen.. no, seriously, ACTUALLY, let that sink in… I HAD A ROOF STOLEN – those are word that should ever be spoke, let alone be someone’s reality.
(I am sure, at some point, I did in fact write about this – I am not revisiting it now – if it exists, it’s likely under the ‘forgiveness’ tag) – this is not the current issue…

.. the issue is the thing I might hate you for….

….and I rarely use the term hate, and *never* lightly…

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Eyes To See…

…And that which is obvious even to the sightless.

Recently, I had released emotions regurgitate, much like the overindulgence of a night meant to be forgotten.

Ideally, when we think thoughts (read “of people”) we would prefer to not think about, we’d like to switch to “off” and not even deal with it. In being human, however, it is never that easy.
The best of intentions and the best of conclusions still come with baggage.

Sometimes the thoughts creep in, regardless.

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Fractured Metatarsals…

…and the other things that slowed me down.

I have been running, actually for years now, like a rat on an exercise wheel, with the attention span of a gnat.
This may sound like a good thing, but it isn’t. It has been a way to avoid many things in my life. Sometimes, we have to slow down to give ourselves opportunity to learn and grown, and when we don’t do that, sometimes life will make us.

Well, life has decided to make me.
In fairness, life has given me subtle warnings that I needed to re-evaluate and assess and make changes, but apparently, I don’t do subtle well, so life decided to go all mobster on me. Well, on my foot, anyway.

I have literally been slowed by a break and a cast and immobility.

It’s painful, it’s inconvenient and it’s annoying, but there’s always multiple sides to every event we face. This is also a gift.

How can a busted up foot in a 40 yr old be a gift, you may ask?
Well… just that. I have to slow down. I realize I am babying this. I am taking it slow and seriously. If I was younger, I would have taken it as *no big deal*; probably tried to go dancing already! Consequence and arthritis would be *sometime* in the future. Well, when you are this age, a break sorta COMES with the immediate threat of arthritis and the distinct threat of longer healing time, if at all, plus! More pain. So I am forced to slow down.

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Be A Real Person…

…because it beats the alternative.

Tonight’s post is again inspired by a blog post, but *this time* I will NOT be a “bad blogger” and I will site my source. It is here.

The article in question is an interesting one and one I agree with.

Zooey Deschanel is a lovely woman… I have not seen her show (shows?) but I know who she is and that she is lucky enough to have sung with Prince. That’s awesome. She’s beautiful and *cute* and my post is, in no way, in anyway derogatory toward her. I have hold no animosity toward her, I wish her the best.

Unfortunately, the above article made her the focus of a point (but I will not).

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Open Secrets…

…and the heart I wear on my sleeve.

I am not a good liar.
I am not.
Oh sure.. Sitting here behind a computer screen, I can tell you anything.
However, in that moment, when I get asked something…. the truth just comes out. Even in a situation I WANT to lie or change the truth enough to be anonymous. I can’t do it. I am not good at that on the spot creativity, if you will.
Examples? Sure. I got a phone call from a survey taker. I would have preferred to not to tell the whole truth of the household, my age, marital status (that’s just security, right?) – but when asked my birthyear, that quick thinking failed me and the truth tumbled out.
The same thing happens with plane rides; I enter the plane hoping to put an imaginary wall between me and the person next to me. No. The real me tumbles out.

It isn’t that I choose to be dishonest. I do not. I am a very honest person and frankly, honesty is always easier. It just is. With honesty, there is nothing to remember. However, I am a highly sensitive person. I tend to be the sort people lay their problems on, or try to manipulate or I easily get involved with things that aren’t “mine”. I tend to care too much. So, really, attempting to keep people at arms-length really is a sort of self preservation.
However, I fail at it. (OBVIOUSLY)

So when you are honest, and highly sensitive, and suffer from empathy (and I do say suffer from, it can be a blessing, but it is also an affliction), you internalize…. a lot. You also tend to value your alone time.

One place I find alone time is on my yoga mat. However, being alone doesn’t mean you still are free to just LET GO. No, it means you are trapped alone with your brain and your emotions, and all the things that just wont quit. Thankfully, over time, I also have learned to also find freedom on the yoga mat. Continue reading