Archive for August, 2013

Sometimes we create our own reality when the desire for something we are denied pulls bags over the truth and replaces it with warm fluffy illusions. But fantasy has an expiration date and no one can know exactly when that’ll be. When time runs out our minds take the fall for a desperate heart and cloud nine dissipates under the evil truth.

alone-on-the-playground

That is the day I realized I was different from everyone else. I remember sitting on the merry-go-round across the street in daycare wondering why me? I spent a lot of time on the broken ride watching the other kids run around playing tag, kick ball, trying to make hoops in the too high basket. They didn’t want to play with me anymore. A month ago, by accident, I let my secret out. I didn’t mean to. Mommy said that there are others out there like me, but not to tell my friends because they wouldn’t understand. Why would my friends abandon me for something that I didn’t have any control over? It didn’t make any sense. I stuck by Tommy when he sneezed in the library and got snot on his book and everyone called him snotty Tommy for a week.

Okay so this is what happened. Me, Tommy and Annabel were playing hopscotch. Katie and Greg were yelling at each about the rules to a game they’d made up. They always make up games and they always spend most of playground time fighting about the rules. Billy as usual swung high on a swing. Raymond and Mark were teeter-tottering.    

I threw the rock into square three and was about to hop into one when Cornelius appeared. I mean literally… appeared.  He’d been appearing to me for as long as I can remember. This wasn’t a normal visit. Cornelius looked very upset. He kept pointing at Billy. I saw a terrible sight in my head and started screaming. I yelled at Billy to get off the swing and go inside. I screamed at everyone to go inside. Ms. Cane stomped toward me. She would take me inside and Billy would get hurt, really hurt or die. I ran to Billy’s favorite action figure leaning against the fence, grabbed it and ran toward the door. Billy jumped off the swing and ran after me. All the other kids and teachers ran after me, following me into the cafeteria. That’s when the big boom came. A loud crashing sound that hurt my ears. Everyone froze. I ran to the window and saw a car on fire with part of the swing set inside the front window. Cornelius Appeared again, just outside the window I glared out from. He looked so happy, jumping up and down clapping his hands doing our funny dance. I laughed and starting dancing along with him. That’s when everyone tore their eyes away from the sounds of glass breaking outside to gape at me. “Cornelius saved Billy’s life,” I blurted out.   

Ms. Cane ushered us into another room, further from the playground. Sirens drowned out the roar of fire. Ms. Cane pulled me aside and asked me who Cornelius was. I told her he was my imaginary friend. I also said that he showed me what would’ve happened if I didn’t get Billy off the swing set. Mark called out to the others that I had an imaginary friend and all the kids started to laugh. Ms. Cane shushed him.

But it was too late.

Now a month later no one would talk to me. They weren’t mean or anything. They just wouldn’t talk to me. Cornelius looked down on me from the window. He was sad, too. I started decided to count the bricks on the building across the street when a shadow crossed my view. Billy stood over me and then sat in front of Jiminy Cricket and handed me an Oreo cookie.  I looked at the cookie. I looked at him and then I looked at the others playing. He took a bite of his cookie and said, “Thank you for saving my life, Mary.”

I said all I could say. “You’re welcome.”

Weekly Writing Challenge: 1,000 Words

  

That is the day I realized I was different from everyone else. I remember sitting on the merry-go-round across the street in daycare wondering why me? I spent a lot of time on the broken ride watching the other kids run around playing tag, kick ball, trying to make hoops in the too high basket. They didn’t want to play with me anymore. A month ago, by accident, I let my secret out. I didn’t mean to. Mommy said that there are others out there like me, but not to tell my friends because they wouldn’t understand. Why would my friends abandon me for something that I didn’t have any control over? It didn’t make any sense. I stuck by Tommy when he sneezed in the library and got snot on his book and everyone called him snotty Tommy for a week.

Okay so this is what happened. Me, Tommy and Annabel were playing hopscotch. Katie and Greg were yelling at each about the rules to a game they’d made up. They always make up games and they always spend most of playground time fighting about the rules. Billy as usual swung high on a swing. Raymond and Mark were teeter-tottering.    

