Car Sick?

I went on a ride in the car today and we were on a winding, mountain road. It reminded me of when I was young and we would go to Stinson Beach.  The road to this particular beach is so winding and goes on for miles and miles it is just nightmarish. I don't care how beautiful it is on the scenic California Coast, I would rather drop dead then go on that road again.  There are turn-outs so that cars can pass you if you are going to slow. It is a two lane road and you must be a patient driver to be able to withstand the length of the drive.




What reminded me today of what had happened was so ridiculous.  I became instantly sick to my stomach and in less than a second had a flashback about this treacherous road.  Thinking on the trip when I was very small. The same thing happened, I got car sick, very car sick.  My step-father was driving and I am not sure he had been in that position very long.  He is also fourteen years younger than my mother, so his patience for a small child was not long.  But, I will never forget him yelling at me and getting so angry, saying that it was ridiculous and absurd that I was sick.  There was no reason for it and if I just knew how to look out the window properly (he is British) than I would not be at all ill.



I am not sure of my exact age, I was young.  They had to stop the car for me to puke.  It was quite the inconvenience and I was told that I was doing it for attention.  My mother never defended me, not one time during any ordeal actually.  She sat and smiled at the entire affair. Pleased that she no longer had to put up with such stupidity on her own.  I don't know about you, but windy roads still make me ill.  Now I become more ill because the flashback makes the entire first experience live again.  What a nightmare to keep living.  All because you are never meant to get car sick in the first place.  By the way, you are not meant to make any noise when you sneeze either.  As per my step-father who beat me for any reason he could think of, always at the time of his frustration with life or family or any other moment of rage.

The Truth Of Tragedy

I found out the other day that the members of my mothers congregation knew my father.  I had no idea that the reason for the divorce was a disagreement between my mother and the man on my birth certificate over starting a church.   He did not believe in taking advantage of other people to make money.  Apparently this was my mothers plan from the get go.  I also did not know that the members of the congregation were against the divorce from the beginning, it went against Gods word.

What I was wondering then, was if my step-father came into the picture as a nanny for my mothers children, then would they not have been against marrying the nanny.  My step-father was the nanny before they were divorced and I thought the divorce was over him.  I guess it is all smashed together in my head, it was such a short time in between my father leaving and my step-father moving in.  In fact, I am fairly certain that there was an overlap in there somewhere, which has caused the confusion that I suffer from.  What I was thinking about today is if they (my now parents) are such up-standing Christians, is it not against Gods instructions to have extra-marital affairs?  I am fairly certain of that one and the one about having sex before marriage.  I know the reason she originally got married was she was pregnant with my older sister.  It was a shotgun marriage, it took place very quickly. I do remember she and my now step-father sleeping together before my then father had left the home.  This was all because he had gone away one night and I went to crawl in bed with my mother and was very promptly thrown out by a strange man.  The bedroom was locked after that, permanently.

I was told by my older sister that the man on my birth certificate is not my father. I know that several years ago when his (my father) mother died he found a picture that he thought was me while cleaning out her house.  He went around for several days saying to everyone helping him, "look a picture of my youngest daughter."  Eventually he turned it over and it had the wrong name on it, it had my little sisters name.  He freaked and started to count back the years to figure out if it was possible that my step-father was my father.  After some amount of time and a lot of counting he figured out that it was quite impossible.  The step-father did not come into our lives as a nanny until I was three.  My father felt very relieved that this man was not my father.  It turns out that my fathers relief was only the fact that this man was not my father, apparently someone else may be my actual father, he just does not know who it is.  He shared the entire story with me, it did upset me a little bit and we were on the phone at the time so he could not see my face turn a ashy white color. I was not sure what to say, so I didn't say anything.

I am not sure why exactly I was thinking about all of this today. It is odd to know that in a church that is meant to have a church leader that is an example to all, that it all began around so much controversy.  I can tell you it is most definitely a cult, it is identified as a cult still today.  However, how do all the original members find it so easy to blame my mother for absolutely everything when they were privy to so much.  It was starting to make more sense to me why nobody will speak to me because it seems that I cause a rather big issue.  I have contacted lots of people from my youth trying to put it together in my mind a bit better.  All accept for two of them refuse to speak to me.  In fact, they have told the two that it causes them to much stress and the worry I will tell my mother I am speaking to them.  In doing so they fear she will begin to harass them again.  I know that my mother hires private investigators to find these old church members.  But what has me curious today is what on earth are all of these people hiding? 

Out of all of my siblings I am the scape-goat child or blame child of the crew.  I feel as if my older sister and younger sister are the golden child, just separated by seventeen years and a marriage to two different men.  I do not know if that is possible with a Narcissistic Mother, but it does seem to be the character that each of them portrays.  I have always been the child left in the dark or better put, raised in a bubble.  I have always accepted the blame for everything, I never really thought differently about any of that until now.  What are they all hiding and why collectively have I gotten the cold shoulder and the silent treatment from absolutely everybody involved.  It all seem to start five years. Wouldn't it be odd if what I have written about is not just true but extremely accurate.  I know they fear I will write a book about my life.  This is what brought on the "lets ignore and abandon Karen yet again."   I had not written a book at that time.  I have completed one book in the past month, I am still working on editing and deciding exactly what I want to do with it, it happens to be in poetic verse.  It tells the story and is in chronological order, you just would have to know how to read it that way I suppose. 

My shrink says that if I wrote a book about my life that it would be a best-seller.  I was thinking about all of that today and I was wondering if what I have written is as accurate as I feel it is and as I am trying to decide how to handle this wonderful investigation into my youth, it continues to turn up story after story that match-up with my memories perfectly.  I used to wonder if what was in mind was true?  I used hope that it was not my life. I used to try to talk myself into the fact that I had just watched a bad movie and that it was really somebody else's life or something along those lines.  The further I go, the more real it becomes to me, that sadly it is my life.  It is funny that they all gave me the silent treatment and the cold shoulder.  It was just like being three or four years old when I was so alone and the exact same treatment had happened to me for different reasons.  Much to long of a story to tell here today.  But, oddly enough it was this treatment that they began to give me five years ago that started the flashbacks and the curiosity of "Is what I keep seeing in my brain really what happened to me, please tell me that this cannot be true." I said this to myself and every step that I have taken for the past five years has only concreted this horrific fact. I wrote this a few years ago and it sure does measure up to what I am feeling today, it is titled, "Nothing Said."

The rolling tape in my brain dead head,
shows pictures of all, they just aren't dead,

in spirit or mind or soulful dread,

pictures showing with nothing said.

I wonder if I had known that it would have only proven it all to be true, as oppose to trying to prove to myself that it was not true, would I have still gone on this journey to find out the truth of my life that was playing in my head driving me absolutely nuts.  Since my mother is obviously into extra and pre-marital affairs, I do wonder who my father may be.  I  guess that is what started me writing today.  Maybe there is hope that I am not totally related to this entire mess.  A small blessing would be the ray of light I need in my life to find out what hope actually may be.  What a sad state of affairs if so many people know the truth of what I have written about in poems and they just will not step up to the plate and testify to it.  My best friend from three or so committed suicide over all of this tragedy.  What human beings will do to hide the truth amazes me today.

The Pain Of Neglect

I have been in touch with an old church member.  She was telling me how neglected I was as a child.  She said that she and one of the other woman felt as if they were my second mother.  Apparently, my mother was so busy starting her new church that she did not have time for me. 




