As usual life has a way of getting in the way.  Been busy with work and beading.  My sister’s company in the city asked me to host a small party and custom made several bracelets.  It was a good showing and they have asked me to come back in November to plan out Christmas gifts.  Still in physical therapy and it looks like I’ll be going back to the ortho for a follow up as I’m not getting better.  I make small improvements then fall back, its frustrating.

I have tried writing to get through all this but I guess it’s put up a big block for me and making it difficult to even fill one coherent sentence with how Ive been feeling.  But other than that I guess it’s all good.  Work is well work and home life is quiet.  So I guess I shouldn’t complain.  But I think it’s time I’ve made a appt to sit down with the big dogs upstairs and demand a real raise.  I can’t keep living so tightly and freaking out whenever something comes up.  Like now, my 16 year old cat, who I bottle raised since 2 weeks old, hurt her leg.  I need to get her to the vet but I can’t afford the bill.  Such a fucked up situation.  This is shit I thought I would deal with in my 20′s, but here I am 41 living hand to mouth.  Doesn’t help when the husband is barely working so he can’t contribute and I’m left to bear it all.  

I’m gonna keep this short because I think if I stay it’ll become a bitch fest…lol.  

 

It began with an innocent request

Just a taste was all he wanted

Something to remember me by

To hold him over for a time

Yet how could I know what would happen to me

In giving you a small part of me

Now I wait and ache for just a word from you

Anything to fill the void your presence left behind

So here I wait

Passively until you call for me

To take even more of me

Though I know I should turn and go

For fear of losing all of me

I cannot will myself to leave 

Until you’ve taken me

 

I can feel myself trembling, anticipating his touch.

Tensing just before our skin connects

The firm intentions behind each motion

It’s the tenderness and care that puts me at ease

The control that he takes chases away the fears

The darkness, and the memories that threaten to take over

But your touch perseveres

Molding me

Creating

Unmaking

Yet remaking

Not till I hear you voice bringing me back

Commanding

Demanding

Leaving nothing left in me to deny what you ask of me

‘

 

As some of you know I received my Nikon D5100 for Christmas and have been slowly taking photos.  Back in June I took a photography class that took us to a sanctuary to photograph injured raptors that would never be capable of returning to the wild.  Out of all the birds the great horned owl was by far my favorite.  She was huge!!!  And she looked at each and every one of us.  You knew you were standing in the presence of royalty, and she held herself as such.  The trust she had with her handler was beautiful.  But I felt beyond privileged that this beautiful majestic bird allowed us to take her photo over and over again.  Out of the hundreds of photos I took this one by far was my favorite.  I was so proud of the job I did, but I must admit, the lens I had borrowed from the studio really made me look like a pro…lol.   I hope to upload more, it’s been a little tough as I’ve been shooting in raw file and it’s such a big file that it doesn’t always download to each format easily.  But I do have more, even from the sea turtle release I went to last weekend in the Hamptons.  I will do my best to share some more.

 

She tried to stop his hands as they pushed up her loose track pants, “You really don’t have to work on my thighs today,” she said as she turned to sit up on the table. 

But it was too late, his hands had felt the welts before he’d even seen them, “What is this.” he asked through clenched teeth. “ Who did this to you?” 

Kit twisted around, her eyes cast down. “ It’s not what you think, really.”

“Not what I think!?” he said as he glanced back down at her now covered leg.  He pushed the material back up and gently caressed the softening pink welts that left a striped pattern across the back of her thigh.  “Who did this to you Kit?  Don’t make me ask again.”

He went to check her other leg and sure enough he growled under his breath when he saw the same healing pink welts marring her other leg. 

Kit sighed and forced herself into a sitting position.  “Really Eric it’s not what you think, it’s not like that at all.” 

She swung her legs over the table attempting to step off when he stopped her by standing in front of her, positioning himself between her legs.  His hands on her shoulders, he took a deep breath. “Look I’m not going to do anything, but if you need help I will do whatever I can.” 

