today its been hard to be tethered to Earth, so instead of my list and half ass attempts to get things done I've been vibrating out, in fantasy or what most would call fantasy. I'm kinda looking for the instigation points in my life. Like Henry's brother coming home from Vietnam. His stories still haunt me. His sense of humour saved him. but he had remorse and horror and injury from the war. He told me about the drugs, the partying, for three days before they got sent back to the front lines the military would provide the weed, heroine, booze and girls. Then they would get sent into the jungles in a haze. He called in strikes. The Viet Cong he said always travelled with civilians and you couldn't tell them apart so you'd smoke all of them, He had a baby with a beautiful Vietnamese women who after a year and a half of fighting to bring them to the States he married her and brought them both here. That was my high-school boyfriend's brother Joe Yonda. I still think about him and his sadness and how he made me laugh.
The only essay that I remember writing in High School was about the Assassination of Salvador Allende which was supported and sponsored by our CIA with the Urgings of the pervert Henry Kissenger.
This was after the hammer years of losing my Dad, then Brother who was 18 months younger than me, then Ron Davis and then my Grandpa/ The president, his brother and Martin Luther King. Compression - Blurr that I don't remember much of. Move to Bellevue. Not knowing the grace of living on the Lake and being young. I always fought someone or something. Wearing Jeans to school to Nuclear Sub. base. I remember that demonstration, being told by the guy with the speaker phone that they were building prisons. In the seventies he saw the road our future was on
Death pluto has played a large role in my life. I want to use my gifts and feel like I am on idle. Waiting for the gate to open. I am impatient. and sad today.
Is it true that all my country has to offer the world is military Hardware, private armies and wagers on War? Is that the best we can do? We could be at the forefront. We let our worries rule. break us up make our neighbour our enemy. Drug us , poison us, destroy our bloodline and your bloodline - too. Is that going to be it? Because our fear is nectar to Satan - will we succumb to it? ( I am being Archetypal and dramatic - here.) Will enough light be accepted in the mass consciousness? will we know when that happens. Has the scale already tipped? Me thinks, hopes, prays that it has.
I was shy, sensitive, as a child, I'd hide in the school closet to not be seen. I hated shoes.
I loved the swamp and the crick, big cedar stumps frogs and salamanders. And monkeys in the trees of my imagination the alders had monkeys. It was beautiful and even with mr burns luring us in with "vitamins" an oh yeah and mr Smith in the new house wagging his wang pretending he didn't see all the neighbourhood kids looking after dinner on a warm summers evening. . I - still felt safest in the woods. Then Steve Dillard a danger, predator. His dad was a drunk, my life was to avoid the neighbourhood bullies. Tommy Wipple threw me in a pit with cut up garder snakes. the smell. I avoided them. The Coonie's Lake Sammamish Cabin,Catholic Latin Mass. The Johnson's serious Lutheran Preaching, Our Christian Science-my mother's guilt.and beauty Congregationalism. I, Kim and Dale Nelson Woodby Island. would wonder Olsen's Orchard. A heaven.
