The Golden Calf

Is there such a thing as knowing too much about someone? Does familiarity truly breed contempt?
I have always had a bit of a struggle with judgment. Now don't get me wrong, im not the type of person who wil pass opinions as fact. Im certainly not the type to harbor ill will or hold grudges either. What i suppose i mean is, that though i find myself in the rhelm of forward thinkers, i still hold certain 'thruths' for myself and my interactions. Some of these truths are based on my moral standing, some on my ethics, and the lot im least proud of, my ignorance and lack of understanding. Now one particular thing that i feel very strongly about is the usage of drugs and alcohol. I see them as an unnecessary faction of existence. I see their use as a crutch for the weak of heart. A bandaid on the ache of the day. Or even a cheatsheet of sorts for the socially inept. I am fully aware that this is a highly unpopular opinion. I am not innocent. In fact, i am a repeat offender. I'll just say that I'm a friend of Bill. If you know, you know. If you don't, kindly read on. I as an individual tend to gravitate towards strong people. I choose to interact with those who i respect. I seek kinship from only those who i see as enlightened, and wise. Proud people. People i wish to emulate. After all, association brings upon assimilation.  So what does one do when one of these chosen brethren shows a side that i am not particularly fond of? More specifically, when someone to whom I've lended the utmost respect and adoration informs me of fault i had not yet been privy to, does that no longer entitle them to my aforementioned adoration?!  Are they still not kind? Are they still not wise? Do they still not love me just the same as they did before? The answers are yes yes and of course. Yet why then do i find it harder to see them in the glowing light of yesterday? From before this unhappy news befell my wounded ears. Should I allow such a trivial thing to degrade the purity of my caring? Ummm i think not. Logically i know that no man is a golden calf to be haplessly respected. So why the disappointment when I'm simply reminded of their humanity? Am i so daft as to expect perfection or am i simply caught off guard when those i care for are not quite what I'd thought them to be... Again, does it matter?  No. They are still just as strong, wise, kind, and loving. And i am still just an enthralled...  just maybe a tad more cautious than i once was. After all is said and done, i believe that the assimilation bit is what gets me. I mean, if they can be great but broken, and my association will inevitably lead to my adaptation of their traits both positive and negative, where does one draw the line of acceptability? Is there a fucking line? I'm beginning not to think so. Maybe my truths are all just folly. Maybe life is comprised not of black and white, but shades of gray...  and oh how colorful gray can be...

Occupational Hazard

1) We are The People. 2)We are united... But are we? In every event involving proud, passionate people there will be volatile interaction. Where voices strive to be heard will there not always be few who shout louder than their comrades? Of course there will be! We are strong as individuals and as a unit standing in Solidarity we have the potential to be unstoppable. That is if we can get out of our own way. I am now, and have always been, and observer. And what i see at this juncture in our occupation is trouble. This is no longer a movement about the banks, or money in government. Although we still strive for change in these areas we have come to a precipice far larger and greater than just that. I believe that the Occupy Movement is one  capable of being all inclusive of any and every issue that has the capability to enhance our way of life as a world, not city, county, state or country, but world. Where one individual may place weight with labor another may place weight with gender inequality. Where one cries at the thought of war another may cry at the thought of animals being poorly treated. No one issue holds more value, or higher stature than the next. These are all problems of the masses. And we folks, are the masses. This trouble that i speak of lies within two houses; The house of ego and the house of diplomacy. Though i say two houses i really feel that they are one in the same. We are a passionate and proud lot. We are warriors in a new time forging forth for the betterment of our world and dammit we want to be heard now! But who of us are ready to listen? who of  us are ready to open our hearts to those we may see as difficult and love them into a new way of being? Im sure all will say "I" but i have seen that fewer will be ready to act. We as people stating loudly that  we are here to forge a new way seem to have difficulty letting go of the old way ourselves. When we see our brethren falter with either their behavior or their method should we not love him more for his fault? Should we not strive harder to show him the new way? Should he be abandoned? Though our ego may tell us that our rightness in the matter hold more bearing, should not our hearts remind us that we all make mistakes? I know that those who shout with anger at the misguided would beg forgiveness if the tables were turned. But our egos push and shove and devalue the unpopular insight or crass nature of another when offended. When we are the offending party we always seem to be a bit less slighted do we not? An eye for an eye leaves us both blind. If we stand to be the new world, if we strive to live a new way then we must open ourselves to forgiveness. We must demonstrate the values that we preach. We must let go the past and hold no grudges. If one cannot be spoken to in the correct manner then the speech will not be heard. In this occurrence i feel that it not be the fault of the ears, but the fault of the mouths. In order to speak rightly we must place aside our person. I as Davina have no business addressing You as Bill if we stand for unified cause. We must lay to rest our vendetta and address one another as one Occupier in Solidarity for a unified cause to another of the same beast. Until we do that folks, until we learn to live and breath the diplomacy we beg of our counterparts, we will continue to waver. We will continue to bicker like children. We will continue to weaken ourselves..... so cut the shit and stand together already!!! We is always bigger than Me. So let us act Our size.

