It's better now

Dear folx (never thought I would use that form of address):

I began writing a really good post yesterday but it went to nowhere land because either I pushed the wrong button or because of blogspot. Who knows?

Sigh.

At any rate I went through some of my blog from last summer and spring and found it often interesting and somewhat moving if over repetitive and of course overwhelmingly familiar to me.

I think what it all boiled down to was, from a line in one post, “I am still vulnerable to crack.” I am so tired of that, and I’m sure you are too.

What is a burning necessity to write about?

Understanding what happened December 4 and 5 in Albany.

To be honest, I am really fucked up in that I didn’t know or understand that there was no love and no fun in the way I acted. My exact love was not toward AC or NG, but toward the mess that I fetish zed as my “position” intellectually and emotionally in this world. I now know that I was fearful, that I was nothing to myself. If that had not been the case I would have been aware how dreadfully awry the visit was going much earlier than I did.

A little bit of awareness and love would have made everything much easier. I of course always claim those qualities as my watchwords. I cannot say that with regard to either AC or NG I was capable of understanding what they wanted or needed.

More specifically, I was a bitch.

If I could go back and live through all that again, I would have told AC that I was concerned about her, not that she was a “loser.”

I would not have withdrawn so completely into my shell to please my phantom version of what I thought she wanted, and thereby provoked both of us into anger and depression.

I disrespected especially AC.

It’s clear to me that fame and beauty and common human courtesy/consideration were nowhere near compatible.

I thought that I ought to rule the habitation. Why? Because I was a woman who could be free to do whatever I wanted simply because I thought I was good. The proof of that was in my internalized suffering. Gotit? Puritanism.

I hope that someday I will be able to acknowledge in person that I was a fearful, fearsome bitch and that despite my forgetting “why I liked her” that she was and is a woman with life worth both respect and caring for itself intrinsically and also as a great example of insight and of the wielding of the Goddess’s will.


So for now that is what I have to say. There’s only one way out of this mess and that’s to let Her Will be done.

Blessed Be,

A seeker for forgiveness.