I don't know Kathy Sierra either but - WHAT A GOOD WAY TO GET RID OF SOMEONE... hmmmm

This is in reference to an important piece I read at darkdaughta's blog.
So, getting rid of someone doesn't really need an outside force now does it. It looks like all someone has to do is say someone *did* something, put it all over blog land and suddenly - over night - the accused person is in a major shyt storm - and all of blog land has to be under strict manners and rules. Read: BLOG law. So, what will be the punishment for going outside the manners. Who will decide if it what is being said is even true.

I'm thinking about that CBS man, and his comments, and how we don't actually know if his comments were his, or if it was a smart, well created campaign to lift a slumping CBS radio out of the ratings grave yard. What has happened to CBS radio stock; and CBS radio ratings sense all of that began.

And the CBS man? He may have been paid out; he may be offered a new job at a new station, or he may go travel for a bit. Who knows?

But back to the main issue here... here's what I know. Something seems to be brewing. Bloggers, like people in general communicate indirectly, save a few brave souls... A way of dealing that is so indirect, a lot of people don't even know - or have time to see what is going on.
If you (a blogger) don't like a person, or a person's views, you (the blogger) can tell a story about how the person you don't like (or their views) have been attacked and treated. "I'm scared!" "I fear for my life!" "This person is going to kill me!"

You need not show proof, you need not show evidence, you just need to be able to make sure people see your accusations, and off you go!

Words have a lot of charge to them, and no one seems to be talking about what exactly are the facts regarding this Kathy Sierra issue. In fact, is anyone asking: what was the relationship between the people involved? Or more importantly: the person who did this *attack*, what are their political views? Are they against the grain? What else is going on here? Who is Kathy Sierra anyway? Simple questions? Anyone asking?

But imagine (if you will!) if nothing had happened, and this person simply wanted to neutralize an opinion or someone.

Or maybe, I wanted to get more links, more posts, be more popular (and make no mistake, from what I can tell, this is a popularity game. OR MAYBE THEY JUST WANT BLOG LAND PERIOD TO BE BROUGHT under control.. read: all those anarchists, lefty bloggers, and or people who think outside of narrow parameters - beware. You're about to be rained in.

We are living in dangerous times. But then, we always were.

NOW THAT'S WHAT I'M TALKIN' ABOUT! i am so going to do this!

Fresh off my post about playing with Barbies and one thing I forgot to do was talk about the purpose of the post. I was fustrated with (and I still am fustrated) with the limitations put on boys and men. And so, I bring you ... MALE BELLY DANCERS.

Click the player below to watch: TITO, one of EGYPT'S HOTTEST MALE BELLY DANCERS
enjoy.

SO I WAS SITTING ON THE TOILET, thinking about Barbie...

After I woke up this morning, I was in the bathroom reading my Intimacy and Solitude workbbook. I decided to fast forward to the part about gender. And while reading it, I found I re-connected with something I did when I was a child. I played with Barbie!

You see, when I was visiting Barbados - where some of my cousins' lived (when I was a child), one of my cousins had a huge Barbie house, with all the figures, sofas and even a car. The house was about a metre tall, and three metres in width. It was big.

Before this latest realization, I did remember playing with this house, but all I used to remember about it was that I wanted to burn it down. [I think I hated that cousin - but that's another post]
And I could wrap my mind around that - after all - I was a boy, and what do boys do, they make mess and disaster. That memory made sense.

But this morning, I remembered more.. I remembered making up an entire story about the dolls. I gave them new names, and I remembered being Ken. I drove the convertable. It was bright purple... [I think I really liked that]

Anyway, I think I made up a story where Ken was cheating on Barbie, and Barbie decided to get some revenge on Ken by torching his car.

In Barbados, a lot of folks light their gas stoves by matches, so I went on over to the kitchen to grab some matches. I thought.. how amazing, I'll have and epic ending to this story... wouldn't it be cool if everything burned up... the car, the house? everything.
I really didn't think it thru. (Hey I was 10.) I loved films and tv at this point, and so I think that fueled my passion for this.. does this sound like a cliche?

