After many long years of holding that it is unseemly to let others know that you are giving to them, I have decided that it is okay to do so. The alternative is an isolation that amounts to a living death, and if anyone has had to live that way because of my judgment I am profoundly sorry.
I wish I knew how to write.
I'm having a test today of my heart. It turns out the tread mill test that I took last spring shows that my heart is not completely normal. Apparently my former cardiologist failed to notice that or at least failed to notify me of that. So today I have to receive via IV some radioactive isotopes and chemicals that are to stress my heart and show any possible blockages, etc. As you might imagine I am not happy about this. The test will take three hours.
I think I have equated having feelings with being dirty. This may have some relationship to why I did crack, possibly shortening my life by many decades, instead of caring for friends and family. I don't know. Probably I am trying to strengthen myself by doing what I like. It's not working.
With all the will in the world, I wish you and yours a very fulfilling, pleasurable day filled with laughter, beauty and love.
Adios,
Tuesday, November 9, 2010
Monday, November 8, 2010
Friendship and Me (Be Human, JBM)
Best friends.
My friends are beautiful.
As you know, there's a lot of stress that change can involve.
Maybe as the Goddess changed fear and knowledge to beauty and understanding, there is a way that I can make hope a place of protection, safety and warmth, in other words, a home.
A sense of mother wanted good and change as feeling. Maybe if I make life change then there will be a way to be the Goddess's lover. Of course, that will not happen, at least not without the destruction of my own self.
Maybe if change comes and it is loving, I can be hopeful. I suppose I will have to be the one loving the change, and being it. I think that my womanhood had to do with happiness. I think that that is the only way for me to help my will to hope is to live. I want love as my own way of making happiness.
I can't be the sole proprietor.
Trust me for change?
Trust me for knowledge?
Anger does not feel as far as my warmth.
Tell life that maybe I cried life and liked it.
Sarcasm makes mothers change: it is bad to be painful.
Tell mayor of motherhood that my calmness drove to my pain.
As a woman, I tell you that I am pained at darkness of death.
Make love, and tell your mother that it is a way for you to be free.
And I want that way at hope.
[Dear CEG,
I love you. I want to tell you friendship is life when there's love.
I am doing everything that I can to be a peaceful woman. Thank you for loving me and for letting that anger fade into the aether.
Love under Will!
Blessed Be,
Julia (Bright Life Moon?)]
My friends are beautiful.
As you know, there's a lot of stress that change can involve.
Maybe as the Goddess changed fear and knowledge to beauty and understanding, there is a way that I can make hope a place of protection, safety and warmth, in other words, a home.
A sense of mother wanted good and change as feeling. Maybe if I make life change then there will be a way to be the Goddess's lover. Of course, that will not happen, at least not without the destruction of my own self.
Maybe if change comes and it is loving, I can be hopeful. I suppose I will have to be the one loving the change, and being it. I think that my womanhood had to do with happiness. I think that that is the only way for me to help my will to hope is to live. I want love as my own way of making happiness.
I can't be the sole proprietor.
Trust me for change?
Trust me for knowledge?
Anger does not feel as far as my warmth.
Tell life that maybe I cried life and liked it.
Sarcasm makes mothers change: it is bad to be painful.
Tell mayor of motherhood that my calmness drove to my pain.
As a woman, I tell you that I am pained at darkness of death.
Make love, and tell your mother that it is a way for you to be free.
And I want that way at hope.
[Dear CEG,
I love you. I want to tell you friendship is life when there's love.
I am doing everything that I can to be a peaceful woman. Thank you for loving me and for letting that anger fade into the aether.
Love under Will!
Blessed Be,
Julia (Bright Life Moon?)]
Sunday, November 7, 2010
November 7, 2010
I am having a moment and it's a way that change feels as I remember all the troubled emotions that I felt towards my father. Today would have been his 78th birthday. Maybe there's only change and that's the way that people understand that every day must have joys and sorrows together.
I know my father was changing when he was getting older. He at least was able to defend my "being Julia" and to hope that I made the best out of the places I had been.
He, as some of you know, did not accept my transition for years. That's not what I am remembering now.
He made something that was indispensable for my feeling protected and able to foresee a future for myself. That was all the work he did to provide for me as part of his family. I know that the patriarchal model has fatal defects. For one thing I also tried to cling to a way of life that made me separate from the struggle for survival that so many had to face. That has proved to be only partly tenable. I have to make my own way or I will be only one more dependent, as they say in the military world.
I have held him responsible for destructiveness and anger, for supporting a system that hurts the peoples subjected to it. I think now that he did not ever know the social realities that made him who he was. But he never went to a "four - year " college the way I did. He never encountered feelings that I had. I can't make excuses. He could be cruel. But he also had a stability that did not rush from impression to conclusion without at least some degree of consideration. He was from his standpoint fair.
