Why is she so....

Angry: because of the hand she was dealt. Her entire life she's been playing catch-up, still only to be in the outfield.

Non-committal: because not even her own blood could commit to loving her for a lifetime, so why would she commit to anything?

Sad: because she is alone, not the kind that can be remedied by online dating, but the kind that lasts forever. The kind that you're either born with or without.

Driven: because when you're alone, procrastination can be deadly, so being driven is your only option

Loyal: because her "friends" are her family and when she actually grants you this title, it's meant to be for life..

This thing called life is sometimes to heavy to carry all by myself. My neighbor yesterday asked me why I was carrying my fridge up the stairs without help, I could only reply "because I'm alone, I have no help". Just because I'm strong doesn't mean I'm not fragile also. I'm tired of being called pretty, beautiful, sexy, all these empty terms that may as well be insults if there are no actions that support them. The Rabbi asked me what I feel about family, I told him I know nothing of it. Attempts at re-creating that feeling I think you get from family (what I gathered from TV) have failed miserably.

I'm tired, exhausted even, wish I could just float in a sea of happiness not littered with lies, pretention, deceit. Humble is as humble does, but at some point humble gets run over. If I've ever told you I hate you, its because at that very moment I actually did.

My rambling is not from a place of sickness but rather a place of nothingness. All people fail me, and I should only be so lucky to one day meet someone who doesn't actually make it a point to.

Not Loved By "Fill in the Blank"

What makes a person un-lovable? I should probably ask myself that question, for it seems I will live my existence having never known what its like to be loved.

I watch the news and read newspapers about murderers, rapists, burglars, people who are supposed to bear the mark of shame in our society. I read about how their 'loved ones' protect their presumed innocence and rally around them so they can feel a sense of support and care.

I look at mothers, parents, and how their love is unconditional, unwavering, strong, pure, even for children who disappoint, disrespect, and prove to be apathetic towards everyone.

I look at people who own pets and how they laud them with affection and treats forging family like bonds with these non-human beings.

And then I look at me......Natasha never wanted me, I was one of those mistakes that happened because her 17 year old self was too selfish use a condom, to swallow a pill, to keep her hormones at bay. From the moment of inception I'm certain I could taste her vitriol as it slithered its way down through the placenta to my heart, trying to warn me about the hatred and loneliness I would face outside the womb.

Once birthed at the ripe age of 18, Natasha was relieved to no longer be physically connected to me the mistake, and it showed. In every neglected opportunity to hug, kiss, or even pat my head in approval I shrank smaller in size, trying to become as invisible as I felt. My cloak of invisibility was apparently so strong, that it also prevented grandparents, aunts, uncles, etc from expressing one "I Love You". Of course, no orphaned child was told of love at the shelters, foster homes, and group homes I resided in, this would have been laughable.

I grew thinking that it was okay, one day (according to movies and tv) a guy would love me, even though we weren't related..imagine that! I was pretty stoked on the idea of having someone actually like me, but to love me was something I could only hope and wait for. Silly girl I was, and still am.

I must have forgotten the birthmark of un-lovable I have burned into me. I have had boyfriend after boyfriend and never one who has fallen under the spell of love...barely capable of saying like. But wait, isn't this supposed to be my time, the time when I can surround myself only with people that love and care for me?

I'm a girl..a woman...all alone..in my late-twenties..still without love. Still don't know what its like to be 'had' to have someone feel incomplete without me. I still don't know what its like to feel protected, wanted, belonging, like I matter.

I have loved, even those like Natasha who I knew didn't return the feeling. The funny thing about love is that its incomplete without the return of it from someone, without the reciprocal.

I imagine I will die feeling un-loved. Lying cold in my casket, presumed to be void of anything, I will still have the stone that lies where my heart was; rough jagged edges, dark like onyx, dry like Saharan sand, and sadly unloved.

Oh btw..I love you

I Wish I Was Eternally

Basically, I wished that you love me.

I wish that you needed me.

I wish that you knew when I said 2 sugars, actually I meant 3.

I wish that without me your heart would break.

I wish that without me you'd be spending the rest of your nights awake.

I wish that without me you couldn't eat.

I wish I was the last thing on your mind before you went to sleep.



Some other soul wrote this, whom I've never met, yet we share this emptiness.

