The Men in My Life are not Just New...Family

12:12am Tuesday January 2, 2013




Well/
Who knew I would be writing so prolifically. On a spur graphic at that.

Tonight, New Years 2013/ After my family of women had our holiday meal and gathering, I went to visit my cousin/sister Vanessa in Santa Cruz. We had a few hours before her brother, a returning repatriate, returned home from his day's out and limes. We spoke of his views of the States, his new appreciation and review for the culture Trinidad is; and where he places himself in all that/ It was about two hours in when I was almost falling asleep on myself, wanting to be home but dreading driving home that he popped hit me with a question that enlivened the evening and drove all sleep from eye, mind and body... Neal asked about my Father.

He asked if I was at peace:\; Okay with our estranged relationship/ He was pushing me to reconciliate with Carl Huggins. Asking me where I was with death and its unknown time and date and inevitable coming. He was asking me if I told Daddy all I had to tell him. It was fascinating In Hindsight/

I tried to tell him to speak to Neal about Acceptance as a Philosophy in my Life Given my recent life experiences and no career and livelihood of the last ten to twelve years/ I had to put in context for him my long relationship with death, early and unexpectant from an all too early age of twenty two when Junior, My Brother was only eighteen. Then my mother at forty nine---the first one in my family, on either side, of that generation, to die in a long time/

I tried to tell him that one does not talk or reason with one who is mad/ With one of no consciousness and awareness. One living in denial/ I never got to use the words that occurred to me as i drove home like broken. fractured fragmented personalities. I did use traumatized and sociopsychopath. I told Neal one does not contend with someone of a lower vibration.

I tried to convey through time by examples and events how much I have been committed and present with my father through time, after so much evil, ugly, and destabilization he has done me. for Years, since 1993 September when his wife and my mother died. You have to draw the line in the sand at some point. It would be madness to do anything less or otherwise. But it seemed like Neal was committed himself to not getting me. So heavy was he in projection of his own handicaps, new revelations and exposures that he could not get what i was saying.

It was only when i rejected his presentation that "i was okay"   I had to ask him what the hell is okay given the prevalence of loss throughout my life. I spoke of my life long intention to be in control and command my determinations that became subzero..that i have had to make peace with; that in deep waters I am not fighting/ I shared with him almost drowning in Maracas as a real life metaphor to survive so much trauma in my life.

We even talked of other painful unbelievable events like when Uncle Leroy cussed me upon my mothers deathbed when she wished and expressed her desire to go to Tortuga to die/ to go to the man she had run away from that all her siblings, especially Leroy and Marjorie had shielded, housed and helped her. The deep betrayal led her elder brother to curse me, trample upon me. my face, visage, body, life and relation. I did not know there were witnesses.

An early agreement between Neal and I was when I said: "imagine my position: hated by both sides because of the conflict of each to the other; so my father is mad at me because i am so close to the Baptiste and the Baptistes are mad at me for not fighting my father for my inheritance, my generational due and what he stole from me via my mother. But i was always good as declaring and deciphering my space and what was not my fight. So i never got tugged either way. As a result, I ended up with allegiance, love and loyalty from neither. I stand solo and alone. Persecuted on all and both sides.    Neal agreed with my assessment.

The conversation would not end. And Neal would not give up. He was was intending to paint me into a corner and situation of being crippled by my emotions for my father, of being" a rat to his piper", of "not showing myself bigger and better" > all wrong perspectives and and wrong dynamics/ none of which my interest or motivation. I have made so much peace with my father, who he is, how crippled, his actions, deeds, history, karma, and reconciliation that he or I may depart this world with nary another word between us. And that is okay. Cause sometimes you just have to walk away for your own health and wellbeing. Neal seemingly could not understand this. And saw it as a negative and saw "acceptance" as bullshit. I had no response or words. I did try to show him the error of his logic when applied to other situations.

He thought it was right of Pedelsia to have a problem for me to ask my Uncle Leroy how he felt about his experience with cancer as he was withering away. But now he wants me to go deal with my father. You cant be okay with my silence and off topic in one arena with one relation, but send me to contend in another relation... Hypocritical and Dissonance Much?

It was quite amazing.
I tried to get Vanessa involved from her perspective but she feigned.
All how Neal tried to batter , coerce and manipulate my stance, I stood my ground/ Maintained we are not having the same conversation and worse yet, he was not learning anything from watching my life lived.