I have always known that I spent a lot of time alone. I have always known that I had been isolated from everyone.  I knew that before these people came into my mothers and my life that we spent lots of time in places that I sat by myself and waited for her to finish what she was doing.  It was when I was unattended that an awful lot of negative things did happen.  But, its different when an adult tells you now, and you are now an adult listening to them.  I had never put the word neglect on myself before. I always thought of myself as lonely or feeling extremely alone in this world, but neglect or to say severe neglect brings up this pain in me this evening that I can barely take.  It is not like the pain is new, but it has never come like this before.



It is as if I am filled with a liquid poison and it is killing me on my insides.  For some reason tonight I was hit with such loneliness, the pain of which is unspeakable.  My decision not to have my family in my life is not up for question. I believe it to be a solid choice and I am determined to continue to keep them away from me.  I know that being alone is something we are meant to be able to do and something that we should strive for in our lives.  I know that it is a time for reflection, meditation and to become one with ourselves.  The pain of loneliness in me is different.  It is deep and causes such sadness in my soul.  As if I have never been without it and when this person told me the condition that I was in when she met me, it stifled my existence, bringing such sorrow into my heart.  To have what you know already put into such concrete words by an adult at the time that you were three or so, is almost to much to take.  The pain of so many years made so real in just a day seems almost cruel in nature.  I wonder do people think what will happen to you if they tell you the truth that you are already feeling?  I'm afraid there is no cure for this one, it runs in such a way that I feel unsteady and light-headed from it.



I used to walk back and forth in my room and say, "I am alive, I am a life, I'm not an it." I remember pacing, repeating and pacing some more.  I re-live this in flashbacks.  Does the pain of neglect ever end, or does it just always cause you to scream in silence and live in closets?

So, My ...

 My  sister came out to California and we drove an R.V. back across the country to Louisiana, this was five years ago.  It was the strangest trip I have ever had been on. I heard so many times, "I feel so bad you never had a childhood."  I am not quite sure how many times I heard this from her, but enough I began to do a lot of wondering about it.  My sister is seven years older than I am. We had not spent any amount of time together since I was 12 or 13 years old when she had left for New York City to attend Julliard. She never returned from the school, she had a falling out with my mother and I never heard from her until I contacted her when I took off from home.  At 18 I contacted her and spent a couple weeks visiting her in New York.  I had a good time, it was rather intense and not really the person I had remembered.  So, pretty much since then, 1983 would have been the year I visited, I have not spent anytime with her. I was excited when she offered to have me come back and live with her and her family.  I thought it would be a great opportunity to know if the decision I had made when I was young was correct. I did not always see eye to eye with her, she seemed preoccupied as we all did but I disagreed with some of her tactics.

We lasted for two and a half weeks before she left me with her lover in an R.V. Park in Ft. Worth, Texas.  I still don't know why she left me.  I don't even know exactly how she was able to do it.  It seemed one moment was fine and the next she was packing her bag and walking towards the front gate of the R.V. park and hitching a ride back to LA. She took her belongings and some of mine, walked away without a word.  I wondered if it was the guilt of having a lover when she had a husband. I still don't know exactly why, but the guy she left me with was very cool.  I explained I had never driven and R.V. before, that my sister had done all of the driving across the country. She had failed to teach me how to drive this 32 foot monster.  I told him that I would get him back to the Dallas/Ft Worth airport and that other than saying that, I don't know what to say about what just happened with my sister.

He was an unusually calm man. He put his arms around me and gave me a big hug.  He told me it would be O.K. and oddly enough it was.  Together we ended up breaking camp, an adventure when you have never unhooked things by yourself.  We ended up driving to a Motel near the airport. I was to chicken to drive into the airport, as I had only about 45 miles of driving this beast under my belt.  We are still friends on facebook and he along with one other man that I met randomly on a mutual blogging site, have been real supporters of me when I am down.  Thank you for that day, you made a very strange time, a time that I could get through. I was so grateful that I was not alone when she decided to do this to me.

I don't know why I started to think about this today. I guess it's because it is raining and I don't feel well.  I was sitting here wondering what she meant by saying so many times, that she was sorry that I did not have a childhood.  I was thinking back on when she was talking to me as she drove this R.V.  down the highway. She looked sad, upset, guilty, mad, angry and mostly frustrated that somehow I didn't get it.  She would look at me as she was talking and I would say in response, don't worry about it, if you don't know what you are missing, then you really cannot miss it, she got so upset with me. She told me how I didn't understand how much I was missing. I told her, that was the point.  She told me that when Mom was married to Dad, before I was born that they did this and that, I said, "Yea, I know, you have told me several times." She got angry finally and just said that I didn't get it and never would.  It seemed like she was fighting back all these tears and guilt.  The mixed emotional signals were difficult to react to but I didn't know what to say or do.

We had traveled for quite some time. It takes a while to drive half way across the country.  The subject of my childhood had not come up in conversation for at least 300 miles.  But, then once again the subject was at hand.  I finally stopped her and said, "My childhood was had by me. It may not have been like yours or like anyone else's, but it was mine and I did have one." I thought for sure that this would work to stop her on this relentless battle over my lack of having any childhood at all.  It did not end there, it kept going, almost right up to the time she left me in that R.V. Park.  I wonder if guilt played a part in her leaving me. Almost since I did not chastise her for having a lover and a husband, somehow I was flawed and did not know the simple rules of life.  I wonder why she was so heated over my lack of childhood. Then I wondered why at no other time in my life, when money for her was available to do kind things for me, that she never did anything at all.  In fact, the only reason we were on this trip was that I had contacted her six previous to this lovely disaster in my life that I was currently going through. I was grateful for her offer to live with her. Of course, I had paid for her ticket to California and I was paying for everything up to the time that she left.  It was odd that she did not help me at all, I found it very expensive and had I known I would not have gone, it was far more than I had to spend.  She scolded me at the Grand Canyon because I said lets not by beverages here, they are really expensive. We can purchase them at the next town, it would better on my pocket book.  She was inflamed to say the least, she told me how if I did not spend money like I had money, then I would never get money.  I didn't really know what to say to her, so I bought her what she wanted to shut her up.

I am babbling a bit, but it causes me concern in my life, when I know that my life causes people to be uncomfortable with themselves.  I mean I did not ask for the life that I received.  It is as if my siblings look at me and my very existence causes them to be angry.  My younger sister told me that I should take a gun and blow my head off, that it would be the best thing for the family.  I wonder what it is that I am missing.  Seems ignorant I guess, but I believe I have been missing it my entire life.  Maybe that is what she was driving at when she said that I never had a childhood and was so bothered by this fact. It makes me sad to cause people to be so angry at me and I don't even know why.  

The Soul Shatterer Continued

As I continue this walk called life, I am reminded of old friends.  I have had a difficult time in the past five years and have lost all of my friends that I had ever known.  At the same time I became willingly estranged from my mother and step-father.  My mother moved in on my family and with my second ex-husband sued me for custody of my two youngest children.  They wanted to go live with their father and so it was not worth the fight in court.  Plus, it would have been the fifth time I had been to court to fight for custody of them.  I was tired, recovering from back surgery for the second time and they wanted to go.  They were 10 and 12 at the time.  I did not realize that my mother had been involved.  Apparently my ex-husband had taken my children to my mothers house in San Francisco and she promised them the moon if they went to go live at their Dad's house.  I found this out after the fact.  It was already to late to do anything and my heart was truly broken after finding this out. 

