Share My World

So here I am, at 4am still up. Ugh. I hate this. It’s not that I hate staying up through the night, it’s more that I am so tired but I can’t sleep. Last night, err, yesterday morning- whatever- I worked all night and then when I got home around 6:30am, I didn’t fall asleep until well after noon. I had to get right back up at 4 to go to work. That’s why I hate the mixed shifts during the week. I’m seriously hoping for a set schedule so I can get better rest.

So tonight I’m up and I’m writing because dammit- I can’t seem to shake this desire for new friends. I just want to meet someone who is not confused about life. But I can’t imagine it happening because I don’t ever give anyone new a chance and they tend to get very upset with me. But not as upset as I am at the fact that I don’t have people to have peaceful exchanges with.

Why don’t I make new friends, talk to people and open up about what’s happening in my life? First of all, my blog is my outlet and I don’t like telling stories that I’ve already written about. Secondly, I just don’t value people’s opinions that much. I’m not going to talk just to talk. For what? I don’t complain to people who can’t do anything about it. A whole conversation- Thirty minutes of complaining for entertainment- I’m over it. I really want someone who loves to learn and to grow.

I have considered that maybe it’s not in the cards for me. I won’t put any effort into making new friends and I don’t really accept the advances of others so maybe I’m meant to be alone with my studies. It’s just, I feel like no one understands that this world isn’t that serious. People get so caught up in things that they feel they should have control over and when they see that they don’t they get agitated and share their agitation with everyone who will listen. I’m tired of dodging those bullets.

I’m no longer furious about life. I don’t know if it’s a good thing that all of my passion went away. Stay or go, I don’t care. Love me or hate me, I don’t care. Be nice or rude, I don’t care. Yes or no, I don’t care.

I just don’t CARE much anymore.

This feels like FREEDOM to me. Not to be tied down by the pressures of life and the demands that we put on ourselves to be who we believe we are capable of being.

Not caring makes me feel free-

yet-

There’s no one to “not care” with me.

That would be way more fun. You know what I’m saying? In all this freedom it would be way more fun if I knew someone understood, not on a superficial, judgemental level but on a intimate personal level.

To know this type of freedom means nothing can control you.

Do you get that?

I wish you did.

I just woke up. It was a food induced slumber. I love those. I love to eat, yet, when I eat meat I sleep the hardest and I don’t really feel good afterwards. If I could somehow find a way to become a vegetarian, I would. I think my son is on his way to being that and it tickles me.

Today I did lots of research about different things. Google Plus, the social sharing site, has been a treasure trove of information to me. If I could fill a bucket with the knowledge I gain from there, it would overflow. The women on there aren’t ranting about their lives or frustrations, they mostly share information, cool images and knowledge about trends in technology and I love it.

Today I read that the FDA had approved a microchip that could be implanted into humans to hold their medical records. I shook my head as old doomsday prophecies came floating back into my mind. Then I thought, “If religion was created to subdue the masses, couldn’t their interpretation of the signs of armeggadon have been misconstrued as well to incite fear?”

I mean, to me it seems incredible that thousands of years ago someone could have predicted things that are happening now, or maybe it was just that since these prophecies have been popularized we are LOOKING for them and interpret things as though they fit the prophecy.

That’s not all I’ve been thinking about. I’ve also been thinking about liars- the people who look up my blog and then pretend like they don’t read it. I can always tell who they are because their actions change toward me after reading something that they THINK is about them. I can also see the IP addresses of everyone who reads and its not difficult to find the location of the IP address. So it amazes me that people I know but don’t talk to, read often, get upset about what they read and then act like they know nothing about this.

This blog is my spot on the web. I’ve been writing it since 2003 and I won’t stop now. Ah, this feels like deja vu. I’ve written it before after a group of people at one of my jobs found my blog and were following along in secret- secretly hating me for being who I am. That puzzles me. If you don’t like the choices I make or the way I express myself or my thoughts, then why do you keep reading? I promise, I have not googled anyone I know because it’s not that important. I did that once and what I found really hurt my feelings so I’m careful not to do it again. I feel that if you want me to see something you have on the web, you’ll tell me directly, otherwise, I’m uninterested. But that’s just me.

