Mothers' Day

Or should it be mother FUCKERS day.


I've said it all before.


Talking about it does not make me feel any better, nor move me in any direction toward solving the problem.


So what is it that DOES make me feel better?


Nothing. I have lost interest in every single effin thing.


Inner child keeps throwing tantrum after tantrum, screaming, " play with me!" all while the other boys just ignore me.


I feel like Cindy Sheehan gone to sit at the Bush ranch to solicit answers, or just to express my grief.


The grief of yet another day, another night of lovelorn misery. Where oh where can my twin flame be hiding?


At this point, he may want to be on guard when he meets me, in case I slap the shit out of him. LOL!



Speaking of mothers, I find myself once again in the position of having my mother dependent upon me. This time is not the result of bad health, thankfully, but rather, bad decisions. I remember my friend Retha from Arkansas, who greatly identified with me because she was the family "blacksheep" also. She observed that it was those of us who were ostracized who were more responsible, more dependable, and always seemed to have money available to us. However, because of our inability to set boundaries, and our compassionate nature, we are usually giving it away to the very family members who ostracize us - or in this case with my family, because of them.


At least I am not having to work two jobs this time around. There is *no* way.


This has the very distinct effect of isolation. Just what I need.


It has become evident, that when I do have a buck or two to spend, and can try to re-join society again, (this process was never really completed the first time I set out to rejoin society in 1999, after my mom had returned to work and when I gave up my second job and moved halfway across the country), my tactic has to change. I am finding that there are no other people playing on my playing field in the social setttings where I have been since 1999. Oh, who am I kidding - I wonder if there ever were any. I have not met any available men, from Dallas, to Houston, to Washington DC, to San Francisco, to Los Angeles, to Long Beach, to all over Southern California. In fact, the more concentrated the gay population, the more out of touch with reality the men are. They have completely forgotton what we have struggled through. They have forgotten their humanity, using each other in the most horrifying ways.


I think I need to go on a cruise, or some other kind of vacation, where I can meet people from outside my immediate culture. I would LOVE to go on a cruise with Esther Hicks. There are other achaeological trips to ancient sites now that the scientists are so interested in ancient technology. I would love to go to a David Wilcock seminar, or a Bashar weekend lecture, or the Tesla Tech conference, or the international pot competition in Amsterdam - Cannabis Cup - or any number of other things that would get me in the company of other people on my wavelength.


I am very concerned with the complete lack of available men (who are relationship oriented, brown, smooth and sexy, and who are monogamy-minded). But I cannot continue to feel worthless because I am alone, or to evaluate each day by whether or not I moved any closer to meeting HIM. I might as well go dig my grave already. I am dropping completely out of being GAY. I have no interest in the whole no-strings-attached, free love thing. Identifying others on my wavelength has proven to be impossible. I just have to figure out how to start chasing dreams of my own and allowing that frequency to attract what I am looking for. The thing that most takes me out of my mental prison is travel. Exploration. Learning. I have some work to do before I am financially and physically capable of such a thing. But it must be done.


Why are they all hung up on hair? I LOVE my skin with no hair. OMG. I do not understand men in the least.


Please send a buyer for my mom's house.
Please.


I have to get out of this box.