frozen in memory
erupting without warning
dear earth gasps for air
* * * * *
haunting
sounds of
choking
escalate
no words
no breath
no time Read the rest of this entry »
The last line of the dream names my hunger: “She seems lonely for someone to talk with about real life.” Other parts of the dream identify behaviors I might want to leave behind, and a few unexpected personal capacities and resources. This post focuses on my hunger, and describes how things begin falling apart. Read the rest of this entry »
Hunger. A fierce, relentless presence. Sometimes for food when I was a child, later for sisterly conversation. Not friendly polite talk, but safe, open, honest two-way conversation about our fears, agonies and dreams as we were growing up in the 1950s.
It wasn’t that we consciously chose not to talk with each other as sisters; it just wasn’t safe. Besides, back then I wasn’t aware of being hungry for this. I focused instead on staying out of trouble. Sadly, I didn’t pull that off very well. Read the rest of this entry »
My father set out to attain one goal: to break my will. So did he? Back then I would have argued that he most certainly did NOT break my will! See how much spunk I still have in me? Just listen to the angry voices in my head! I might be sitting down on the outside, but I’M DEFINITELY STANDING UP ON THE INSIDE! Read the rest of this entry »
When did it all begin?
When did I enter your supply chain?
When did I become a commodity, a disposable object
not for sale but for use on demand,
with or without pay?
When did I become your toy
to imagine as prey,
to stalk, hunt down,
toss around and torment
with or without warning? Read the rest of this entry »
As boyfriends go, grades 5 to 7 were my Golden Girl Years. Artie was it. I felt a little attraction toward him—especially when he gave me gifts. But it was miniscule compared to his pursuit of me which included regular pleas for me to ‘help’ him with his homework.
Artie was my only designated boyfriend before I went to college at age 16. In fact, I arrived at college without having had one single date. This doesn’t mean I was oblivious to boys. Here’s my annotated true confessions list of boys Read the rest of this entry »
There’s this boy in my life. He thinks he’s my boyfriend, and he won’t go away. He’s a bother and a pest. Constantly pushing the limits. I think he’s coming to our school because someone (his grandmother, who takes care of him?) wants him to be turned into a well-behaved young man. Not a chance, if you ask me. Read the rest of this entry »
Short answer: No. Nothing you say or do will change this family rule. The other answer always freaked me out and embarrassed me. No, because bodily contact between women and men when they dance and are not married to each other mimics sexual intercourse. The first step down the path of moral destruction. Read the rest of this entry »
Daddy, Mother, Elouise. Until I started blogging, I was interested mainly in the meaning of my name. Now that I’m blogging I’m getting questions about the way I use other ‘names’: Daddy, my father, and Mother. I’m also thinking again about my name. Does it matter? Read the rest of this entry »
Telling the Truth 