I threw the rock into square three and was about to hop into one when Cornelius appeared. I mean literally… appeared.  He’d been appearing to me for as long as I can remember. This wasn’t a normal visit. Cornelius looked very upset. He kept pointing at Billy. I saw a terrible sight in my head and started screaming. I yelled at Billy to get off the swing and go inside. I screamed at everyone to go inside. Ms. Cane stomped toward me. She would take me inside and Billy would get hurt, really hurt or die. I ran to Billy’s favorite action figure leaning against the fence, grabbed it and ran toward the door. Billy jumped off the swing and ran after me. All the other kids and teachers ran after me, following me into the cafeteria. That’s when the big boom came. A loud crashing sound that hurt my ears. Everyone froze. I ran to the window and saw a car on fire with part of the swing set inside the front window. Cornelius Appeared again, just outside the window I glared out from. He looked so happy, jumping up and down clapping his hands doing our funny dance. I laughed and starting dancing along with him. That’s when everyone tore their eyes away from the sounds of glass breaking outside to gape at me. “Cornelius saved Billy’s life,” I blurted out.   

Ms. Cane ushered us into another room, further from the playground. Sirens drowned out the roar of fire. Ms. Cane pulled me aside and asked me who Cornelius was. I told her he was my imaginary friend. I also said that he showed me what would’ve happened if I didn’t get Billy off the swing set. Mark called out to the others that I had an imaginary friend and all the kids started to laugh. Ms. Cane shushed him.

But it was too late.

Now a month later no one would talk to me. They weren’t mean or anything. They just wouldn’t talk to me. Cornelius looked down on me from the window. He was sad, too. I started decided to count the bricks on the building across the street when a shadow crossed my view. Billy stood over me and then sat in front of Jiminy Cricket and handed me an Oreo cookie.  I looked at the cookie. I looked at him and then I looked at the others playing. He took a bite of his cookie and said, “Thank you for saving my life.”

I said all I could say. “You’re welcome.” And ate my cookie.

We all seek out that perfect emotional, biological and spiritual balance. Some try to build a bubble that prevents pain and conflict from affecting them. Others use man made elixirs to escape into a fog of nothing. What kind of life is that? To be healthy we must forgo that journey to the bubble and face every challenge head on. Act on our instincts and do what we have to do to grow. What we truly desire is that moment when a challenge is nothing more than a way to learn a lesson or treat defeat as just another challenge. Most of us go through life taking everything personally. Why? Because whatever has been said or done to you triggers something you lived through, faced or are trying to avoid. The secret to dealing with such trepidation is to realize, everyone is experiencing the same struggle. We all have tempestuous demons to tame.

Fragments

Posted: August 11, 2013 in life lessons
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We are bits and pieces of ourselves. Cut and paste from others. Memories of before. Experiences through a child’s eyes and understanding. We are not us until we cut and chisel those jagged edges off. Reveal the truth beneath. Accept and own our flaws. Love what we’ve uncovered. Embrace the courage it took to find our story. Hone the strength to persevere. Face those who judge with a confident smile. Be the star and director of our movie. Only then will those pieces that don’t fit fall away to uncover the beautiful you.

Never be afraid of being yourself. I know. I did it for years. Adapted, morphed, changed who I was for every person I met. It’s exhausting and painful. When they leave, you wonder which part you got wrong. And it’s worse if they stay. You fall deeper into the role you created and lose yourself somewhere in the spiraling descent. Be yourself. Those who stay love you for you. Those who leave… well it’s really about them and what they can’t handle. You are you for a reason and only your higher conscience knows. I like you for you. The good and the bad. I love celebrating your victories and picking you up off the floor after a epic fumble. Hey I know how because someone did it for me on more than one occasion.  I love who you are and so should you!

