looking back over another successful week of alienating some while endearing others, i have more than my usual fare to be thankful for. i can only attribute the influx of positivity to making clear choices about unhealthy relationships and practicing the art of laying low. while i have been attempting to contact my mother on an almost daily basis, apparently to her chagrin, my father has left messages for me that i haven't found the capacity to return. the love triangle continues to scathe my psyche despite the twenty years they've been divorced and the seven years since i've laid eyes on him. it had been five months since i'd spoken to him when i called on father's day. fuck hallmark.
the best news of this week is that my step-mother, well "ex" step-mother, got custody of my brother. for those not in the know, i will briefly catch you up. just over a year ago my step-mother left my father. just under a year ago she came out of the closet and moved in with her lover. in january i helped them get custody of my sister, but my brother chose to live with my father. this has been a concern to me ever since. after only a few months, my intelligent, black, texan brother in all of his 16 years of despite-being-raised-pentecostal-wisdom realized he would be better off to leave his friends behind on the coast and start over near austin with sabrina, d'anne & hannah. i am eternally proud of him. and wish our dad didn't owe him almost a grand. but i suppose it could be worse - it could be twelve grand.
the next concern on my list of "why didn't i press charges and let him die in prison years ago?" is the fact that my father has been hired by some company, in new jersey of all places, who hire nationwide for mall santas, and the only requirement is that you grow a beard! said company then pays to ship you across state lines and house you while you play santa for six weeks, in a town where you know noone and then disappear never to be seen again. really? this seems so blatantly stereotypical that i have to assume i was right about why joshua has never dared near a santa of any sort. it epitomizes the holiday obsession i grew up with and terrorizes my hope for the future as i imagine hundreds of children lined up to sit on my daddy's lap.
on a positive note i have two leads on venues where i can eradicate havoc with restoration and creation. with various levels of work offered, i look forward to exploring a host of modalities that assist the body in releasing blockages, increasing flexibility and accessing pleasure zones and life principles that will revolutionize your bliss. i have spent many hours this week studying old notebooks and reading new material, exploring deeper levels of ecstatic healing than i had previously thought possible. not only are sessions proving to release chronic pain, but are accessing new portals of energy in areas which were pain free. until a public space is available, i am making house calls. i am also applying for certification as a sex educator and studying to enhance my path as a sacred bodyworker by adding the skills of a dakini or tantrika. the forties are about hot shoes, top shelf booze, rockin' blues and doing whatever the fuck you choose. so saith the white trash goddess.
and yes, hater, i do believe i am a goddess.
i even believe your sorry ass is a goddess, too.
and his beautiful, sane wife whom you so lovingly refer to.
she's a goddess of fear for little people like you.
bless you, boo.
and your little heart, too.
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