Diamonds Rising Up Out the Dust

I heard this today, and it gave me goosebumps.  Not only did I enjoy the energy of the duo that make up JohnnySwim combined with the wonderfully talented and cool as hell Daryl and band...but the lyrics...they connected with me in this optimistic, hopeful, overwhelming STRENGTH.  It reminded me of what M and I are madly working towards together.  We're rising up out of the dust with the diamonds that we pour ourselves into...his stories.  And we do it with drive, determination, pleasure, and a ferocious loyalty and faith.  My badass rose up and danced in celebration and joy.

A long, long time ago in a land far, far away...I was in the English class that would fundamentally alter my universe.  Every week we had an essay, except for one assignment which was given two weeks - a science analogy.  It was the essay I floundered on.  For 13 out of the 14 days I tried to make whatever my analogy had been to work, and it was sheer crap-o-la.  Then finally at the last minute, I found my words and my voice and used the formation of diamonds as an analogy to writing.

"Diamonds" touched me on so many different levels, so I thank JohnnySwim for their amazing songwriting ability and performance.  I became an instant fan as I watched the performance.
~Kat

Another Voice Fades

My heart mourns. Another of the old guard has faded from the fight.  Her battle changed us individually and influenced cities, states, countries, the world.  With grace, poise, and fire she used her words as a weapon.  She defended what was right.  She fought for honor.  She attacked ignorance and prejudice.

Maya Angelou's On the Pulse of Morning

We must not let her brilliant and powerful words fade in the wind.  We must carry on her war with the myriad of profound weapons she has left us and honor all that she has taught, shared, and inspired in us.

May you rest peacefully by the Rock, the River, the Tree, Ms. Angelou.  May you rest in peace.
~K.

Dear NYC

Dear New York City ~

Good evening. I won't waste your time or mine. After all, you do like to cut to the chase. I'm writing to respectfully and humbly ask for a chance to stand under your awe-inspiring shadow. I realize that you are pretty much the Queen, and that no one reigns bigger, better, or more demanding than you, but still, I dare to test my soul within your complicated maze. If I fail miserably so be it. All I want is a chance.

No...I don't seek fame. I don't seek to be a star or the richest bitch shopping on 5th Avenue. I hope to play in Central Park with M not live next to it. I leave those dreams for others. Mine simply aren't grandiose. They never have been. I merely crave a chance to build a life with my M. A chance to help and stand next to Him as he reaches for His dreams. A chance to find and build a place for myself in this world in your presence. A chance to succeed. 

Will you grant me that? Will you accept me enough to give me those opportunities?

I know compared to all those brilliant, radiant gems that dance on your stages and litter your streets that I'm not much. But I have a loyal pure heart that can put damn near everyone to shame. I've lost so fucking much but I'm a survivor, a strong persistent bitch. I'm a fighter. And at times I even kickass. But most of all, I don't give up. I will bleed out for what I believe in, and I fucking believe in Him. In Us.

Since my first steps on your rumbling pavement, I've been told I belong, and every time I return I feel more and more like I've found home and where I was meant to thrive. But you have yet to grant me entrance. My hands are battered and bruised from pounding on your gate. What must I do? What must I say? If I need to prove my worth, tell me the damn task! I will take it on and prove to you that I deserve a small tiny corner of your time and space.

I can't lie. You do intimidate me, but I've never let fear stand in my way of reaching for love, and I love that Man more than anyone or anything. He gave me hope. He offered me my destiny, but I need your favor if I am truly ever to fulfill my place at His side. Will you give me a chance?

If I'm destine to fail miserably, then let me fail. I will tuck my crushed tail between my legs and crawl back to this quiet sleepy town and let my hope die. But I deserve a chance for happiness. M and I deserve an opportunity to be everything we could be and help you shine just a little bit brighter for our efforts.

So what do you say Lady NYC? Are you willing to take a chance on me? I promise you, anyone brave enough to spend time with me has never regretted having me in their lives. They merely regretted that my time with them wasn't longer. Give me a chance to add flavor, color, and depth to your soul in a way few can match. I promise. You won't be sorry.

Sincerely,
~K.

My Inner Badass

New name.  New look.  Yes...I am attempting to find my feet right now, which requires me to shift with the moving ground under my feet.  "New Chapters" while it represents my change it does not reflect my soul, and quite frankly after the last year my soul is a little battered, beaten, and bruised.  I'm considerably pissed off about those injuries.