I love that I have this spot on the web and that I’ve kept it for so long. I used to have hundreds of readers per day then I took a long break and most of them went away. I don’t mind. I write on this as though I’m talking to my best friend. What’s crazy is, I absolutely HATE to go through the archives. Reading past stories of failures and taking risks and nothing coming from it really bothers me. but then again, it kind of lets me know that there has to be a time of relief for me coming soon because I believe in the yin and yang of life. I believe that life has a balance of frustration and bliss and even though I’ve had so many frustrating, painful moments, there has to be some kind of reprieve at some point. I wait for it with fingers crossed, knowing it will come but also knowing it will end so I’m sure to never become TOO BLISSFUL.

I’m hoping that someone new comes into my life. I hope this someone is super smart book-wise, isn’t into any particular religion and loves my personality. It would be nice to hear sweet things from this person, but even nicer if that person followed those sweet words with ACTION that actually demonstrates those words.

Oh yeah. The other night Sylvia asked me why I got the latest tarot reading. I don’t remember what I told her but after we hung up I gave it some thought and really, tarot readings give me something good to look forward to. On my own, I can’t imagine good things to look forward to these days. I don’t care much anymore. I’m passionless unless I see a woman hurting- then I’m a quiet storm.

I don’t really see past today. If I had to predict my own future based on my past, I’d say I’ll still be a waitress, bouncing from restaurant to restaurant once each restaurant becomes annoyed with me because i won’t feed into the fear they instill in their workers. I know that losing a job doesn’t mean I am worthless. It means nothing. I have no fear of the corporation I work for and especially my managers. No fear at all. I know I’m a good server. I may not be the fastest or the most accurate but my customers leave happy because I make that my priority. If a company doesn’t appreciate that, then oh well, life doesn’t end.

There’s this woman I work with who has been there for 17 years or so. I usually am throwed off by these type of people (people who work for companies for years and years- HOW DO YOU DO IT?) but I am fascinated by her. Her personality is so chatty. She’s so pretty to me. She loves what she does and she’s so good at it and that quality alone helps me to stop being so harsh on people who stay at jobs for years- they do so because they love it and it’s easier for them and they have enriched lives outside of work. I get that.

I don’t know. Tonight I’m wasting time letting my thoughts flow about random stuff and I feel good because I choose to.

He likes me.

He really, really likes me.

He walks with me. Shares with me. He pampers me.

He proposes to me, quite wonderfully. He tells me that he can’t live without me.

We go to the beach. We eat icecream. We are so freaky together and he is a perfect fit.

We love to laugh. He takes me on vacations. Oh wee! I’m pregnant and we have one beautiful son.

We laugh some more. We explore the world. I understand him and he ‘gets’ me.

When I shake his hand for the very first time, his heart flutters and he SEES me smiling up at him on our wedding day.

I haven’t said a word yet, he’s already in love.

He hasn’t felt my touch yet, in his heart I’m already his.

But then I, open my mouth- exposing the truth of who I am.

I am not his fantasy. I am me.

I am not the girl in his dream.

Sadly, he walks away because I don’t fit into the role he wants me to play.

Not knowing that there are other roles, other surprises, other delightful scenes that could have played out, had he not been adamant about controlling the plot.

Faced with the reality of mortality, I would like to present my living will.

I do not wish to be revived in the case of a natural death nor do I wish to remain on life support if I am unable to make decisions for myself. I do wish for my organs to be donated if they are working and useful. I do not wish to have a funeral where my body is on display. I do not wish to be buried. I do ask that people may hold a private gathering in my name and eat food and dance and drink.

I have nothing material to leave to anyone but these words on the screen and my life story for the past 8 years that you’ve followed and I’ve recorded quite emotionally. I am not proud of the past yet it’s mine and I can’t change it.

If I died today, my only regret would be that my sons will never know how much they meant to me. I leave behind nothing on this earth that bears a reward for my efforts but this blog will remain and I want someone to show it to them someday so they’ll be able to go back and read about when we used to live together and all the ways I grew as a woman while still trying to be a mother to them.

I wasn’t the best mom out here and I’m sure they may feel that I am a disappointment because I’m not like all the other moms. I don’t have a perm, I don’t like to socialize, I hate football and I will never be a PTA member. I can’t help who I am or that they chose to come to life through me so I hope I didn’t do too much damage.