A few months had passed after they left my house and I could not take the pain, nor the lies from my family anymore.  I packed up my house and my older sister flew out from Louisiana.  The plan was to drive the R.V. back to Louisiana and be with my sister until I felt better emotionally.  I was very excited and since I am not a believer in children going from home to home every weekend it worked out well in my mind.  I was judged heavily by some for not staying but when you consider that I had lost my home because I was paying $1400.00 a month in child support and could no longer afford much of anything, there were not a lot of places or options for me at the time. So, living with family seemed like an opportunity to heal the past and begin a new future. I decided that a new locale far away from my mother and step-father might just be the answer to my life-long pain.  I had it all dreamed up in my head and new that with a little time this would be the place where eventually my children could visit during summer vacations.  I was also healing from a severe back surgery, so my prospects for work had changed.  I needed to re-think what I was going to do with my life.  Little did I know that I had become part of what seemed like a bidding war.

My ex-husband would call me on the phone and scream, "where is my fucking money."  My mother was calling and leaving messages that I just could not understand, nor decipher at the time.  The only person in support of me leaving seemed to be my older sister.  The man that had taken up residence in my home said that I could not leave. He went to tell me that the house was now his and I was subject to what he wanted to do.  I just could hardly move because I missed my kids so much.  I have four children all together.  The oldest graduated was going to University at Berkeley.  I was not invited to her graduation some two years after this was happening.  She has not contacted or spoken to much since this time I am speaking of.  The second oldest moved to San Francisco at this time to attend SF City College.  So this time in my life I was really excited about finally being alone with the younger two and having some very special times. So the depression that hit me was hard and to this day I am still fighting this pain and sadness of loosing so much, so fast. 

It's funny when you look back on something and think about how it all played out.  You would be tempted to wonder, "Well, if I had done this, or, if I had done that."  In my case, I don't ever think that way.  I knew that leaving the Sacramento area was the best thing emotionally for me.  I knew how many secrets were bottled up inside of me.  I knew that my children had no idea about any truth in my life.  I knew that they were only aware of the few things that I had ever told them about my growing up in San Francisco.  My oldest daughter had the most information, in fact, after I had requested of her not to go and live with my mother, step-father, half-sister and half-brother for the summer, she did it anyway.  After many run-ins at the house she finally called me one day and said, "they don't have anything on you Mom."  I told her, "No, but I have plenty on them."  Before my oldest child decided not to speak to me at all anymore, she did come and visit me before I left for LA to ask questions.  I did answer most of the ones I was comfortable answering, but I realized how much I had never told my children.  It became a rather strange day for me, I just had not realized how many secrets that I kept to myself.

Turned out that she had been partying with my younger brother and sister ( I'll refer to them that way, as oppose to the half-brother and half-sister, I find it offensive to myself) going to bars and drinking had spurred her decision to live with my mother that summer. She was only 19 at the time.  Needless to say I was not pleased to find out that my brother and sister who are much closer to my age, were now partying with my daughter.  I confronted my mother on this fact and she told me that they (my brother and sister) were weak minded and that my daughter had coerced them into taking her out every night to drink.  I guess you now know why we parted company or better said became estranged from one another.  I wrote down accounts as they happened in a journal I had started five years ago. I began it at the same time my youngest two children went to go and live with their father.  I started this journal in hopes to not have my life spin out of control, but to stop it before it happened.  I also found a really cool psychologist to have counseling through this very traumatic time.

I was with my counselor for six months prior to my move to Louisiana.  This would have been the first time that I really began to explore the idea of speaking out on my past.  I have always been very nervous about sharing anything of any consequence.  My so called friends, if you were ever to speak to them, would tell you, "Oh yea, we know everything about her life."  In reality, they know nothing about my life.  Although we spoke of my mother often, she was such a hot topic, we never spoke of the real abuse, or the fact that I had been taken to see a psychiatrist at the age three. I never shared that with anyone until recently.  Oddly, I have waited until I have what is in my mind, supported by people who were actually in my life as a child and saw what I had endured. So, all these so called friends that seem to know all there is about me, don't even know what they are talking about in regards to what they believe that I have been through.  The most support, encouragement and forward thinking, has come from the people that have read my blog.

As I read the other blogs, I find myself encouraged today.  Maybe it is terrible to find hope in the pain of the writings of other people, but it helps me know that I am not as alone in this dilemma.  I know that I have a lot to say sometimes.  I know that for years I have gone out of my way not to engage my mind on these affairs.  I know that I had made a decision long ago to just let it all go.  I know that when I was young, I just wanted to be able to grow-up just enough to tell my story and then I changed my mind, as I found out how difficult it is to come to terms with the reality of what has actually happened to you.  I know that I have not kept my promise to myself yet, but I also know that even on a path of destruction you can find healing each day from understanding that what has happened so long ago was not your fault.  I know that if I could tell my story, even if I just write it out to or for myself and I feel this would bring some healing to me.  I know that I watched my mother brain-wash people.  I know that I can write or speak in such a way to explain how you don't need to be re-programmed after being with a cult leader, you need the support to know that what was real, really did happen.  You need to know that these type of people, narcissists or better known to the medical field sociopaths or a malignant narcissist, whatever we collectively would like to refer to this type of personality is very dangerous.  They do speak in a very specific manner which is difficult for the layman to interpret easily.  Truthfully what matters is understanding that with the gift of verse alone, these type of people shatter your soul, destroy your dreams, take from you your individuality and walk away guilt free every time. Most importantly, you must remember that they are repeat performers in our lives.  The benefit we have in all of this madness for ourselves is the hope that eventually, through what seems like great difficulties we can figure this out.  That is truly a blessing in disguise.  Who I feel for with great empathy, in between my own fits of pity for myself personally, is the layman, the next innocent victim, the next member of the church, the person that came from a cult and doesn't know how to heal from what happened. I feel greatly responsible personally for these people.  I am not sure why I carry such a heavy burden.  I sometimes feel disappointed in myself for not acting earlier on behalf of the people that seem to fall victim to this insanity. Maybe its just me, maybe its just I saw to much abuse as a child, maybe its just stupid to carry such a burden for people I don't even know.  But, somehow I feel strongly that my life is my gift, a blessing in disguise, not a curse or something to get over, just something to understand and move on with what I am able to do with such a life filled with trouble. I feel that my service to humanity is helping to undo what I saw done to so many in my life.  I don't know if I would ever be successful at such a task, I just feel compelled to try to help put back into the Universe what I personally saw taken out.

http://thesecretoftheuniversechoice.blogspot.com/2011/03/foresee.html

Why Do We Remember?

The other day I was thinking on the time where my mother threw hot, boiling water on my brother.  He was trying to get away out the back door.  As he was making his way through the kitchen, she grabbed the pot of boiling water and through it on him.  It saturated through his clothes and began to burn his skin.  The kitchen was filled with church members and they were trying to grab him to keep him from running out the back door.  I had been sitting at the kitchen table eating some cereal when the entire event unraveled.  As soon as I saw the fight coming I ducked underneath the table for some protection from all the adults that were filling the kitchen up even further.

It was the last time I remember my brother ever living at that house.  I have not thought on that particular situation in so many years.  In fact, it brought to mind another very dramatic event in my life.  It was at the dining room table in the same house. My step-father lit a match under my brothers bottom while these men were holding him down.  It happened in the middle of dinner and I was on the other side of the table when the entire thing began.  My mother screamed "hold him down, light a fire under his bottom," she said.  It was almost as if these events were practiced, they both went off without a hitch.  My step-father was always ready with whatever he needed in hand to fulfill the wishes of my mother. 