Appreciation is earned, even by yourself

Maybe I appreciate things more, because most things are things I've never had before.

Currently a contractor in part because I crave my freedom (another something missing from my childhood), I have no medical insurance. I know, I know, quelle horreur, such a shame that as an American who pays about 30% of my income in taxes each year I'm not covered under some sort of plan, at the very least for emergencies. I mean I have paid so much to the Social Security Administration that I will never get to see in my lifetime, and as a citizen who is proven to be a hard-working contributor to NY state and America, you'd think I would see some restitution. Ha!

However, this post is actually a happy one. Its to highlight that even as a paid contractor with no insurance, that when I contract a serious illness and need emergency services, I actually have the cash in my bank account, and even a little credit card just in case my cash flow is funny. This isn't about gloating, its about the sincere pride and gratitude I feel for having the ability to pay a $700 medical Bill at the time of my visit without a sweat.

I remember eating powdered milk as a child, scraping loose change up in my dorm as a Freshman, only able to find enough for a small McDonald's fry and hamburger, living in a hotel for 5 days at 20 years old a few weeks after my undergrad graduation. I visited my first dentist at 17, cocoa butter and aspirin fixed every ailment growing up, roach infested houses I slept with tissue in my ears and nose while living in.

I appreciate the hell out of all that I have now. I appreciate the brain G-d gave me and the spirit to never stop fighting.

Tonight and forever I am grateful

Why I Am So 'Me Centric' Me, Me, Me, Me!

I spent every single day of my life as a child making promises to myself to fill all the holes the 'adults' had created for me.

I promised not to be poor, not to be unintelligent, not to be without a career and money to care for myself. I promised to be a honest person who would own up to their faults, I even promised that if one day I had a child I would break the chain, and actually love it.

However, even with all of those promises there are somethings I have no control over.

I can't give myself a mother that loves me. I can't give myself a family that loves me or supports me.

I can't even give myself a man that will respect my strengths, accept and work with me on my weaknesses, and simply love me as wholly as I would love him.

But, I can work really hard at earning things and ensuring that I keep those 'little girl lost' promises to myself.

So if you find yourself wondering why I resigned another position, moved across country again, told a flaky friend to exclude me from their life, or pushed another fake boyfriend away, its because I'm doing me, me, me!

When We Two Parted- by Lord Byron

When we two parted
In silence and tears,
Half broken-hearted
To sever for years,
Pale grew thy cheek and cold,
Colder thy kiss;
Truly that hour foretold
Sorrow to this.

The dew of the morning
Sunk chill on my brow--
It felt like the warning
Of what I feel now.
Thy vows are all broken,
And light is thy fame;
I hear thy name spoken,
And share in its shame.

They name thee before me,
A knell to mine ear;
A shrudder comes o'er me--
Why wert thou so dear?
They know not I knew thee,
Who knew thee so well--
Long, long I shall rue thee,
Too deeply to tell.

In secret we met--
In silence I grieve,
That thy heart could forget,
Thy spirit deceive
If I should meet thee
After long years,
How should I greet thee?--
With silence and tears.

Christian...I Am Not

"But whoso shall offend one of these little ones which believe in me, it were better for him that a millstone were hanged about his neck, and that he were drowned in the depth of the sea." -Matthew 18:6

The very doctrine by which 'Christian' members of society subscribe to plainly details ideology about the mistreatment of children who believe in G-d.

Born a child of G-d into a very scrupulously religious 'family', first words read by my eyes were scriptures from the Bible.

First baptismal protected me from danger, evil, sin, and provided a means of grace. In actuality the white baptismal robes provided me with garbs to cover the many scars covering my infant body.

Sunday - Kids Sunday School 9am Sharp followed by General Services lasting until 5pm or later

Monday- Convocation Night

Tuesday- Evangelist Night

Wednesday- Children's Choir Rehearsal

Thursday- Adult Choir Rehearsal

Friday- Youth Night

Saturday- Youth Outing, Bakesale, etc.

My life for 12 years; awaken with prayers for those I loved in spite of their injustices towards me, off to bed with prayers for those I loved, in spite of the throbbing from their inflicted concussions.