If anything I’d want them to know this: You ain’t gotta do shit.

You ain’t gotta do nothing great in your life. You ain’t gotta get married. You ain’t gotta finish college. You ain’t gotta change the world. That shit is irrelevant.

What’s relevant is that you use this time on this physical earth to have as many good experiences as you can. Don’t let anyone tell you that you’re supposed to choose a career, get married, have kids, etc. Don’t give in to that societal pressure because it’s bullshit. You know what makes you happy and following someone else’s prescription for life isn’t going to make you happy.

Life is NOT about climbing the corporate ladder or hurting others so that you can maintain your 5 bedroom house and big shiny car. Life is about discovery. This world is a playground. Go play in it for as long as you can. Ain’t nothing wrong with that.

I wish I had more to leave but I don’t. All I have are these words on the screen and the energy behind them that you should be feeling right now. This energy lets you know that you are more than loved, you were my biggest blessing and you are the loves of my life forever, no matter what anyone says or what you even think.

I may have departed from this body and I’m probably not hovering over you watching you at night but that’s okay because I trust you to make the best decisions for your life and I trust that you will live an authentic life full of fun and enjoyment. I know I did. I tried the hell out of life! I tried everything I ever wanted to do- that was within my power.

I was so stupid to yearn for love when the definition of love slid out of my womb so many years ago. I had it within me all this time and I still thought it was missing.

You are the shit. If no one recognizes it, they are stupid.

You don’t need anyone’s acceptance or approval. Fuck’em. Most of them are blindly following what someone else told them to be anyway and they’re only mad at you because they can’t control you. To hell with them.

By the way, there is no hell. Don’t be afraid of that shit. Just live life in a way that makes you proud to be alive and don’t do anything that you don’t want to see broadcast on the news.

You can do what you wanna do in life as long as it doesn’t hurt others. You can do nothing at all if you want and that doesn’t make you less of a person. The shiny car, the big house- they mean NOTHING in the grand scheme of things. Look at me, did I take anything with me? Nope. If it can’t go with you when you die, it doesn’t matter that much.

Whatever love means to you at this point- I hope you know that your Mama, who fought for your to live when others told me to get rid of you- held you in her heart and ached for you when she wasn’t near. She took a bunch of risks hoping that somehow she could care for you like you deserved without having to go crazy in the process.

Just be real. Be you. Fuck the other side.

Let your real self show. Those who are supposed to connect with you, will be drawn to you, those that don’t, won’t. It’s an automatic weeding out process that you won’t have control over so don’t even try or care.

Do what you like. That’s what life is about. Be grateful and go for what you want. But then, if you don’t get it, just understand that it wasn’t meant for you to have. Make peace with it.

Always,

Mommy

I just got off the phone with my friend.

“My Mom’s in ICU,” she whispered into the phone.

WHAT?

“Yes,” she explained. “I really think, I’m helping her transition.”

I was quiet as she spoke, explaining how she heard the news soon after she started her first semester at Yale graduate school. As I listened as she described her Mom’s Cancer diagnosis and her vegetative state at the moment, in the hospital bed next to her.

“I really feel honored that you called me,” I told her. We continued talking, with me mostly listening as she shared stories about her Mom and their adventures over the years.

“Did you make peace with her?” I asked her. As most unruly artists who try to buck the system, we had numerous discussions about how we wish our parents had been different with us, not n being mature enough to recognize that who they are, made us who we are.

“Yes, I did. Last time I spoke with her I told her I loved her, she said she loved me back and we hung up.”

I am very proud of my friend and how she is handling this. She says she’s going to go back to school and create her ass off. I know she will. I wish I could be there to be creative with her.

Nothing is permanent. Stability is an illusion.

Do what you feel you need to do- TODAY.

You think you have all the time in the world but- you really don’t.

For the past 3 weeks I’ve had weird dreams like, if before I got to sleep I say, “I want to go out and have some fun!” When I go to sleep I’ll dream that I am out socializing and everything is okay. If I desire food, I’ll dream about going to a big food court.

Whatever it is that I desire seems to show up in my dreams but then, I don’t understand how there were 2 straight days in a row when I was awakened from my sleep by someone calling my name but no one was home with me.

