Bukowski

I have a lot in common with Bukowski. As do many others. And that was why his writing became so popular. Like me, I could relate to his life. We have many differences as well. Who knows, after all, it was only about an hour long interview. So, how much can I really compare. He doesn’t like people. He liked a solitary existence and he liked to drink beer. He said his childhood was a hell.

A big difference between him and I was; he wrote. And he worked. I worked here and there, but he was more successful at keeping a job than I was. He would write about his experiences. I couldn’t do that. Until I finally did. Also, he said his only concern was for himself. I have been entirely too co-dependent in my life to make such a statement.

And he always wrote in first person. He didn’t write for “success”. He wrote to stay alive. (check)

He drank a lot. It looked like his choice was beer. (check)

I no longer drink beer. I quit at thirty one. I walked through the doors of AA. When I came in, it was different. A different time a different world and I loved it. It’s had its rocky moments. But I overcame them all. – Then the judges started sending in all their D.U. I. people. And in the early nineties, people began to substitute psychotropics for their inventories.

Now I have tremendous conflict in meetings. I have fat boys, that don’t like what I say. Good Lord they need to look in the mirror and while they are at it, they should record the stupid shit that they are saying.

I was all well and good with the conflict. I have always heeded to the last paragraph on page 19. Respect everyone’s share. Then started the attacks. I have been verbally attacked in the past, but this was a barrage. I believe it a result of ageism and the new hate for old timers, in general. They look at me with my grey hair and choose me as prey. They have no idea.

For example: One guy looks like Homer Simpson. He says that only the first eighty eight pages, in the Big Book count. He is disparaging of women’s shares. He wanted to buy a 5000 square foot house. And he wonders why he can’t get along with his wife. He was in meetings for 14 years and never worked a step. Now he has and he is on fire for everyone to be like him. FMR — One meeting, I was sharing my experience, of my first sponsor being Buddhist. He screamed at me, “This has nothing to do with Buddhism.” blahblahblah – The other fat boy is just fat and he thinks he’s good looking. He cut me off. He didn’t want to hear what I had to say. He thinks he is interesting.

My thoughts behind this is – What would it have been like if Bukowski came to a meeting.

WOW

I am so inspired by his words. Because I know they are true. But in a meeting he would be a challenge. It might be a better option for some people to just stay home and write.

Who needs fake authenticity.

Hush

Hush

 

I have a ghost She sings me lullabies I am her child.

I am underwater Her voice filtered By particles of oxygen.

With her I can breath I can harmonize I am her mother

Express Yourself

Here I am again. Who cares? I do.

I have been doing a lot of writing off line. My daughter’s passing away. My conflict with family. My internal struggles have been too much to put out there. So, I write on paper. And I write in my Pages App. Cancer is Personal. My Family is a Cluster F*CK

I encourage anyone and everyone to write. It is medicine for your soul. No one is going to care about your being more than yourself.

EXPRESS YOURSELF

Sober Sunday

Sunday Morning Coming Down

Take away the alcohol. Take away the dirty clothes. Take away the loneliness.

And yet, my life is still fragmented; shards of money, property and family. I live in different worlds. The one in my head, the one in my heart and then the moments of time that occur, which are suppose to be the best. Problemless. Carefree breaths of time.

Is Bethlehem still there? How are the Palestinians and the Israelis doing?

Here on Amelia psychotropics rule. Cancer is atmospheric and the beach is disappearing. ( for me anyway )

Continue reading Sober Sunday

Family History

Ancestors Ancestors and more Ancestors

Mary Frances Lowe Peterson was my great – grandmother. She lived on Blair Road, on the family farm. She was born and raised on the families land tract. She was there, when my mother woke up, as a five year old, smelling smoke and hearing a crackling noise. She alerted the family, saving their lives. A night they never forgot! They lost everything, but themselves. The little, curly haired cherub, became an instant hero. Mary also lived with my Grandmother, Elizabeth Peterson McInarnay, on Phyllis St. The family had built a house there, following the farm house burning to the ground.

They rebuilt the farm house.

Continue reading Family History

5-25-2020

What part of normal is worth rushing back to?

All of my photos. All, of the waves, I’ve ridden. The numerous adventures that I have been on. They seem distant and unreal.

But right now, I have more important things to do.

I am huddled up and hunkered down, with my daughter and my husband. We are on an adventure of sorts. All time, is a happening. Moments and events to be remembered.

From past experiences, I know, that what I want to return to, is no longer there. Dreams are eroded, repeatedly. But that has never stopped me from creating more.

When your glass castle, becomes concrete. Sit on it. It will soon turn to illusion.

Put a Flower on it –

I’m sitting on my couch, my daughter laying sixty feet away, suffering with cancer. I have chosen to not write about this, in the past, because it’s too personal, too overwhelming and there has been too much conflict.

I came home from Costa Rica, February 18, 2019, on an emergency ticket. I went straight to the hospital and proceeded to fall apart. Little by little, I have pieced myself back together, as I sit on the sidelines and watch her CANCER process, played out with the doctors, my sister and her father.

I disagree with everything they do.

I’m about living, not dying.

It’s all quite complicated.

Cancer is personal.

Flower or no flower.

Appreciation Dinner

Last night I attended a dinner, for the owners and members, of my Crossfit box – 32034.  The food was good, everyone looked great. Beaming faces, with bright eyes, long lashes and big smiles, were on every body present. I felt honored to be a part of.

Luke and Erin Riddell are the owners and coaches of a new box on Amelia Island.

After we ate and socialized, they got up and gave a talk about what their Crossfit Box meant to them. Yes, it’s about health and fitness, but it’s also about community and being a better person.

In their prayers, they had asked for thirty members. And as stewards they would assist the members to be able to go out and be lights in the community.

The evening had a feeling of warmth, and a nurturing family.

I needed that.

Jesus loves me, and they love me.

Crossfit 32034!