On this particular occasion I had made it all the way around the table and blew two of the matches out.  This was all before a man grabbed me and held me back so I could not blow the third one out.  I remember his pants catching on fire, he jumped and screamed as he was being pinned by whomever had their hands pressing down on his shoulders. Then my memory goes blank. Similar to what happened with the boiling water. My memory of the incident goes so far and then it just goes blank.  I find it frustrating to relive the moment and never be able to see it to its completion.  Never knowing how the entire incident ended.

I often think that my mind is incapable of finishing the memory due to the horror and the shock of the entire event.  When I think about it along these lines I understand that it just may be to much for me to finish the memory of the entire situation.  But if this is the case then why would we remember any of the bad events of our childhood? Especially if we are prohibited from knowing the end-all result.  Is our mind just reminding us of something to beware of that we are coming to close to again?  Is it just our time to remember old things to possibly come to terms with the abuse and the neglect?  What good is it to remember any horrors at all? 

I am 46 years old and have gone through much of my life never having to do much thinking on these events. I put it all into paint cans in my mind.  I sealed each one with a hammer and carefully placed them into hiding.  I kept them secret.  I  had decided at 18 years old, when I ran away from all of this, that it did no good at all remembering that which I can never change.  I also decided not to report any of the abuse or neglect to the authorities because I did not think anyone would believe me.  This has always been a huge sticking point to me.  Even as the years passed and I did try to share a little bit here and there, people would always give me a side ways look and then comment, "you should forgive them."  It was odd how often that was told to me.  Many people even told me that I should begin going to Church so that I could finally find forgiveness for myself.  I have always found that a very odd one to be told, especially since I was so terribly abused with "The word of God."

When I was growing-up my mother would greet me by saying, "The spawn of the Devil has arrived."  She was so pointed in her comments that there was a time around the age of 13 or 14 years old that I did the oddest thing.  I was convinced that I must somehow be marked with 666.  So, I stripped naked in front of one of the bathroom mirrors upstairs and took a good look at myself.  I looked everywhere, in my hair, on my neck, my forehead, my back, there simply was no mark.  I felt better about myself that day but still was very confused about why she insisted I was 666, the spawn of Satan.  I used to be afraid of myself and think that somebody should most definitely kill me if I was this thing.  I had heard of all the acts that 666 was meant to do and it really did frighten me to be this thing. 

Being the spawn of Satan or the Devil depending on the which she called me that day never frightened me as much as being referred to as 666.  I am not sure exactly why, it is rather odd when you put any thought into at all.  I remember the nights that they would barge into my bedroom, with two to four church members in tow.  All of them together, my  mother and step-father in the lead, would start screaming Hallelujahs and a bunch of Blessed Be's over the Satanic Spawn, me.  I never woke until they hit the door with such excitement and anger, it would slam against the wall upon entry of so many.  I slept in this beautifully carved, single oak bed.  I would hear the door hit the wall and would immediately sit up on the side of my bed.  The attack in my room would generally last a couple of hours.  It would depend on how all the excitement of the attack drove the group.  I sat in silence, never speaking, I mean really, what would you say?  They would all take turns saying that the Demon of Silence had my tongue.  I never understood all of what they said, I would go into a sort of trance myself.  It kind of shut all the voices out. I used to think while I was sitting on the edge of my bed, "I'd rather be in here with all my demons then out there with your God." 

Every once in a while over the years I would think on these times and wonder what on earth they thought that they were doing.  It's strange, as the church members began to fall by the wayside I wondered if they ever thought about what they did to me.  I wonder if they live with their children and have happy lives never thinking what they left behind with my mother.  Do they ever think that they are also responsible for the abuse and neglect I suffered?  Or, do they believe that now they are free of my mothers clutches that they are also free of the responsibility of the acts that they committed?  I know that their children have had to go through extensive therapy.  I know that there children tell the therapists of satanic worship, drugs in the tea, of being in my mothers bathroom, of being laid out on a table in front of the congregation, of hours of being yelled at and screamed at, of being locked in the basement of the Church building, inside of an old elevator in the pitch black.  I know that my best friend did not make it, he committed suicide.  I know that his sister is one of the ones that does tell of these things.  I know that everyone believes that I should just magically move-on, while the children of these members are still in weekly therapy, still talking of these very dark times.

How am I meant to move-on when it is their parents that were part of the horrors of my life.  If the children of the Church members are still having troubled lives, unable to work or function at any kind of level, how am I expected to just drop it and get over everything?  Is it because people believe since I am the daughter of the monster herself, I can just march on through being called a whore, a dirty girl, beaten, raped, manipulated, locked-up, called a thing, an it, surviving incest and severe neglect.  I suffered all of this so that this stupid church could be started and they could live enlightened lives at the time. Did I suffer through them taking up all the time with my mother as if she was there mother, to just live an adult life with the nightmare of it all. They were unable to make a move without her approval or say so.  I know that this is what makes this a cult.  But, what I am asking is, do these same people think about everything they did to me while they were carrying out the orders of my mother on me?  I am not saying that their children are not damaged, for Christs sake they are not that much younger than I am.  In fact, some of them are older than I am.  What I am trying to say is, are these members not also responsible for the damage and bad memories I am having today? I am the only one in my family that has no contact with any of them. So, I am all alone in this world.

I went half of my life moving forward and never talking of the abuse and neglect.  I did not think it would do any good, since my abusers were my parents.  I mean think about it, where would you turn for support or even help.  As the members abandoned her, they would cut off all communication with all of us.  As if somehow I was going to go and do something cult like to them.  In fact, at one time I tried to contact a few of them just to ask them why they did the things that they did to me. I wanted to know if now they believed that it was wrong.  (It was so unfair.)  All they could do is ask me how I got their phone number and did I know their address.  They said that they were worried I would give the information to my mother.  I had told them that I had looked them up personally for my own well-being and hopeful healing.  Again, all they were worried about was that I would tell my mother I had spoken to them and that she would soon be calling them again.  They said that they had finally been able to get their family out of the clutch of the church and wanted nothing further to do with it or anyone related to her.  I told them that I had no support because as they already knew I had been the defiant one since I was young.  They wished me luck and said that my mother was to powerful.  They said they could not help me because they had been under her manipulative control for all those years.  They went on very quickly, saying that they had already lost years of their life, that their children had lost out on having parents and it was time to end things with this time in their life.  I didn't know what to say at the time, so, I hung up the phone with none of my questions answered.

What And Why?

