Two things that seem related, but are.

Have you ever wish you could un-see something you've seen? For me it is wishing that I wouldn't have ever heard a certain song. I happened upon this song I listened to and loved often during the bad-feeling time and certainly associated with a specific relationship. It brought back a visceral, deep, dark feeling of that time, those people. I sat through it. I felt that sitting through it and feeling the pain one more time, maybe this time it would pass. As the song ended and the pain attached itself like a caboose to the beautiful trailing notes, I went to turn the music off. As I did an unexpected song started playing. "Graceland" by Paul Simon started bouncing along, reminding me immediately of my own exodus from the bad-feeling time as I made my way to Tennessee. Interestingly enough I found out that the artist of the bad-feeling song I had wanted to never hear actually died in Memphis. Coincidence? Yeah, totally. But it does give me pause to think that it would have been very neat and organized of that higher being that my bad-feeling time died just as I was received into Graceland.

An honest Inquiry to the Father.

This is one of the most profound songs I've ever come across. "You Found Me" by the Fray asked what my soul has been yearning to know in the years since my mother's death. Questions of 'why' and insinuations of theft of love ones and abandonment; there are too many emotions involved in grief to expect faith to linger. Now songs, I would like to believe, are open for interpretation and I think the Fray, although their own personal motives for this song may be similar, would be happy that I found something so real in their product. Those of you who love and know this song should take another look at the lyrics.

It's a conversation between a man/woman and God. The Fray, apart from the quotation marks indicating the first two lines, leaves the rest of the lyrics un-authored. During my first vague listenings I assumed it was a conversation going back and forth between these two people. Then, in a later listening when one of the men demanded "Where were you when everything was falling apart?" I decided that the whole song apart from the scoffed "Ask anything", was actually the man or woman pleading for answers, blaming God for abandonment, cursing Him for taking everything that made him who he was. That alone was truly emotional because I knew that I had been in and would frequently wander back to those feelings of deep despair. However, as I listened to that song again and again, a different side slowly emerged from the simple pleading lyrics. What if all the questions were really from the God character? Please read the lyrics below, or listen to the song with this in mind. It has changed forever the perspective I hold of my relationship and responsibilty in that relationship to our Father.

I found God on the corner of 1st and Amistad
Where the West was all but won
All alone, smoking his last cigarette
I said, "Where you been?" He said, "Ask anything"

Where were you when everything was falling apart?
All my days were spent by the telephone that never rang
And all I needed was a call that never came
To the corner of 1st and Amistad

Lost and insecure, you found me, you found me
Lying on the floor surrounded, surrounded
Why'd you have to wait? Where were you? Where were you?
Just a little late, you found me, you found me

But in the end everyone ends up alone
Losing her, the only one who's ever known
Who I am, who I'm not and who I wanna be
No way to know how long she will be next to me

Lost and insecure, you found me, you found me
Lying on the floor surrounded, surrounded
Why'd you have to wait? Where were you? Where were you?
Just a little late, you found me, you found me!

The early morning, the city breaks
And I've been calling for years and years and years and years
And you never left me no messages
You never sent me no letters
You got some kind of nerve taking all I want!

Lost and insecure, you found me, you found me
Lying on the floor, where were you? Where were you?

Lost and insecure, you found me, you found me
Lying on the floor surrounded, surrounded
Why'd you have to wait? Where were you? Where were you?
Just a little late, you found me, you found me!

Why'd you have to wait to find me, to find me?

The #1

It's the Big Mac meal. I was nostalgically pondering this phenomenon while I was munching on my favorite artery blocking sandwich when I realized the significance of my love of this food. When I was little and our family would visit my maternal grandparents, the height of the trip would be our grandfather taking us out to fastfood. Coming from a family of 10, this was a rare occurance in itself, but to reiterate the importance of going to McDonalds I remember in the sixth grade when we were asked if we were stranded on a desert island and we had to eat one food for the rest of our lives, mine was the McDonald's cheesburger. It was happy meals during those younger years, but you knew you had reached adulthood when you were allowed to order your first Big Mac meal. A rite of passage that few understand as they look at my calorie soaked meal with disdain. What was your bar/bat mitvah oh ye yuppies? Your first Sega Genesis? Air Jordans? Easybake oven?? Well, you see, my rite has lived on and I can literally relive that feeling of pride and comfort of becoming an adult every time I take a bite of my juicy two beef patty with a sesame bun, lettuce, pickle, onion and special sauce. So I will endure criticism, because deep down I know that my rite is special, my rite is unique, and my rite is very, very tasty.