I would literally open my eyes, get out of bed and open my bedroom door to see who was there, but I was alone. Once I heard the voice sounding like it was coming from the left side of my bed but when I rolled over, no one was there. It pronounced my name perfectly, like it really knew me.

This puzzles me. I remember back in 2008 when I wrote my first book, I would wake up in the night to the feeling that my fingers were typing. I would look down at my hands and see that they were moving by themselves, so I’d open my laptop and write down the words that were coming out. That was my first book- written in less than 6 weeks.

I don’t understand if any of this means anything. Since I realize that I am the one who gives ultimate definitions to things in my life, I can’t really ask anyone for advice or interpretation. I considered contacting the tarot reader about this all but, eh, I don’t want to keep giving him my $5 when I can decide what it means by myself.

I like him, my tarot reader that is. He doesn’t tell me things that I don’t ask and he doesn’t contact me telling me that he’s my guide and the universe sent him to tell me things. I don’t feel pushed. I appreciate that.

I wonder what this is all about- this whole- I can see the future thing. Is it really possible? Can they see me when I masturbate? I feel paranoid about them watching me. The other lady who used to write me all the time telling me fortunes that I didn’t ask for, well, I don’t speak to her anymore and I’m glad. That was too overwhelming since I don’t like considering anyone’s opinion above my own. No one is my ultimate authority.

As I move forward into the next phase of my life, I have many questions but no answers. I have desires for some things but they seem impossible. Today I reached out a few organizations asking for help with my latest service offered on my website. I literally cried as I wrote the email because I kept thinking, “Why in the world would they even help me? I ain’t nobody.”

I have created two desires for myself. One, I want to see my Mom for her birthday- she turns 50 this year. Two, I want to spend New Years Eve and New Years Day with my sons.

The rest of my next phase are uncertain. I do know that I do not belong here, in South Florida at least. I wonder what my intuition is leading me to do. I just, really wish I had a support system like Sylvia. We are so different, she has to deal with people’s opinions about her choices and it surprises me how she carefully weighs how each choice will affect other people in her life. I never consider anyone but myself, because it’s my life and people know not to ask me NOTHING about what I plan to do.

But it’s really because, she has support, emotionally and financially for her goals and I don’t. I wish things were different for me. I wish I had someone in my life who would say, “What is it that you want to do? Let me help. I’ll drive you there and I’ll give you money to get you started until you can stand on your own.”

Sylvia is so lucky.

So here I go again, with nothing but my skills to stand on, no ability to socialize, no connections, no friends to lean on, just ME- trying to figure out what to do next and hoping that it doesn’t take more struggle and more pain to push through it.

If you could see me over here right now, legs crossed on the bed focused intensely on my laptop screen you’d probably throw a pillow at me and tell me to get my ass up and have some fun.

Granted, always doing research and meticulously plotting my next moves are NOT fun yet, I feel like I have to do this and be diligent about it or else, I’ll never find my safe place.

What does my safe place feel like? It’s not anxiety filled that’s for sure. It isn’t filled with paranoia wondering why the person in my face smiling so brightly is secretly out to harm me. I sometimes, you know, wish I was a different person.

Like, why couldn’t I have been one of the ones who walk around oblivious to life’s deeper meanings? Why can’t I just be satisfied with make up and hairstyles and writing about boys and toys? Dude, for real, thinking so much takes the fun out of life yet I can’t change who I am.

The ONLY relief I get from thinking so hard is WRITING about what I’m thinking. LOL

Tonight I reached out to a few authors of awesome books for interviews and even found an awesome blogger to profile. I hope to meet more and I hope to offer original journalistic style reports on various topics related to women. Healthcare and poverty is at the top of my list so I need to find a woman who uses places like Planned Parenthood and then I have to find one who feels she can’t afford healthcare at all.

I go to Planned Parenthood, due to the fact that I haven’t had insurance since- i don’t even remember. Whenever i don’t feel right “down there” I’m off and running to PP to get a full STD screening. The crazy part is, they always tell me that I do not have any STD’s. How’s that for irony. If nothing is physically wrong with me then why do I feel BAD after I have an intimate encounter with a man?

I’ve gone twice this year, once before the incident just to check myself and once afterwards as a follow up to going through the rape kit. Results came in and nothing was wrong with me physically. I don’t know. Maybe in my mind, being with a man feels so wrong that it manifests as physical symptoms. While I have had an STD before, and one STD scare, I know what it feels like and my body feels like that but testing just comes back negative for everything.