Why is it you survive?  Why do you try so hard to get over what has happened to you and yet what has happened to you makes you who you are.  How do you move on from the past when it is slaming you in the face in the present. How do you take life when life delivered you to a monster?  If you don't know love, why is that so bad? If you are the child of a monster, does that make you one?  How do you put one foot in front of another when your flashbacks go live?  How do you stop the pain, when all you know is pain and it hurts all the time?  How do you fight to get back up on your feet, when your feet are tired of running?  How do you do what you promised yourself to do when you were young, when nobody will take the time to listen?  How do you tell a story when the story is your life?  How do you undo your sin, when your sin is being born?  How do you communicate to anyone that a con is still being run today?  How do you tell anyone that you cannot let something go because so many people are still in danger of being manipulated?  How do you do what is so difficult when the nightmares still plague you?  How do you say to anyone that the professionals tell you not to have anything to do with your family because they are so destructive?  How do you stop the destruction of a person, when you cannot get anyone to realize that everyone that has been impacted, ran away after they new it was a con?  How do you tell those people to stop hiding and being embarrassed their losses and to suck it up so that other people don't suffer the same?  How do you stop this train, when nobody ever stands against what harmed them? How do you show compassion for all of these same people when they are the people that caused you so much harm?  How do you explain who you are and that you are missing so much because you don't know love?  How do you tell your older sister to stop telling you she is so sorry you did not have a childhood, when you believe you did, it was just so different?  How do you tell your sister when she starts to tell you all that you are missing, that you don't feel at all bad about it because if you don't know your missing it, you don't know what you are missing.  So, it doesn't matter if I missing something, I don't know what it is.  Why does my life make people cry? Why can't I just stop the madness so nobody else gets hurt?  Why can't I do what I need to do? Why am I so incapable?  Why can't I get anyone's help to stop or look at anything that has happened?  Why does life deliver to you the gift of breath if while I am using this gift I cannot do anything for anyone but myself?  Why do we have flashbacks, if we can't understand what to do with them? Why do we survive, if when we do, we just are meant to go on like all of you?  How can we go on like all of you, if we are survivors of severe neglect, no love, abuse, rape and incest? If I don't have what you have to ground myself with, how is it that I am meant to be acceptable to you if what grounds me is unexplainable?  If you don't know love, then how is it you are meant to know anything else?  If it matters so much then why don't people take the time to show you what it is you are missing?  If I survived so that I could defend my life as an adult, then why would being loved even matter?  If it is so troublesome to listen to my story, then why do you want to always know about horror? Why is it that society doesn't thrive and prosper on the positive?  Why is it people look for the most tragic and horrible stories to report?  Why is is everybody tunes in to these and not to the healthy stories?  Why is it a problem I learned how to be from the brady bunch? Where are you meant to learn family values if they are taught like mine were?  Where do you turn for help, when help never came for you?  How do you do it all, when it all is robbed from you so you cannot do anything? How do you help anyone when nobody will admit there is a problem?

Pain Runs So Deep

Throughout my life I have been very quiet about the real horrors of my childhood.  My brother does not speak on it either.  I wrote a letter five years ago and my brother read it.  He burst into tears and ran outside of the apartment I had at the time.  After composing himself, he came back in and sat down across from me.  He said, "I had no idea that you remembered." 

We did not talk further on the subject.  It was very quick.  However, it testifies so clearly about the pain that runs so deep inside of us both.  I have already written one book.  I am going to be working on self-publishing this novel of poetic verse.  I wrote it so that I could express the pain in me. I wrote it in hopes that I can help women, men, girls and boys to not get over trauma, but to work through the trauma of molestation, incest, rape and neglect.  My book, An Independent Mind, Knot Logic, is the first of a series of books I would like to write.  As I become more comfortable with the pain of all that is inside of me, I hope to write in regular verse the stories of the past.  Through this venue I will heal the pain within my mind that has kept all of this so secretive. I will do this by helping others and speaking of cults, Churches and the pain of neglect.  I continue to try to believe that I can use all that I have been through to help other people to move through the trauma of cults, rape, incest, neglect and abuse.

Topped

I do not go where I don't know,

I cannot see what possesses me.

My mind is clear, my fate is near,

I can hear, Are you ready Dear?

I see you are in the stars,

I see you are in the bars,

I see you want a side of me.

Will you do right by Me?

Where can I tell, I cannot smell!

The worst part is this fucked Hotel.

Don't make me wait, I'll cause a lake.

I think I made my first mistake.

Delete! Don't take! Just hit, HIT back space.

It's not to late, I'm on the take.

Don't scream, don't move and don't say "boo"

You'll scare the ones that have the flu.

I don't care, they set a snare.

Behind you! It was a dare.

I took a shot, it just went POP.

Did you know, I'm not a cop?

No gun, no badge, I'm at the top,

I go to mop, I cannot talk.

I cannot stop, it's so fucked up,

I know its time to rough it up!!

K.A.P.

4/28/2009 

An Address To My Mother

I wrote this off the top of my head five years ago.  I have not edited it yet, so forgive me if it sounds rough.  It is actually two letters that I have put together.  This is the first thing that I ever wrote in accord to my upbringing.  I was so angry about the invasion of my life from my family, I felt beside myself.  I sat down and wrote the first letter and then I  wrote the second letter.  I did not send either one of them because of the fear I feel when I think on the subject of my childhood.  I read them recently and its interesting because it as if I am writing from another world.  Its funny how when you sit and free write, you express yourself in such an odd manner.

Remember I was brought up in a fundamental environment, with extremely strict rules on behavior, speech, posture, tone of voice and so on.  I could not even sneeze without being chastised for being to loud. Whenever they spoke it was always in code.  If you did not pick-up what was in between the lines of what they were communicating they would beat you. So you had to listen to what was not being said, rather than what was actually being said.

I wrote it on this blog back in 2008 I think, but today I feel brave enough to post it again.  I am hoping someday that I will not shake with fear.  Cults have such a power over the people, but the power over the off-spring is really never mentioned.  I have really bad flashbacks that are affecting me daily and causing things to happen that are very uncomfortable for me. I don't want to loose any time periods like I did when I was a kid.  I remember always checking the date to see how long I had been asleep at the wheel.  Sometimes it was years that I don't remember.  It began happening to me around eight years old I think. I always worry it will happen again and I will wake-up and be sixty, seventy or eighty, if that is the case I would rather never wake up again.  It is really to painful to be missing time.  So just in case this happens again I want my mother to know how I feel about her personally.

With that being said please know that this is written in the same mind frame that I write my poems.  It is just in a paragraph form.  I am not sure if this is a style of writing or not, but it is poetic verse to me. Titled as an address to my mother, I am not looking for a response from her I just wanted to express how I felt once and for all. 

So here it goes:

An Address to my Mother

I am the white flame of the fire, which burns the color of purity. I pay homage to the miracle of my creation. My development and freedom from hypocrisy has been celebrated and witnessed. I have played a slow, even tempo, which has been ideal for guiding, leading and revealing the path that I have followed for my life. My trust in the unknown has been rewarded to me, by becoming the known. I understand the Laws of the Divine. The gifts that have been bestowed upon me are priceless and without measure. My Key has been revealed, I have unlocked my door, I have found Forgiveness my lesson and I revel in the Peace of Understanding.

I forgive all your wrongdoings and intolerance; I am now impartial, impersonal, and detached from all of your emotions. I surrender and I am drawing to a close, your selfishness, ugliness and lack of compassion, which has been so offensive to me. The Divine plan requires me to have faith and live on higher ground. I will testify to the wisdom of Spiritual Law. I am now conscience of the needs of humankind. By choosing to live with a higher purpose, my talents will allow me to bring this together with completion and no allowance for interpretation. I am a living testimony; it does not matter what my adversaries have done to annihilate my very existence and survival. My anchor for self-preservation has transformed the horrid memories and visions of the tortuous, manipulative abuse of power and influence over unsuspecting lives, both known and unknown, into a positive reaction that evoked forgiveness, not resentment. My sensitivity, perception, and innate ability to listen to a Higher Guidance will ensure the integrity of the message remains intact. My vision of this message will be delivered with planning and the execution of a master swordsman. The principles, ideals and wisdom of this message will focus the minds, which choose to release their compulsions and evoke their eternal right for peace, understanding and opportunities for positive growth.

Creation welcomed me at my conception, a child of Joy and Sweetness, a delightful daughter, full of the most Natural and True abilities. I have kindled the flame that ignited within me. My unusual amount of self-understanding and the ability to see through the emotional and physical barrage of attacks, created as diversions, had no power or ability to hide, mask or erase the truth. I have had to be wise beyond my years, my honesty entitled me to have dominion over the world, which is filled with frightened, cowering, roaming lives. I have delved in to my childhood, I am no longer filled with terror. Anger is not needed to preserve myself from attack. My eyes received enlightenment, my ears perceived the truth, I have separated the entangled web of your deceit. I have found my bottom, my place, and it is clean, strong and ready to sustain the weight of the building, which shall be my life. I embrace my heritage; I found this etched on my soul. Creation has clothed me in substance, sustained me, blessed me and ensured that no man foul my purity. My mind dwells in anticipation of the delightful tickle of the wisdom, which I have been graced.