If he were here now, I would be very angry with some of his behavior and some of his attitudes. I would still need and want to redirect his attention to some of those aspects of life with others that he either ignored or never noticed.
I also am grateful for the need he imprinted in me to read, to understand, to make something of myself.
I hope that he finds in his place of repose the knowledge of the feminine that he avoided in himself. I think it would help him a great deal. He was not a natural hater, only someone who was convinced that some things were right and others were wrong. He thought from a kind of conviction that if only everyone behaved according to the rules that everything would be okay. He didn't see the injustice of the rules themselves (except occasionally). Maybe he simply did not believe in himself enough to stand up to the prevailing winds affecting someone of his circumstances. I hope he encounters something gentle wherever he is that will bring that to him.
I suppose most of you are gagging by now. I did have anger and resentment and disappointment with him, and he deserved "re-education."
He smoked. That's what killed him. I think his smoking was for the same reason that most people smoke. It was an escape from the stress of getting by in this world. If he caused stress, he also felt it. He was a smart man who had limits, some within, and some without. If I could take one thing from him, it would be his lack of artifice (by his standards). He could spot pretense. He was an individualist as far as what he advised and in a great deal of what he did.
I do not wish to remain stuck in father-worship. I have been seriously damaged by it.
I know that when I loved him that it was partly out of a wish to please him, to attain the perfection I saw in him.
Now I feel that I don't have to reject him for his existence. He was a human and that is what I wish to remember and to feel for myself.
For Jack Murray, I say, let it be. Be at rest, Dad.
For myself I wish to go on with gratitude for the gifts he gave me and the ability to reject without rancor what I have no need for.
I did what I had to do. I want him to know that. I wanted love and he gave destiny.
The good was change; the terror was pain.
I loved him, not for his manhood, but his beauty.
I know my father was changing when he was getting older. He at least was able to defend my "being Julia" and to hope that I made the best out of the places I had been.
He, as some of you know, did not accept my transition for years. That's not what I am remembering now.
He made something that was indispensable for my feeling protected and able to foresee a future for myself. That was all the work he did to provide for me as part of his family. I know that the patriarchal model has fatal defects. For one thing I also tried to cling to a way of life that made me separate from the struggle for survival that so many had to face. That has proved to be only partly tenable. I have to make my own way or I will be only one more dependent, as they say in the military world.
I have held him responsible for destructiveness and anger, for supporting a system that hurts the peoples subjected to it. I think now that he did not ever know the social realities that made him who he was. But he never went to a "four - year " college the way I did. He never encountered feelings that I had. I can't make excuses. He could be cruel. But he also had a stability that did not rush from impression to conclusion without at least some degree of consideration. He was from his standpoint fair.
If he were here now, I would be very angry with some of his behavior and some of his attitudes. I would still need and want to redirect his attention to some of those aspects of life with others that he either ignored or never noticed.
I also am grateful for the need he imprinted in me to read, to understand, to make something of myself.
I hope that he finds in his place of repose the knowledge of the feminine that he avoided in himself. I think it would help him a great deal. He was not a natural hater, only someone who was convinced that some things were right and others were wrong. He thought from a kind of conviction that if only everyone behaved according to the rules that everything would be okay. He didn't see the injustice of the rules themselves (except occasionally). Maybe he simply did not believe in himself enough to stand up to the prevailing winds affecting someone of his circumstances. I hope he encounters something gentle wherever he is that will bring that to him.
I suppose most of you are gagging by now. I did have anger and resentment and disappointment with him, and he deserved "re-education."
He smoked. That's what killed him. I think his smoking was for the same reason that most people smoke. It was an escape from the stress of getting by in this world. If he caused stress, he also felt it. He was a smart man who had limits, some within, and some without. If I could take one thing from him, it would be his lack of artifice (by his standards). He could spot pretense. He was an individualist as far as what he advised and in a great deal of what he did.
I do not wish to remain stuck in father-worship. I have been seriously damaged by it.
I know that when I loved him that it was partly out of a wish to please him, to attain the perfection I saw in him.
Now I feel that I don't have to reject him for his existence. He was a human and that is what I wish to remember and to feel for myself.
For Jack Murray, I say, let it be. Be at rest, Dad.
For myself I wish to go on with gratitude for the gifts he gave me and the ability to reject without rancor what I have no need for.
I did what I had to do. I want him to know that. I wanted love and he gave destiny.
The good was change; the terror was pain.
I loved him, not for his manhood, but his beauty.
Saturday, November 6, 2010
Home is changing
I thought for a while (a long while) that knowledge made people feel happy.
I was wrong.
The practice of the distribution and production of knowledge is a kind of gossip, may I say, moosy gossip.
I have been trying to extract from others clues to the nature of my own feelings and actions. In return I have reflected to them my feelings about their actions and hopes, dreams and fears.
I now must know that change can destroy life.
Life likes to preserve itself as much as subject itself to change.
