My determination is everything of an outside world...to society. Yet inside it still remains 'useful' but with a few misleading happenings. I tell myself some things are my everything like 'music, Final Fantasy X' and my heart is still prancing around with an uppermost euphoria...lol. It can't stop beating for him, I have a connection to him sill so potent and I love the feeling. It seems as if this feeling is perpetual..almost like I'm in another world...resistance to love this strong is futile...You can't stop something that you truly feel.
Because in the highest depth of my heart, regardless of words going through my brain stating...music, Final Fantasy X...etc is my everything. My heart is not correlating with my mind, thus a deep love is displayed. It is displayed by my everyday actions as my 'yet so mysterious side' does things secretly related to this feeling. It is hard to explain, that is just apart of my soul almost connected to him.
Our walk across the river was so much fun; we laughed and splashed … actually the water felt good after a minute or two of getting used to it. As I recall, it was almost to my knees and about up to your crotch, my little elementary school side-kick. It didn’t take long for us to walk across to the other side and neither of us stepped in a deep dark hole or tripped on anything. Just up the road we noticed a pickup truck near the dam site, so we continued walking and looking until we found a fellow working there. He didn’t seem all that surprised to see us and he laughed at our little story of driving over the mountain pass pushing rocks and small boulders out of our way. We asked about the river crossing and he assured us that driving across the river wouldn’t be a problem; in fact he said he had just driven it himself a few days earlier and the crossing was fine.
You and I kept joking on the walk back to the truck, imagining the man (I’ve forgotten his name) thinking to himself… “I’m sure glad my wife would never just take off like that with one of my kids.” Back at the truck we climbed inside all wet and soggy in the only clothes we had with us. I started it up, put it in four wheel drive just for luck and let it slowly roll down the embankment into the water. “Hey Sweetie, we know how to cross rivers, don’t we? We’ve done it lots of times.” Drive slow and steady; don’t stop and don’t panic and speed up and drown out the engine. Another piece of cake, we got across without a hitch. By then it was almost five pm and the sun was starting to get low in the sky. We drove up the river bank through long dark shadows of old cottonwood trees that looked familiar. We passed weatherbeaten picnic tables and campsites that seem so lonely and abandoned in the off season.
I was relieved to be safely on the north side of the river, having had a brief shaky thought about what if we had to drive back up the mountain pass; hopefully not stopping anywhere to remove more rocks and debris; maybe getting lucky enough to leave the scary part well behind us before dark. It’s not that I don’t think of these things beforehand, I guess I just trust my own instincts to get us home eventually.
Now we were driving on paved roads again, supposedly within an easy drive to the interstate that runs between Phoenix and Flagstaff. Well, we might have been a little further from the interstate than I thought… it was dark out when we finally found our way to the nearest onramp after a winding road trip through several different scenic valleys that seemed to go on forever. Oh finally, the interstate…
Do you remember? As soon as we turned on the main highway we ran out of gas! We’d used up the left hand tank and when the truck sputtered and started to die I couldn’t get the mechanical change over turned to the other tank fast enough to keep the truck running. By then we were both exhausted. I had to pull off on the shoulder to get the truck going again, it wasn’t picking up gas from the right-hand tank. “Silly truck, you’re not out of gas anymore!” Both of us kept begging it to start. You said something like, “Mom, are we ever going to go home?” My little daughter’s had a busy day, more than enough for one adventure. You’re still such a good sport, you helped me push the truck for a few minutes until it finally began coasting downhill. Then we both jumped in just as it picked up speed. So there we were, cruising down the shoulder of the interstate with big trucks and fast cars passing us, swoosh-swoosh. It only took a few minutes until our truck came back to life again and off we went.
By the time we get to Phoenix … that song played on the radio twice on the way home… I’m so glad you love the old songs, too. When we finally pulled into the driveway it was well past ten pm. Gosh, did we ever have some explaining to do. Too bad there aren’t any pictures of our adventure for the family album, Veronica. I guess that trip was just a special day you and I fondly remember together.
Update for my GP fam.(Notes in blog for Jen, Libs, Chris, Sammi, & LJ)
Friday, March 19, 2010 (07:10:07)
Where to begin?