I have been protected by the very power that awakened you, to the joy of your re-birth. At your birth the gates flew open and you entered into a celebration that freed your conscious mind. Your relentless pursuit of those who failed to see your delight and awaken to your invitation, a gift that you would bestow, ended. This has delivered despair and agony to your door. You have only begun to realize that the brilliant enlightenment and uplifting satisfaction you desired has been the imagination of your life. You have walked amongst those which you despise and bear deceit for their beings. The beauty in your mind and body shall perish in blindness and despair.

You did not seek the knowledge of those that know. You did not listen to those that spoke the words. Nor, did you respect the Laws of the Land. Creation is our Mother; we are all invited to revel in the warmth and we to one another. Each and every one of us that has accepted her gift has received a pact of everlasting devotion. You did not heed Creation, instead you wrapped yourself in a cloak of self. Filled with secrets and with your unyielding loyalty to your deceiving warmth, you turned away from your Self and Natural Laws. Although you break the Laws of the Land, the Laws with an even tighter grip bind you. You have raised your right hand, given an oath, receiving all that which that oath has entitled. You swore mindlessness; you went out amongst the world and shouted your acclaim. You have discarded yourself and willingly choose Pleasure and Pain to exist. You choose your death with your oath and accepted life. You received and embraced enlightenment. You did this of your own accord, without cause for any other that yourself. You were not coerced, nor were you tricked, your ambition for desire, signed and sealed your Fate.

Creation filled me with the physical, mental and emotional instincts to ensure my self-preservation while under your watch. My Anger was aroused when you turned your Ambition on to me, with the oath as your guide; you brought a full on attack to my Heart, my Mind and my Soul. My Anger protected me from your relentless attempts to destroy that which Creation had been so kind to deliver to me. My recognition that my Anger had been aroused to protect me in an effort of self-preservation, allowed me to release my anger, let go of the very emotion that I held for so long and I held with a death grip. I am free of the terrors and no longer need to arouse the emotion that has had to be so diligent and readily available to call upon in my life.

However, the wrong cannot go without being addressed, even in defeat, Honor is dangerous but must be carried out, for this is the honorable thing to do. You choose a path to save Righteousness based on your Natural Instincts. You joined your Spiritual and Carnal Natures, watched while they merged with one another. You did this so that you would achieve greater enlightenment. To your Horror and in your self-deceit, with ambition as an instinct for self-preservation, you discovered that you, yourself, are only Carnal and you always were. You either had to hate yourself to death or revel and rejoice in exactly what you are. The feeble attempts you made to scourge yourself, were never more than reprieves you enjoyed while willingly accepting and recognizing the importance of sustaining faith in a lie. Then you had to rationalize sustaining faith in the truth. This is a primitive thought; this did not spur awareness into your mind, nor did this ignorant, pathetic process, which you willingly submitted yourself, bring, or add any substance to your being. Your faith in lies has diminished, the brilliant, blinding flame you once reveled in the glory of, it has lost its ability to breath and burns black with the impurities of mind and soul. The gradual decline, over the true test “Time” has enabled all who have protected my purity and innocence to reveal to me the understanding, wisdom, forgiveness and compassion in which to honor you.

Creation does not need an invention, audience, or court from mankind to invoke Natural Law, nor does she judge or punish by-proxy. This is not the time to spur “Hope” and “Prayer” for your redemption, these are simply indicative of the apprehension and fear inside yourself. Creation has based her judgment and therein punishment on the Action and Reaction of the choice’s you have made. There will be no Middle Ground found in this scenario, for middle ground is just another term you commonly here, called “FATE”. You have sealed your Fate with the action of your very instinct for self-preservation, your Ambition.

You have confessed to me your inabilities and sins against the Natural Laws of Motherhood. To clear your conscience and free yourself to break the laws and terrorize me yet again, you just continue the attack. You have committed wrongs and in this testimony of yours would mean that your genuine acknowledgement to me that you had made a mistake would have had to mean that you were truly sorry about what you had done. This would have taught you lessons along the way and you would have taken care not to do it again. Instead, you have not been honestly sorry about anything and acknowledged to yourself you would continue again and again to terrorize me. You had no business confessing and asking forgiveness in the first place. Your own lack of consistency in this matter has revealed your hidden agenda. Your scorn for my very existence and continued life has you consumed with animosity, which must be released on me from you daily. Your disguise of prayer or praying for me has only been nothing more than a bargain-basement anger that is decidedly shoddy and inferior in quality. Your own admission on a daily basis of you having to “pray for your enemies” provides total confirmation and true meaning to this ignorant backwards thought.

God is all-powerful and in turn all forgiving, your faith and belief that all transgressions here on earth will be forgiven, the Divine power of such a blessing lies in his hands not yours. Therefore you have reveled in your own iniquities, love of self and allegiance to your oath of enlightenment, with no regard. However, your belief that forgiveness will be at hand when you call, and the oath of contradiction blinded you with hypocritical self-deceit, this is why you have never achieved peace of mind. Every being or entity, good or evil has a job, you assumed in your ignorance that this loophole freed you and in reality it not only bound you but also consumed your very being. God is all-powerful and will forgive the transgressions of those that sin knowingly. However, you should have been aware of the power of Creation, herself, the Mother to us all. She employs the power to give us the strength to pull the heavens down and from the crumbling remains use their shards to build an idol or erect a monument to satisfy our own Divine indulgence, defining our true nobility for thought and action. To employ such abandoned power for strength and choice, she must balance the Core of Creation with the wisdom and freedom from the perception of right and wrong, good and evil applying to her actions and therefore the reaction, which brings an End to a Means. God being the creator of all; God recognized his compassion towards the weakness of man this would prove to be their own destruction, ending in extinction. Being Just and Fair, God employed Creation to ensure that his compassion was felt by mankind but did not stop the progression of Creation by accepting inadequacies that mankind created as a result of their own compulsions. God did not want to stand in the way of the Natural Extinction of an infested soul and mind that succumbed to Carnal Desire without regard or consequence to their actions. Your enlightenment to yourself and desires were fool hardy when measured against the All-Knowing, All-Powerful God of Heavens, Earth, all that has been and all that will be for eternity.

I am speaking in a 'Tongue' that requires no translation to be understood. I have not called upon the “Powers to Be” to invoke the protection or justification of the meaning and implications of this message. Creation herself delivered me to you, she encompassed my mind, heart, soul and my very being with spiritual gifts to make me highly sensitive to intuition and the extrasensory perception to know the world of higher guidance. My core has been filled and comforted since the day of my birth with the celestial beings she sent to care and protect me from the realities of life and all that would encompass my ability to deliver this message of Spiritual Law. She provided the balance needed to survive in this world of violence, negativity, materialism and personal gratification. Knowing the journey would be taxing emotionally, mentally, and physically, she instilled the fire and solemnized her gift by etching the design of the fuel onto my soul ,I must filter and fine-tune myself in order to remember my origin. By design, I elevated my consciousness toward living with a spiritual awareness. The heightened state of awareness made it very difficult to accept the surroundings of my youth. My pioneering spirit has driven me with absolute determination to find the truth. The journey has been a fine line between survival and self-destruction. The acceptance of my gifts for intuitive understanding and spiritual truths, delivered the ability to grow and find stability. I have learned to live with faith. My peace was made with myself and my gratitude will be everlasting.