I told him he was projecting. To which he agreed.
And I kind of lose touch with the recall at this point of the conversation. Where it took a turn. Just as we were about to close and agree to disagree. See Neal is new to this. He is still processing the passing of his father , my Uncle and GodFather Pat. And how grand it was done by him. But for Uncle Pat's level of consciousness awakeness in living and intention toward his family members: children and wife. He called them all onto him and spoke, said his thank yous and good byes.  Gave each one his blessing and clarity. Neal is expecting all deaths to be on that height and vibration. Even Vanessa had to tell him that is not the norm. Far from it.

But the real fat lady swan song is when he walked me out to my car. Where we tried to bring closure...The closure he seemed to think I did not have with my father...Closure to the conversation. For he asked me what did I think he was doing; and why...We went back and talked about Trauma. I was trying to convey to him how traumatized a persona my father was. To which he mentioned how fascinated he is with my father. And so the truth emerges and bubbles to the top. He mentioned how he lost a son and lost a wife...yet he lives as if he is immortal. And as I write it now, I realize i did not give that comment the gravity and weight it deserves. So profound.  But it allowed me to tell him that is the level of dissonance, and denial and distance within this person that makes conversation impossible.

Neal mentioned to me his source of trauma- feeling unwanted and unvalidated by his father. and How that made him intense and tizic and only when to the end of Uncle Pat's life the Uncle Pat acknowledge him and see all that he was trying to do to keep him alive. And again, parts of the conversation are fading for me. But it was at this point that we really got to an open clear space and ground. I had to overview for Neal all I have stood with Daddy since 1993... That i have tried to do what he thinks I have not done It is done.  Neal explained that seeing the death of his Aunt in London this summer and the fissure and dissonance in that family experience also informed his projections toward me.

Our conversation ended on a high. When he said he finally saw and agree that there was nothing else or more I could do to try to be at peace and in relation with my father. I will amend this chapter when exactly what was said comes back to memory. I know it will.

It was an intense conversation. One I was grateful for. As I do private mental emotional checks with myself from time to time, that if death comes, how comfortable will I be at the dynamic. But I think I am good. I am okay. I am at peace. I have done all I can. I cannot do any more Anything more is spitting in the wind.

And thus was my experience this day and evening of relating all to and about men in my family. Baptiste and Huggins. Parental and Relational. Generational and Cousins.> It is great to have authentic relationships

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amended 12:46pm Thursday January 3, 2013

JEFF BROWN

One thing I have learned with certainty is not to stand in connection with those who diminish me. This is particularly difficult when family is involved, because we have a vested interest in perpetuating the family system for all kinds of different reasons. I don’t believe one should endure abuse no matter how attached they are to an idea of family. There are many families waiting for us (read: soulpod) just outside our habitual awareness. We are not responsible for those who diminish us. We really have to get that. We can be compassionate and we can certainly understand where their abusiveness comes from, but understanding the origins does not mean we have to endure it. Its not our cross to bear.

For Day Two...or a Pic

“We will open the book. Its pages are blank and new. We are going to put words on them ourselves. The book is called opportunity and its first chapter is New Year's Day.” ~Edith Lovejoy Pie

The Cover of the 2013 365 Page Book

Day Two - 2013 - 364 - Write a Good one

 Day Two - Hours Later. Same Day One - January 1 2013 - 10:31am

 



So/ the day two really is still day one. Just hours apart.. I wake up thinking working on conceptualizing the project/ the writing/the form/ the characters/ the structure/ whether to hide identities or not . And whether this book is about Men in My Life. All Men. From the bartenders at Hyatt who take care of me like last night - Stephon only charged me for one Asti, not the two I had.  and neither did he charge me for the club soda I had in between to keep hydrated. It is what I mean when i write, we may not get or have who or what we want a boyfriend, man, mate or companion to keep us company, do things with us or for us, but if our eyes remain receiving and open, we see wh have and get exactly the gifts that are sufficient. I go to Hyatt bar and i em embraced, loved and cared for. And it is not just the males/ Abiola and Valena look out for me.