Anyway, the worst was to come.
Before I got a chance to do my firey grand finale - my cousin, a male, caught me playing with the figures. And so it began: "Oh my god... he's playing with Barbies - we knew he was fruity!" "Mom! he playing with her dolls!!! Doesn't he know they're for girls?" I remember denying that I was even playing with them.

Which made no sense, it was obvious that I was. That's all I can remember right now.
And don't even get me started on my demand for an ez-bake oven...

Well, gotta go - have to feed my son.

Sharing ideas and thoughts: I'm writing to you

Galin. Thanks for leaving your post. I'm glad you did. Only thing is, I went to try and link to you and could not find you or your blog. I'm interested in knowing what types of things are happening for you as you read my blog. So much of the problem with men is, we are completely disconnected from each other. Lets see what can be shared.
Looking forward to hearing back.

I took a cyber field trip to Japan: PODJAPAN and found...

a comment on men and women in Japan. Here is a snip (or click here to read the article)

Pod Japan wrote: one of the major problems in Japan: the mother / son relationship is way too strong, which stunts the emotional development of boys, and later makes it much harder for them to relate normally to women. So when (and if) they get married, they won't know how to make their wives happy... Lather, rinse and repeat: this vicious circle has been perpetuating itself for at least 50 years, and I personally don't see what can break it"

My comment was:

OKAY - Well, your comments can go further. It is really sad that the world has been constructed in this manner. You speak of the problem being the mother / son relationship inference being the unhealthy relationship between a mother and her son. Well, I think more the issue is the unhealthy relationship between the men in Japan with .. well.. other men. They teach each other to hate and disrespect women; they don't value girl babies / children and only want to invest (care, love, funds) in the boy- child. And this dominating belief has no doubt effected the way mothers/ woman see themselves. It is no wonder some of the women in Japan have unhealthy relationships with their sons.

This is what has been reinforced and taught over and over and over again by the ruling class... the MEN. I think we should start there instead of pointing fingers at - as usual - mothers/ women/ girls.

As well, it speaks to the sad state of "male culture" - which is universal - they only way we actually exist as a powerful force is to dominate, humiliate and belittle women. We men need some serious help. I for one, think a men's emotional revolution is necessary.
Thoughts?

RE-READING AWAKENING

"...Something.
.. say anything..." I say to myself.

I don't listen to my internal voice. I listen to my little boy who says: you don't have to talk if you don't want to..."

TO which DD says:

Seminal... this is the part where you get angry with me for calling you on your shit!" I say nothing.
I stare at DD and say nothing.

What brought on all of this? Well, this time it was the sound of Shamolian (our 9 month old baby). I had left him to crawl all over the futon (or roll rather) while I flicked the television. I was on the futon to. I'd turn him every few seconds, but mostly he didn't like it. He made struggling sounds, sounds of fatigue and sounds that seemed to say: pick me up... pick me up...". So I turned off the television, got flat on my back (on the futon), and tired to put him on my stomach to sleep - he often likes this.

He didn't .. and at this point, I can understand why.

So, I'll put him at my side.

DD came into the room seconds later. She asked me if I had been sleeping. "No, I hadn't been sleeping I said." "I heard Shom in distress"

To be continued. More to be added.

FIRST NATIONS, me and my 5 yr old.

SO Stinkapee and I jumped into our car and drive across town. Where we are going, I have no idea - but I do know that I wasn't going to be home. DD and I talked about how we have different experiences in our growing up relating to men. If I get triggered, I'll tend to freeze and not know what to do next.

I know I'm suppose to have feelings of shame around this... like... hey your partner is dealing with the landlord and not you. What kind of man are you. Answer: A smart one. My partner and I have diferent talents - and are trying to weigh the emotional weight of each other. It's not all men this happens with - our landlord is a very specific type. So we concluded that it'b be ok if I wasn't in the house if I was around.