I am in...transition for the next phase of my life.  I am no longer content with the "happy struggle" as M put it so succinctly.  No.  I want progress.  I want strength.  I want dedication, intention, and focus.  I want more than what I've had the last 40 fucking years of my life.  I don't want to be at the end of anyone's god damn list.  I won't ever again be content with anyone's crumbs tossed carelessly my way. After everything I've given, I deserve better.  I deserve it fucking all.

Where do I stand to get whatever the fuck "ALL" is?  Where will I find my strength?  Where will I find those who not only give lip service to believing in me but action as well.  The simple fact is: You get out of me what you put in.

A friend of mine messaged this image to me over the weekend.  Because of my various situations, I've had to tuck my badass away for a while now.  But more and more I've felt the urge to kick fucking ass rising inside me, so maybe it's time to give my inner badass a bit more breathing room.

Does Badass mean I'm a bitch?  It can. And sometimes I will be.  But sometimes being a badass will simply mean flying higher, faster, or more beautiful that those around me.  Sometimes being the baddest bitch on the block will mean I fight for the underdog.  And sometimes my inner badass will silently recede to the background and stand watch protectively as the softer, sweeter pieces of me show themselves.  I am so much more than any one blog or post can say.  I am more than most people will ever fucking see or understand.
~Kat

When the Love Runs Out

When there was FINALLY a break in the weather, I tore out of the house to get to the docks and find an escape.  I was quite frankly ready to scream.

This came on the radio, and oh how fucking good it felt to have that sweet Bose cranked and the windows down to this.  ~sweet angry bliss~



Enjoy.
~K.

Dear Youngstown

Dear Youngstown,

You’ve seen me at some of my best.
You’ve seen me at my very worst.

You tested my strength in ways nothing ever had.
You forced me to redefine myself. 
 To see my value and my flaws.
You broke down all my padding.
Stripped me of my disbeliefs, my naiveté, and my foolish pride.

In your arms, I lost everything I held dear.

But discovered pieces of myself I had never known existed.

I stayed true to myself.

Despite the temptations you offered. 

And the weightiest of pressures you heaped.

On my exhausted wounded frame. 

You tested my strength, courage, and wisdom.

I never marred your already heavily scarred and abused soul.
I never added to your misery.
I never destroyed for my own benefit.

I never failed here. 

No one ever does. 

I never thrived either. 

No one ever does. 

You never broke me.

I survived.
I survived your battlefields. 

And your illusions.

And your lies.

Yes...at times, your cruelty swallowed me whole.

And at times you were simply breathtaking in your simple pleasures.

I basked in your curiosities.

Danced naked under your sky with your Indian spirits.

And held my breath through your heart-pounding adventures.

Stood in silent harmony as flames licked the sky.

You are truly a complicated bitch, Youngstown. 

Your brash boldness amuses me.
It flashes with an audacity that no other place in the world can mimic.
It made me giggle when I first arrived.

Now I just shake my head at what is too often pointless circus antics and drama. 

I learned the hard way of your empty twisted promises.
That those who shown brightest were all too often the filthiest you had to offer.

Those charmers with hallow hearts.

Those painted actresses with razor smiles.

Those crumbling pillars of the community and leaders of industry.

They are your most vicious mirage. 

Your shiny gems were always your ugliest secrets, your most corrupt sores, your most vile traps.
But I did eventually learn to recognize and defend myself from your wicked games. 

Yet beneath it all there is a side of you that is magnificent.

It's your unassuming quiet strength that refuses to give up or give in that I admire most.

I found strength in your tenacity to keep existing and to breathe one more breath.

It was much like my own.

I appreciate the chaos and ugliness you put me through.
I understand my limits.

Those are lessons I will never forget.

I regret that I’ve never truly found my place within your complexities.
As always in some ways I fit perfectly. 

In others I had no place at all.
However, that may very well be a good thing.

I leave as I arrived.

On the outside of your mysterious inner circle. 

I was never quite one of yours.

I was too much and too little.

Too classy and too earthy.

Too honest and too loyal.

Too soft and too open.

Too bold and too defiant.

And I was never as broken as I needed to be.

To become tainted and accepted.

I understand that all now too.

I no longer love you blindly.

But I do still very much love you.
I always will. 

You are a part of me.

I’m harder and softer than I when I arrived. 

I am stronger and more broken as well.
I’m more at peace with who I am yet more frustrated with the world. 

But most of all I am eternally grateful for the peace I found in the tiny corner you hide from the masses.