Shame on you

(Second letter/Second attempt)

You are my mother, but from here on out I will call you out by any name of your own choosing. You are full to the brim of hypocritical self-deceit. Your conscience acknowledgement of your own self-proclaimed mastery of all that you have become is the epitome of an ignoramus. Your oath to yourself and gifts bestowed upon yourself are the actual design in the manifestation of death by-proxy and the inevitable extinction of your very being. Your everyday statement of announcing to me that I came from “Bad Genes” is in itself, your own proclamation from your own body, mind and soul. This is your cell structure, which you have spoken of all these years. “Out of the mouth confession is made”.

Your very core has insured, by-proxy, that your spirit, mind, soul and body of your own self gratification, ugliness, lack of compassion, materialism, ambition to elevate yourself at the spiritual and financial cost of any being available or not available to your beckoning, this will cease and desist. You are that which you have called others. Your cosmic phone has been cut off. You were billed and scoffed at the arrival of its price. This action has been an announcement to all; your ignorance in this matter is to be pitied. You have shown that pity is for the weak minded and those without moral conviction of spiritual law.

Your youth has been erased, happiness has become an illusion, pain is the only way you know and you are still here. The shell you are, is void of life, filled with emptiness, confused by imagination and not yet conscience that by your own design you created that which you abhor.

Your measurement of love, knowledge, understanding, wisdom and generosity has set the limits of that which is limitless, priceless and without measure. That which you embraced in yourself fouls you.

Shame on you!

The one’s you choose to “love” will deliver the greatest gift to you. In return for your training, dedication and living example of glorifying, “the one and only”, the debt that they owe you, will be paid with delightful, guiltless abandoned joy and freedom of will. This is all voluntary. They will not even have to divorce themselves from hypocritical self-deceit. The ones you have chosen to “measure” your “love”, and bestow that which you have accumulated through means of the unnamed. They will do exactly as they have been trained and charged in life, they will execute that which you have done.

Your success is their guide, their patience has been your measure, your ambition is their alarm clock, and the bell has begun to toll.

The respect that death invokes, the respect that would hold at bay the greed that waits, has bared witness to your impatience. Your robbery in this course of action has been noted; you have manipulated all, to receive inheritance’s that had rightful heirs. You have reveled in the design of greed under the pretense of ambition.

Shame on you!

Listen to these words, for the ones you have chosen to “love” will discount and dismiss my message.

There, in those voices, from the ones you found deserving to bestow yourself, that is the moment you will be smashed with undefiled wisdom. For now their indulgence will manifest itself to you, as their ambition will not be abstinent. You taught them well “Blessed are the powerful, they will be revered among the world, cursed are the feeble, old, sick, weak-minded, powerless, dying, for their time is measured and should be blotted out”.

You have paved the path; you will be at the very hand of those you indulged with life. By the means you taught them well, and they know death is the great abstinence. This in known to all as a “Dog eat dog”. Recognize their actions, intentions and words to you, for they are yours.

I will honor your memory by going out into the world and I will bare witness to all. “Love” has no measure, the more you willingly give, and the return for such a priceless gift shall be ten fold.

You have indulged and rejected abstinence with ingrates. These are the teachings of your past. But, you did not listen; it was indulgence, not compulsion. You are engulfed in the stagnant morass of yourself. The reverses that have beset you are no longer under your dominion and they will be unending from this time forth. Those you have chosen to measure your “love” no longer cherish you.

The pleasures you indulged will flow into anguish, as the fire in your marrow is rendered powerless. You are devoid of substance. Your ambition to marry Spiritual Nature with the Carnal Nature left you in a loveless marriage of an Ambitious Nature. Spiritual Law required you to divorce and to your horror, you were Carnal in the merge, always were, always will be. Do not fool yourself; your last days on earth are upon you. You have advertised and announced this message to the world. Your pride blinded you and your intellect did not reason, because the obvious was invisible. The gatherings I witnessed, as you blessed the Communion and Challis, filled with the Blood of the Lamb, this was your admission to your hidden agenda. This was an announcement of your half-truths. The Challis will be of any metal, but may not be gold. You praised that which you have become. You spoke “in tongue’s” praising his name. The pronunciation of your words sealed with your Hebrew lessons. The translation of such “tongue’s” you exalted did not belong to you, for that is sorcery. But you were not a Sorceress, only a mindless follower and you spoke in tongues that you memorized and full well new the translation, just as I do.

Shame on you!

May your days be full of that which you delivered unto others and with the power in which you convicted them. You have not abided by the Laws of the Land,

Spiritual Laws

Natural Laws

You are ruled and abide by the;

LAW OF THE JUNGLE.

Your lies and deceit built your throne. It will be assailed without pity, without regret, for under domination of a falsehood, no one can prosper. You enthroned a sanctified, privileged lie, a lie believed by everyone to be truth. That is the seed on the most dangerous delusion. A lie to be known as a half-truth, the lie that an intellectual person accepts as fact, the lie that has been inculcated upon me by you, this lie, your lie, is the most dangerous to contend against. Pestilence shall be your compulsion.

I, being of sound mind and body, I am now of the age of consent, accept the knowledge and wisdom bestowed upon my heart and soul. I release the anger, the anger that was an instinct for self-preservation against your relentless attacks. I forgive. I stand on the bedrock of this earth with true independence. Spiritual Law has risen in the midst of the web of entanglement that you spun as a disguise. I now name the one that shall not be named. He resides within you.

He silenced me as a child of joy and sweetness, a delightful daughter, full of natural and true abilities. Together “the named” and yourself have been Outed, Outed by the one you silenced with terror.

Shame on you!

I am free of hypocritical self-deceit. I embrace that which has been done to me and with the command of my Eternal Right, take dominion over diabolical indignation. With rationale, in the “eleventh hour”, sweeping aside pain, disappointment and resentment of the past. I restore Law & Order, Law of Harmony, Ministration and Peace. This is what shall reside here, from now until eternity. The double-edged sword which you have wheeled, no longer is yours to use but will remain as a symbol to you.

~

“The instinct for self-preservation is the driving force that is used for our own self-annihilation.This is the epitome of the double-edged sword."

The Begin

A Hymn

Rage is not so telling, to any particular age.

Mine began so gently, before the gift of sage.

So young to be so blessed, or is it cursed on thee?

My anger is so pointing, the facts I could not see.

Tortured and the keeping, a prison was I in.

My sheriff was so bluntly, the bearer of all sin.

Confusion did not stop me, the English language spoke.

Screamed in Hallelujahs’ and I just did not know.

No translation given, all their arms thrown-up.

Believers in the driven, was the Church, shut-up!

I was younger after, no one wore the glove.

Married to a second, I was beat there-of.

Name a cult that’s active? One that shames us both.

Do not stand in traffic, there is no excuse it’s classic.

Years and years of doing, to stay clean of their shove.

I do some denying, it hurts me so to love.

There is not end to pleading, I am not a son.

Only do I know this, for I’m the daughter, RUN!!

Clearly we are bizarrely, left in Satan’s Lair.

I am not so saintly, Demons would declare!!!

Stay out of celestial battles, between God and More.

Don’t take sides announcing, whom is right or sore.

You are incorrect as beings, to sight in only horns.

For it is in the means, that sets you on the mourn.

Religions tell your order, but you are second in.

For battles of the Heavens, sing a brand new hymn.