“Eric really, I’m okay.  Nothing happened that I did not allow.”

“ALLOW?!”  he questioned, “Why would you allow anyone to abuse you like this?”

“It’s not abuse Eric if you ask for it.”  Kit was beginning to feel embarrassed now, she needed to get out, she had forgotten about the welts and had just been looking forward to a therapeutic massage to work out all the kinks of a very long and hard week.  She shook her head to herself, great now I’m going to have to find a new masseuse.

She tried to stand up but Eric stood in her way, and the unmoving pressure from his hands on her shoulders told her he wasn’t moving anytime soon. 

Several painful seconds went by when Eric finally looked down and met her eyes, “Look I’m no one to judge, I don’t understand, but I still wont judge.  Let’s finish your session, I mean you’ve already paid for it, might as well get the most out of your money ok?”  He looked at Kit with a strained smile.

“Okay,” she gave Eric an encouraging smile, Kit turned back around to lay on the table. 

Still unsure of what to say or what to do, Eric decided to pick up where he left off.  Slowly rolling her track pants up to just below her buttocks, he softly caressed her raised welts, tracing them with his finger tips.  He was boggled as to why she would let someone hit her so hard that they would leave such welts, really couldn’t be comprehended.  He grabbed the jar of lotion and started top gently run it into her skin.  Starting with her calves he started to rub out the tight muscles that had formed in them.  He continued his ministrations, but could not take his eyes off her thighs.  The pink welts which must have been at one point an angry red seemed to highlight the soft caramel color of her tanned skin.  As he switched to the other calf he became fascinated at how and why she had them, and he felt a flicker of anger and yes even jealousy over the one who put them on her.

Eric continued with his massage running his hand up the back of Kit’s knee to her thigh, circling from the inner thigh and around making slow gently circles as he rubbed in more lotion and marveled at the feel of her raised skin.  The low moan that came from Kit startled him back to reality.

“Did I hurt you?  Was that too hard?”  he asked anxiously.

“No, I’m sorry I didn’t mean to startle you, it actually felt good.  Would you mind pressing in a little harder like you normally do?”

“Are you sure?”

Kit laughed, “Yes Eric, I know you wont hurt me, it’s okay.”

Eric’s heart picked up a bit as she said his name, but shook his head once more to get his head back to the task at hand.  For the next 20 minutes he finished up a deep massage on both her thighs, doing his best to think of anything and everything but the obvious pink elephant in the room. 

Kit sat up and stretched her arms over her head, “Thank you so much Eric, I really needed that today.”

“Sure Kit, if you have any problems you know how to reach me.  Do you need to make another appointment?”

Kit thought for a moment, wondering if now her little secret was out should she continue with Eric.  He was the best therapeutic masseuse in the area, and he had come highly recommended.  Not to mention he was so damn cute.

“Sure, 2 weeks same time?

“Same place,” he answered as he walked her out.

He watched Kit enter her car and found himself still standing in the doorway long after she had driven off. 

 

“Earth to Eric”  a familiar voice called out to him.

“Oh hey Dave, what’s up?”

“Nothing, you okay?”  Dave looked at his coworker with concern.

“Yeah I’m fine, just thinking?’

“About?” Dave pushed.

“About why some people would actually allow themselves to be marked or endure something painful?”  Eric blurted out.  He never meant to mention what he had seen on Kit’s body, nor was he sure about how he was feeling about it.  He felt intrigued, and in all honesty he was a bit turned on at the thought of the marks on her body.

“Oh so you heard about that new underground club in the city?”

“What club?”  Eric turned away from the door to face his friend.

“There’s a new kink club that I heard some people talking about.”

“Kink club?”  Eric looked at Dave confused.

“Yeah you know, like S & M, whips and chains, bondage, that sort of thing.”

Eric looked at his friend amused that he would even know such a place existed, “And what would you know about a place like that?”

Dave laughed and slapped Eric on the shoulder, “Because scantily clad women in chains is hot.”