Its been a really long few weeks filled with screams, tears, pain, and a shattered heart.
I guess its safe to say I picked up all the peices and peiced me back together, but the cracks are deep and still bleeding, and havnt scabbed over quite yet. That might take a while. I still bleed for Michael. Still want him badly, BUT everytime I think about calling or emailing Im able to brush it aside with a bit of effort. Ive heard from him once since I saw him in febuary. I cant believe its been a month already. It feels like its only been a week.
The days pass, slow...but they pass, and Im begnning to feel a semblence of normalacy again. I realize more each day he doesnt call that he just doesnt care. And while its so hard...theres nothing I can do. What could me calling him possibly do but hurt me more? My answer is obvious. Absolutely nothing. He promised he would never abandon me, no matter what happened between us...well what has he done? I have no choice but to chalk it up to another lie from another man. Is honesty so hard? Not on my end. So why is it so difficult for most men?
I've wanted to reach out to him. Ask if he cares and why hes doing this to me. Why did he promise things that he would never keep? I reach for the mouse to send an email and stop myself each time. What am I doing? Am I a glutton for punishment? If he doesnt care I cant make him. And groveling just looks desperate and needy and Im not that woman anymore. Im NOT the woman he turned me into anymore.
Im changed. Maybe not all in a good way. But im not the same person I was a month ago. To be honest...I don't recognize ME, but I realize ive never really been ME before. Who I am or what ive become has always been shadowed by a man, or a person and now I have no shadows...only what I want to be and my dreams. So I guess I wouldnt recognize myself anyway. Ive done things I regret recently to try and get over him. Sleeping around to feel an echo of what you once THOUGHT you had isnt the answer. It only makes the emptiness and lonliness worse. Rebounds are unhealthy, so Im not even gonna go there. I've had to realize being with a man isnt all its cracked up to be. Sex is great, and hell yeah its fun....but how long can you keep up meeting new people and having sex with them? It gets old really fast. I want a relationship with ONE man. ONE sex partner to last my lifetime. But I also know Im not ready for that yet. Too much pain I as a person have to heal from before I can even try.
What am I saying? I dont really know. I guess im trying to say Im healing. I havnt called him, and Im still here, and im making it...somehow. My world isnt black and all gloom and doom anymore, its turned into shades of grey. I can SEE things again. Friends, family, small things that bring weak smiles. But hey...at least its a smile. I've made friends and Ive lost friends in this season of my life. One that promised hed be there as a friend no matter what too...but alas.... hes gone too. Havnt heard frm him in god knows how long and realized last week that I probably wont ever hear from him again...even if were friends on GP. I have to take the good with the bad, and smile even when Im sad. Because life still goes on. Im still here and situations change all the time. People change, so do emotions. I cant be sad forever. Its impossible. So I hold tight to that. I look foward to making new friends and new memories with the ones I have. I will love the ones that have stuck with me, and forgive the ones that left. I dont want to harbor bitterness to anyone. No matter whats gone on in my life bitterness is vile. And creates only more pain, and pain is something I have enough of.
Im not claiming Im perfect. Im not. Ive done things and said things to people I could have said and handled differently. Im not saying Im an easy person to deal with all the time. I know Im not. But that makes the friends who stick it out with me that much more important to me.
Jenna....I love you to death! You have been blunt and honest with me each time ive needed it, and have told me whats up even when I didnt want to hear it. You are kick ass and I cant wait to chill with you someday. You are exactly the kind of friend I cherish and hold dear. You are not afraid to stand up and say what needs to be said even if someone else wont. That is the reason I love you. I know I can always count on you. Thank you for being there for me even when you are so busy. I really appreciate it.
Chris.. I know I dont know you that well and we've only recently started talking but I have to thank you for making me laugh. You have helped so much and probably dont even know it. Your sense of humor and craziness has made a heartbroken sarcastic little tart like me smile numerous times in the past few weeks...and laughter is healing...so thank you. I hope that we will become close friends in time.
Sammi... I know I dont know you that well either, but you've opened up to me a little, and you are such a smart young woman. You have such a realistic and positive outlook on life at such a young age despite all you go through and even though you are younger than me I have to say you have made an impact on me. You are a breath of fresh air among reeking filth that most humankind has become. People like you are the reson I can keep going and smile again. Dont change. You are amazing and screw any guy who cant see how beautiful you really are. The one you love? He doesnt realize what hes passing up. You have got to be the most intellegent fifteen year old I have ever met!
