It's Funny. Life. Thirty Years. All This Experience. To Get To : Here.

It makes sense. Every lesson. Every Decision.
Every Action.

I've lived. I've known a lot of people that have not. Many that have killed them selves, in one way or the other.

I value life. I all ways have. I struggled, from the beginning, to survive it.

It's Insulting. People. What They Think. How They Judge. But, I know, I Know Why.
I was around for all of it.

I began studying Psychology when I was a child. Reading. Reading was all ways my escape.

Before Writing.

I read better than most people. Great novels in literature that most have yet to thumb through.

And,
I was ten.

Eight.
Seven.

I wanted to understand people. I had met so many! Between my mother and my step father and my grand parents and all the people they knew ~ there were all ways people.

I was quiet. Perceptive. A wonderful listener and observer. It was unquestionable that Psychology was in my future.

Text Books. Libraries. I was addicted. There was no internet. No computer. I had to sneak to use the phone. But, encyclopedias... I was all ways friends with those.

I absorbed knowledge. I wanted to understand how, and why, people did all the fucked up things I saw them do. Drugs. A lot of drugs. It took me years before I was ever brave enough to test you.

I watched the down fall. The way people just gave up on each other. The way they gave up on their self. How they'd rather just sit there, saying negative things, rather than do something positive and pattern-changing. It was easy. To stay the same. And, it was nurtured, through the use of television.

I stood back. Cautious.

Food.
We have all ways had an interesting relationship. There were years where we were starving. My Sister. My Lovely Little Sister. I'd find her crouched under the table, like a mouse, with a stick of butter. Eating It. Whole. Bite By Bite, because she was starving. I saw the lack of food in our fridge and cupboards. That was before there were food stamps and before I started making money and shopping.

There were these neighbors. They were fat. Very Very Fat. They actually were quite far down the street. Where the run down places actually became houses. They had kids. A lot of them. And, the house was a mess. Mess is an understatement. It Was Atrocious. Now, there are shows. Television Shows. "Hoarders." They would've been : Hoarders. Clothes. Dirty Clothes. Every Where. Mountains. Bigger than I. We'd go there. My siblings and I. I'd Clean. I started to cook. Very Very Slowly. It was the only place we ate. That, and, GrandMa's...

Six.
I was Six.

We lived in Sonoma.

Mondays

Today I officially begin applying for jobs in Eureka. It's been a year and a half year since I last hunted. Got the first and only job I applied for. Lasted three days. Corporate. They wanted me for management. They all ways do. Quit the job before that just over two years ago. Everyone says, "Good Luck." Everyone always tells me to think twice before I decide to stop showing up. But I always find another. Money. Job. We are what we seek.

I'm Not.

Last night I watched as my two cats scaled the highest point of this house. It goes so high, so steep, I was frightened. Telling them to be careful from my window so much lower. Sliding... They're fine. Every Time. If you were there before you can get there again; I'm sure.

But I don't.

I think of all the money I've made. Some days up to $400 and $500; regularly. I think of the people I've helped and supported. I used to volunteer. Served two years in AmeriCorps. Blah Blah Blah. And what do I have to show for it? Cats. Two Cats. Isis & Osiris.

And they were acquired. How much I've invested in things and people to create this concept of a stable life I always lusted for. I think today about the past, again, and how in so many ways I was disadvantaged. I survived. That's what people don't realize. I even succeeded. But it was false. I wasn't happy. I didn't go to sleep feeling rewarded. It wasn't real. So, I let it fall. Piece by Piece. Until the whole thing came a part and all I was left with was my self. With no more glamour or pre-conceived success it was the ultimate test for all people. Could you see me? Could you accept me? Could you handle your self when there was no more distraction or illusion to which you'd become comfortable? Most wont. Handle themselves. They'll just explode with the slightest impact or exposure. And then it's all out. Every card on the table. Instantly. It's that simple.

I'm tired of people. When did we forget that we're all individuals? Last I checked I knew but do you?
Apparently Not.

Apparently Not.

I think of the last person who fought to be my legal guardian. Sudie Pollock. A well-established land owner. Published Author. Millionaire. She sold me her trashed Volvo for a dollar. You know.. the one I still drive around. The one I've lived in and worked out of. I had to work; to pay for my self. Luckily it was a restaurant so I ate well. School was my first priority because all ways I'd known it was my only ticket out.

It wasn't.

I think of every one I know that still has help. Or support. I have one person. Ericka Apple. I love that girl so much.

My sister, three years younger, used to harass me so much. She hated when I'd wake her up. Every morning. It was still dark. Michael didn't care. Her father. We just wouldn't go to school and for him that wasn't a problem. Bus came an entire hour early but we all ways made it. Dark. She hated me. Just wanted to sleep. Said so many things...

I miss her a lot.

People Suck. As a group we're fucked. Pecking Orders. Competition. Let's Just Fuck. Who cares about love? Acceptance? Individuality? As a group... No one. We're corrupt.

So I stand a lone.
Meagan Ishtar.