In a brief quietness before composing, I asked and answered myself this way.... “I never get what I ask for. I only get what is intended for me.”
Particularly true. Because I have never really wanted more than I already had.
The strangest thing about myself in my opinion of me, is that I actually joined the U.S. Navy right out of high school. I have no real idea why. And here I am fifty-something, still fascinated with the old Navy as well as the new. But I want it out of my blood, so I can try and be somebody else to the world besides this repressed patriot. I am a peace monger, after all.
And as beautiful as all the people I've served with are, I am just so exhausted with handing over to the government my sense of pride in Americana. That alone, at this point in time, belongs only, as a descendant of slaves, to my ancestors.
What I’m trying to understand about me, is what do I want?
When I was a single mom I didn’t have anything compared to say, the likes of Renee. I remember back in the early two thousands, her asking me why I hadn’t bought a house. I also remember her telling me she was fulfilled by overtime pay, and has had up to the three jobs at a time to give her children everything they needed. I have never envied people like her. I always wanted to be rescued from that slavery.
And so it is.
Concussion Recovery Syndrome for two plus years, now.
A war has been waged between my heart and my brain about what to do with the other half of my life. A losing battle for my heart, as traumatic brain injury tends to debase and even cripple creativity, desire and motivation. I’m telling ya’ll it is worst than constipation.
Not employed and not ‘legally’ disabled, I could use some wealth. Cash. Excessive amounts of it. Which is supposed to represent freedom and choices. My brain has told my soul, “I am not doing any inauthentic and or laborious shit for income.”
That rules out marriage for the sake of marriage.
And working hard is only worth discussing at this point.
My body, my libido, my soul, my senses, my energy and heart are thinking -on the contrary. They want to do all kinds of rebelling and selling and telling and making and traveling for a living. "We’ve got to eat," they say. And they prefer organic.
So God. Take everything away that makes no sense for my existence. The politics, my empathy and organized religion. Wait. Not religion. Leave it. I need something fun to fester over. And do you mind if I keep caffeine? I haven’t had much lately, 'til tonight. I needed to be up late to write.
Plus, the ideology of wokeness requires awakeness. The past two years, I’ve abided in brain healing slumber. My oft drug treated dreams conjure nightly acts of terror that exhaust me to no end. Yet being awake during this pandemic has plunged me into deeper boredom. Just enough to get a little healing done. But the one nice thing is, when you are rested, you can also hope.
Not for me though. I don’t want any of that hope for myself, either. #iAM exhausted of wanting and hoping for something more or better. I am closer to content than the world seems to want me to be. Write that book! Here’s a call for entry!
All else I think I want aside from the aforementioned future from modern enslavement and being just over broke, is more book shelves, a gourmet kitchen, a spa bath, an indoor pool, and a huge sound proof room for drumming with my drum circle friends. -And my masters of art degree. -for the hell-of-it.
Equally crucial is safety and rich experiences for my Indigo. The reason why I am truly here. Every aspect of her scholarship has been evident since early childhood, and I won'’t have her betrayed.
It is 3:33AM, Tuesday August 31. #iAM a new radical for wanting nothing more or better - for enrichment. I can live in peace, in gratitude of this consciousness. #getyousome
Anyone can teach you about love. I can make you good at it.
| Photo & Prose by Jackie D. Rockwell |All Rights Reserved © 2008-2021 |