Remember who was kicked out, a story that’s about.

You are not to be with, when 666 shall tout.

My belief and structure, is mapping of oneself.

Not to cause destruction, but to simply sell myself.

An idea of difference, uncalculated by lies.

I am just a sayer, in honor when I die.

For facts that have been twisted, hidden in disguise.

There half-truths from the wicked, in the midst of all the sty’s.

For in death there is honor, the threat so still is there.

My half-sister declares, “blow your head off for fair.”

This does kill our story, should you kneel to ill.

Repute is what it utters, when I fail to Will.

Fuel for souls and others, pours from wells of whim.

Many seem to fail, the orders given him.

You should not question, command is in the hands,

of voices in the letters, written from the Lairs.

Belted in our wonder, illusion will not last.

Mythology does its bidding, while reality is its trash.

December 21st, 2012 is made.

Even I do think, an Incan did not think.

Years ago was rote, learned from toe to toe.

In the scrolls that did last, telling of the show.

Zealots did the burning, pointing fingers so.

Know one left to carry, blood lines of the know.

Discovery is blatant, television plays.

With no redemption present, they watch the counting stays.

The calendar is famous, extinction of its days.

I did try to make one, with purchases that I’ve made.

The printing company solicited, didst laugh at my attempt.

To develop income, to pay my monthly rent.

San Francisco Originals, a website from a friend.

Made from scratch and simple, lives just hit send.

Society still does turn, from History of the the Old.

Telling of the burning, of very ancient scrolls.

Assumptions they were evil, made the best ones cry.

Stood with Godly visions, removing you and I.

Who did die so long ago, leaving wisdom wry.

How do human people, decide the fate of guy?

Creation is developed, by whom is not your lie.

She didst envelope, the trusting of the sigh.

Singular in written verse, its not for us to buy.

For sales are so final, when decisions are not sly.

To those of us not choosing, to insult the same.

We do not have to listen, to the screaming of the pain.

Imagine not a world, where nine becomes ordained.

Not to be in harness, or forced to be what’s vain.

Stories are our promise, language we do loose.

Translations of the writings, dost we cannot do.

On the date I mentioned, the Earth will wobble too.

Feared by all prevention, sought by all the blue.

Magic is so real, put aside your shock.

For horror and terror doth mention, it is not a flop.

Do you not remember, a birth before this place?

Are you stuck with family, that just seems to take and take?

From anyone or anywhere, to survive this heavy curse.

For in this Hell we travel, while making up our verse.

Memories are so often, held in blank repose.

As the chisel livens, our hammers always know.

What we read is special, from travels I don’t show.

Bubbles of the living, please don’t run and go.

You are unique for thriving, on all this falsehood; Stow.

Your stories are so personal, the worst ones I do know.

Do not let them tell you, anyone speaking sear.

For they often say, you’re not the most fouled out here.

Individual proof of plain, is not competitive in.

The safety and protection, of truth and not our sin.

I hate the words that plunder, from mouths of all of them.

That say that therapy happens, so trench your feelings in.

They cast our thoughts to mention, nothing of our walks.

Towing only prevention, saying, “please even don’t talk.”

Spouting choice is only, ours to never make.

Drop and turn they push upon, our sight to look and take.

What is depth of rotten? That sits inside of me.

Power on as Christian. This so worries me.

Prayer is not my semblance, of what releases me.

Again entrenched in blood loss, “of what??”, I know the cost.

Heavy was the payment, to just accept a loss.

Why display such indifference, to girls in shallow plots.

I am not your carriage, of years you spoke of yoke.

Wrapped around your own mind, it worked so please don’t choke.

Allowing me the same line, only angers you.

Interesting and different, very sad to view.

Let alone be free of, or not my freedom sought.

I am over help now, but others I do trot.

To speak upon the subjects, so readily at hand.

I balance all my learning, by only what I am.

Do not judge the journey, another believes there at.

Those are not your footsteps, to see where we did sat.

Taking breaks becoming, where your words are at.

Saying, “I must tell you,” never holding back.

Why must you entangle, all that you are; go splat!

It is painful for us, to simply tell you that.

Reverse is not a gear, history proves this year.

Twin souls, dreaming, hearts! Is only what you fear.

Never shutting off, you dribble and won’t stop.

Opinions of yourself, while all we do is talk.

I do not share well, for depths is my designing.
And course is my repair, for all that has a tear.

On and on I song, my friend is still out there.

He sings of nothing healing, he’s final in despair.

A match is not the making, for distant will stand fair.

He and I are taking, our chances in the dare.

It’s not all the raping, my youth doth be so raw.

I only speak with random, reversal of what I saw.

My words are charged with visions, my mind is in record.

Of all the terror and prisons, I stood in Death Court there.

The docket, it was full, of hypo-critical beings.

My number did not call me, I had no other means.

My mother, she did work on, all that does displease.

It’s just my job to finish, stop robbing all that need.

Mortal man may question, divinity inside.

I am not the seeker. I throw the judge aside.

Only spot for driven, uncomfortable and true.

Is for the ones of living, the rot. Is it in You?

Do you stop and question? Do you not let loose?

Innocence and wisdom, the freedom of that we choose.

Experience with action, memories not corrupted.

With flashbacks that have photo’d, all that has erupted.

Are you so loose with tongues, that cannot shut the door.

Driven from apartments or views that will abhore.

Payed for by indifference, jealousy and more.

Do not do your bidding, for guilt I do adore.

Fault is in my past, from birth the open sore.

Embarrassment in life’s attempt to shield me from more.

I hear the words of men, Jean Baptiste I met.

In happenstance and favor, this sign I did so get.

Dismissed without the ‘morrow, discernment was my prize.

This man was still and gentle, much to my surprise.

He asked not of my falsehoods, he didn’t have to cry.

He simply just spoke the words, that fault could not be nigh.

Witness not to more, in my car I drove.

Passengers to ferry, lunch to them accord.

The one man I did listen, the woman I did not.

For it seemed a decision, my brain it needed; sought.

Appreciate the moments, intellectuals will talk.

I do love these times, they never seem, there taught.

Hurried we did go, released from the tow.

Of heavy burdens laid upon, the girl that so feels low.

Thank you to the Incans, grateful for the years.

For standing with the truth, and not being men that loot.

My dear old friend at distance, repair I cannot make.

My heart, my soul, resistance, to another mate.

I travel worlds of interest. A malignancy I’m not.

Writing books of feeling, to help and not to plot.

Undoing what I can, for I am not a man.

My strength is not my training, it’s just a CD plan.

Laughter is so easy, when pain is hidden in bogs.

Of all that are still after, my life and not my cogs.

Telling stories blindly, to such a person known.
A recent vision frightened, to base what will still tighten.

I spoke of what I saw, leaving me to laws.

Of eviction notice, with no one to take solace.

Escaping to a new home, I felt the set did shone.

The brightness of decisions, to leave the family throne.

Oddness in the time frame, it’s not for me to tell.

For I do know the truth, I seem to where it well.

A shorter path to difference, I sicken not myself.

I sell out not another, for numbers showing wealth.

Forgiveness is a lesson, not for me to share.

Personal transgressions, belongs to those that dare.

To speak on behalf of treason, it’s powerful display.

I call upon the season, to release me from this stay.

I wish for another, only pain I see.

For it is my mother, with threats of ridding me.

She claims my residence, A Street will be my fence.

I still will not pretend, to do her bidding hence.

I’d rather stand with principle, An Independent Mind.

Knot Logic is the difference, between my friend and I .

Karen A. Placek

5/17/2011