"Dear G-d thank you for letting me love another day, and blessing and protecting over me and everyone I love. I ask that you please Lord forgive me for my sins and make me whole again. I ask G-d that you please bless and protect Frances, ToTo, and my friends so that nothing bad happens to them. G-d I ask that you please let my family love me and stop being mean to me, I don't know what to do. Thank you Lord G-d, Amen"

Innocent child studying the ways of 'Christianity' 7 days a week, beaten and belittled 7 days a week. Get a beating, read a scripture, get kicked, read a scripture, get labeled ugly, read a scripture. I never found that scripture that tells you how to respond to your caretaker calling you a "7 year old dyke" and yelling that you would "not live to see 17"..but I'm sure its there somewhere.

Unshaken faith and servitude for 12 years, and 8 additional years of guilty faith and hoping that this thing would work. Loyalty first, in spite of being brought on stage to "get the demons prayed out of me" at age 9. Slap, punch, kick, thump, plunger stick, I still say 'Dear G-d thank you'. Cold, hungry, alone, scared, guns, I still say "Dear G-d thank you'.

Spring 2002 my best friend very religious, church every Sunday. My faith waivers, but from guilt I attend Easter service. Homeless, penniless, midterms, "may I please crash with you for a night" ignore, ignore, ignore, faith be damned. Denounce, deny, deliver myself free.

Church was my family, my family that turned a blind eye.. they promised, yet did not deliver.

Why do the righteous suffer?

Fire

So much anger in me it feels like life is being choked from my body. Normal feelings like hunger, cold, hot, etc.. have been replaced with rage, nausea, disbelief, sadness. I can't comprehend how the human mind works, how one is able to convince themselves that they are a good person deserving of good people in their life.

Even with all of the loss and emptiness I've experienced in my brief 20 something years on earth, I have never proclaimed to care about someone, pull them in closer (even when they are fighting against it), get them warmed up to me, then simply disappear from their lives without so much as a "go fuck yourself". I have enough manners to tell you that you are no longer welcome in my life.

I feel that with each blink of my eyes I'm staving off the red rage that I am feeling deep behind them. With each short breath I take, I'm gasping in what I thought was the truth. The past 7 months snaking their way back up my throat, my mouth filled with bile and bitter defeat.

This loud music can't get loud enough, the aching in my ears fails in comparison to what lies in my onyx, marbled heart.

Dramatic? Yes, of course..look up the definition: sudden, affecting, emotional, powerful, vivid...

You hate someone whom you really wish to love, but whom you cannot love. Perhaps he himself prevents you. That is a disguised form of love- Sri Chinmoy

With that said I Love You

A Different Kind of Pretty Woman

Sometimes I simply don't feel pretty enough. Enough for what you ask, I wish I could answer.

I don't think I've ever come across a peer who holds themselves in a higher regard than I do. My entire life I was seasoned to take a licking and keep on ticking, and I put that determination into every segment of my being. Falling off a curb and while still on the ground with my knee bleeding, my grandmother would just look back over her shoulder and tell me to hurry up and pull myself together because crying wasn't going to make it go away.

Skinny Minnie, Olive Oyl, Pumpkin Head, China Doll, all nicknames from relatives to make fun of a fragment of my young physique. However, when I left the home it was quite the opposite. Strangers on the street would come over and ask my grandmother about me, and lavish endless compliments on little "China Doll". All those years of teasing at home built a protective shell around my esteem, and I just decided that I would 'be' and 'act' beautiful, and therefore it would be true.

Fast forward to adult Pumpkin Head, and I have that same shell, same truth inside of me. There is absolutely nothing anyone can tell me to diminish the esteem I hold for my physical or mental presence. I often think this is a double-edged sword I have to contend with. On one hand its a yay- girl power, Susan B. Anthony type thing, and on the other hand is the idea of me resting on my "laurels".

I'm not the woman who can't leave the house without a made-up face, or who can't go out without at least 1 item of makeup on, but sometimes I wish I were. I wish I had that drive or motivation to want to look my absolute best each and every day. Instead, I simply wakeup and hope for the best with what I was given. Perhaps this is why I am single, but then why am I able to procure so many dates?

At times I've even made goals for myself like "I will wear mascara everyday" or "I will at least wear tinted moisturizer daily" but the best I've done so far is wear SPF everyday- my derm loves me!

I don't know where the line between being comfortable with natural beauty and being lazy blurs, but I think I've reached it. I need to work on becoming a different kind of pretty woman.