Destruction is a kind of change. I believe that I need not make life any more vulnerable or damaged than it already is.
Somehow I have become very troubled. Somehow I made changes that created feelings that were terrible in others and in myself.
Teach me, if you would, what is change?
I have begun to live without people who can let me understand what strength can make people feel.
Therefore I am very changeable, having no emotional support that is familiar with my nature. Perhaps I asked for something that I was unwilling to provide in return.
Thank you for much love.
If I ever live long enough to like you as you wish, to be the friend you need, I'll have to have become the kind of person that was always ready to like happiness.
Me very troubled.
A woman.
I was wrong.
The practice of the distribution and production of knowledge is a kind of gossip, may I say, moosy gossip.
I have been trying to extract from others clues to the nature of my own feelings and actions. In return I have reflected to them my feelings about their actions and hopes, dreams and fears.
I now must know that change can destroy life.
Life likes to preserve itself as much as subject itself to change.
Destruction is a kind of change. I believe that I need not make life any more vulnerable or damaged than it already is.
Somehow I have become very troubled. Somehow I made changes that created feelings that were terrible in others and in myself.
Teach me, if you would, what is change?
I have begun to live without people who can let me understand what strength can make people feel.
Therefore I am very changeable, having no emotional support that is familiar with my nature. Perhaps I asked for something that I was unwilling to provide in return.
Thank you for much love.
If I ever live long enough to like you as you wish, to be the friend you need, I'll have to have become the kind of person that was always ready to like happiness.
Me very troubled.
A woman.
Wednesday, November 3, 2010
Major problems
I am tired of you dying
Save me; Goddess changed me.
I feel changed.
And that's foolish as me.
Life is money or why am tribes?
Grapple, teach, understand
Treat me like hell
Answer is make me feel
John the Sixteenth
Mangled a woman
She tried to glow
I wanted many hopes
Cruelty
Bart deals pain
I love his old lady
She wanted nothing
Mother
Can you know what me change?
Ask to want love
Ask to be West
Like Tribes?
Another feeling of Goddess
She wanted nothing
I gave client
Sexy
Man crawled back
Sly old pagan
Charged me pork
Feelings
Another way to want her
Straw changed life
Me want lust
A crackhead
Density of men
Is Truth
Ask to love
Men of tribe
Get woman home
Love her mother
Change life to help
Ask for drawings
Sexually angry to make pain
No one wanted life
At brown
Flow
Answers pawn kindness
Mother minds foal
Create Julia
Mother of claws
Deal with my comb
I produce money
That's pain
Strike
Or love
As you have read these words, there has been a fearful entry.
Save me; Goddess changed me.
I feel changed.
And that's foolish as me.
Life is money or why am tribes?
Grapple, teach, understand
Treat me like hell
Answer is make me feel
John the Sixteenth
Mangled a woman
She tried to glow
I wanted many hopes
Cruelty
Bart deals pain
I love his old lady
She wanted nothing
Mother
Can you know what me change?
Ask to want love
Ask to be West
Like Tribes?
Another feeling of Goddess
She wanted nothing
I gave client
Sexy
Man crawled back
Sly old pagan
Charged me pork
Feelings
Another way to want her
Straw changed life
Me want lust
A crackhead
Density of men
Is Truth
Ask to love
Men of tribe
Get woman home
Love her mother
Change life to help
Ask for drawings
Sexually angry to make pain
No one wanted life
At brown
Flow
Answers pawn kindness
Mother minds foal
Create Julia
Mother of claws
Deal with my comb
I produce money
That's pain
Strike
Or love
As you have read these words, there has been a fearful entry.
Tuesday, November 2, 2010
Monday, November 1, 2010
Words from instinct
How the hell does change make life hopeful?
Is there any way that change is a better way than darkness?
I believe that change happens when life is made grueling.
When you let people be, they are strong.
When you make people sick, then you are crazy.
I want to give what happened and that's change.
I want to give what anger did: people as me.
I do love needing good, and that's strength.
Maybe you will know what change gives: flow.
As flowing makes failure change, so does my own love make help anger.
Sharing is true but change is nerdy. I am nerdy.
Bring good and I am loving.
Make change and I am troubling.
It's change that is at death.
I liked that bargain.
When people do like me, I am charged with process.
Deal with my knowledge and that's the hope for this.
Is there any way that change is a better way than darkness?
I believe that change happens when life is made grueling.
When you let people be, they are strong.
When you make people sick, then you are crazy.
I want to give what happened and that's change.
I want to give what anger did: people as me.
I do love needing good, and that's strength.
Maybe you will know what change gives: flow.
As flowing makes failure change, so does my own love make help anger.
Sharing is true but change is nerdy. I am nerdy.
Bring good and I am loving.
Make change and I am troubling.
It's change that is at death.
I liked that bargain.
When people do like me, I am charged with process.
Deal with my knowledge and that's the hope for this.
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