But the men. And I think again how this book did not begin last night but a few months ago, like June 2012 actually, when I met Curtis Joseph on the corner of my block, it seemed to have opened a season of males in my life; in search of men. a man to call and embrace as my own, a place and source of love and devotion..yadda yadda yadda. And oh what a journey it has been.

from someone, he, CJ who tried to play me hard but only ended up getting played and crushed. His fourtieth birthday and I had no greeting for him. And he clearly never had any woman to place him as so low on the pile to be inconsequential and not deserving of mention or acknowledgment on the day you were living, working and planning toward for months. But if I come to your birthday party and you try to act like you dont know me, have nothing with me, dont see me, and your new girlfriend is passing me by with the food she is serving, then you get blanked. It was bizarre. I have never been so exacting cool and cruel. And it hurt me more than it hurt him/ For awhile. But then I figured it all out and then I got real ecstatic. I was not a woman victim. I gave as good as I got. The issue is these males are not used to women giving/ Just taking their shit. And this was the first time this sociopsychopath ever encountered that. He was undone. This one. This one who assaulted some partner or girlfriend in the states and had to hightail it out of there. A story too that has more gaps than a gully. I suspect boyfriend was deported, but he denies it. He did tell me of the incident and how he perceives he was taunted and pushed. But CJ looked at me. Saw me fixing my car and dropping 8K no scene and felt i had money and I was to be taken and shooken, played and manipulated. He thought i would want him as a boyfriend and so thus equation-- willing to do anything for him. He said we were together in one breath and the next asked me for money. And my response was quick and flowed like water/ "What is the arrangement of that money? Is that a loan; is it a business partnership? Am I getting a cut into the returns, profits: shares?" He was undone outdone. He has refused to speak to me.

I am generally not a throwaway person. I tell you what I got to tell you and I go on/ Unless shit never stop and your bullshit is incessant. So i could have played my hand and time passed and we could have gone on to try to find a new platform of respect and mutual living, but brotherman was more offended than me. Selah. They often are. That is why that saying in Trinidad: Do So Doh Like So

Then from CJ/
 I remember EM the most. The most significant recent. A bomb beautiful perfected kisser with super soft skin. We spent a night together and I was stunned at the level and depth and belly of emotion this man shared with me...His fears and concerns, anxieties and insecurities of his parenting his daughter. And how he said, we would spend much time doing together. And in fact, the man, dont  know if he is a total nerd or what, but the man called me a "porn star". I think i underestimated the extent to which this man must have been drunk no arse. But I believed him. It seemed real. But something happened. By morning I could sense it. But i was still oblivious. And then communications were just one line responses to my inbox tomes. And he never answered my call or responded to a text. But I felt : what and how is sociopathic behavior so common. The most blithe is to ignore communications from another. That is like wiping someone out. They dont exist. Luckily, we have a mutual friend, And they witnessed this hookup as it were...and given the outcome I was given to reflection at the moment of inception where I would swear I saw on the face of the mutual friend, resignation, dejection or some other emotions I was not clear,...but he told me he knew it would not end well. He said to me: "you act like you have a hard exterior, but you are a softy inside; EM acts like he has a hard exterior but he is even harder inside." :O/ i was like WOAH. Then he told me how he has dumped other women who he was seeing, involved with for a long time and just wakes up and dumps them. Then i did not feel so bad. But the fact that a male exposed so much of his heart, innards and belly toward me, So soon, It meant something and that is what I hold onto. And those kisses. Gives me pause. Kisses like that dont come along too often. Who throws such away. ? Who can afford to? I know I cant/ Or couldnt . At least i thought so. You live and learn

Then I meet a guy at a club one Friday night. He asks for my phone number and as I enter it my name pops up/ Amusing. WH/ I never met him but I believe we communicated over email years prior/ He organizes one of the biggest annual events here in the island. Seeming nice sweet guy. At some juncture. I wanted to be friends with his partner. But i think all men think all women are potential hookups . So if you hook up with one they think there is the aim to hook up with the other. And these men dont realize , Sister Here Just wants a stable of men to hang out with . Call Connect. Be the other party while i am out amidst the general population dipsticks. But I am learning to take life as it comes, how it comes, leaving apart my designations, designs and preferences. If no decent partner potentials show up, what am i going to do I think i casually decided in 2012 I was not going to continue as I had been. Waiting for gold when only chaff exists. Gotta ride the bull that is in the gate.

Then in between, the same night, there is AB/ What all these recent men have in common and what is new with me is that they are all in my age group or older. For the whole time, months and years prior, I was only meeting men younger than I. I have this computer and writing on it now because of AB> So i am learning to value people for what they bring to the table and not judge them on all what they are missing from my guideline list...