At that Dave walked away leaving Eric to marinate on the idea and visions of depravity to ponder, and he felt a stirring in his belly.

 

For all the pain its caused

For the lies you’ve spun

And the tears I’ve shed 

Why is it I’ll never shake you out of my head

I argue with myself that I waited for your return

To lay the guilt of my pain at your feet

But in truth that is a my own white lie

All I ever wanted was for your return 

To sneak back under cover of night

Hidden from all but me

To pick me up out of my despair

To hold me and let me feel it was never in vain

These feelings I had for you

The ones that never died

The ones that begged to be kept alive

No matter how painful

Or how stupid some may say they are

Then a fool I may be

If it could grant me just one moment of joy

To fill my heart with peace

To know if you ever still think of me

Well I guess it’s time to say goodbye. Xanga did not meet it’s goal and after tomorrow it will be no more.  So it’s time to back up all my posts and keep a few memorable emails.  I can’t say I am ready to let go because it sucks.  I’ve been around a few blog sites and nothing compares to Xanga.  Along the way I’ve learned lessons and hopefully have gotten better with my writings.  I’ve been inspired, I’ve been pissed off, I’ve been fooled and hurt, and I’ve made a couple of friends here that I will cherish for a lifetime.  I know I haven’t posted much these past couple of months, I guess I’ve been preparing myself to withdraw and also because the thought of the mass exodus has left me uninspired.  

I wish you all well, thank you for reading my blogs, all the comments, the love and encouragement.  Hopefully we will all meet again!

 

Kat

 

Sometimes it’s difficult when the time has come to put it all away

You look back and wonder where the time had gone

Did you really let it go so far?

Let it get so bad you don’t know where you are?

Time after time I’ve seen with my own eyes

The truth beyond the lies

The promises to make amends

To keep the tears unshed

But they were all a waste of time

Time lost that will never be regained

Time waiting and hoping it can all work out

Yet here I stand

Proof that people never change

Drowning from the regrets I have

Deciding which path I know must choose

To actually live a life that’s mine

Either way I lose at this game

Aged and broken 

I will now make it on my own

With a prayer in my heart

That it wasn’t too late to start.

I just found out the other day that back in ’96 a kid I went to grade school with for 8 years, that his father was murdered in front of him.  I was shocked and saddened by the news.  Then I saw the video clip from the news on an interview with him, as they have reopened the case.  I have to admit the first thought I had was that he killed his father.  For the sake of the post we’ll call him “Benny”.  I went to school with Benny from 1st -8th grade in a Catholic school.  We had small classes and back then, particularly my class, we were considered the bad kids.  We weren’t criminals or anything, we were bored kids not getting enough out of our education or burning off much needed energy that led us to misbehave and act out.  We used to sing in the choir on Sundays for mass but we were so unable to not goof off that they wouldn’t allow us to continue as we would occasionally disrupt mass.  

Benny is of Asian descent, and back then we had him pegged in the stereotypical Asian nerd category.  Essentially he was.  He was a smart student, and was always taunted his A’s in class and would have fits if he didn’t achieve a perfect score or was considered to be the best in the class.  I’ll never forget the school science fair where I did a study on a dissected frog and he had some rocket science project that we all knew his father did for him.  Of course he won, and I was completely upset because I had to kill a frog to complete my project.  I never considered him a close friend or someone I wanted to hang out with, to me even back then there was something about him that rubbed me the wrong way and kept him at arms length.  