LJ... Im so glad weve gotten to speak a little bit and im amazed at how much we have in common. I want to thank you for talking with me. And being there. Im here for you as well and I think you rock! I love you! I hope we will become close.
Libby.... I LOVE YOU!!! You always make me laugh and GP wouldnt be GP without you!!! I wanted to let you know that you have helped my healing process along quite a bit with all your craziness and sexuality. Lol. Im happy to have had the opportunity to interact and communicate with you!
If ive missed anyone im sorry. I love all my GP fam and I dont think I could have made it as far as I have this fast without yall. For all your comments and all your mesages thank you so much. You have made this heartache im dealing with so much easier to bear.
Heres to all my friends..new, old, and the ones I will make. You guys make this crazy and sometimes excruciatingly painful thing called life worth living. I love yall!!!! And thank you!
I've been pondering on the idea of perfection and since I've started pondering, I came to the conclusion that only an upper force, a higher power being God is the only idea of perfection.
First of all, I think of perfection as a beautiful idea from a higher force because humans ethically become more inclined. They learn the idea of treating others without a doubt...love is still to be learned, but the idea of this power can help people unite. Make it a uniting nation...as that love, will suddenly bring upon hope the hope before love is to become thorough, that the idea will remain...
If a higher force prevails...if it enters into our thought process which we may need to know about, then what is it that we don't need? Well, that answer is obvious. Hate..to rid the hate, we must listen to our instincts, our intuitions if they are positive...
When it comes to the idea of perfection, I believe that it is impossible unless it comes from the HIGHEST force because the highest force - highest power is everything. His beauty goes for infinity...and if something doesn't go on for infinity, then how can something be perfect?? Because if you think about it, one thing may be great to an opinion but not capture all of the positivity because the force isn't great enough, thus it can improve.
Positivity is everything within God, not just opinions and positivity is captured, and is part of infinity..it goes on forever. The power the light of it is never thrown away. We need love and the idea of enforcing it to the highest strength. If we let the beauty run through our blood streams, great things will happen...
Things like material objects are nothing because in the eyes of 'opinion' greater things overlap. Then greater things of the eyes of 'opinion' overlap them...so perfection is never brought upon these objects made by man...God the highest force can never under weigh the power of man made objects whom the inventors are not perfect themselves, so his idea of perfection and the reality of it is infinite. It goes on for eternity time wise and idea wise..
This is what I truly believe .I feel this within the inner core of my soul....
I long to know how people think perfection can be...It seems illogical to me.
Unless it is a spiritual being of the highest force of positive things...and the idea of positivity itself which is perfection...all positive things strung together...God is everything positive...
I dont know what this blog will be about. I had a good blog idea the other day while I was cleaning... but I forgot it
Its 2240 here and Ive been watching old episodes of Reba. Germans dont even know the show exists... most of them dont know she exists.
I love the show. I crack up.... swear to God I almost pissed my pants during the episode where Brock is seeing a Dr. because he is having sleeping problems and the night time video shows that his wife was beating the crap out of him while he was sleeping.. LMAO Just thinking about it makes me crack up. I wonder if thats a bad thing... me finding it HILARIOUS that a man gets beat up by his wife while they are asleep.....
Im sure men laughed too.
Acually I just thought of something funny.
I tend to get these moments. Like really ditsy..... and I end up hurting the man Im with. I really dont do it on purpose and I am sorry but I crack up to the point where I cant breath anymore.
Examples? SURE!!!
Ok one time. I was like 16 I think. I was laying in bed with Matt and was trying to open this bag of gummie bears. Lets just the say gummies werent ready to die a slow painful death...so I asked him to open the bag for me and as I did that, I was handing it over to him over my shoulder. Well, handing was more like me throwing it back and the bag hit him right in the face. So he yells OUCH and I turn around to apologize and what happens... I knee him in the ... yeah, you know where.
After that I wanted to kiss him and somehow managed to poke him in the eye. Yepp... when I get ditsy... I get dangerous. It was hilarious though. He ended up getting as far away from me on the bed as possible. Which I understand. I would have done the same.