how quickly we forget...

oh how quickly we loose ourselves in routine. we grow complacent and tired. we get cranky, we complain. we silly humans allow the jonses to tell us what to buy, the opposite sex to tell us how to feel about sexuality and/or sexyness, and our mirrors to dictate what we see in ourselves. we spend our days looking forward instead of around us. we miss the beauty of the day by distracting ourselves with tomorrow.  but what happens if there is no tomorrow? if you knew that this day would be your last what would you do? who would you call? who would you make love to? whos face would you see when you closed your eyes for the last time? would you stare up at the clouds, or wander the beach? would you wander the park with your dog or have one last dinner with your family? its a double edged sward the concept of knowing we are going to go.... i suppose the moral of this musing is this, do not be afraid. start a conversation with the hot guy at the coffee shop. ask the pretty girl for her number. play fetch with your dog. smoke. tell everyone you love them and mean it. forgive those who have wronged  you. apologize to those you have harmed. laugh. live each day as the simple blessing it be. just be. live each day with a pure heart, and a tenderness of soul. be compassionate. i may or may not know you, we may never meet or we may see each other often, i may never know your name who you are or what youre all about, but i love you. please, i beg you live before you cant.

The End Of An Era...

The Beginning Of The Next Life. As anyone who's ever gone through a bad break-up can tell you, it takes time, support, and a whole lotta love from friends and family to truly move on.But what do you do when you have all of those things, and you still just cant move on? How does one "Move On"... When I was very very young i met a boy. He was the prettiest boy I'd ever seen up close. He had a mowhawk and the most perfect blue eyes with little yellow sunflowers in them. I loved him. We were together for a year, and then it ended as most youthful romances do. It was a decision made for logistical purposes, partnered by family pressure. It didn't matter why, it was over, and i was not ready for it to be. It took me about 6 months to go out on another date, and over a year before i stopped crying over the loss of him. What i felt for him was as true a love as there had ever been, twice as strong, and it was not going to go quietly away. Every guy i dated after him was somehow compared to him in my mind. Be it subtle similarities, or overtly shared traits, this man was the measuring stick to which i ruled upon all others. It stayed that way for the better part of a decade. Now I do realize that this is not exactly normal, and it most defiantly isn't healthy. But regardless, it was the way i did things.... desperately clinging to the memory of something that was trying to relive or re-kindle it. Now in my defense, it wasnt a straight ten years of nostalgia. He made the occasional re-appearance into my life, staying just long enough to remind me why i loved him so, then leaving again and reminding me of all the sadness and void that there once was renewed and stronger than ever. Not only bad came from our to and fro dance of in and out of love. He is responsible for the life of my son.   He gave me the most valuable gift that ever was, and i will always love him for that. Last week, keeping in step with our annual waltz, he and i got together for dinner. Though the familiarity he lends is always a comfort, the spark that i was sure would never die had simply fizzled away. The traits i once found enthralling now rubbed me like a poorly cared for wool sweater.The eyes were the same, still magnetic and enticing, but the tingles in the pit of my stomach were simply gone. HOW DID THIS HAPPEN!? What on earth had changed so drastically?! In short, me. I just wasnt that girl anymore. Not long ago, while i was in a place of contentment within myself, i was lucky enough to meet someone that evoked in me all of the love that i had thought lost.  