I am neither sad nor happy to part ways.
Nor am I indifferent.

It is complicated.

I’m not abandoning.
I simply no longer have any thing to offer you.
And you have refused to offer me a chance to succeed.

Fate has changed the long road I am on.

And I must walk around this blind curve.

My goal is to reach for more.
I’m no longer content with your miserable scraps.
I deserve better. 
I always have.

I deserve peace, hope, and happiness.

One day.

If I am lucky.

I want to bring back and give to you.

A little of what I gained in your arms.

And maybe.

Just maybe.

Heal a tiny corner of your soul.

Until my journey brings me back to you...

Always,

~K. 

Permission to Be Happy

I had a thought last night, and lo' and behold something popped up this morning that has me returning to tug fully at that string.

I feel guilty if I feel any happiness right now.

Yep.  I essentially feel like because my practical life is such a damn mess at this point that I don't have a right to be happy.  I'm leaning on others way to much for my liking.  I can't seem to find a way to get my ass to NYC to be with my Man.  My friends miss me.  My ex is pissed at me.  My kids never see me.

And after all the nasty shit that was thrown at me last summer...some of it is still stuck to the walls of my soul.  Countless times, I heard how I didn't have a right to be happy and that instead of reaching for stars I should simply suck it up and quit being childish.   <~That was bullshit of course, but after hearing it so many damn times, I panicked when I lost that chaotic dead-end job, which was actually a blessing of course, but part of me has been terrified since that I'd be persecuted again.  I no longer fear that emotional punishment, but I still need to wash that last of that shit from my heart and mind.

No matter WHAT my circumstances are...

• I have every damn right to grab onto any moments of happiness and even joy that happen to fly by me.  
• If I honor my loyalties and respect the help others are providing, I have every right to smile and laugh.
• If I continue to work hard, invest in my future, and chase every opportunity I spy, I am allowed to guiltlessly embrace the sunny, sweet warmth of love, peace, hope, and happiness.

~sigh~  

Maybe now that I've given myself permission for all of that, I can be even more productive, more centered, and simply be a better me.

Anyone that doesn't like that...well, kindly go fuck yourself.  Everyone else...come dance with me.  ;-P

~K.

Clearing the Haze

Today has kinda sucked.  Started off with bad dreams and a damn skunk.  The skunk wasn't a dream.

Augh.

While I kept fighting back in every way I could think of, the day really never got better.  In fact with the fading light just more dumb shit.  Yeah today kicked my ass a little.  It wasn't the worst ass kicking, but damn, I could never get shit going and staying in the right direction.

Lessons/reminders for the day:

• Trust my instincts.  I should have asked a better question.
• If you know people are assholes, don't take it personally.
• I have nothing at all to hide.  I never really did.
• Coping strategies that work well for me:  a walk, music, Godiva Chocolate, and cake from M.

Doing my best to let go of what's been today to embrace a calmer, saner, more pleasant now.  Peace.  Hope.  Happiness.  That's what I've always reached for in my life.  To be at harmony with those around me and my little corner of the universe.  Every day I get a little closer to those goals.  Maybe today could only be gauged in inches, but I'll never turn my back away from progress.

Now it's time to eat the big piece of cake M sent me.
~K.

Another Day.

I am fucking strong.  I will fight.  I will strike.  I will find a way through this.
I seek clarity in the hazy fog of the unknown.
I simply need a focused mission, and I will tear down walls and bleed out for the cause.

Point me in the right direction.  I will be there.
Show me where the battle will be fought.  I will plan.
Give me an enemy to strike.  I will destroy.

I am a vicious warrior.
A cunning strategist.
Though I am nothing when I'm blinded and my hands are tied.

I don't quit the field.
Unless my superiors give up and throw in the towel.
And hand the victory to another.

I've lost more times than I can count.
Layered in scars and mud.
I still rise from the ashes of the burning fields.

To fight another day.
And another.
~K.

Battles Lines Unknown

A warrior's reflexes snap into action.  A ghost? A game? No matter.  Instincts ready to strike and destroy.  My need to fight rages to be free, yet there's nothing in front of me to engage.  I pace my perimeter in solitary reflection.  Unsated violence vibrates beneath my skin.

Anger and frustration burn.

I hear hounds barking, but I can not fight the intangibles of life.  I must simply survive as always.  Give me an enemy I can defend against, a cause I can fight for.  Not unwavering elements that wear at the soul.  Not bad dreams and unexplainables.

