no edit birthday blog…

it’s my birthday, almost two more hours left. i made it special after the kool-aid man broke through my wall and then i could see. hello, i want to be seen. i am a rescue dog. i am nothing above. i am goddess. i am dork. i am is a western way to relate to life anyways. but lets not slam it. each side can grow toxins. this realm is intense. emotions ooze out like jelly. i make pretend. i say, “nothing i say is true, ” to make them laugh, but something else is underneath. who even knows? she does and always says i take things so seriously. for sure. it’s who i am. no design flaw. i am i am i am, the western jingle. don’t judge it, krishna. i like nineties r&b pop hip-hop. i get moved by more saturated emotions even if the observer is alway watching it. many perspectives, many facets. many, many, many. pictures of myself i actually like. cutting my bangs successfully to look like karen’s bangs. wearing as skull to keep joanna with me, we share the same birthday, she told me to enjoy being alive, to not feel guilty. at lunch saying with complete passion, “i am here to tell the story of mu and everything else is secondary,” with absolute certainty while another part of watched myself, thinking, “really?”  many, many, may. no guilt for being five or six. no guilt for being powerful and meant to be. no guilt for being the way you are. be you, exactly. this is what has been stolen. he shared his story of connecting with this heritage, his blood, his multigenerational karma, his heart. the story of systematic oppression, cultural and one’s sovereignty.  the story of beauty, connection with earth, respect for the earth. so much anger. so much love. cognitive dissonance. bringing it like a scorpio. who can handle me? who will ever be able to surf these waters? somebody will. her salty approach and how she brings it out in me, salty bitches we can be. i am coolio and i am gwen stefani. i am eponine. i am anais and henry. i am jesus and mary. i am isis, osiris, and horus. i am not afraid of the this darkness. wanting to rewrite the bible verse into a way i can feel it. i am not afraid of the darkness no, all i fear is the moment you see me and i could just dissolve. it’s the little things. it’s always the teeny tiny moments that get lost in time but grow in the heart like ivy vines. she said that anointing with oil was like a bear lick. i fell into the beauty of those words. hey now, hey now, don’t dream it’s over. when the world comes in and they come to put to put a wall between us…they won’t win. hell no. she is in a dying phase. he is in a rising phase. she is in a discernment phase. he is in a remember his roots phase. if only this was jazz. neil finn bringing it home. he brings me home, he sings the way i know love. falling in love, falling at your feet. old memories. not enough. not right. missing the mark. letting go of the fight. can you let go? whenever i touch your slow turning pain…oh neil, oh neil….when will i ever come down from this amethyst tower? let your tears rain down on me….singing….whenever i touch your slow turning pain….the finger of blame has turned upon itself….neil’s words. i better end this slow faucet dripping blog of thoughts and feelings untouched and touched….time to fall into sleep….

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