Never deny Me.
Never deny My children.
You might not know why, but take care of My people.



Do you know that I think about you?
And my guilt makes me guilty?
I can hear the pittance
rattling in your cup
like your bones
in a body ravaged by the world
and your mind.

There is a double-edged sword
that hovers always round my pulse points
drawing not blood but hot white tears
of frustration and confusion.
I cry searing intentions and doubts
then get wounded by the blade of the sword
inscribed with
"But what did you do?"
next second
a fresh cut is opened by the side that says
"But what can I do?"

In a blanket
seeming to have grown out of concrete
you appear but invisible.
people hand you their shame
disguised as clinking metal coins
and I wonder if you can even see them anymore.
Do you judge them,
as they judge you?

I'll sit across the street from you
forever in my mind.
I'll watch as you tremble
with a sickness,
stare as you writhe
in your own private hell.

My arms ache to hold you,
to hand you to God.
My mind glues my Indignant Hero Skin
to the other side of the street,
where I have been blessed enough
to arrive...

SERVER NOT FOUND. Hmmm. Well, that's Ironic, idn't?

When I stand in my bathroom, I can hear opera. A strong, cultivated voice wafts up from somewhere in the building, and I smile. Even when I am sloth-esque and dim eyed in the morning, the sound of her voice makes me breath. She is practicing her trade, here to fulfill a dream like so many others. I may have seen the opera singer in passing, but other wise she is completely anonymous to me. Even so, I feel connected to her. Which is something that is unusual to my mind. Roots are a coveted thing in my imagination, and very rarely have I felt the rich earth permanently surrounding mine. Here, the energy is something that you can just plug in to. There is not a precise something that you need to fit. You take the energy and make it your own, whatever shape, form, consistancy you want it to be. Sometimes I feel like I'm the round peg getting shoved into the square hole, but it's fleeting, and that's a good thing.

I went to a Rosh Hashanah service with Robbie yesterday. Of course my appetite for all things religious was whetted immediately. I was very touched to share this New Year celebration with Robin and Dotan, to experience the community bond and feel the current of a different type of faith. Different principles, different beliefs, but the message is the same to me. It's all about love and acceptance. Making peace with yourself and the world, and nurturing your relationship with God. Doing good things and contributing positiveness into this convoluted world.

Here are two prayer that really struck a chord in my soul:

Prelude to the Amidah

Don't let me fall
Like a stone that drops on the hard ground.
And don't let my hands become dry
As the twigs of a tree
when the wind beat down the last leaves.
And when the storm rips dust from the earth
Angry and howling,
Don't let me become the last fly
Trembling terrified on a windowpane.
Don't let me fall.
I have so much prayer,
But as a blade of your grass in a distant, wild field
Loses a seed in the lap of the earth
And dies away,
Sow in me your living breath,
As you sow a seed in the earth.

**************************

And I have felt
A presence that disturbes me with a joy
of elevated thoughts; a sense sublime
of something far more deeply interfused
whose dwelling is the light of setting suns,
and the round ocean and the living air,
and the blue sky, and in the mind of man:
a motion and a spirit, that impels
all thinking things, all objects of all thought
and rolls through thinking things.

*****************************

Introduction to the Amidah

I yearn for God,
I seek God's face,
I ask of God the power of expression,
so that I might sing, amid my people, of God's power.
I express my joy in God's creative acts.
I know that thoughts are human but that poetry belongs to God.
I ask of you, my sovereign, open my lips. Then shall I tell your glory.
May my words of prayer, my heart's meditation be seen favorably, Precious One,
My rock,
my champion.

Amen.

I CAN'T HELP THE WAY MY FACE IS. SO BACK OFF.

Listen UP:

I am 4 years away from 30, and I have been playing with you fools since I was 22. I have not the tolerance for your tired mantras, so find a girl who looks like she's listening, and throw your BS game her way. If I look aloof, it's because I'm not interested in you. I don't have the energy to be cute to your face and then roll my eyes when you walk away. I prefer for you to know from the beginning, that way we're not wasting each other's time. Bitchy? Probably. The reason that I'll be single for a long time? Maybe. Please forgive me for not settling for typical. If you think that I'm down for what you're after, I'm not. And if you really want to know me, you have to try as hard as I do. And I try hard. Sheesh.

