Brokenness

There are so many people in this world that are broken, and I worry if this many individuals are broken, how broken are we as a whole?

Two topics are racing each other through my mind to write about.
The book "The Shack" by William P. Young and Fish-hook.

I've been focusing on writing poetry lately, because it was what I was inspired to write about, I felt I couldn't clearly put into prose what I've been thinking or experiencing. I guess tonight, the cards were dealt differently for once.

The Shack... My friend Brian gave me this book last weekend, not really explaining (probably knowing) what it was about but only having heard that "God" in this book manifests herself as a large African-American woman. I had a group of friends in H.S. who regularly discussed God as well as may other things most H.S. Students don't discuss, in our free time. We decided, mostly me, that if God ever manifested on earth She would come as an overweight, HIV Positive, Diabetic, Poor Obese Black Lesbian. My logic was that in order for My God to have the kind of empathy and compassion that She does, She would need to be on earth at, essentially, the bottom of the oppression ladder. I felt that was as bad as it could get in modern day America. (I shall say now that I have no empirical data to support this, but my mostly liberal friends and even some of my conservative ones would probably agree with me on this.)

So I picked up The Shack the other day, to start reading because I wanted something to occupy some down time. I wasn't really looking for anything in particular, but the book was sitting there, and it's relatively small, so I figured what the hell.... What the HELL is exactly my response... This book has me reading like Harry Potter, but gives me migraines at the same time.

The premise is simple (I'll simplify it even more now) Mack lost his 6 year old daughter a few years ago to a kidnapping/murder. Since then he has pushed farther into depression and not really had a healthy relationship with God, or anyone else for that matter. God beckons him to spend a weekend at the shack where his daughters murder presumably took place(they found her bloody dress there, but never located a body)

The good part happens of course when he shows up, and there for a weekend of intense concepts and great food are : God(Papa, Large Black woman who sings and cooks) Jesus(Handsome Hebrew Carpenter who likes to fish) and Sarayu(Asianish woman who is difficult to see clearly or focus on in anyway except through hearing her voice)

The first major migraine came to me while they are teaching Mack about relationship and love. these are the two major themes through the entire book, so far. Forgiveness, Healing, Faith, and many other things are touched upon as well, but I want to focus on Relationship for now.

"I prefer verbs over nouns"
A noun is something that is lifeless, it exists but it does nothing, brings nothing to the table, and can change nothing. A relationship is a dead object, without the ability to make anything better or fulfilling at all. To have "A relationship" means to have something that exists but has already been deadened and permanently so. To be "In Relationship" as in to relate with others, means to have a living, changing, breathing and evolving agreement with another person. This was a difficult concept for me, as it is.
But it gets heavier!!!
Relationships have no expectations, no rules, because being in relationship with someone or something means to love them or it, and Love, Real Love cannot be bound by rules or expectations, it takes the power and meaning of love away.

I had never thought of this before, and it is turning my world upside down!
I thought Love, True Love had to have a foundation, a structure to be built upon. Something institutional and strong to hold it together. But I think I've been wrong all along!!! Love is the foundation, it is the bond and the structure, It is what binds the relationship together, without expectations. (there is also discussion about expectancy versus expectations, which I still don't get so if you have any ideas or hints, let me know...)

I am focusing, for now, on this particular concept for now... I am working on realizing that Judgement happens because of expectations of people. Rules, Regulations and institutionalized notions of what is right and wrong in a relationship only drive wedges between the people/things in relationship with each other. Unconditional Love now had new meaning...

In that same theme, I'm struggling with, or rather have struggled with my being in relationship with Fish-Hook. When we first started hanging out we discussed not wanting anything serious, or a boyfriend at all really. And the more time we spent together, instigated equally by us both, the closer we got to that. He of course, like all men I meet and fall for, is broken and began panicking about that and pulling away. I of course, like I always do, saw that as a reason to reach out and try to grasp more which only pushed him further away...

The entire conflict came to a head tonight. After emailing each other back and forth a few times he told me what was going on. I told him I wanted to speak again, in person preferably, and he told me he would think about coming over tonight after work... After work, he told me he'd have to come by another time...
I pressed him a little, to make the time for us to talk... He said he needed to go away for a while and be a part of society again sometime soon. Without thinking much, I pushed him completely away, and said goodbye...

After all of this thinking about, processing, working on this idea of love, this new concept of relationship and forgiveness and healing and expectations I wrote him off quickly and cleanly, so as to protect myself from that pain I guess...

The world is full of broken people, so many individuals who refuse to allow pain, or love. People who want structure and foundations, but choose to build those without using love as the binding... And I think to myself, I'm just like them, really... So how do I fix my own brokenness, and can I do so while struggling to help others fix theirs as well?

Words

Words that are like a warm fire, on a cold night

Emotions that wrap me up, shelter from the rain and wind

Passion and longing that comforts, like the childhood teddy bear even 20 years later

Desire that strives for more, feels cravings of love and lust and a closeness that just isn’t close enough still.

