She didn’t see it happening. It just hit like a tidal wave sweeping her mind, body, and soul into the ocean of doubt. Renown for being the one most firmly planted in capability, the one you could rely on, she finally burst. One morning around 4a just after a short sleep; she slipped away into madness.
She doesn’t know her name anymore. After a cathartic sobbing, watching her emotions wash away in the tide; she switched off. She is numb. A long swim in the cold ocean can do that to you. You just stop struggling, cease trying to keep up and allow mother earth to swallow you whole. Then the silence. Sound stops. You are one with yourself, finally at peace.
The plan was for this to be the month of completion: a new short film, 2 album projects, another cycle around the sun – this one landing squarely on 55-years-of-life. Born on 11/22, she always self-revered in the double digit years running around in her mind like Rocky Balboa reaching the top of the steps, arms stretched high in triumph. A more powerful water tiger energy would ensue and fill her days of November with a sense of accomplishment in those years.
The exception: 2017. The problem arose and struck like a nail not being driven through cement when she discovered that nothing was getting done completely. Each day would drip into the next as the work piled on. She felt like the inbox never got less, but rather increased exponentially, arrhythmically beating her into submission to work longer hours, more days. They all became one with only a tiny percentage of relief in 5-6 hours of sleep and a brisk walk now and again. She stood before her students putting on a show; another round of the tears of a clown and there she was doing her best to inspire, enlighten, and finally if all else failed cajole the lackluster ones with extra points here and there just to get them across the finish line to a passing grade. She took great liberty every semester to come up with something new and engaging for each class. But the complication grew from a small growth found on an arm to a huge internal capture of every fiber of her being. She lashed out at friends, colleagues, family. She writhed in mental anguish after her diatribes, steeped in a dark tea of sorrow and regret. Then, the snap.
Particularly, this Independence Day, July 4, 2017, offers not much to celebrate about America.
- Our natural beauty and environment is under attack by the people currently in power who pretend to love America and make her “great again” by reversing at least 30 environmental rules. “Scott Pruitt has moved to undo, delay or otherwise block more than 30 environmental rules, a regulatory rollback larger in scope than any other over so short a time in the agency’s 47-year history, according to experts in environmental law.” (NYT, July 1, 2017)
- Aren’t you celebrating Pruitt/Trump’s EPA in their rescinding the “Clean Water Rule?” (National Law Review, June 30, 2017) If you don’t know a lot about the Clean Water Act, here is a brief history. Read it quickly because our current government may likely amend the page to change the tone of the history.
- Have you seen the fascist NRA recruitment video raising their voice in a call-to-arms of civil war in America? (Washington Post, June 29, 2017)
- Land of the free? Hardly with
- All while the Commander in Chief tweets as Rome burns:
If this short list of offenses over the past 2 days isn’t enough to make you feel the vibe of the Red, White, and Blue celebration day; look at one of our warships sailing 12 nautical miles into South China Sea near a disputed island in a seemingly antagonistic poke at Xi Jinping. (The Guardian, July 2, 2017)
We are veering closer to world war enflamed with a civil war here at home with this pugnacious bully ruining our reputation and bolstering the lunacy of the far right. The U.S. is morally bankrupt. He holds a 57% of American disapproval of his job performance which is more people than voted in the last election. Those of us who took the time to vote and rejected Trump as a candidate are deeply wounded. There seems to be no end in sight as the Republicans work in secret to secure their coup of our government to rollback regulation (financial, environmental, health, et al) to please their corporate sponsors.
Sorry to be so unhappy July 4th to all. There is nothing to celebrate at this time.
Heartbreak shows itself in many forms. When you have lived a full life, you know the feeling when it hits you. It’s sudden. You can be completely at peace and content in one moment and then: WHAM! It strikes like a bolt of lighting in the minute you realize that something is not right, askew, dysfunctional. Your heart starts to pound faster and harder; beads of sweat can be felt on your face and scalp; your five million hair follicles all over your body rise up to attention like the soldiers of the Korean People’s Army marching for their leader. Extreme anger ensnared with desolation overcomes your entire being. A convulsive reflex sends a bit of the meal you just ate to the top of your mouth. Trembling fingers can’t quite hold the pen to the paper as you consider a response.
How many of us have walked into a room where you find the person you are in a committed relationship with caught in a moment of orgasmic rapture with another human who is not you. This betrayal is one form of heartbreak.
How many of us have felt the loss of a loved one passing? That Rock of Gibraltar in your life who seemed to calm the waters, make the sun shine, and steady the ship just disappears. This lonely emotional desertion is another form of heartbreak.
How many of us have held someone in such high regard with the kind of respect that is bestowed upon people who do good deeds only to find one day that they are not the person whom you thought they were. They do something so profoundly common that negates the good will that you thought pervaded their entire being. They perform an action that is completely antithetical to the personal motto they showcase to others. This disappointment is another form of heartbreak.
