i think the pain has ended, for the most part. the nagging doubts of my academic abilities that plagued every page i wrote on the paper were brushed away with one word: "excellent."

finally...and i can breathe.

let's go.

rrg

i don't think i realize how condescending i sound when i'm writing. at least i think i sound condescending. i know my brother-in-law does. among other things...

anyway, the political hullaballoo we had last night has, at least to me, blown over. i'm sincerely already tired of fighting it. there's no point or end, just a continuous wreck of clashing perspectives and misunderstandings. and un-conceded points. so whatever.

the thing that puzzles me is why he had corey erase the peace sign from the drawing he made for me. corey made a point to tell me that first thing this afternoon when i got there.

i don't agree with them. but, i must keep my mouth shut because i don't know anything.

rrg.

my father in law had to get his two cents in. so i gave him my fifty bucks.

i guess this leads back to my previous post about perspective of history. i had yet another post on my facebook by someone who likes to - as i have heard before - drink turpentine and piss in a brush fire. what a mess. i unfriended him and all of his many "aspects" and one lady from my church who happens to share his views. i am not anti-republican or anti-conservative. i'm pro-reason and anti-mob invective. she got upset and messaged me about it. i explained my position as carefully as i could without turning stoic. but then my father in law had to put all of these posts about freedom of speech and patriotism aimed at "shaming" me for my behavior. so i wrote back all of the things i wanted to say to mr. baker et al. that the language he used was not that of a reasonable person wanting the best for his country. that the blessed forefathers would not have appreciated his remarks. that what he said was tantamount to the mob-riot invective used during lynch mobs and witch hunts. full of passion and spit-fire, but utterly devoid of intelligence and perspective. used to whip up anger and malice, violence. destructive and narrow-minded. rrg.

perspective of history

why are the loud ones so often also the ignorant ones?

i feel like apologizing on behalf of a blind and ridiculous nation. if i read once more about Pres. Obama being a socialist/communist whatever...not that i agree with everything he's done, but i think for the most part he's battling something bigger than just Congress. he's up against human nature in the 21st century. an idealist confronting general ignorance and herd mentality.

because we intake at such a rapid and constant rate, we lose sight of the progression. we also look for the quick and easy fix that doesn't require us to change our lifestyles much.

2010 is a shitty year for idealism.

rock-heart

at times i feel so fragile. i ask myself if i have the strength to physically turn my world back around. at times i think i can see the bridge i stand on engulfed on both ends. i'm trapped by my own actions. things would be so much easier had i just...obeyed...but no, not really. my troubles are sincerely trivial - should i rebel or not? should i wear jeans on tuesday or not? should i go to church or not? trivial, meaningless, pitiful. i've realized, though, that the trivial decisions lead to the larger, the meaningful, the pivotal. every little act of rebellion strengthens my ability to act in the future. only...many times, i'm not really rebelling for a good reason. it's some ridiculous laziness that caresses me into inaction. or fear. fear of reprisal. which is silly, because the rebellion ensures reprisals.

sometimes books anger me by luring me into false beliefs of justice or hope. no, no, no, things don't turn out for the best. but i can't sit still and fail to move just because i fear for misaligned fortunes.

i'm getting so tired of the feelings of antipathy.

today, they spoke of what they would do for a million dollars. or a billion. and what these actions would mean in reputation, but not in self-respect. some of the girls were shocked that i said i would not sleep with someone other than my husband for money. the label "gold-digger" becomes almost a title of respect. at least, they say, they would have the money to show for it, and money can buy the replacements. i couldn't believe them - and i knew they were not serious - but even in jest - the implications of their greed shattered me. 17 years old. self-respect means nothing when money is involved, and if they have money, they will have self-respect. they think. i can't believe they believe that shit. but i've seen it splattered all over the media, all over their environment, the relentless and soul-less pursuit of money. money so they wouldn't have to work. money so they can have what they want. money so they can gloat. money so they don't have to struggle. in the media, i see musicians flaunting fat stacks of money, wearing designer clothes, showing off the material fodder of greed and desire. and the attitudes...the idea that money covers up flaws. money compensates for being a jerk. money and fame compensate for character. it's a world of glitter and facade and delusion. nothing lasts because it's so easily made, so easily lost.