] Going fast in a fishing boat out in the bay by my grandmother’s house. The smell of fresh gnocchi laid out on a table while tomato sauce simmers on the stove. My cousins, we called ourselves the wacky cousins, sang and danced in the basement to grease and songs on old 45s. Being yelled at for dropping a stone on my cousin Ralph’s head. I don’t know why I did it. Fighting in the house in the middle of the night waking me up. My father coming home and getting drunk. He was a cop.  abad one. The fighting over other woman and the lies he spewed to us that we believed until we got older. Playing o the stairs at my Mom’s mom’s house while they played cards. Sometimes grandma’s friend took off their shirts and we had to stay outside. I remember a reoccurring dream where I was afraid of the basement and would always end up locked down there. Running from my father. I don’t know if it was a dream. but I felt real all these years. I remember my sister and mother fighting. My sister had what she wanted to do and my mother had other ideas. I remember the moment I realized why my mother was so protective. I matured a lot that day and decided to stay in the dark so as not to cause her more fear.  I remember the hell I went through in school. Sometime after kindergarten I developed a target on my back. I never knew why and now I don’t care. I remember being spit on, made fun of and even taunted into fights. Fighting was easy. I was used to that, but I didn’t gain skill and confidence until much later on so I didn’t always win. I do now. I remember making my first really good friends. fellow outcasts. My family would question me as to why these were my friends. They didn’t get it. These people were like me. Different, weird and socially inept… like me. And they were there for me. But like everyone else people saw them for what they looked like or their unique outlook on life. I am a better person today for having such broad minded misfits in my life. I remember the day my father went to jail. It’s when I stull cared about him. I didn’t really think he would go. Who would? I went to school and broke down. My best friend and a teacher let me cry. High school is where I was rewarded for all I’d been through.

I met who would be the best person in my life, My husband. The moment our eyes met my world changed. Because of my father, I hated men, but this boy floored all my hate, picked me up and lifted me onto cloud nine. I remember being conflicted. I loved this boy instantly but there was no way in hell I would let him hurt me. If my father could do what he did to a beautiful loyal woman like my mother, who was I to be treated any better. Billy was persistent. Called everyday. We talked more than once everyday. We would hang out. He introduced me to dungeons and dragons. lol. My mother, at the time, basically pushed me out the door because I was such a home body. Of course later when she realized I had feelings for him, she did everything to break us up. Her fears reared their ugly heads. She didn’t understand that he gave me security, unconditional love, loyalty above and beyond the call of duty. Initially I gave him hell. My fears grew teeth and bit hard. Yet through every stupid test I put him through he stayed and just loved me.  (this has not been proofread or edited in any way. I hope you like it. Ill read it in a few days)

Works in progress

Posted: August 5, 2013 in life lessons
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The heart is not right. the heart is not wrong. The heart inspires us to move forward.

Permanence

Posted: August 4, 2013 in life lessons
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Tattoos like love have the same type of permanence. The end of both can be painful and cause tears.

About

Posted: August 2, 2013 in life lessons
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I spent a lot of the last nine years learning who I really am. Before then my life was simple, I didn’t have one. As a child I kept to myself, being bullied six hours a day, five days a week will do that to a young soul. I did have my family, a quite extensive family, a lot of aunts and uncles and cousins. We got together on weekends, but eventually everyone grows older and the play dates are no longer with cousins. And you have fewer distractions from the worse parts of your life and you’re forced to burrow deeper inside yourself. Home life had interesting cycles. The war zone, love and escape. My father caused all the wars, still does, but I gave myself an honorable discharged after my mother passed away. She was the reason I fought so hard. My mother loved us more than life itself, but her fears ruled her mind and me and my siblings were held in a tight grip close to her heart. Her fears killed her young. At the age of 53 she succumbed to cancer two years after my first daughter was born. So now I had my own children to protect. And from I learned when I grew up, I stood between them and the rest of the world, including my husband. It didn’t matter that my husband adored me and our children and that he proved himself as a loving husband and father every day. My father pretended to be trustworthy. His lies were believable because we wanted them to be true. I mean what father doesn’t love his children? My father. Well I was doing exactly what my mother did, except I had no reason to. And then cancer invaded the most personal depths of my sanctum and my life changed. All of my walls came crashing down and the world opened up. Suddenly I had to rely on others. And my life became full and interesting right before my very sick eyes…