What I've lost:

mom
youth
innocence
dreams
me


Will find:

mother
wisdom
responsibility
strength
myself

God


not yet though, still working on it. But I will hate Christmas until I do.

My Hamburgered Heart

The pinnacle of my poetry...thus far. Maybe I should write childrens books

Once in grade school, the 4th grade I think, the teacher brought a cow's heart to show us.
A real one, still cold from the fridgerator where it had been preserved.
That smooth heavy heart, complete with valves and veins and stuff...
We were told it was to be made into hamburger, and I believed it, but tried not to think too much about it.


When I met you my heart was made into hamburger.
I imagine one of those wine presses where the employees or owners or whatever,
They get into the vat of grapes and stomp and stomp and stomp.
You got your jollies off of squishing your toes through my hamburgered heart.
Me in that vat, I was rare and red and alive from the pain of being so mutilated.
But it felt good, kind of like when you exacerbate a sore so it won't hurt as much after you've pushed your pain levels to the maximum...

But you had to go home at the end of the day, a human wine-press has to sleep.
Really unfortunate, because my heart was left unrefridgerated that night.
Bacterias, what I always imagined looked like those little candy nerds, but smaller,
They came and started chewing on me...it itched at first, but then they started really eating.
I guess I didn't mind 'cause it was pain and reminded me I was alive.
But they started pooping where they ate.

You came back the next day for another stomp in the vat.
You didn't know about my new friends yet, although you did wonder why maybe I wasn't as red and raw as the day before.
I vicariously felt your pleasure as your toes squished some more, and you kind of knew that you were squishing through my hamburgered heart, but I allowed it, and you liked it.
But another day ended and you had to go to sleep.

Those wooden vats on stilts don't keep meat very well.
My bacterias were procreating, eating and pooping all in that vat with me, the nerve.
I started to smell and I think I was starting to die.
When you came back you noticed that I didn't smell right, but you stomped some more, not wanting to hurt my feelings by admitting I smelled.
Um, my heart was already hamburgered you moron.

The day after that, you brought a clothespin t0 clip on your nose.
It was embarrassing, the fact that I smelled and everyday you came fresh from sleep, from the shower, from life.
What had I done to my heart!?
You can't shower hamburger.
But you assured me that you still loved most of me, it was only a certain part that you couldn't stand, but that clothespin solved all our problems.

And it did.
Until the day I threatened to infect you with my friends...the bacterias of course.
You were having none of that.
I was falling apart anyways. You can only squish hamburger so many times before it becomes something more like puree, and that's gross.

Too bad I didn't hamburger my heart for a chef...or even someone with an electric grill.
I could have been fried up when I was fresh
Garnished with tomatoes and lettuce, a mustard smiley face adorning my own.
Consumed by that one, becoming quite literally part of him.
I would have gotten to stay safe and unharmed in the muscles of his arms or something!
Both of us keeping the other one alive....

Instead, I hamburgered my heart and put it in a vat for you to squish your toes through.
That was a pretty stupid move.
But it might not have mattered anyway...I don't think they made that cow's heart into hamburger after we all touched it,
They probably just threw it away.

Given Away

I gave.
You took
It was my problem
Of wanting more than I could get


Thought that me the little girl had gotten past all that


I gave.
You said
It was my problem
That bleeding hearts were unattractive


So I offered my body instead


I gave.
You left
It was my problem
For giving you something I know you didn't want


me

Can't google the future.

Sometimes...I just get the urge to google who my future husband will be. I don't really know how to explain this, but I think it has to do with at any given time wanting to know almost anything I don't already, turning to google for assistance. Seriously, this method of finding out my path in life has crossed my mind at least 4-5 times in the last half a year. Some of those times were checking on facebook, like a person search...then I realize I don't know his name...or what he looks like...and that I most likely haven't met him yet. I understand this is really weird, but it makes me realize what affect computers have truly had on my life, its not really the same as searching "black cocktail dress sleeves" and clicking images to see my options...



On a less creepy note, I'm starting this thing with this new guy. One may have noticed the less-than-bitter first paragraph and thought that something is up, well it is. It's just nice being respected...and being seen...instead of idolized, ignored or abused. Its only been a short time, but I've had more in common, more talking, more respect and comparatively less making out than all my previous "boyfriends" combined! And he's damn cute and really funny!! I'm almost uncomfortable with the healthiness of it, like obese people who've let themselves go and have to exercise or they'll die...I need this or I think I would have self-destructed beyond repair, but it's still slightly disconcerting to feel good; hopefully this feeling will not stick around too long. Still I think this relationship will present its own challenges along the way given some of our contrasts in age, background, and place in school. It's ok though, like I said, so nice. Thanks boy :)