New pet peeve:

Guys that I've just met telling me to loosen up. "Smile girl! Have some fun!" I saw a girl nestle a drink in her cleavage last night, and then a brawn but no brains picked her up and tilted her just the right way so that he could drain the drink from its precarious position. What, because that's not my idea of fun, I'm not having any? If I don't have a 3000 watt perma-grin shellacked onto my face, I'm not a happy person? Bite me, how's that for happy? I couldn't behave that way if I wanted to (lack of cleavage). Quit harassing me because you don't know what to do with the girl who doesn't simper and stand on her head to get your attention. And what about this for a novel approach: "Hi my name is (insert your name here). What's your name? Nice to meet you!" So easy. So refreshing and attention getting. Absolutely and utterly impossible, apparently.

But I digress from my happy outlook on life. Uhhh...yeah, ok. We'll go with happy outlook for now.

Kick back in my step, smile on my face, and confidence back in my voice. Yeah...yeah, I can do that.

That was one of the best conversations I've had in a long time.
Thank you, Daddy.

I miss you all. A lot. And it sneaks up on me, making tears leak out of my eyes, no matter how much blinking and fanning I do. I'm not above crying in a bathroom stall, and I'm trying not to strain beneath the weight of my own criticism. I am happy for the new smiles, the new languages, the new grace...it's the old smiles and familiar tones and worn in, comfortable grace that are reminding me of who I am right now, that are whispering to me even if I think the air is silent. I find power in knowing you are there, and you know me for who I am. And love me so.

Even if I forget to give you a spoon.

A fight broke out. Origin, unknown. Yelling, bowing up, removal of clothing to prepare the fists for full swing. Women, screaming on the side, using logic and shrillness to diffuse the climax of this scene. A child darts out, and yanked aside by the arm like a precious stuffed monkey, she might have wondered during her arc through the air between the sidewalk and safe haven of store door, "why are they fighting?" Circling ensues, like prize fighters in the ring, like a bull and a matador intent on the others first move. An arm is extended, the hand rigid. Fed by the world's movie bred illusions, the air waits to be filled with gunshots. But no, it's an olive branch, not a piece of deathly steel. The opponent's body language stutters, and then comprehension clears the tension from the air as if it was erased. They grasp hands, a man's handshake. Much gesturing and explaining leads way to a man hug, the stout grip of opposite paws, the chest touch, and the vigorous back pounding. Resolution sings a bittersweet song. It is much better to be relieved and whole than to be proven right and dead.

All of this was executed in English, in my neighborhood, at the end of a busy day. It could have happened on mars in a Martian dialect, for all I understood. I don't even have to leave my house - there's theatre in the streets.

I walk A LOT. Which I love. And my feet hate. My toes and heels look like they're about to fall off. I think they might, just to prove a point. And walking in fit-lops in New York City gives new meaning to the term "Jiffy feet." Alicia ain't got nothin' on me no more.

So, I'm trying to take mytendenciesendancies and use them as a ladder to climb to a different level in my life. Because, as I've said countless time before, the things I fret about, the things that I really let fray my nerves, they are stupid things, compared to what others have to worry about. I have to concentrate on being as large in reality as I am in my mind, in my fiction. It is a struggle for me to use my voice, but I have to find ways to give it strength. My life is GRAND, isn't it?

I've mentioned it here before, but I just want to put the thought in your hearts again. My Aunt Jan Kibler (not my Dad's sister, but my Mom's best friend) is not doing well. She is in the hospital right now, and the easiest to say is that it's complications from surgery. Please pray for her. For her recovery, her strength. And pray for her husband, and My Boys. She really needs all of the positive energy she can get. She has much to live for.

PURSUE HAPPINESS.

Who knew that happiness could take so many forms?

I don’t suppose
That you could hold my heart
For but a minute
I’ll take it back
When it is done
In the meantime
It’s better that you have it.