Lets see..... ooh the knee thing.. happend with Steven too. I was trying to turn around. We were laying in a german twin size bed. Not alot of room. Anyways, Jenna turns around to face him and BAM... blue balls for real.
You know that hasnt happend to me in YEARS.
Now something I DID NOT do but got the blame for.... I was sleeping in bed with David... a king size bed.. lots of room. I was like on the edge of my side because it was hot and I was like all up in the fans face so to say.
David was on his side of the bed and we were both sleeping.
All of a sudden I hear BAM and OUCH... I wake up, turn my head to David just to see he was no longer laying on the bed. The idiot fell out of a king size bed.... I saw his head stick up from behind the bed like a puppy tryin to get food off a plate... he looked around like WTF and crawled back on the bed. The next morning he didnt remember anything. He had this huge scratch on his arm from when he fell. His arm scraped along the nightstand and acually tore off skin (not a pretty sight) and he asked me what happend. I told him what I saw and then he made a joke saying that I pushed him out of bed. We both knew he was joking. As I was telling my friends (who were also neighbors whos bed was merely seperated by our bed by a wall) what happend (Jamie said she heard when he fell out of bed LMAO) David was all like "Yeah Jenna pushed me out of bed... look at my arm!" and he told that to everyone.... Had alot of laughs but to this day I have no idea who understood that is was a joke and who didnt. *Oh look there goes the woman who tries to kill her hubby via pushing him out of bed*
Shut up Marie. You werent there at the time.
** who do you think did the neighbors hear screaming when you and David were
hey hey hey shut it crazy
** just sayin
Ok.. where was I?
Oh yeah...I swear I didnt push him out of bed. I wasnt even close to him. He just sleeps weird. I mean come on... I had a elbow in the eye two nights in a row because of this guy.
Uuuh Do any of you talk in your sleep????
Have you ever listened to someone else talk in their sleep?
OMG ITS GREAT!!!
David used to say the funniest things in his sleep. Josh is talking in his sleep too..... oh boy.
One time I was talking i n my sleep. I didnt know I did that.
I was still dating Matt. Im guessing I was 18 or 19.
So its like 9 in the morning and Matt is asking me if I remember anything from the night before. I told him yeah I wasnt drinking duh.
He goes "no you were talking in your sleep"
I called bullshit but I knew he wasnt lying.
Turned out I was asking him what movie he was watching like 10 times til he finally said ITS A CARTOON and I got the message. Shortly after that I asked him if I had cleaned the stairwell and when he said I didnt I tried to get up to clean it while telling him that the neighbors would be mad because I didnt do it. It wasnt even our turn to clean. He told me that and I was like wow... I had no idea. Who the hell tries to clean in their sleep?? Apparently I do. Jeez am I a weirdo or what?
Since Im remembering this funny stuff heres a fart story. It wasnt me.. it was my ex.
I was laying in bed reading ( I had sleeping problems then too) and I hear him let out a fart... Man, I could have sworn the man shit himself.
So I tried to wake him up..... a challenge btw. Here I am yelling his name at 4 in the morning for all the wrong reasons. I slapped him on his side and that finally did the trick. He gave me his eeh look and asked whats wrong and I yelled at him "dude go to bathroom I think you shit yourself!"
(Ok im so crackin up right now)
He gets up, goes to bathroom (turned out he had to pee. Might as well since he was there ) and comes back to bed. He didnt shit himself (Im not sure if that would have been funny... I think it would have been though) and he didnt remember anything the next morning.
But damn.. I really thought he shit himself. LMAO
Yeah uumm... so how many nerds with big boobs do ya know that talks about farts????? LMAO
Boy am I bored!!!!
Looks like I found something to write about after all.
And I think Ill leave at that for now.
Oh no wait. i got one more.. about my sister.
This was a few months ago. We took my friends cat Macie because she had to deploy. When Macie first got here my cat Precious wasnt too happy. They were fighting alot and one of the cats was starting to piss certain places. My sisters bed included. So one day Im sitting on my sisters bed and I smell cat piss. I tell her its the pillow. She gets all mad and says
"damn cat pissin all over my bed. The other morning I woke up in a puddle and thought I peed myself while I was asleep until I realized it was cat pee!"