Then there is KP/ Gold wearing rings and necklace Paramin family man hunter builder
We shall see what stories write themselves...

The New Year 2013/ Write a Good One.  I intend

January 1, 2013 - 365 Book Write a Good One - Day One

January 1, 2013 2:56am

 



This book began a few days ago. On Saturday. When I asked Kevin Pierre to hang out. In the middle of the day.

Actually, the story neither started there. It started a few weeks ago. Perhaps, a month? Maybe more? We were driving on the saddle road through Boissiere, vying for space on the road, two lanes merging into one. I in the lane, He trying to enter. He in his Toyota pick up. I in my CRV. And neither of us giving in. But his back tire bumped mine or my bumper. He felt nothing or acted as if he didnt. I insisted he stopped. Pulled in front of him askance like police. Who is me? This bold five feet two petite. SMH. He agreed to stop. We end up looking for damage. There was none. He never cussed me, though as bold as I acted, I noted he could have. I ended up selling him one of my posters. For $300/ We exchanged numbers and contacts. He eventually called me. To my surprise. Our conversations have been nothing but brief and cursory But Saturday I asked to hang out And through much convulsions and many convolutions, we met. At the Morne Coco Road Maraval. He took me to Paragon Mountain. Driving through terrain that was anything but a road. A clear path to see but not drive. My innards got reshifted i am sure.

We drove around to different spots. A variety of homes on the mountain: Peter Doig's compound holding about four homes. Overlooking the cliff of a building site that he is constructing. Then down to an empty house that I would  occupy. And through more terrain, down the hill driving to the beach, which we bypassed and went onto another building site, where we sat, I ate the soup he made and brought for me. I drank straight whisky, he drank white rhum and we smoked herb. Three rollons.  Never again. From now on i believe we /I will smoke joints. No cigarette nibs.

And then we lingered well past his time to return. Till eight pm. And I had to drive to Indian Walk by myself. But it was as if we did not want to leave each other's company/ Such bullshit. Cute but not. For mature old and married people. He not me..

So it will be interesting to see what this story is. What the 2013 book I am writing is about. And so apt that I begin this writing a year. Writing in a year. Is this telling about him. he, I. or something else of the year entirely? what will get lost, what will come into focus

the backdrop?
my unemployment that continues..
but making US$1225 this month
struggle to find my footing, get a life, acquire my own home, land and holding

Pierre's promise to "introduce me to the right people" to get employed
How will I navigate this dynamic of a friendship with a married man With whom I clearly have some kind of energy. From moment one when we met in apparent conflict. He said on Saturday that he felt "God sent me". I await to see if that is just bullshit, illusion or projection..

But so the story begins. Ostensibly
What is interesting ? This man is a builder. a construction worker. Who Which God Send for Whom? for What? purpose? See what I am saying?

Let the future begin to reveal itself

That High Priestess Nina Simone: Blackness Embodied

i watch this...and first i see her mouth, and her eyes, and her teeth and the way she talks and wonders if that movie being made honors and upholds her enough to emulate that...

then i see and hear her words and i begin to listen...and imbibe who this High Priestess really was...

and then i hear, "this compels me to compel them" and that mulls and turns in my mind a few times then i wake up from the revelry internal that just was and become aware of my chills. and when i become aware of the chills, then tears fill...and then i start to write and share to tell you about this wombmyn that passed before us that is now being denigrated in a film by the choice, easy approaches and wrong actress chosen to indicate, reflect and compel that BLACKNESS this wombmyn was about???!!!

deep
makes me wonder what i can do to take up the mantle.
made me wonder between the chills and the tears my own work to compel but not just about a Blackness but of a Wholeness, an Integration and Cosmic Connectedness that once accomplished..makes all else aspects of authenticity, fulfilled.

wow. talk about someone who was worthy of worship and honor...smh
too much

Deleted pieces from [Michelle Obama: Black Woman at the Frontlines of the Attack on Black Womanhood]

" i agree with you on the point that i should not have intruded on your woman based model campaign, hence i subtract my comment."

"Yes, it was your Black Woman statement and i concur that all persons should listen more closely to these experiences and perspectives given the hierarchy of demonization. I should also add that it is not just what people say that is important but also what is the position of privilege that the sayer occupies in the race/gender/etc matrix. It is in consideration of all of that, that i subtracted my previous comment."