Meaning no offense
Just trying to be heartfelt
Itself
This beating thing
Has turned me in again
To a fluttering bull
Pirouetting through
The Devotion china shop.

This thing
Out of touch with my brain
Tells me that the china shop
Is safe
Is sane
But no, oh not to be fooled
I belong in a heartland
Where I can stampede.

Not tiptoe.

So you can have it
For now
Give it back
When it’ll let go
And has learned the lesson
That most seem already to know
Risk is necessary
Chance is the nourishing blood,
Understood, but love is dual.

Pride and disinterest are not.



Step aside please. I have a beautiful life to attend to and create everyday, so I don’t have time for you, damn meddling thoughts. I am right with the world. Living my dream. Stepping out of my comfort zone and pushing myself beyond my limit every chance I receive. So be gone, your shenanigans are not needed here.

Once again, I am turning to ambiguous, generic yet meaningful encrypted thoughts to convey how I feel, instead of trying to push an envelope that I have mailed and gotten back, return to sender, countless times. I have to be constantly reminded that just b/c I feel a certain way, have standards of treatment and a specific way of doing things, doesn’t mean that all of the people I have interacted with share my views.

For example…you, you big f-ing shadow.

I have the worst possible track record when it comes to caring about men who don’t reciprocate. Or maybe they did care for a fraction of an instant, and I chose to interpret too much or just not let go when the time came to do so. Or maybe they did but I was just much more than they could handle. Or maybe they did but I pushed too hard. Or maybe they did but they were UNABLE TO DEAL WITH THEIR OWN SHIT and therefore had not the capacity to try and deal with mine too (do you see why just THINKING is exhausting for me?).

You will notice, of the above “or maybes” only one shares the burden with one of the past…things. Some people can accept the fact that things don’t work out, for whatever reason, and then they, what? Say it with me, class, “MOVE ON.” I have a horrible habit of blaming myself and thinking that I could have changed things, when really things weren’t even worth the effort to change, because I was the only one trying.

Well, I’ve moved on. I am willing, ready and able to step away from fear and stop holding doubt’s hand. I am trying to make better choices, and take more risks, if you can do both at the same time. My life is constantly reshaping itself, and my brain and heart and soul are constantly shifting their focus, so that eventually I will be able to obtain my goals. I know how I deserve to be treated, because I have been treated so well all of my life.

What I’m having a hard time understanding is why I cried. Why I worried. Why my first instinct (and my instincts are usually true to form) was to call, and even if I wasn’t acknowledged, to let it be known that I was praying and thinking about someone who finds it easier than breathing to pretend that I don’t exist. It may be taking the higher road, and learning to swallow the swords of pride and stubbornness.

After I have dealt with the rollercoaster o’ crap that usually accompanies anything having to do with those who were once in my life but now aren’t for whatever reason, I am moved to this shocking sentiment. Whatever. All of the thinking in the world will not bring me the answers. But living my life without looking back at regret will bring me a better future. For all of the ways that I struggle, I know one thing to be true…

I am me, and I am damn good at it. And that’s all I can ask of myself, isn’t it?

That being said.

I heard about your accident, and I am terribly sorry you are hurt. My family is praying for you, and I wish you the best and quickest of recoveries. I would say that if you need me, I am here to talk to, but that would be futile, because you should already know that. If you don’t, it’s not because I haven’t tried. Too much.

I love you, all of you, and I miss you so very much. Thank you for listening, for cheering for me, for reminding me that I can do this even when I am sobbing and hollow with homesickness. The plan is to surpass even my expectations, which are very high. But whatever I do, I love it here, and there is no doubt in my mind that I am doing the right thing.

The things that I am worried about are so trivial.

There are things in this world that terrify me, infuriate me, insult my sensibilities right down to the very being of who I am. There are countless situations that I cannot control, and standing on the side-lines, feel that there has to be better solutions to a multitude of sins. But what am I doing? Worrying about whether or not I text-messaged a stale old ghost? Wondering where I'm gonna get a job, IF I can get a job that I want, if it will afford me the ability to live the life that I've been accustomed to?