Adrenaline floods my veins even as I'm told to stand down and put down my armor and weapons.  I cut myself on my own blade even as I try not to strike out.  Do I even have what it takes to survive any more?  Do I even know how to defend myself?  Do I know how to fight for those I love?

Confusion muddies a warrior's trained and expert responses.  Who I am?  Where is her place?  What is her purpose?  Are her instincts so very twisted that she can no longer see where enemies truly lie in wait? Where is the battleground I must defend?

I doubt myself and my nature as I hold a hungry blade in my bloody palm.
~K.

Maybe it's because...

Nope.  I don't like me like this either.  Cold.  Emotions at a distance.  Protective.  Ready to cut and slice.  I don't know how I got here.  Maybe it was just the soft sides going to sleep for a little while after so long struggling to find any room to breathe as we climbed down Everest.  Maybe the hard side hasn't had a chance to run.  Maybe it's the upcoming unknown unorganized transition.  Maybe it's the dumb shit I can't explain.  Maybe it's my past and demons and the similarities.  Maybe it's just that I want to be held so damn tight so I don't potentially fall on my fucking face and splinter into a million pieces.  Maybe I smoke too much.  Maybe I resent the fuck outta the fact that my peace was ripped from me so thoroughly there's little chance to ever regain it and feel like it's home.  Maybe it's that in a way I really have no home right now.  Maybe it's  the knowledge that if there are lies, I've already lost.  Maybe I just need to kick someone's fucking ass.  Maybe it's that I'm not use to winning, succeeding, making it, becoming more.  Maybe I'm afraid I could fail one more damn time and truly find myself with nothing but broken dreams and scraps of shattered hopes. Maybe it's hormones or pre-menopause. Maybe I'm a little lost because the big push is over, and the slow less stressful push leaves me a little lost and aimless.  Maybe I just want to be wanted with a viciousness that borders on criminal.  Maybe I'm just sick to fucking death of stupid bitches being in my space.  Maybe it's that I'm not eating right.  Maybe I just miss being the one turned to.  Maybe I wonder if I'm being left behind.  Maybe I'm just jealous of fun stuff they get while I'm stuck in work and no play.  Maybe I need fucked long and hard repeatedly until exhaustion takes me.  Maybe I'm sick of stalkers and takers.  Maybe I'm insecure as fuck.  Maybe I'm just a violent, nasty, pissed off bitch that wants to rage at the world.  Maybe I just flat out miss having some place, space, chance to be a little girl, a slut, and woman.  Maybe I just need sunshine and Spring.  Maybe I miss my Mustang.  Maybe I hold too much value in being claimed absolutely and without question in every way possible in an age when everyone does there best not to be responsible or be vulnerable or be accountable.  Maybe I just need out of these four walls.  Maybe I need a big huge fire to rage like an inferno at my feet.  Maybe I ache from hoping too much.  Maybe I'm afraid of wanting too much outta this life.  Maybe I just need to fly and crash to the Earth.  Maybe I'm scared as fuck that I don't know what the fuck I'm doing or what, where, when, how the next few weeks are going to go.  Maybe I just want to make sense of a crazy world.  Maybe it's just that the music isn't fucking loud enough.

Maybe I just needed to write.
~K.

My goodreads Review for Benders

Benders by Mark Eric
My rating: 4 of 5 stars

The first time I read Benders I couldn't stop smiling. Monty and Mieko charmed me immediately with their banter. I loved their story and adventure. Mieko also ROCKS as she's a woman I can absolutely relate to! Throughout the story...I cried. I laughed. I even growled a time or two. I held my breath and raced through pages. Benders will always have a place in my heart. It was a fun and enjoyable read with thrills, action, drama, and friendships we all crave. I look VERY forward to Mark Eric's next novel and a long career of storytelling.

View all my reviews

Today Was Not The Day I Wanted

There was FINALLY a break in the damn weather today.  It was beautiful.  I knew it was coming, and I desperately wanted to enjoy it. However that was not the day I had today.  A horrible night of no sleep led to a sluggish morning and a list of shit to do before 5:00 p.m.  I managed to get a few of them done, but being physically completely out of synch has left me a tad frustrated.

I feel like the second I got back to the Yo, everything became difficult and nothing has gone smoothly, which only adds to my growing unease and confusion about next steps.  I'm not upset...but I am annoyed and frustrated.

I don't want much outta life.  I don't and never have had expectations of mansions and the high-life.  I simply want to be functional with a strong sense of harmony.  I want a day-to-day life with M.

