Exhaustion

everyday...from my work...with what I do...it doesn't get easier...it's harder.

I was asked today, why do I do what I do, why don't I move on, get a better, easier job.

The truth is, I feel I make a difference. Teachers with experience move on, do easier. But, there are too many good kids who get lost in the shuffle. Whose needs are not met.

I do this job because I can, and I do it well.

"The Great Disruption"

so our economy is failing....

the environment will not support life as we know it, perhaps within our children's lifetime....

kids have no motiviation, not because of drugs, but because of.....

Have we reached the place in time where "both Mother Nature and Father Greed have hit the wall at once -- [The Great Disruption]"*

to much capitalism. the need for more and the wanton waste of everything that comes with that need. i see it in the trash cans that i walk by everyday. so much garbage. so, so much garbage that everyone throws away. if it doesn't work, throw it away, why fix it. buy it, then never use it, throw it away when you are tired of looking at it. the clothes, omg, the clothes that clog our closets. the stuff that is in our houses. look around, look around at all the crap in your house.

it has to STOP, all of this.

It's late, I have work to do for my job, and I've put it off so many days...I just don't know, don't care what to write for the eval.

Reading back through this blog, I wonder... was it me that really wrote this?  I mean, it's freaking amazing.

Can I really add to the conversation on/of life?  Will I? More the question.

Friends you find,,,,, (Drafted 02/09/12)

my friend Alex came to see me yesterday. and then tonight i drove by the place where i last saw him. you know we only spent just a few minutes together really or so it seemed, but, i don't know... how do you explain that feeling when you are with someone and you just have "THAT" feeling? you know the one, where you can almost complete each other sentences because you can relate to their thoughts so well. just that real easy, warm blanket comfort of sharing time with someone that for whatever reason you connect.


05/18/16 -- I didn't know how important Alex would become in my life when I wrote this seven years ago.  Thank you Alex for being there for me when I needed you the most.  I love you.

Day 2372

I stumbled on this blog today while looking for something else.  I can't believe all the minutes, days, and years of passing since I began my journey.

Reflecting back to when I left Idaho on June 6, 2005, I feel like a Phoenix risen from the ashes.  Divine wisdom, internal knowing, peace within.  Don't get me wrong, it's a struggle between heaven and hell inside my head all the time.  Coming back to center, finding peace is easier and easier as the days flow by.  Letting go of anything is never easy.  One step backward and two steps forward.

I am definitely a wanderer.  And, it is true what they say about not all that wonder are lost. I am not lost, I am discovering.   It's a universal truth discoveries are made by questioning answers.  Questions drive consciousness, more importantly the flow to no questioning.  At some point that has become second nature awareness.  To be present, to understand what you are feeling at each moment.

I am just coming out of a very dark period of confusion.  A failed relationship that I had belief would be more than what it was.  My little dog of sixteen years passed.  Within the struggle of understanding all of that, somehow my clarity is more acute.   Or so it seems.

The thing about life, is not knowing until you know.

I am awake, but my soul is still sleeping in your heart. ~ Mariana Fulger

The Conversation you ask...

(i am not a fantastic speller or have the inate actuation of punctuaion....get used to it)

nic refered to all that is written as the converstion before us. and that is what it is. in my college english classes, where in masses we studied the "CLASSICS" my questions to each and every teacher is "WHAT IS IT THAT DEAMS IT A CLASSIC" how are we to tell now what will last forever. why in the world does e.e. cummings ...(i love how nothing is ever capitialized!!!!!!!!!!!!) why did everything HE every write last to be studied to this day. (btw, by reading his poems and sonnet, i have always perceived him to be a woman, not a man, hmmm)

and yet back to the conversation...

Reminiscent commentary of personal experiences


As I stood there letting my dad’s angry voice flow over and past me on the wind, the reflection on the day old snow held my attention. It looked as if the sun had glazed the snow into a smooth and creamy sugar treat. I could feel the heat from the rays of the sun, as the tepid air caressed my face. The earth was still cold, draining the energy from my toes and making them feel pain from the true temperature. As I shifted my weight, trying not to think of the cold or my father’s curses, I became aware of another car approaching us on this isolated road.




Synopsis –my mother was a drunk, my father unemotional, i become a unit in a transient family, settling in LA,almost drowning in the culture of drugs and free will, travling back and forth to the midwest in what we call now a custody agreement, and then finding myself in my 40’s a school teacher, searching for karma, happiness, contentment, knowledge.

This is like reading the end of the book isn't it...

Day 105

So, I thought about creating post by back blogging, but that wouldn't have been fair to you or me.

I should have been journalling and creating along the trip and I have and have not......

Transition is such a different thing between each individual and their journey. Some thrive, some stress, some can not sync until all is settled. I feel I am a little of each of these, as we all are a part of each other, sharing the same likes and differences.

Not long ago I read a book, imagine that, me reading a book, I know....

"Tweak, Growing up on Meth" by Nic Sheff... If you haven't read it, give it a whirl. It spoke to me as a book hasn't in a really long time.

I have never been a writer, nor claimed to be one ever. Although, at one time in my younger years I yearned to write, write a book on the level of "Gone With the Wind" I think all readers have this within them. At some point in my life I decided, I was just a reader and not a writer.

Back to Nic Sheff and "Tweak.." at the age of 14, I as the opening lines of tweak proclaim, guzzled whiskey without a care or residual effect.... there are so many things about my life that I often take for granted, as if, everyone experienced what I did.

I can remember reading the definition for "Dysfunctional Family" for the first time...i have the most funtioning dysfunctional family that one could ever imagine.

If one were to actually read, the Epilogue and notes at the end of Tweak, I surmounted the reason why I am hesititant to expose all that is within me and write as free as one could.

For what lays within me, is connected to all others, and to expose to myself and my indescrepancies, in itself will expose interactions with all those around me.

Is it fair? Perhaps, my perspective, does not sync with theirs....and yet I have the audacity to put as perspective to each situation as if it were fact.

With that said....

There is still the voice inside me that chooses to add to the conversation...