An Unwritten Life

                                              AN UNWRITTEN LIFE


2017 11.25 - In THE LAST LION: WINSTON SPENCER CHURCHILL VOLUME 1: VISONS OF GLORY 1874-1932 his peers at that time were publishing:


Virginia Wolf: TO THE LIGHTHOUSE
D.H. Lawrence: LADY CHATTERLY’S LOVER
Travelone(sp?): HISTORY OF ENGLAND
Evelyn War(sp?): DECLINE AND FALL
A.A. Milne: WINNEY THE POOH
 - MOTHER INDIA    


How strange that there is a book … one that Winston quite liked (seemingly) titled “Mother India” it is probably not strange to you but it is to me because I have always thought of India as my mother … the Mother land … America the Masculine Father and India the Sacred Mother, even wrote a short story titled:


                         My Father (America) is killing my Mother (India)


It was a very real seeing at the time.


                                                                  ***


2017 11.26 - It’s rained nearly all night and well into the late morning/afternoon … the wind even howling at times. Mikel … myMikel … I don’t even know if you like the rain or the sound of the wind. I have tried not to make this a day about all the ways I failed you … it’s been quite a challenge in that regard. At around 3-4am the wind really started howling but could not get this body to go outside … which is strange because it is usually around that time that I go out for a walk … it was shortly after that I realized this is the time you were born … 31 years ago … on the east coast … which would have been 6-7am. 


You were such a beautiful baby … almost all mothers say that but you really were. You changed everything about the world for me with that young life filled body. I couldn’t have loved you more and this is true even now … even after all of the failure it is always Love that makes me see it. It is how deeply and completely I Love/loved you that I see how deeply and completely I failed you. Again I digress.


The other night an ad came through for a vintage record player … it was even in turquoise of all colors :o) and the fingers clicked the button and bought it … it seemed so strange because I have had no inclination for a record player … in fact I have not a single record to even play on it. It came in the mail today … your Birthday … how funny  and strange that they deliver on a Sunday. I do wonder if it is yours … if you had these hands buy it so you could listen to music you want to hear through these ears now. I don’t know. I went to the record store yesterday and all the vinyl albums are way out of this pocketbooks price range and so many trees must die just to wrap them … but maybe you have something else in store … it kept coming up that “used” would be the way to go … so maybe there is some kind of used album trading thing out there.


No matter how often I go over it in the head I can’t see that I would have found a way to “see” you while you were alive … you were so layered with the lies of this mind. There was layer after layer of thought that you were just like me and if you are like me then it is hopeless. I had hope for Tyler … because he escaped me … he wasn’t subject to the mad ups and downs of my person … he was … but not on a daily basis thanks to military school. But you didn’t escape and in fact you were with me at some of the worst and at a time that you really could have used stability. I never gave you any except my Heart … the Heart … I know without a doubt or thought that you knew you were/are Loved. I didn’t not love you because of the way I saw you I just didn’t believe I could help you in anyway without dragging myself down. Things have changed so much since you died and it’s been such a short time but I now know how wrong I was. There have been deep trenches dug in this Heart this year and I sense that there has been Healing between you and I. I don’t feel your anger so strongly … in a sense I feel your compassion for me and mine for you. You were never really a son … you were a best friend and a brother … one that I took for granted and sometimes vice-versa. 


Erlinda seems to be doing fairly well. Her hair is green again but it looks very good on her. I can see how you fell in Love with her … she seems very easy to fall for. She also seems a lot like you … a RebelYell … which I hope you always heard as a compliment … my calling you RebelYell … I meant it as a compliment. 


                                                                    ***


You think your rage is justified when your expectations are not met; yet it is the expectations themselves that create the rage.


Get away from me. I am sick of your justified anger.


                                                                  ***


Anne Sexton on editing one of her poems:


“It is kind of like sandpapering a sunburn, but I am doing it.” (Page 57, Letters)


:o)))

​                                                                     ***


From Anne Sexton, page 60:


              “People who belong together; do not need to be glued together.”


That is a beautiful way of saying it. It was supposedly said by Freud while on his death bed. Repeating the repetition here. :o)


                                                                     ***


Yesterday two dreams were had, actually there were quite a number of dreams but only two were clearly remembered … one was of coming home to The Decompression Chamber and finding it had been robbed. It was very disappointing. The other was of making out with my first husband Brian. It was noteworthy only in that I don’t recall ever dreaming of him before and also it was Mikel’s actual Birthday and Brian sort of played the fatherly role for Mikel from ages 3 to 7. I didn’t wish to get up and write any of it down yesterday … there was a mental push to do it but no energy or impetus to actually get up. However, it kept coming up today to at least jot it down that they were had.


                                                                   ***


2017 11.29 - Internally or externally::


                      "Who speaks over The Silent Still Voice of God?"


This has been coming up for months, especially after smoking a bowl or eating some oil (which by the way the oil … which had been forgotten about for months … is fucking intense!). About 30-45 minutes after ingesting the whole world changes and it’s like:


                                        “What the hell is going on?”


And it comes up:


                                                       “The oil!”


And I am utterly surprised because I will think I haven’t taken anything because it doesn’t seem like you do when you eat oil. It is a very strange thing when it comes up:


                    "Who speaks over The Silent Still Voice of God?"


It is as if the mind/thoughts go:


                                                           Eeeeek!


Because it is momentarily seen what they are doing, what thoughts or words actually do … they actually speak over:


                                      The Silent Still Voice of God.


It seems such Arrogance! Bigger than Arrogance. And you want to put a hand over it’s mouth, but there is no hand! No mouth! It is a very strange thing, especially with Cannabis because the sound can be quite deafening. Both the non-sound of Stillness and the massive sound of thought. It also can make for a bit of paranoia but no more or less than what is usually had. The strangest part is not being able to do anything about it. It makes you want to stop thinking, but you can’t you simply see that they are rather obnoxiously blunting out or clouding over or screaming over:


The Silent Still Voice of God.