Well, a big fat shut the hell up to these petty grievances. I have a place to live. I have food, clean water. My family and friends are safe and even if I get a job at a DRY CLEANERS for the interim, at LEAST I HAVE A CITY TO FIND A JOB IN.

I am SO SORRY. Half of the world that is not bitching about gas prices is wondering what to do, where to start, if they could even do enough. I believe that we could all walk out of the door today and find some way to help. If you don't know, figure it out. I think anything would do right now. If you can't afford money or time, which I understand, then pray. In whatever form you find prayer useful. We can all be useful, and if you find a need, please let me know. I will be searching too.

A few lines that calmed me today:

"...How do I guess at the future? Based on the omens of the present. If you pay attention to the present, you can improve upon it. And, if you improve on the present, what comes later will also be better. Forget about the future, and live each day according to the teachings, confident that God loves his children."

"There is only one way to learn...It's through action. Everything you need to know you have learned through your journey."

"Don't give into your fears. If you do, you won't be able to talk to your heart."

And most importantly, which you all remind me constantly of:

"This is what we call love. When you are loved, you can do anything in creation. When you are loved, there is no need at all to understand what's happening, because everything happens within you, and even men can turn themselves into the wind. As long as the wind helps, of course."

-The Alchemist

My prayers are with you, you people of the ruins. I am sure that your hearts have filled past bursting, and you are just concentrating on getting them to beat again. I am so sorry for what you have been through and what you still have to go through. My prayers are for strength, unity, and healing. Bless.

A member of my extended family, as well as the loved ones that surround her, is suffering right now. Aunt Jan Kibler, I am thinking of you, and sending good energy your way. I love you very much and hope that this road isn't too long or too hard to bear.


I can do this, because I can do anything. I can keep my chin up, and I can rock this place. The way that I want to rock this place. I have so much at my finger-tips right now, it's humbling. But the energy of this city is empowering. I tell you, you can feel it. It's palpable. I don't know what's going to happen or how I'm going to do this...hell, I don't know anything at all. But I think that's half the fun. That's half of the experience in itself.

I have a view of the river
the strain of a song
tiny feet that will pitter
and a resolve that is strong
I'm watching aliens in windows
their naked expressions
my landscape
and great joy in a hand shake
this city is in me
been all along
I will court it and nurture it
and see what will come.
You wrap your arms around me
and I will accept these urban flaws
You use my energy to power your lights
And I'll use your lights to build
my energy into the power I desire.

Thank you for the opportunity.

Check list:

Yankees game (ten rows up, phenominal) check
Harbour cruise to observe the skyline of my New City, check
Getting on the wrong train, check
Giggling hysterically at the fabulous accents, check and double check
rushing off of the subway to find a break-dancing crew performing, then thinking, "My God, this is what I came here for," check
getting my ass grabbed twice in two days in the subway, check
wittnessing some kind of drama at Grand Central Station and thinking "God, what am I doing here?" check, once again.

The list grows everyday. All of my senses and emotions are %100 engaged and it is gloriously draining. This is what I wanted. Being gloriously drained leaves absolutely no energy for misbehaving.

I CAN'T BELIEVE THAT I'M HERE!!!

"So tomorrow is just another day that I get to dance..."

I may falter, stumble, hesitate, and fall, but I will always get back up to dance. You can be sure of that.

Everything I see, everything I hear, all of the signs...

they're all about New York.

And that's good.

I could sell a book filled with all of the pep-talks I've been giving myself everytime I see a photo or a shot of the city on TV. I have a feeling I am going to be bruised from pinching myself for several weeks to come. And honestly it hasn't all really hit me yet. That may be a long time coming, definitely when I least expect it.

So now, I have to condense all of my into an essence. And I have to find the words to say thank you, the RIGHT way. Because without you people...I can't quite even imagine.

"Awww, yes sir! I am a bitch. A crazy bitch! Ask him," she says, pointing to yet another specter of boyfriends past, "I'm sure he'd love to tell you all about it." Leaving him with a wink and a blown kiss, she walked away, grinning through the turmoil that festered inside.