Although I do desire emotional intimacy, what is offered to me is only physical. The cutie I met last month who I used to work with sent me a text the other morning but I didn’t reply because I’m over the younger dudes thing. I don’t want anyone.

You know what I want? SUPPORT. Not just in words either. Which reminds me of this awesome pychic reading I had one time where the psychic described the MAN who would one day love me. He said that it wouldn’t be love at first sight but that this MAN will ALWAYS be there for me. “You mean I won’t have to ask him for a hug or to help me do things?”

He was quiet before saying, “This is going to be a lifelong relationship. There isn’t anything he wouldn’t do for you.”

Wow. Imagine that. I can’t imagine that but it sounds so delicious and impossible. If that ever happens I might even learn how to cook to show him appreciation. Those readings give me so much hope, even if they haven’t come true yet. It’s the possibility that good things could be in store for me that keeps me feeling joyful. Friends usually try to tell you all the worst case scenarios but when I get a reading they tell me something to look forward to.

But anyway, since I can’t find that kind of support anywhere outside the mindless ramblings of “you’re so beautiful” (thanks for supporting something I have no control over) I have to create it myself.

So here I am creating a new project and trying to engage women about it although i am horrible at socializing. I wish I had a FACE for my website that isn’t mine, someone who smiles and laughs easily and chats about nothing at all and loves to mingle and flirt and woo men. I’m not good at any of that shit which hurts me because people want to work with people they LIKE. I’m not that likeable. I make people feel uncomfortable because I only talk about serious topics- no bullshitting here.

Anyway, this feels so good to take a break from researching and brainstorming. It’s crazy that I do all this work for women not even knowing if it will be successful or if it will really help. I’m just trying to give what I wish I had- even though I still don’t have it.

See? I opened up this post trying to be all light hearted and fun, but I guess I’m not in that place right now. I used to write about my adventures but I don’t have any right now. This poem I wrote that EVERYONE LOVES has a few lines that go:

My back breaks beneath the weight of my gift
I want to give it away but I can’t find room for it
I want to give love wherever I go but it’s often mistaken for
Something else, I don’t know what

Man. You should have seen me the other day singing at work. I love to sing Happy birthday to my customers. I have a very strong voice that carries through the whole restaurant and i make sure that i sing off key because it’s funnier. The whole restaurant claps for me when I’m done and I feel like the star that I am.

In fact, the other night, a table came in, sat down and waved me over. I walked up to them expecting them to ask me to get them something.

“Hey,” a very cute lady with a big curly afro said. “Are you a poet?”

I beamed. “Yes.”

“What’s your name?”

I told her.

Her eyes lit up. “Oh my gosh! I told you!” she said to the other 3 people at her table. “I knew that was you. I saw you perform in Broward county at the fashion show! You were great! I love your work. Do you think you could perform for us here?”

“Sure!” I said and went to ask the server whose station it was if I could switch tables with her.

After I took their orders, made their drinks and brought out their food, I had a minute to politic so I went over and said, “I’m ready.”

They were so eager and stopped eating to watch me. “Anything in particular you want to hear?” I asked them, adjusting my hairnet and smoothing my apron.

“Whatever you want! Everything you did was great!”

“Ok, I’ll give you something short, but it’ll make you smile.”

And I stood there for two minutes and performed one of my old favorite poems for them. They grinned, laughed and clapped for me in the end, offering an awesome tip.

That made me feel so good!

I love to perform. I love organizing my website too and making videos and writing books but it’s those moments when people recognize me and thank me for delighting them through my spoken word that I feel so- alive.

“Thank you,” I told them sincerely. “I haven’t performed in a while and it makes me feel so special to be able to.”

“You’re 32. It’s time for you to settle down,” My Mama said to me this evening after I shared my latest plans with her.

We went back and forth, but the result was the same, “OK. It’s your life. Nobody tells you what to do.”

I am a lot like my Mother, yet I’m not.

My mother doesn’t give a damn about socializing or being up in anyone’s business. She won’t pry. She won’t ask questions. She is not intrusive. She doesn’t care that much.