He reminded me nothing of this mythical character from my memories. He, standing next to my measuring stick, overpowered it. It was a chance meeting at least, and a turn of fate at best. I was in Santa Ana staying yet another long, cold night at the Occupy. The others had all decided to go off and gallivant through town, leaving only myself, and one other hold down the fort. Then my life changed. A tall, well built man approached the site. He had a harsh expression of skepticism and an attitude that reeked of ego. In a stern, but soft voice he stated simply "I've got questions." My counterpart, wishing to go and join in the festivities wit the others quickly pointed to me and remarked "Talk to her." being in a somewhat foul mood i was all the ready for the debate that this individual was looking to get into. My gun was cocked and loaded with all of the knowledge i needed to respond to all of his questions, and argue all of his doubts away. There's really nothing like a good debate when you're having a bad day. It allows one to expel their tension while stimulating the mind enough to get those endorphins going...thus turning that frown, upside-down haha. We commenced. It was the most beautiful debate i had ever participated in. It was like a dance. Each persons argument flowing seamlessly with the next, each word foreplay. The next thing i new an hour had passed. He decided to stay. The others eventually returned and he melded into the group like he had been there for ages... fast forward to today... My phone rang early which woke me from the sound sleep i had been in. I received some good news and decided to share it with my handsome debate partner from earlier in my tale. He stopped over to see me. The tingly feelings are stronger today than they have ever been. The kisses sweeter and still potent enough to steal my breath. When he kisses me i go weak in the knees and my mind becomes fuzzy. I'm dizzy. There is a calm comfort when im with him. The gentle way he holds me rivals the warmest of blankets. We laugh until our cheeks sting and our bellies hurt. he has helped me to see the good in myself. When he looks at me he does so with such intensity that i fell as though i am the only girl in his world. He is everything i ever wanted in a partner. Oh how silly was i to hold onto the past for so long.... Oh how lucky am i that i chose to release it just in time. Its funny how things work out. I;m happy that the old era gave me all of the joy and pain that it did. It helped to shape me into the person i am today. The person that is the perfect match, for my perfect match.... this new chapter looks to be a promising one. 

An Interesting Predicament.

Have you ever prayed for something so hard that you begged the heavens? You just knew that if the powers that be granted your wish that all would be right with the world. Your dreams would all come true and you would be blessed with the proverbial Happily Ever After. You know that if things went your way you could be happy. And then they dont. Your wish goes ungranted, your prayer unanswered,  your dream is only that. Its funny though isnt it? you spend so much energy being so certain of something that never was... or that could not be. After a while, something strange begins to occur. your thoughts shift, your wishes take on new form, and your life actually goes on! you manage to find a way to move past the nagging could be's and shoulda beens. you put on your big girl panties and you move on. well, usually. i had a wish once, i knew if it came true that all would be right with the world  and i too could be truly happy. i spent years agonizing over what was, what wasnt, and worst, what went wrong. this particular problem was a reoccurring one. the universe continually allowed me to be placed in a position to clearly see the lack of 'moving on' that had taken place. i was the same, i loved just as strongly as i ever had that wish i once made. i spun and floundered and tossed about lost and lacking yearning for this dream to come true. and then, once i had accepted that i was fated to be left unfulfilled, something happened that was stranger still; the dynamic had shifted just so, that i was the one freed of wanting, and the wish desired me. i had grown. my wishes had taken on new form, and i no longer prayed for the silly plot line i once had. i came to a place of contentment. of peace. of closure. the dream was not as shiny as id remembered it. the details, though familiar, just no longer quite felt like home. i dwell in a new dream now. one far more beautiful than anything i had once thought possible, let alone deserved. and oh how disappointed i would be today had i been strapped down to the tarnished brass story i had so long clung to. the glow of what lies ahead wouldnt be available for capture had i remained bogged with the weight of the past. time to move forward...life is waiting.

Home.