ON the drive, Stinkapee was very excited about all the posters and fryers in our neighbourhood. I asked Stinkapee what she'd like to do, and she said get a surprise present for *Mama*. She said:
"What kind of cake does MAma like, cause we could get her a really cool CHOCOLATE cake." To which I said, "what a great idea.. only thing.. well, i'm not sure Mama likes chocolate as much as you..."
Then she asked me, "well what kind of cakes does Mama like? I told her, Mama likes "apples and vanilla ice cream." YIPEE! she exclaimed. We'll get a vanilla ice cream cake with apples!" Her face was glowing.

When we got to our destination, I asked Stinkapee if she wanted to walk for a bit. She said yes. We came to one of about 10 Japanese restaurants in this particular area. Stinkapee pooked her head into one restaurant.

I saw a crowd, and I thought... NO. No crowds. I can't handle crowds right. I thought about Stinkapee and the crowd, and not being able to hear her. I also thought my attention would be drifting all over the place trying to keep her out of hazards. I hate that. I'm forced to micro manage and this also pisses off Stinkapee.

We finally found a restaurant that was not crowded at all. Basically, it sat about 40 and there were about 4 people in the whole space. Perfect I thought.

The waitress came, and was very charmed by Stinkapee asking for tempura. Stinkapee also informed the waitress that she was going to make tempura at home. In other posts I'll write more about the actual lunch and how it went.

I want to jump to what happened when we were getting back in the car to leave the visited neighbourhood. There were these two white men are walking up the street and speaking loudly. I am in the process of putting Stinkapee in our car, and one of them is saying to the other:

"You know, the major problem with Canada is that try saying any racial slur and someone is going to have something to say about it - except if it's about the First Nations. If I say "that stupid drunken Indian" right here on the street - chances are no one is going to say anything."

Now I heard this just as I was closing Stinkapee's car door, to which I said: "Oh I'd have something to say.. I'd have a few choice words" To which he then said - "well, I' really sorry - and I'm glad you would but I mean most others."

I got in my car, and immediately Stinkapee asks me why she doesn't see more First Nations people. I said to her, because the government made a bad decision and decided many of them needed to live in their own neighbourhoods - called reserves. Then she asked me why the people in history made such bad choices. I told her it was a lotof people who live on the goddess mother earth's planet have parents that didn't deal with their emotions. Do you talk about your emotions Stinkapee. "Yes, I do." she replied.

Well, many people don't. In fact, the parents of some people in government have parents which are Durselys. And their grandparents, and their grandparents are durselys too. And when you're a dursely, you make bad choices, and choices that hurt people.

"I never want to be a dursely Papi." she says. "You could never be Stinkapee. I love you." I reply. "Papi" she continues, can we go to Disney World.

*Boy it just keeps on coming*

Constant Mothering

So, I just got into an argument, or was it a non-argument with my partner about my constant need for attention in a particular fashion, the mothering fashion. Yes, a constant validation that only a mother can offer (which mine will not - and yes my little boy is angry about that)

I want my attention, I want my attention, I want my attention. I want it at all costs. I went to counseling today... ... I'm having a realization about my friendship with my friend Charles. You see, him and I are starting a men's group, which incorporates journaling, reading, and reflection. But he just told me he's kinda not into writing. And I thought about how it would be great if he knew about blogging.

But then again, who am I to talk. I'm really similar to him in that I'm addicted to work... all the time. I just so happen to have a partner with boundaries, and so - she expects me to follow thru on what I commit to. Not so for him.

And even with the partner, it has taken me years to move - and i'm still struggling. Go back and read some of earlier posts... i'm still in a lot ways still in that place.


Anyway, I saw this doc on Metellica, DD talks about this on her site, in which the band is going thru some really tough times and so hires a psychotherapist to come and see them once a week to work out their stuff. I envision something like this for me and my group. Of course, who's got the deep pockets to pay for it on Metellica's scale? Well, Metellica. Maybe we all wouldn't see the therapist every week - maybe it would be once a month.