Ok do you get why this is so funny.. besides that macie pissed in her bed.
My sis is going to be 21 this year and she acually thought that SHE pissed herself.... LMAO.. How sad is that? So I was laughing at her and she tells me its not funny that the cat pissed on her bed and there i was trying to explain to her that her thinking she was capable of pissing herself and even worse, not noticing it was the reason I wasnt able to catch my breath.
haha... I love laughing. Some parts of my life would be great for a tv show.
Like the time my stepdad got my mom this christmas present... he told her that it would make her cry when she saw it. So its time to unwrap the gifts (which in germany is done christmas eve for those who didnt know ) and he tells my mom to sit down and close her eyes. He gets the present and holds it right under her nose. She opens her eyes and there it is.... the present that would make her cry... AN ONION!!!!! LMAO.. it was awesome. We all knew about it and my mom was like wtf and cracked up. He got her something else though. But that wsa funny.
Oh and then there was the time... this was christmas like Idk 6 yrs ago. My dad was still in the Army and stationed in Wiesbaden. My stepmom was standing by the window laughing at all the people trying to drive on the icy roads... So there is Mayte in her white nicki outfit (not sure what its called in english) and she says something not christian like. So my dad tells her to watch her language and holds the lighter to her ass...... Do you know where this is heading?
Oh yeah... Mayte has a flame going down her legs, between her legs and on her ass. Before she realizes whats going on my dad is putting the fire out and my sis and I are bursting out in laughter. That year Mayte got the nickname Flaming Angel.....
Speakng of fire. Something like that happend to me once. I was at home with some friends. Patrick was sitting on my bed and Chris ( I called him teddy) was standing in front of me and we were talking. He takes the lighter and is flickin it with his finger (ok that sounds .. yeah whatever) and all of a sudden my wool jacket is on fire. I didnt even notice it because it happend so fast. All I saw was teddy slapping my breast with a panicked look on his face and then I saw a flame and was like WOAH!
Teddy did a good job. Fire was out fast and Patrick damn near pissed himself because he was laughing so hard.
Ok Im done going down memorylane in humorville for now.
Oh boy was that a good rant though. I havent laughed like that about my life in forever!!!
I say its your turn now! Any funny stories you would share with me?
Kieran froze in horror as the skinhead turned back and directly addressed him. His companions looked at him with utter despair and despondency and then found an alternative place to gaze as Kieran looked to the burly, shaven headed man to answer for his comment,
‘Was that directed at me?’ the skinhead continued, his face contorted to a curiously curious frown.
Kieran’s heart thumped hard in his chest. He hadn’t meant the man to hear what he'd said. He had made the comment to impress Alice, not spark a confrontation he probably couldn’t win.
‘Sorry’, he began to say, but found that apologies were not going to cut it.
‘Never mind ‘sorry’. That was a pretty bold statement to make about someone you don’t even know’, the skinhead chastised of him.
The skinhead came up close to the foursome as they stood on the narrow pathway, next to the busy road on the sloping hill that lead from the university to the city centre. It was possibly the only place in a ten mile radius that was not overran by surveillance cameras. It was the least advantageous place imaginable to have any type of conflict, Kieran knew.
Anything could happen.
‘What makes you think I’m a fascist?’ the skinhead asked.
Kieran wanted to answer, but found that words failed him. Don, his friend and fellow student, came to his aid.
‘He didn’t mean it mate- he just gets carried away sometimes’.
Don’s well spoken accent did not suit the colloquialisms of the area, but Kieran gave him kudos for trying.
The skinhead turned to the long haired youth.
‘No offence, but your mate should speak for himself. He wasn’t afraid to speak a minute ago when he wanted to impress you all’
Kieran was shaking from head to toe. The skinhead noted this and spoke to appease him.
‘Don’t worry. I’m not gonna hit you. I’m not the violent type. I only want to hear you qualify the statement you made’
The skinhead stood back a step and held his arms out at his sides to show that he meant no harm to any of them.
Kieran looked at the six foot two inch muscular frame, from booted feet, beyond the turned up jeans, to the heavy torso that was covered in a t-shirt that had a Trojan helmet printed upon it- and finally to the red braces that were clipped from his jeans and pulled tightly across his shoulders.