We all went our separate ways to high school and college.  Then with the invention of facebook, I’ve reconnected to several old classmates, one of whom I stay in constant contact with.  I’ve thought about him on occasion when asked if I knew or found anyone else on facebook.  The few times I did think of Benny I assumed that he would be in some top company running things, or a doctor or even a scientist.  He just struck me as the type to be so ambitious to the best.  And then I saw the video.  To hear him describe the murder just seemed off, maybe he was nervous when he laughed and looked away from the camera.  I found it unusual that no one saw anything and there was no description of the gunman.  He describes leaving his father in the driveway to stop his mother from coming out and just saying dad died, this right after his father was shot.  You would think he would have been by his father’s side trying to save him.  His brother and sister soon move out of the family’s house and separate themselves from him.  He stayed on living with his mother, stating he felt he needed to take care of her now that his father was gone, she passed away in 2001 due to complications of diabetes.  Unfortunately Benny still lives in the same house, according to the reporter, reliving the nightmare of his father’s death every day as he walks down the driveway.  The pictures of the house are bad, it shows the lack of care over the years, and the reporter states that Benny being stuck in the trauma of it all has been unable to move on with his life and ended up a bartender in a local bowling alley for the past several years and is unable to repair and maintain the home.

He probably had nothing to do with it, and is suffering from PTSD.  Maybe in losing his father who we all remember to be such a loving family man who did everything he could to give his children the world, he lost himself.  Maybe I’m just jaded and only remember the child who threw tantrums and was always given his way.  Who tried to bully everyone and even his family at a young age, and can see a different angle than anyone else can.  Maybe I’m the one with the problem to begin with.  But I can’t shake the fact that his behavior on camera was odd, to the interview printed in the paper points to a man might have just had a hand in his father’s death.  

It must be just me, and it’s sad to think that is how I see things now.

I’ve lived in my head for so long that the real world is overwhelmingly disappointing.  I’ve daydreamed of living a life so unlike my own, all with one goal in mind…acceptance.  I wonder though even now if I am looking for acceptance from others or myself.  Maybe it’s both.  For as long as I remember I have never been happy with myself, I haven’t been able to settle with what I have achieved or been unable to achieve.  Maybe I expect too much from myself, but I once dreamed big, I mean really big.  Yet my life is anything but.  I know that this is life and you have to make due with what you’ve been given or able to accomplish, yet when I was younger I fantasized about how grand life would be as an adult, I never counted on anything but myself to make it and own it.  But as I grew older the cruelty life taught me stole more and more of the spirited soul I felt I once had.  Once as a young girl I dreamed of finding unicorns and riding in the equestrian trials,  and now I can barely crawl through the fires around me.  Although I’ve always pictured myself alone, I never knew I would be so lonely.  

I’m not sure how I ended up this way.  Was it the exclusion as a child from my siblings?  My parents ignoring me and never having the time?  Was it the years I was molested and warped into thinking it meant he loved me then felt worthless as he grew up and moved on to girls his age who he wasn’t related to?  Was it the names I was called growing up by my siblings or the lack of compassion my parents gave when they saw how it hurt me?  Was it always feeling the only reason why anyone wanted me around was to use for something or anything?  Any or all of it reinforcing the low self esteem that still sits with me today? Funny thing was I was the popular one in school, the one the student body would look to.  And even then I felt like a stranger even to myself.  

Yet here I am, a 41 year old woman who still loses herself in her books and poetry.  Pretending everything is alright even when it’s not.  And I know life has so much more to give, and I can take it if only I reach out.  I may get slapped back down, but I know I will have to find a way to get back on my feet and move forward.  Even those days when I am filled with a loathing for myself and the choices I’ve made, I will always continue to place one step in front of the other.  The problem I find is the path I have walked upon has always been the more arduous one of all.  

No, life was never meant to be easy but I wonder when I am allowed a break.  When do I get to sit back and release the tears I’ve held back inside and feels the comfort of someone’s strength holding me, allowing me to be vulnerable and not be taken advantage of it?

I don’t know if that will ever happen, but I do know at some point I have to find something, anything that can help me learn to love who I am and what I have to give.  To let go of the disappointment and anger I have for myself, and embrace life with a whole new attitude.  To smile and not fake it.  To find my place among others and be proud of who I am.  

Who knows when or if this could happen, all I know is that I am still here, alive and breathing.  I can hope a day will come when I can look at the woman in the mirror and accept her for who she is, and know she deserves so much more.