But it would take some serious commitment.

And would probably end my constant need to be mothered all the time by my partner. I need to take control of my serious lack of emotional care from my parents. I need to take control of this. Right now, I'm just total ball of .. well ... old rage. I talked to my counsel today and released a lot of anger - an anger charge that seems like it is endless. I don't stop. I feel like I'm always angry.

So, I beat up my crazy landlord, that madman - I gave him all my rage. Jumped on his face, threw across the room. Gave him round house, kicks and side kicks. I elbowed him, I kicked him - this of course all in the comfort of my therapists' office.

I think I need to do that everyday. It was my brother I was beating up. It was probably also the rest of my birth family that I am angry at that I don't have a chance to tell off in person. And of course, I don't have a chance to beat up... though I think I'd like too.

Everyone one of them needs a good beating by me. No talking. Just beating. Maybe i shouldn't write this. Maybe it's not safe. I'm having thoughts around me being a "dangerous Black man" that one needs to be careful of.

You know, I saw today as mothering myself. Now, if i could just keep the ball rolling. I put my call out for my group out in my blog and keep you all informed of what happens next.

THE SHMOLIANthe birth of a new baby

The latest edition to our household is already 8 months old. I feel shocked at how little I wrote about the birth. But I just wasn't able to commit to doing the writing just yet.

It was very moving and emotional and intense. It was frightening. It was joyful. It was scary. It was natural. It was birth. My daughter was there. The mid-wives were there. We filmed it. We watched it. Again.

IN some previous posts I think I've talked about the importance of being present for this child, knowing that he is a boy-child and knowing how boy children - specifically Black boy children are under-mis educated and pretty well... left back.

But b4 I get all theoretical on you, let me just write my feelings down, I mean for gods sake the point of this blog was to talk about my feelings. First the birth: it was like nothing I had ever experienced before. I mean, I wasn't emotionally present for stinkapee - I would say - I mean - I was there but only in body. You should see my eyes in some of the pictures of that day. I look like a fucking zombie.

I don't even think I was there. It was like a was on another planet. Some place far far away. I mean my head is exploding right now just thinking about how I felt in the moment. My young self didn't even really believe it was all happening. AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH
Oh shit... I need to get a hold of myself.

So when I think about Shomalian, I think - the opposite. I has present and excited and really interested in the birth. Our life was different physically, but more importantly, I was seeing a counselor, attending a mens group, facilitator of a young men's group against violence and reading. Then slowly things started to change and I didn't know what to do. Well that's not true either. Wow, writing is something else. Of course I knew what to do, I just didn't want to change anything. I wanted to stay miserable and angry and complain. I still want to be angry... okay I'm ranting now.

Back to the day of the birth. It was an unbelievably beautiful day. I was shitting bricks though cause 4 days before, I had been preparing for (the baby's) arrival. DD was having light contractions on the Thursday (he wasn't born until the following Monday) But because of the quick birth of Stinkapee, I thought - i guess we all thought it best to be ready. So, the midwives came over, I paced up and down a little - and I even had my trusty video camera.

Gotta go pick up my daughter - more later.
I

THE VOICES IN MY HEADand how need to get them out

I was reading "I don't want to talk about it" (Terrence Real, Author) not long ago. Not long ago at all in fact, say just a couple of minutes. The chapter is called Two Inner Children. Even though the person Real describes doesn't look anything like me, I definitely had a a-ah moment. Even as I write this I'm starting to get tired.

But I'm going to fight this. My body starts to shut down when things start to get too emotional. Seriously, it does. It even happens with my counselor, in her office - I can't even believe it.

So I'm reading the book and he's talking about one of his clients, a mid-twenties man who says he likes to spend most of his time practicing "self immolation". And I thought to myself, what it this, and do I do that?