i still sometimes yearn for solitude...for the possibility of a life so far removed from this counterfeit hysteria that it doesn't touch me. i can find my happiness in nature and the slow turning of seasons, in family and the serenity of space. i've learned in the past few years that none of this matters - the *stuff* around me. i'd give it all away if i can find some lasting and deep-rooted peace and meaning. this pelf is absolutely worthless.

the periphery changes, but the "rock-heart" remains the same.

i think he likes to see the momentary hurt in my eyes before i can shield and retaliate.

i think i care too much.

i don't think i can change that.

i may have set the fuse too short.

i may have to remind myself why the fuse was set in the first place.

we shall see...

crone

i love the crone. not necessarily the crabby, nasty wicked-witch-of-the-west crone, but the grandmother or grandaunt who has "been there, done that" and has wisdom in excess to impart. i had a crone in my life until recently, and she visited me in my dream last night. things like this happening have become more significant to me lately. it was a very pointed visit. i even remember my vision narrowing to her on the stairwell - thinking to myself "that's Gramma. but she's dead, how can she be here?" then the lucidity took over. i sat down beside her and we talked for a little while about my mom, and how i'm not very communicative. this was supposed to be, i guess, after her my mom's birthday, because Gramma asked me what i did for my mom's birthday. i didn't feel any reproach, just advice. she's always been straightforward - she doesn't beat around the bush or leave hints. i need to communicate more with my mom. that's the message.

i've always been eager to be old. i know that seems strange - normally women attempt to postpone age forever. i don't want to. i cherish my grey hairs. i want more. a few nights ago, dave and i were walking behind this lady who had the most beautiful white hair. i was envious. :) sometimes i feel like i'm in a holding pattern - like my life will really take off once i reach a certain age. i've never been afraid of getting old. i have to admit the pains are a little grievous, but i don't think i'll ever "feel old." maybe that's a wish or a younger person's projection on the future. maybe i'm fooling myself.

in the meantime, though, i look at the crone with a heaping measure of respect. yes, there are women who deplore their wrinkles, and who resent the young for their vitality and - well, youth. my young life was undefined - or maybe over-defined. at some point, i think i will burst the definitions and finally become myself. maybe that's why i resonate with Hecate.

death, though, i only partially and objectively understood. i thought i had an insider's perspective. i thought since i "understood" the concept of rebirth i could handle another's death. it's only been three months since Gramma died. three months ago, on this day, i had no idea how close her end was. not sure she knew exactly, but i think she had a precognition. no matter, though. indeed, they become dearer in absence.

so i'm looking forward to the day i'm old enough to join the ranks of the Crone. wondering if at that time i'll just be a wise old grandaunt.

i looked at the wrong time.

and men make no sense.

mike and dave were watching videos on youtube - videos from iraq of people getting blown up, shot, etc. mike was kind enough to wait for a few videos until i was in the kitchen, but i heard some noises and curiosity drew me out. i inadvertently watched a man blown up by a tank round, and another man shot several times in slow motion. i should have learned the first time.

men make no sense because they were watching this intentionally. mike held off on the truly appalling footage until i went back upstairs. i appreciate that he wanted to shield me from it, but why watch in the first place? he just came back from this - is there something about war and violence that addicts?

in one video, men were saying "Allah is great" as they loaded grenade launchers. we joke about "ahmed the dead terrorist," but this is serious to these men. they believe this is a holy war. and would we not fight just as viciously if we were in their place? and would we not love just as savagely if we had the opportunity? i'm beginning to disbelieve in the diffusion of love.

i'm tired of war, of death, of hatred, of savagery, of ignorance, of life in general at times. not enough to pull myself from the roll, but enough to find immense weariness and pain. enough to want to FIX it, but frustrated at my helplessness. i'm sure by now if someone would have been able to fix the situation it would have happened already. maybe there is no solution. maybe because we have no sense of history or future we have no sense of obligation. in the perspective of history, one life occupies so minute a space - almost a worthless position. but - take out one life and things do change...imperceptibly at first, then manifold...

hiding solves nothing, ignoring or denying changes nothing. but i'm so tired of being in this fucked up world having to see it having to turn away in order to keep my sanity.