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Monday, February 21, 2011

Warning: Anatomically Correct Memory

My body keeps my oral history. Or better, lingual or (warning overused word approaching) metaphysical??Well. Body memories are dogged, I have worked very hard to dis-connect from my body (or maybe that was just an autopilot thing) but sometimes, they launch. usually in my genital area. I'll never be certain why. I have some ideas, but never certainty. Sometimes its oddly reassuring because if this is what I was dealt as a toddler (for some reason I'm thinking 2-3 yrs) then it explains everything about me. The lack of boundaries, the passiveness, the weak joints (oh yes, I put up as big a struggle as my little self could). Knees, Hips, Shoulders, all have made their presence known over the years. When one is held down, one fights, one fights, one fights...then stops because it doesn't work. Doesn't work. The promiscuity. The LACK OF SELF ESTEEM. The GHOST PRESENCE. I fought - my body confirms I did, but no one noticed = I don't exist, because if I did, someone would have noticed and helped me, right??can't change that. Can't know. can't know in a way I can comprehend and put to rest. My body is trying to help me, I guess. Some sort of reenactment where I get the chance to experience without the danger, a kind of self-EMDR (does this work?). Except that I fight again, i think STOP STOP, I push with all my might, I  remain terrified. Terror is my invisibility cloak. I wear it everyday, no ones sees. It's molten, it's fused to my skin. Physical intimacy fraught with dread. I have been robbed of so much. Many, so many of us, robbed of life before we even know we are alive. There's no pawn shop with serial numbers of our souls. We cannot reclaim.I live with this mystery. It is coloured outside of the lines. So my art is as well. And my alarm system is in on.

Sunday, February 20, 2011

A Picture is Worth...etc.

Couldn't recall if I'd posted this before.
A little of me - a little of others.

Friday, February 18, 2011

Weathering Emotional Umbrellas...

Emotions travel in packs. They set upon you from all dimensions. When I was working I called emotions like anger an "umbrella" emotion because there were so many more different feelings wrapped up in it, but anger is the societally accepted label. Frustration is another one, discouragement, sadness, helplessness, etc. Spectrum feelings. No feeling exists in a vacuum. No feeling exists on its own.  It's a sociological phenomenon as well as psychological.

Whatever, I had a thought last night and though I could write about it, I haven't written in a long time. I feel reluctant to write now, I know it helps me detox yet it's a struggle to let myself succumb to writing about them. It's twisted that way, I know I need a ventilation system. So just write Kel, be in the moment and reach inwards, there is always something to say if i just keep at it. it doesn't matter if it is relevant to anyone else, yet I hope it is. I feel so alone, and I self-isolate, so it's an chicken and egg thing too.

We are conceived in a group, we develop inside another person, we don't start out in  this world being alone, we are never alone and yet loneliness can assail us. Neglect, deprivation in all their forms. I get hurt so I stay away. I crave acceptance yet dread the idea of feeling un-special. This is a relentless battle I imagine  everyone struggles with, how do we give our uniqueness and similarities a balance of attention and nourishment??

Treating different people the same ways gets different outcomes. However we are influenced - biologically, organically, socially, etc., equality of opportunity does not guarantee equity. How do I celebrate rather than denigrate my self. What are the real character flaws, which are the imagined ones?

Anyhow, I am feeling uninspired writing wise. Bye.