Then Terrence started to talk about what it meant, and then I knew I could relate. He writes:
"There was something wrong with me, something unlike other people - something frightening and bleak. I felt a perverse sense of blackness, (I'm not going into a race analysis here), sadness.."

I think I feel this all the time. No, I know I do. Last year I think I was doing pretty well, but then I just fell off the wagon. My men's group collapsed, and my community that was being built, shifted. No more did I have anyone to hide behind...

I've got to clean up now... I'll be back in a sec.

NBA player comes out

This is going to be very interesting. I immediately thought about how I understood myself when I was a child, how I understood what it means to be a man, a human, a living being, and the lines that were not to be crossed - for any reason. MORE TO COME
Please look at this, comments to follow.

I'M BACK

IT has been quite a bit since I wrote in this blog. Actually, I haven't really written anything, anywhere in a while. So I've got loads to share about my family, the movement that has happened there; my friendship developments, and OF COURSE the birth of my son. Hell, that deserves it's own blog for that matter. Speaking of which, have you seen my partner's blog?

So, where to begin. I suppose I should just start right? Ok...

WANNA BLOW YOUR HEAD OFF?

check out the latest (Feb 17, 2007) posting over at darkdaughta.blogspot.com

This is a repeat...OF OLDER CONVERSATION(?)

Work with depressed man and their partners has convinced me that men's much-vaunted fear of women and of intimacy is really not a fear of EITHER. What men fear is subjugation. In the one up/one down, better than/less then, hierarchical world of traditional masculinity, one is either in control or controlled. Vulnerability, openness, yielding to another's wishes - many of the requiste skills for healthly relationships - can be experineced by men as invitations to be ATTACKED. Men's fear of entrapment, of female engulfment, is not really about women at all. It is a transposition of a male model of interaction to the living roon and the bedroom. When men fear that their women will "engulf" them, they fear that their women will act like men.

insert more from 318-319.

WWhat Real is talking about here between Joe and Barbara is something that has happened with darkdaughta and I except for the fact that darkdaughta does talk about how she is feeling. She is actually quite good and clear at proposing courses of actions and talking the lead at neigotating a path.

But I think this is where I experience my partner and the construction of her "engulfing" me. And it has become even worse, as I now move to actively sabotage all that was created. My latest and most tidy tactic is to not listen to anything DD says - at all, ever. And I want her to stop pointing it out to me. I want her to stop.

Memories of the past few days/weeks:
1. Camp director came up to DD to find out why Stinks missed grad performance. I agreed to handle this b4 hand, but drop the ball and left DD a sitting duck
2. After a long day out, DD told me she was hungry (she's breast feeding) and told me EXACTLY what to make her. I came downstairs and 20 minutes later( it felt like 5 minutes) , still- had still not gotten thru making the first part of the dish.

Truly though, I don't express love the same way as DD. I'm willing to take what I can get from her. I enjoy everything she gives me. But I don't give back in the same way.

I won't even always think first when it comes to Stinks and the new baby. I see things and blank that I ever saw them. Or I should saw, choose to blank them.

So here I am on blogger, at like 5 in the morning on Sunday.

Need to cry now.

Slipping backwards

Well. I'm barely communicating with my DD. The birth of the new baby has been amazing. We plan on doing so much, loving and laughing and caring and touching with him. BUt b4 I get to all of that - I'm still back at battling my little boy. Why did I write battle? You know who I battle? I battle DD. I battle stinks. I've been battling a fake opponent and I've sabotaged my process repeatedly.

I refuse to do anything different.
I'm always resting on my superior stuff. I saw this family riding the streetcar and the guy was so asleep at the wheel. He wasn't communicating with his partner about where to bring their stroller, how to navigate around the crowd etc. When it was time to get off, he just walked away from her. Sounds familiar.

I'm not walking away from DD when we are on the tram, but I walk away in conversation all the time. All of the issues in Az. have made it possible for my issues to be obsecured.