And the truth is, I just can't help myself. You, collectively, might think that the inability to let go is something that is unique to the situation you were a part of. Nope, this is a personality problem that will always handicap me. I've had thoughts of changing it, and maybe someday I will develop the resolution and willpower to do so. But until then, I'll just have to work around it, won't I? Who knows; maybe I'm addicted to the drama, and I call it upon myself...wait, that's the absolute truth, what do I mean, who knows?

I am a walking contradiction in terms. I don't need a man to be happy and have a fabulous life doing what I am doing, even if I drive everyone, especially me, crazy in the process. I don't need that space in my life filled right now, but I want it to be eventually. I want the ideal, and I am so busy trying to locate it that I'm blind to all other things.

"Kelly, the dog did it."
"Do you believe in fate?"
"Call me when you are the person that you want to be."
"Please welcome, for the first time, Mr. and Mrs. Stephen Chastain!"
"What do you want me to tell you, Kelly? What do you want me to say?"

I "fall in love" with everything that stands still long enough to deal with me. I find the ones who are intense, who are hurt and confused, and I am drawn to them because I am fascinated by larger, male versions of me. I mistake physical things for emotional things and even when I know better I try to self-medicate with hugs and caresses that leave me scrubbed completely clean of anything real. I think that I miss a person when really I miss wrapping him around me as insulation against all of the issues that I am trying to ignore. I push too hard for too long 'til eventually even I'm asking me, "what the HELL is wrong with you, psycho?"

And I am filled with the pervasive desire to apologize, everytime I horrify myself. I want everyone to know that I am not really like this, that I am strong and not needy and I don't really need anyone. I constantly want to make right what I am constantly doing wrong, which is giving you the impression that this is about you. No need to pretend that either of us was perfect. It just wasn't right, and even though I know that, true connections for me are so few and far between I am fierce about letting them go. What I forget when my brain goes numb is that there is nothing that I can do when the feeling is not mutual.

All I ever wanted, before I periodically make things magnitudes worse than they really are, was closure. From all of you. I struggle with a lot that none of you know about, and it has become the pattern for men in my life to perpetuate my worst nightmare. I also hold with the cycling of wanting the ones who are most likely to do this.

The one who I know isn't likely at all to do this might well be out of my reach.

God's will rules my life, so I'll just have to say he must have bigger and badder lined up for me.

If you read this, think whatever you want. I am done with the parallel universe thing. I am tired of floating over my body watching myself do things I would never do when sober or thoughtful. I will always be praying, and you will always be a thread in the fabric that I am creating. Even if you couldn't find it in you to do this, and I couldn't find it in me to not take it back...

I am through.

I am really struggling here.

I am dealing with some anger. Some fear. Insecurity. Of course some anxiety but I can't stop breathing, can I?

I am trying to figure out what makes me shut down. So I can stop it. I don't like working against myself because it consumes so much energy. I draw into myself and become despondent, disappointed when I am lonely. The very independence that has become my anthem and my sole reason for being single and bitchy tends to isolate me, and I am frustrated by it.

My body is numb, and my being is listless. I have to stop this.

I refuse to keep on defeating myself.

Success, love, faith...No, wait a minute.

Love, faith success-better, but...

Faith, love, success. There we go.

A wrangling of my priorities into the right order. Harder than it looks.

This will make me stronger. I know it will. I'll be damned if I'm backing out now, I've already planned the party.

Strong is good. Hard-hearted is terribly inadequate for me. It's tough skinned, the old ticker is. But it's not solid brick. Yet. Work with me here, ok?

I don't need you.

I've got friends who will stand up for me in the face of an asshole consumer...
and a computer that plays DVDs. Sounds simple, but after what you had to offer me, what more can a girl want?

And yes, I did say thank you. Thank you for making me realize that there are things I need to change, but there are also things that are so good, the purity of such is enough to make me cry, again.

As long as I'm crying, I know that I'm still real. And there is not much that's more important to me than being real.

God, I am such a train wreck. It's fascinating, really.

And I don't understand it. Happy as can be, excited over a big step in my life, all my friends surrounding me, plenty of dates to take or leave...and what do I do?

"I like the dark and mysterious look."

I go out, I have fun goofing around and watching my dancing partner dance and dancing myself. I have good conversation with Amber, I fall into bed exhausted...AND WHAT DO I DO?