BUT- My Mama is also the type of woman who doesn’t back down when someone bothers her and she knows it isn’t her fault. She’ll be quiet for a moment, but she will react smoothly and with all her facts in order. I’m trying to be more like that.

She has always encouraged me to chill out, stay in one spot, but I’m not like her in that sense. She has worked for the same company for 25 years and I am adamant that I could not do that unless I owned the company. There are too many horror stories of devoting your life to a company and then being ousted with nothing to show for it. I don’t believe in that.

I don’t know what I’m doing in life. I don’t know where I’m going. I don’t know much of anything except I’m willing to lose again and again because I already know what that’s like and how to bounce back from it mentally.

There is no set path in life even though my Mama tries to show me the WAY. I don’t want to go her way and she relents her stance each time, worries about me as I flutter. She’s sometimes proud of me in the midst of my GREAT RISKS but in the end I seem to falter back to the beginning again and I know she wishes I would just sit my ass down.

I wish the same but I know- this place isn’t the right spot.

~sigh~

OMG!

I’m so proud of myself. Today I set up the entry form and instructions for my 2nd give away on my site! Remember that the first one was the rental assistance grant and this one is a $100 Gift Card to Walmart.

Like, I want to give away stuff that will make a difference in a woman’s life. So today I was thinking, what do I need? Cuz you know, when i feel I need something then I have to find a way to give it away. Then I thought, “I wish I could go to Walmart.” You know I don’t have a car so going to Walmart is out of the question, really.

So then I said- Wait. That’s a great give away! So I decided to buy a Walmart Gift Card and give it away on my site. I consider it to be an investment in my business and hopefully, I’ll make more than the $100 I just invested as I serve tables this weekend, that is, if they don’t schedule me for the swing shift.

Anyway, I’m so excited about it. I followed all the steps I read about as I studied the business models of the successful money making bloggers. I signed up to sweepstakes websites to market my give away and I made sure to tie the ACTION steps of the give away to encourage people to LIKE us on facebook and to visit the site to read through the articles! Yay! I did everything right!

Now, I just have to cross my fingers that women actually enter the contest, but um, if they don’t, I get to keep my money! LOL I hope they do. I hope someone who really appreciates it wins it because the chick who won the rental assistance grant- ugh- No- she was so rude, asking for more money and more money and saying it wasn’t enough. I wanted to cry because I gave her all the money I had and she was STILL telling me it wasn’t enough.

Ugh! I hope I never encounter another woman like that again. She made me not want to help anyone with shit. but I realize that she’s just one person and maybe there are more appreciative people out there.

I’m so happy right now! My site is growing in leaps and bounds and I get to put into practice all the things I have been studying about launches and joint ventures and email marketing and stats and all the ladies I admire who run their own blog empire- i get to imitate and improve upon their business models because i am much more talented and innovative than anyone I have ever come across. I just wish I had unlimited resources! OOH WEE! But I’m sure that will come.

I need some more fliers and postcards and shit. But I’m sure that will come.

Everything is gonna come just when it’s supposed to. In the meantime, I’m just laying my bricks every single day. I’m doing what I can with that days resources and smiling to myself when I hang out on google plus because I’m learning SO MUCH from the smart people!

Um, You know. I just came across this AWESOME BLOG about philosophy and I clicked on the category of existentialism and the title kind of shocked me.

I have been writing on my blog about how I came to the conclusion that ‘I am nothing’. Ok, it might seem like I was just agreeing with the philosophical ramblings of Sartre but I have honestly never even heard of him.

I came up with ‘I am nothing’ because that’s what I feel like right now. All the things I used to describe myself have all been taken away.

I AM a mother – No, only on Sunday afternoons.

I AM a grad student- No, not anymore.

I AM a future relationship therapist- Nope. Gone

I AM a journalist- In my own way.

I AM a spoken word artist- well, not anymore.

I AM pretty- well, if I squint my eyes and hold my head to the right.

What AM I?

A server?

Am I my job?

Am I my relationship status?

Am I my emotional state?

Am I my mental condition?

Am I the role I play in my family?

What am I?

I don’t feel like anything.

I am nothing. And honestly, it’s quite freeing.

Ha ha! I came up with that myself, but I guess some guy named Sartre heard my thoughts and traveled to the past to write it down so he could be first!

The nerve of him!