‘Why did you call me a fascist?’ the elder man asked.
Kieran felt marginally assured that he was not about to meet violent retribution for his unwise comment, but still stuttered his words,
‘B…because you’re a skinhead’, he said weakly.
The skinhead looked to the pavement and grinned.
‘So you think that being a skinhead is synonymous to being a fascist?’
Kieran nodded slowly,
‘Yes’
Don, his girlfriend Sam and Alice looked from the floor to the skinhead now. They were curious to where this would lead.
‘Do you know any skinheads?’ the skinhead asked.
All four shook their heads and spoke in jarred unison,
‘No’
The skinhead put his hands in his jean pockets and shrugged,
‘Do you know anything about skinhead culture?’
‘I’ve read about them in sociology’, Alice said quietly in reply.
The skinhead grimaced in a show of angst and spoke with gusto,
‘I can imagine what that told you. Let me guess- white, working class, prone to nationalist tendencies and general thuggery- I’m paraphrasing of course’
Alice laughed along with the skinhead at his evaluation of her learning.
‘Yeah- that pretty much sums it up’, she agreed.
Kieran frowned disapprovingly at Alice. He was more than a little bit perturbed at the friendly rapport. He perceived a hint of attraction to her body language and spoke to distract her from it.
‘You must admit that many skinheads fit that description’, he said to the man.
This assertion was met by another frown and shrug,
‘If you say so mate, but I contend the opposite to be true. Some of the latter day skinheads tried to fit a media stereotype that was created by middle class journalists- the original Skins listened to Jamaican music and were generally apolitical, but were a threat to the establishment. Hence there was a lot of bad press’
‘I find it hard to believe that the press could contrive such a thing. It definitely has it’s foundations in truth’, Kieran stated flatly with a somewhat arrogant shake of his head.
The skinhead smiled and shook his head slowly. He was becoming agitated.
‘Listen up man- you really don’t know what you’re talking about and you’re lucky I’m a reasonable bloke. Do you always make sweeping value judgements about people you pass in the street? Or only when you think they can’t hear you?’
Kieran felt the fear return; overriding his resentment,
‘No- I was obviously wrong about you and I said I was sorry’, he said defensively.
‘And I said I didn’t want an apology- I said I wanted to hear you qualify your statement. I’ve not threatened you or bad mouthed you, but I’m still waiting. All you can give me is something you read in a red top tabloid- or worse- a sociology book!’
The skinhead winked at Alice to show that he was speaking in jest when he mentioned the subject she was studying. Sam spoke now, to add her input to the matter,
‘Wasn’t there an increase in nationalist skinheads during the 80’s?’ she asked and then explained,
‘My Dad was a CND activist at the time- I’ve heard him mention skinheads before’
The skinheads eyes widened with delight,
‘At last! Someone who knows something!’
He moved a step closer the group as all five moved to allow some other students to pass the narrow pathway. Once the distraction had passed the skinhead spoke again,
‘The 80’s were a tremulous time for everybody and yes, there were more nationalist skinheads then than at any other time. The thing is though- what is almost always overlooked, and aside from the media portrayal of skinheads, is that racism and fascism were on the increase across society as a whole back then. This, in turn, created an increase in opposing ideologies such as Marxism, communism and anarchism. If you look back through any period of recession you will see this pattern repeating. Xenophobia fuelled through economic rivalry and other forms of tribalism rear their ugly heads throughout the working classes. The usual knock on effect is that middle class politicians use this to try to attain power by promising the discontent masses unparalleled social change. That’s how Adolf Hitler came to power and why the National Front gained a following. Like Hitler and the brown shirts, the national front used the skinhead stereotype to intimidate any and all opposition and of course this was followed like any fashion, but, like all fashions, it was thankfully short lived’
Kieran was dismayed to note that all three of his friends were nodding in agreement with the skinhead. He had initially been content that they humouring him through fear, but he could see now that they were genuinely interested in having this conversation.
‘But if it means people will call you a fascist because of this then why don’t you dress differently?’ Kieran asked with scarce restraint.
The skinhead looked Kieran up and down making him self-conscious about his unkempt attire.