Plenty of people that love me and want to know me and care about my well-being. All these people who DON'T ignore me, DON'T make me feel bad, and ARE productive parts of my life. AND...what in the HELL do I do?

I...me myself and I, make me feel bad. I blame it on no one else but me.

"What do you want me to say, Kelly?"

I feel so bad right now, I don't ever want to hear you say anything again.

I'm such a fool.

I am strangely calm.

Even though I have a little over 2 weeks to sort, organize, have a garage sale, buy a plane ticket, pack...etc., etc., etc.

Calm before the deluge, I would say. I'm in the eye of the hurricane right now.

Very soon I am expecting emotional raindrops the size of basketballs. Winds at gale force pulling me in every direction. a vacuum inside where a lot things used to be...

Will they really be gone, or just jostled into another position out of necessity?

I know you are there. I know things are rough. And I wish you would talk to me, 'cause I'm scared out of my mind. You know it's not often that I say the word "need" to another human being. And at the same time, I understand the silence. So, I'm just waiting patiently.

Um, so now they have Peach Absolut...or Absolut Peach, or whatever other moniker they've attached to this new peach flavored vodka...yum-ee! As if I needed an excuse to drink more vodka, hmmmm.

Well, typically I bitch about my job and all of the idiot people that I encounter, so let's change it up a little. I had the nicest group of tables, collectively, than I've had in a LONG time. Sometimes I have A nice table or A nice round of tables, and this time, every table from beginning to end was cool. So there is hope for human kind as we know it. Because I had one evening of nice tables. I think my perception is a little off.

While I'm on a pleasant faux-rant, which is rare for me, I have to say anger at another's situation has made me reflect on my past in a more positive light. I've run the gamut with ex-boyfriends, from a guy who took up cheating on me like it was a sport to one who really and truly held my heart. Throw in a non-relationship and a man that still makes me want to scream, with a sprinkling of "you've got to be kidding me's" and you've got my basic recipe for love. But while the treatment might have been lacking, they all were really good guys. Well...yeah, some were/are/will always be really good mixed up guys. I am angry for my friend (angry meaning it's gonna be hard to keep from knocking this guys teeth into his head) but it's made me realize, as much drama as I have been through they never would have done me like this. And that makes me weirdly happy.

I'm prayin' for ya, little thing.

I feel brittle, like the outermost layer of an onion skin...
My skin is pallid and even my lips have lost color, and my body aches...
Is this stress rearing it's ugly head?

Or am I freakin' sick? All I want to do is sleep, I have a slightly sore throat...oh GOD, what if I have MONO?

Well, at least my DO is cute...hard to go in there lookin' like death warmed over though, isn't it? It would figure - getting ever closer to making a major move and I would get the kissing disease and I'm not even damn fortunate enough to be kissin' anyone, um, lately...

Probably I'm just a drama queen, which is what 90% of what goes on in my world can be chalked up to...

If any of you vague handful of people who read this thing are wondering where the explosion of verbal dia...*gross*...one more again...where the explosion of verbal diatribes (ha, tricked ya) has suddenly come from, the answer is way simpler than it usually is. No drama (past the norm) and nothing major going on (past the moving), but my superb parents got me a laptop (one word or two?) as an early b-day gift and I have just discovered that there is nothing cooler than lying in bed in the dark and typing away until my little heart is content.

Obviously by the ridiculous amount that I am posting, it is never content.

Or, probably more true to form is that there is a ton of stuff that I need to do and whatever else would I do but avoid doing it?

Ya know what's funny? I have known those Kibler boys all of my life. I've watched two get married and one become a Daddy to a precious little thing with another on the way, and I realized something that I have already verbalized several times: those boys have ruined me for settling. There is no way in this world I would accept anything less than what I see them giving the world. They are three more additions to my list of proof that there are still real men walking around, that they are honorable, fun, caring and dependable. (Not to say that any of those boys don't have their quirks, 'cause they all do. But aren't we females a li'l, um, quirky ourselves?) So that brings the list to about...well, whose counting? You know who you are.