But that is all changing now, with the shifting of the house set-up.

These are (un)edit comments written at 4.57am.

I think about where I was even a few months ago on this blog. What happened to my 'progress'. What happened to staying focused? What do I have now? I'm gonna go read.

HOW 'BOUT BEING HONESTcause I now what I do...

Well, I'm back. Well i never went anywhere really. DD, is on the verge of giving birth - I think she's about 3 weeks or less away - and would you believe I managed to block all over the place. But really in fact, I need to go back and read my other posts - posts that I should be learning from. Posts that without referencing, just seem to be performance.
Remember the post about sex, or how about listening, or how about ....
all have been well - dashed to one side - why? oh, I've told myself a version of ... work... no stability... stuff... blah.. blah.. it all amounts to blahhhhhhh
hhhhhhhhh
hhhhhhhhh
now - i'm going to re-read, and return. Then I'm going to do get back on the horse I said I wanted to ride (my life - to be clear) and ride.

SO I'M JUST SUPPOSE TO PUT UP WITH CRAPi'm looking for a friend but not at any cost

So, a few months back I met this friend, Morgan. I was really excited because it seemed like Morgan and I - who were completely different - were hitting it off.

He was going to 'popular' personal healing retreats on weekends and I was seeing my counsellor and continuing to build inside Azania. Building meaning - having difficult conversations about relationships etc. Anyway, there have been so major bumps in our road to building frienship, even though I have really tired to be honest and clear from the outset. We've talked about our differences: race, values; but also our commonalities - like both of us making foolish decisions when it comes to advice and suggestions from our partners.

I know for me, it goes beyond - well you're a woman so I'm not listening to you. But that certainly plays some part for me - cause I know that was what was modelled to me.

And I know, that Morgan is struggling with similiar issues and that there is something to gain by remaining friends. I'm just at a cross-roads because he did something yesterday that really pissed me off.

And as I write this, I'm struggling to not make excuses for his behaviour - oh, but, I've already been down this road and Morgan's weird choices - which aren't really weird - they are in fact: quite clear.

First, their was Morgan positioning me to his wife as jocking to watch his son, so my daughter and his son Billy could make it to their weekend activity. This was not the case, and it was that Morgan had other plans, didn't want to break them, and instead asked his partner if I could take their son, with Stinkapee to their weekend activities in their car. Then his partner came back talkin' 'bout: well, I don't know Seminal that well, I'll have to warm to him"

I told Morgan everyhing that happened in a nice chain of events so that he could get a clear picture of what had happened, so he knew why I was pissed off at him. I also told him that I was scared that he wouldn't want to be my friend if I told him the truth. A reality since many people don't like the truth. This is especially hard because I am looking for TRUE male friends who I can count on and trust.

Well, Morgan took full responsibility for creating an messed up dynamic he was creating between myself, his wife, and his son.

I thougth t myself... ok... this is interesting. Well, we are building friendship - that went over OK, let's keep going.

FASTforward>>>

It has been a couple of weeks since what occured above. It's now May 14, and Morgan and I haven't seen each other so much recently. Although, he did pick up a copy of I don't Want to talk about It and we are going to meet once a week to talk about it. (Excuse the wordage)

That's good. But now that it looks like were going to meet, and it is slowly looking like I'm going to have a reading and growth partner - something has to be taken away. What's the something you might wonder?
Well, on the weekend, Morgan promised to pick up Phoenix and Stinkapee (something that has been prearranged for awhile now) and take them, and his son, to their martial arts class. He told me that he'd by watching a soccer game, and then would pick them up. He never came. Moreover, he never mentioned it to Phoenix when he saw them again - TODAY - and did not bring it up when I spoke to him on the phone. I did. When I brought it up - he said to me: the game went into overtime and so, he stayed. HE also said that he and his son didn't end up going after all.