‘If people believed that all students were dope smoking, lazy layabouts would you adapt your dress sense to avoid similar discrimination?’
Don, Sam and Alice laughed at the ironic observation as he addressed Kieran,
‘Besides, which- the only person calling me a fascist is you- are you suggesting I go home and change so I don’t offend you?’ he asked with a wry expression to his face.
His friends laughed at his expense and Kieran wished he had the courage to punch his tormentor.
‘No- not at all. I only meant that skinheads, per se, have had so much bad press that it must be easier to opt out’, Kieran said, his face flushed with a mix of emotions.
The skinhead considered this,
‘Perhaps I could become a glue sniffing, jobless punk rocker, or a pill popping, granny mugging chav instead?’ he suggested sardonically and then pointed to Kieran,
‘Perhaps you could be a pimp or a drug dealer and finally get rid of that student tag?’
It was the first reference that the skinhead had made about Kieran’s skin colour and the fact of it infuriated him,
‘Are you saying that cos I’m black?’
The skinhead smiled,
‘You’d love that wouldn’t you mate? An excuse to justify your prejudiced opinions. No- I was being sarcastic about media imagery- as if you didn’t know’
Kieran was incensed to react,
‘I think you are a fascist after all and you used my comment as an excuse to verbally abuse me’
The skinhead looked shocked and laughed, before speaking more aggressively than at any time before.
‘Are you for fucking real son? I’ve been an anti-fascist activist since the 80’s, some of the people closest to me are Black and…, actually, none of that matters in this context. Anyone else would have put you on your arse for making such a presumptuous and offensive statement, but when I try to educate you about something you obviously have no frame of reference to, you react by coming out with this bullshit? Did you want to start a fight?’
‘Yeah Kieran- come on- the man was making a fair point and you did start it’, Alice said with timely mediation.
Kieran’s left eye had begun to twitch. His friends knew that this always happened when he was stressed or anxious.
‘So you’re taking his side now?’ he asked irately. Alice pulled a contemptuous face and turned away from him in. She was disgusted at his behaviour.
‘Hey Kieran man- this isn’t about taking sides’, Don interjected, seeing that his friend was losing control.
Sam placed a hand on Kieran’s shoulder,
‘It’s okay Kieran- we all made an error of judgement, it’s okay’
The skinhead looked concerned and rueful. He held his hand out to Kieran,
‘Listen- I don't want this to go too far. No hard feelings, eh Kieran? I accept your point of view, but you’re definitely wrong about me... and most other skinheads’, he offered.
Kieran knew that he could shake the hand and walk away from this unscathed, but something inside of him grew increasingly furious.
He couldn’t stop thinking about how low he had sank in Alice’s estimations. This single incident had undone months of preparatory work in making her his.
He looked at the skinhead and felt nothing, but hatred.
‘Fuck you fascist’, he said and walked away to lean on the wall further down the road.
The skinhead, as amiable as ever, shrugged off the insult and let Kieran walk away.
‘I take it he doesn’t participate in debating clubs?’ he said to Don while offering the hand to him.
Don smiled apologetically,
‘He’s a good kid- he’s just got a few problems. It was nice to meet you anyway’, he said quietly as the pair shook hands.
‘You too mate- my names Brian, by the way’, the skinhead replied.
Kieran watched the interaction from his position several yards down the street. The skinhead was turned with his back to him as he made parting gestures to his friends.
He winced as he heard Don apologise for him and then grimaced as he saw Sam embrace him in a farewell hug. It was obvious to Kieran that the old bastard had no idea how to interact socially. He looked completely out of place when trying to partake in the niceties that he and his friends were accustomed to.
'The brainless fucking thug. Underclass and un-cultured clown', he muttered to himself.
Kieran was tempted to look away when he saw the embrace about to be repeated with Alice, but decided to watch for his own amusement. He expected to see the skinhead stagger awkwardly toward her and fumble the goodbye hug- leaving him vindicated in his every assumption that skinheads were a set of retarded fascists.
It wasn’t to be.
The pair met with grace and Alice kissed him on the cheek. Kieran felt revulsion when he saw her withdraw and then plunge her hand into her satchel, but was incensed to action when she pulled out a business card that had details of her phone number and e-mail address and handed it to the man.