- the feeling of sadness or displeasure caused by the nonfulfillment of one’s hopes or expectations.
- a person, event, or thing that causes disappointment.
I’ve had too many of these throughout my life and it’s not like I have huge and unclear expectations of others. But I have been a helping type of individual since I was a little girl; a giver who asks not much in return because the positivity one feels inside from giving is worth everything. What often happens is an individual or a group takes advantage of that and you find yourself in the difficult position of needing to withdraw. Then sadness seeps in.
Here is a fascinating article on the science behind heartbreak.
I will find a way to curve that straight line again.
Be not simply good; be good for something.
The great use of life is to spend it for something that outlasts it.
In a gentle way, you can shake the world.
Finding myself in a rinse * repeat quotidian cycle of the 45 incubus sucking the life out of a sleeping America, I change the channel away from the noise to the
Uh, yeah. I’m not embarrassed to claim it. There is nothing else that takes me away in a sonic Calgon Bath other than this Channel 68. It wipes away the scum of anger and outrage over the scurrilous performance of a sitting President, his family, his cabinet, and the entire Republican party. In a push of a button, I have entered Middle Earth where the loving power of the fairest Elf, Galadriel, hovers above and in front of me backlit by the engulfing warmth of radiant light.
Nope, I haven’t smoked nor ingested anything to convert my demeanor other than the CHANNEL on my RADIO. Today’s morning programming description: Greet the sun with relaxing and soothing sounds, the best in new age and ambient music from around the world. You’ll hear Enya, Will Ackerman and more.
Is it tuning out? Indeed! And it’s more than that because it allows me to TUNE IN and re-center myself. Did I ever think I would be this person? It’s one thing to step into a spa treatment for an hour or more to immerse yourself into another world which includes hearing this music to drown out the daily chatter, but to live every day listening to it? You bet. It’s the one thing that truly refreshes and washes me clean of the vile news cycle. I need an escape from the unseemly reality of American politics. En route to anywhere, I immediately switch from an angry imp to a caring celestial being with one-push-of-a-button.
I just now switched it on through my computer to my studio monitors and the music of Robert Carty/Sylken in a piece titled “Deep Distance” resonates around my room. Ahhhhh
Posted in Music, People, Politics, Writing
Tagged 45, Calgon Bath, Channel 68, Galadriel, Incubus, President, radio, Republican Party, Sirius XM, Spa Channel
AWe have visual confirmation that Trump remains completely friendly to the Kremlin and Putin by this photo (among others) taken by the Russian Press (since the American Press was not allowed into the Oval Office during their meetings).
We know that Putin backs the heinous Assad regime in Syria.
From 2015, we learn that Assad won’t fight ISIS because he profits from it.
From April 15, 2017, Syria’s Assad is ‘Inextricably Connected’ to Islamic State.
Cut the rhetoric. Cut the bullshit. Cut the pretend games of sending 54 Tomahawk missiles to destroy NOTHING in Syria, not even the Syrian Air Force runway those 54 missiles should have damaged irreparably. Stop making vacant outbursts about your plan to defeat ISIS while you do nothing about it. STOP PRETENDING to be against ISIS while maintaining your support for Putin and his regime who supports Assad who supports ISIS. Why do Assad, Putin, and therefore you, DJT, actually support ISIS? Because you’re all profiting from both the terror and the terrorism while keeping ISIS fed and armed.
And now this from NY Times: Meet the Connection Between Jared Kushner and Putin
REMOVE TRUMP AND HIS ENTIRE CRONY CABINET FROM OFFICE IMMEDIATELY!
There is a crack in the universe where the pain comes in and keeps my mind in a Krampüs-enraged Mental Holocaust. (Lord have mercy…turn this down before you click the play button on song 2 and more at their bandcamp page…)
Can I get a witness? Do ya feel me? The duplicitous quotidian matter before us numerous times per hour (not even by DAY anymore!) feels like wading though the river Styx en route to a stop off in Neverland to pick up the young ones to swallow them whole because they just might make a great face cream to keep you looking young again. “It’s Palmolive: you’re soaking in it.”
The great American Dream has become UNHINGED and is reeling off the charts of negativism. Anger has enveloped the entire world to the point of too-often suicide bombers who bring death and destruction in horrific small doses while 45 sells billions in armaments to Saudi Arabia. What? Peddling massive weapons one day, touching a holy wall the next, meeting with the Pope the next mumbling, “I won’t forget what you said.” (ostensibly about peace)
While 45 takes “heed” to the thought of his tiny hand in making peace, a ReTHUGlicon candidate running for Congress from Montana, Greg Gianforte, commits physical abuse in response to a question by a Guardian Reporter.
We are plunging…
Gustave Doré, 1861
Posted in People, travel, Writing
Tagged Gianforte, Guardian, Gustave Dore', Krampus, Mental Holocaust, Montana, Neverlnad, Pope, Saudi Arabia, unhinged