What makes a home? Is it the walls, or the portraits on them? Is it the town or the people in it? It's all subjective really. That old saying Home Is Where The Heart Is comes to mind. But what does it really mean? For me, It's quite simple. My home lies in my memories. It's not so much a place, but a place in time. Home is the gray couch coushion that i used to build my fort. Home is the white stuffed bunny with the soft pink nose. Home is the rush i felt with our first kiss and the sadness i still feel knowing that we won't share more of them. It is the pulse of my subconscious. The images i see when I close my eyes and the lacking i feel with their fading away as i open them. Being someone who has moved around alot, state to state, city to city, i find it challenging growing attached to a house. It has always seemed a tad bit unnecessary to me. Im not saying I don't understand why certain people lend so much weight and value to a house. Now that i own one ive gathered that It's the idea of this house that i love.  the fantasy of it. closing my eyes and envisioning a family, and a future. growing old here. but if it were to burn down tomorrow, though i would be sad for my lost things, i would not be homeless. i dont believe that someone who is loved can be homeless. ive had my fair share of sleeping outside. on couches. in storage units. etc. but i have never been homeless. i have been a traveler. every city ive stayed i has been my home. every bush in which i laid was my house. every other traveler my family.i had no issue leaving and starting anew elsewhere. when i got to laguna i felt something a tad bit different. there were people there who i grew to love. i grew to love them so much that i chose to stay there. i made real friends. had real relationships. i grew. ive found that as i grew and changed and matured in that city the attachment for the place grew stronger. it wasnt the beach or even the people, it was the memories that i was forming. the life that i had there..the day that cowboy died i think is the day that i lost the will to stay.i knew it would never be the same. that followed by the end of the three year relationship i had in that city made me not want to go back. i would go weeks without going into town, then months.

this brings me to part 2. You Can't Go Home Again. I was in Laguna on friday. Hugging old friends, walking old haunts, and reminiscing. I had a great day but it just wasn't quite the same. In fact, it was almost disappointing. The beauty of that place lives in my head. Every time i go back and don't see Rich and Jared and Brock and.Paul and Frankie on the sand on a blanket: every time i pass by my old place. When i sit on the. Patio of Starbucks and there's not a familiar face in sight, i am reminded that this place is no longer mine. A new crew will now take over the territory and we have all been scattered to the wind to follow our own paths. But while i sit in bed in my new city, and think back on the place that added so many perfect chapters to my story, it still feels like home. No more my home than the house in which i now dwell, but certainly no less. so i guess i was wrong about part 2. you can go home again, even if only in your mind.

stuck

for the last three days ive been trying to write a piece on Home. im having a bit of trouble. im not sure whether its the concept itself that has me at a stalemate, or the fact that ive got far more pressing issues reeling in my mind and taking up too much space to allow others to form. its probably the later. i recently went through a very wrenching breakup. he was the kind of man that made me have faith in men again. he didnt always say or do the right thing, in fact, more often than not he said the wrong thing. it wasnt that he looked good, or smelled good(which he did. very good.) it wasnt the cheesy grin when he told a bad joke or the hard persona covering a marshmellow core. it was the whole of him. it was the way he looked at me when he was leaving in the morning. the way he held me. the way he kissed me. when he kissed me my whole world stopped. i grew dizzy and weak in the knees. it was the plans that we had made together. it was the child that we wanted to raise together. i have truly loved two men. ive had relationships with far more than two, but i never felt what i felt for the two. the first was when i was 16. he was my world, and i dont think i will ever really get over him. the second came as a shock to say the least. i had reached a place where i had decided that i was done with love. i didnt want to fall i love any more, every again. i was content with the idea of being alone. then he came.  he was a shot of life. he made my brain tingle. he was smart, sweet and sexy. he was everything id ever wanted in a man, lest the awful taste in music. he wasnt perfect. he was perfectly imperfect. and i love him. our love was real. and strong and true. it was the thing movies are made of, and novels written about. it ended because it had to not because we wanted it to. the lives wed lived before each other were not about to allow us to leave them to start again. circumstances being what they were we knew we had to part. i have never felt so empty. but even though i dont get to be with him now, there is a big part of me that thinks one day we will be whole again. until then, ill have to forge forth through the pain. the haze of lacking that has become my day to day. until then, i will live this half life. a body without a heart. a mind stuck elsewhere...