‘Give me a call, anytime’, she said with coy mannerisms, then
‘I’d love to talk to you about your experiences. It would definitely help me in my studies’
Brian took the card from her and began to speak,
‘I’d love to Alice. I'll give you a call the next time I get a day off w...’, he was saying as Kieran launched himself, unseen, toward him.
The skinhead was about to turn away when the hurtling student came bounding into his midriff and sent him sprawling into the road.
Brian grunted in shock and yelled in fear as he landed heavily in front of a speeding bus.
He held out an arm to prevent his untimely demise, but to no avail. A moment later and he was crushed to death.
Don and Sam screamed in disbelieving terror at the horrific scene, but Alice simply wept in shocked silence as she stared at the blood and gore that filled the road.
Kieran’s reality collapsed as he lay, prostrate, where he had fallen on the pavement. His feral rage gave way to desolation as he realised that his life would never be the same again.
………………………..
During the trial, in which he was sentenced to two years imprisonment for manslaughter, Kieran learned that Brian Hennessy, (‘Henna’ to those that knew him closely), was a forty year old, degree qualified, community worker and teacher.
Henna mainly worked with underprivileged children and asylum seeker families, but his scope for forming helping relationships extended to most vulnerable and needy members of society. The elderly, the homeless and the disabled amongst others.
He had been on his way to meet his wife and their two children when he had confronted Kieran for calling him a fascist.
As he was escorted from the dock to the cells, Kieran looked mournfully at the dead man’s family. Brian's Caribbean widow flashed a scowl of hatred his way while she comforted her fatherless children.
Kieran knew that ‘sorry’ wasn’t ever going to cut it.
how did i get here, to you. It's like waiting a lifetime to get to this place and i used to hate all the bad things that happened to me but if they led me to him then I'd do it all again. Most say you cant feel real love and compassion unless you've felt real pain.
I am at home after a hard days work with Chuck on the webcam, he is playing poker online while listening to music AND talking to me.....his mom Linda in the background singing too, I have the music channel on the TV singing also.....I have a gift I am making for him under the table so he can't see (ssshhh don't tell him) and I'm on GP typing this blog
WOW how busy are we???
We are only doing this until he gets here then I can guarantee you we will be missing in action for a while hee hee
This blog will remain on my page until I write my
bye bye for now blog!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
and each day i learn so many new things, eyes wide like a child.
but some things take so long to register:
i always knew this but realized it only yesterday that the right to free expression is not limited to just the intellectual or the socially conscious, it is not just for those who score high in EQ tests,
it is also for those who want to express what they feel.
Sometimes it takes a brilliant mind to invent or discover something,
sometimes it just takes an understanding heart,
It was 7 p.m. Jack’s bedtime. His Mum, Carrie, looked from his bedroom window to watch the new neighbours moving in next door.
‘Two years it’s been empty’, Carrie muttered to herself quietly as the young couple unpacked the remaining boxes from the open rear of the transit van.
The words, ‘Hire me: £48 for 48 hours’ was emblazoned across the side of the aging vehicle.
Two children, a boy and a girl, both somewhere between and around 10-12 years old, ran from the front door, the length of the path, to the garden gate. They laughed and yelled noisily. Carrie considered how different it was going to be to have people living next door again.
‘Two years since the fire’, she said; an involuntary shudder gliding effortlessly up and down her spine, as she closed the curtains to blot out the remaining light of day.
‘Doesn’t time fly by Jack?’ she asked her son and then cringed in self-scolding angst. She had forgotten that he was sleeping.
‘Silly me!’ she whispered to herself and then leaned forward to kiss the space where once Jack would have lain. The place where, two years previously, her baby son had asphyxiated on the fumes from her former neighbours burning home.
Jack had been the only casualty of the arson attack that had intended to kill the drug dealer from next door.
Carrie carefully backed away from the bed and hummed the beginnings of Jack’s favourite soothing tune.
‘Sleep baby, sleep, your father tends the sheep, your mother shakes the dreamland tree, down comes a dream, just for thee, sleep baby sleep’
Carrie sang the soft lullaby until she had exited the immaculately preserved nursery room and carefully closed the door behind her.
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