Yet, we haven't yet found a way to make that 400 mile jump.  Why?  How is it that we can't find an answer.  It doesn't seem to be that hard for everyone else.  I look at my sister and her family as well as my step-brother and sisters...they've found a way to make it all work.  Maybe not gracefully and definitely not without some struggles and hardships along the way.  But they found a way to build a life, and while I've learned so much in the last nine years, I have yet build (in a practical sense) a damn thing.

Yeah...yeah...I can trace a lot of my inadequate building blocks on about three life-defining poor-choice decisions, but fuck...those have GOT to be overcomeable. <~yeah, word creation there.)  For the last six months, I have been busting my ass (M has as well) to turn over every damn option We/I have.  I'm not sure I've ever worked so hard or so well trying to get somewhere...though we still haven't gotten there yet.

He said it best when he stated "We've burned the ships." We have to find a way to make this work, and I'm optimistic, but I'm still just wondering...why the fuck does it have to be so motherfucking hard just to survive today?

~sigh~ I see how so many things in the last year had to happen.  I understand why, but fuck it's been ugly.  Yes, the ships are nothing more than ashes on the shore being leached away by the unwavering tide.  I've long since gotten past mourning their fiery destruction, but I just wish like hell I had a map for this unknown place that's in front of me. ~sigh~
~K.

Last Words...Maybe They'll Find Wings

Maybe this isn't something that even hits your radar. Maybe it's so far moved from your reality that it doesn't make a difference. But I encourage you to take a few minutes just to read and yes...maybe even find empathy because the fact is...justice and fairness is not as common as you may believe. It's long, but his words give a perspective too rarely heard. 

A Letter From Ray Jasper, Who Is About to Be Executed

To Breathe

For the first time in what seems like forever, I had a few minutes to breathe, and that's just what I did. I didn't work, think, plan, worry, strategize, ponder, dream, stress...

I just fucking breathed.

Deep.

Long.

In blessed, lost nothingness.

It was just my body, my breath, and the rumbling yet gentle music that enveloped me. (Damn, I do so love the MoS soundtrack.)

It's been too long since I've taken the time to feed my soul.  Sacrifices...other things have taken priority. But those simple things...they help fuel our passions, hopes, and dreams.  I need to remember that.  I'm better when I feed my soul.

Now it's time to get back at it...lol

~K.

People See What They Want to See

One of the truest things in life is that people will see only what they want to see.  That point was blatantly proven last night when I was accused of demeaning my family in a Facebook post because I used the phrase "Republican rhetoric soundbites" to describe one of the diverse posts in my feed.  I was first accused of being unbalanced since I didn't mention any liberal posts, which I honestly didn't have.  Then I was accused of telling people to stay silent and name calling. ~sigh~

At that point I realized there was no reasoning with Mr. Blind whiteboy republican.

However, the lesson was once again driven home, and I once again made the connection to what my M and my Black male friends must face every day.  People will see only what the want to see and not necessarily the truth.  Too many will see the warm, intelligent, witty man I love as a threat and an enemy.

With the recent trials in Florida, those men that took the lives of unarmed Black teenagers saw what their hate and racism wanted them to see—dangerous Black thugs.  There's no logic to prove that illogical belief, simply false stereotypes and fear.  And the little lesson I learned last night reinforced what M has told me time and time again, that there is no changing the minds of those consumed with hate, ignorance, and fear.  They don't want to see the truth.  Therefore they will never find the truth.  Unfortunately, until our country's justice system truly starts to punish these men for their false beliefs, there is nothing on Earth that is going to stem the rising tide of the innocent blood of Black boys and Men that is staining our ground.

Understanding truth is always one of my primary goals no matter what the subject and something I firmly believe can only make us strong.  But in this case, I find it cold comfort and simply search my mind for a way to protect the Man I love from being the next victim of racial slaughter.
~K.

A New Beginning

Many, many years ago, I use to write/blog. I tackled whatever was on my mind that day, that hour, that moment.  I processed my pain, I dreamed little dreams, I ranted and raved, and I laughed at the funny amusing shit in my head.

Then I stopped.

Too many people were stalking my posts to twist my words into ways to punish and condemn me.  I broke my life into pieces and stuffed them in different shoeboxes, even hiding some away, in order to protect myself and others from drama, chaos, and idiots.

Now it's years later, and while I have more stalkers than ever before, I no longer give a fuck, and those I have around me are strong and fierce as hell.

I can only be me.  ~shrug~
~K.