Interestingly, his behaviour as I type this reminds me a lot of myself and how I would deal with DD, early in our relationship. I was convinced I was doing a lot, and in fact, in some ways I was. But that didn't cancel out all the missed up stuff I did with negiotating it b4 hand.

How did I understand myself in building with DD? I'm not saying the relationship is the same as Morgan. But, all fustration with Morgan aside, what is all of this making me remember about how I treated DD earlier on, and even up to now.

Their are some links to be made. For example, I was pretty clear with Morgan about what I want out of a solid man friend. One of my criteria was making sure Stinkapee and the people in her life - are for her safety, growth and development. He damn well should have left that game to follow thru on the promise he made.

I would have done that for his son.

But, look around my blog. I should go back and read all the different places I renegated on my promises to DD...

More later... Stinkapee is coming in the house... and I gotta put her down - sorry for the typeOs

SCABOBLARS! i hit a crucial point today...

Today was an incredible day in many ways. It was a day that I will remember for along time. I told my counsellor about my grandmother's close friend, Sadie who chased me around in her house when I was visiting the West Indies. She would try and succeed in catching me and fonddling my testicles which she dubbed: my scaboblars.

At my counsellor, I told her. She was horrified. A little boy - age 8, being touched by an 70 year elder. Imagine, reverse the gender - and make it an 8 year girl, whose boundaries were being crossed my a 70 year man. Sounds horrible eh?

I started to describe what would happen and how I even found myself in the caribbean island. I was sent their because my parents, didn't know how to deal with their son being abused and terrorized by another son.

Little did they know, I was being fondled 'in the sun' in my safe space. Donna, my counsellor said to me - Seminalson, what are you thinking and feeling right now...

I started down an incredible path... join me...

THINGS ARE MOVINGfor the most part...

I don't think I've done nearly enough crying because I feel full of tension, fear, and general "oh no - someone's gonna find out" - find out what? Well, it's not about finding out something. It just childhood stuff.
I'm getting ready to go see my counsellor and I remembering yesterday when I had mini-melt down which looked like me starting to care less, and less about myself. It was me replaying home life in Monrovia, were no one talked (in fact no one does) and I was sometimes too uncomfortable/ scared to ... but when I look at some of the memories that have come up for me since I last posted - I'm not surprised.

First, I was sitting and talking with Pheonix in the kitchen. I was talking about my family, and remembered that my when I was growing up - on one of the trips to the Caribbean my folks would send me on to get me away from my brother (instead of dealing with him) that I had been abused. My grandmother's good friend, who was around 70-75 at the time used to chase me around (I was around 8 or 9, or 10 or 13) and grab my testicles. She would say: "i'm gonna get your scaboblars boy!, I'm gonna get them"

I actually laughed when I remembered. I thought, now that's silly, isn't it. But it's not silly. It's fucked up. I have to go now... many layers to this.. and I'm going to write more on how I'm dealing with this in really healthy ways...

WHAT DO YOU DO WHEN YOU GET A HEADACHE WHEN YOU SEE YOUR MOTHERinvite her over again of course...

You know, some would say that i'm lucky. I at least have the pleasure of knowing that my parents didn't actually know what they were doing when they raised me. Didn't have a clue, emotionally - of how to take care of children.

Pleasure, I mean, in that my mother (Bel) admits this freely now - a switch from the the usually - I was just doing the best that I could..." OR the classic - well you have kids, lets see how they turn out. The latter is really is hard to hear - it shuts down all conversation, leaves now space for anything.

Ok, so moving past that now, Bel still does cause me headache. My head burst with a thrubbing pain on the left side when she and her sister came over to the house the other day. Thankfully, I had spoken with my partner days b4, and she advised me to only to have Bel and her sister. Not, Grave (my father) too. As I tell my stinkapee many times... he's sleeping.

MY BEHAVIOURS ARE ALL FROM THEM, not new info, BUT I KEEP DOING IT... Spin cycle - wash... soap... spin.. spin...

Ok, I'm gonna talk about home now...