Words that are like blades of ice, running through the flesh in the heat of the day

Blankness that tears away the protection, breeds vulnerability and pain

Emptiness that rips away the pillow and blankets in the middle of dead sleep.

Nonchalance that pushes further and further away, your loneliness is your creation, your pain your own doing, the bed is made of your fear and fickleness, and I will not lie in it with you any longer…

I cooked for you, the way my grandma taught me to

I put love in it for you, cause that what you got me to do

I spoke Spanish for you, cause that’s your kinky turn on

I sucked dick for you, cause you said you weren’t close to being done

I wrote words for you, my poetry, my gift I dedicate to no one

I gave props to you, for being more real than the last one

And you laughed at me, said OMG, LOL, Aye Papi…

I thought you wanted me, but you’re too young to know what it is you see-

I thought you liked me, but that smile of yours led me on, I know the T…

So when you’re ready, let me know cause I adore you dearly,

But until you’re done playin games I have to say Fuck Off

I don’t need another love-fatality…

I heard it the second I met you…

That sound, it reminded me, you know the one, of a 1970s arcade or backroom of a dark dive-bar…

I did what I could, evading you like you would be death to me

You did what you do best, chasing me like I was the life force to your new world order…

The tables turned and I chased that purple sheet around the labyrinth of events, corners the outside world can see around, but we cannot, and you waited it out… slowly…

You chased me again this time with more fervor, because allowing me to find and attain that sacred fruit, was too much for you….

But I grabbed that pearl, I procured that life-saving gem and you, you were ruined, marked for death… I chased you until I caught you, with every strategic bone in my being, pushing to my limits my intelligence and planning….

And when I caught you, you surrendered easily, allowing me to think I’d won… But I hadn’t, for that was simply level one…

I heard it the second I met you, that sound, it reminded me, you know the one, of a 1970s arcade or backroom of a dark dive-bar… But you, you were playing a game, for fun and I was playing for my life…

I knew when I met you, you were the hardest Ghost in Pac-Man and I… I was Pac-Man, never quite strong enough to catch you fully…

That sound, like an 1970s arcade, where games and life intersect… I wish I’d been playing the game…

Poetry, Education and Debbie-Downers...

So I haven't written in a while...
I started watching Slam Poetry today, thanks to a link posted on my fish-hooks Facebook page.
I came across this video: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rpW-xoCkRFE .
It spoke to my heart. I've been growing more and more frustrated lately. I feel dumb and ignorant again. I am a well educated, well spoken individual. I have an amazing use of the English language, and I speak and write with great grammar. But this world demands less of me. I have to simplify my vocabulary and speech patterns to accommodate those around me. I don't know hwat to do about this, It opens for me a huge dilemma: Do I communicate poorly with people, in order to be understood? Or do I communicate poorly with people, in order to be true to who I am, knowing they will not understand me. As they are both, poor communication. *ponder*

I have decided to try writing more poetry again. I wrote some a couple weeks back, the inspiration was running high. I'm hoping I can get that back again. I think that not reading as much, and then not writing as a result are the leading factors in my feeling so dumb lately. If any of my readers (all three of you) have particularly good poetry to share for inspiration, please let me know.

As for Debbie-Downers...

I was recently accused of being a Debbie-Downer in my Facebook statuses. I laughed a bit, and then ignored the comment. But I thought about it a bit more. Isn't life sadness and happiness? Isn't life about the ups and downs? I don't want to read all the happiness on my friends pages, or in their lives via email or postcard for that matter... I think it would be unfair to depict a life of only good news and happiness, right? Especially on Facebook, where friends of mine from all over the world are looking to see whats going on in my life?

Unsure...

I'm lying in bed after a wonderful, though strange evening with the Roomie and a couple of friends. This week has been trying, to say the least, emotionally. After dealing with, though there is no after-I still am, the HIV reputation situation other things have started to pop up as well.

For Starters, there is Fishhook. I am pretty sure he knows this is his nickname, but I am doubtful he is reading this. He has completely swept me off of my feet! After both agreeing that we didn't want to date anyone or be with anyone seriously, we have grown so used to, fond of, and comfortable with each-other so very quickly. I worry about what happens next. All week this week we spent most of our time together. We did many things to prepare him for his trip to Vegas, including creating pads and styling wigs for him to wear. This will be only the second night I've had to sleep without him, and I'm already miserable...

I had lunch with an Ex today. It was an interesting experience to say the least. There is still, and will always be that elephant in the room with us, I think. There will always be the questioning from his side about why we broke up, when and where it happened. He seems to think there was another man, or a reason for my realizing it wasn't going to work.. I wish I knew how to explain it to him, but he has always thought he knew and understood more than he did... He kept it mostly to himself, but the feeling was there... That lunch, though quite nice, drained me...

I'm not sure where this is all going, or if it should go anywhere.. I think I'm too tired to be coherent in my writing tonight.

One thing I know for sure is that I have been hurt, and hurt others too many times. So while my Fishhook is in Vegas on his vacation I will spend some time reflecting on whether or not I should try with another guy at all......

Sweet Dreams