There's A Voice, Keeps On Calling Me...

Next June I am off to the States for a bit, supposedly to work as a fine/graffiti artist at Tattoolapalooza in Miami but the more I explore this the more I get invited to alternative places.

My trip really should start where it ended 17 years ago when I got sent home in disgrace from Camp Wakatomika in Columbus, Ohio for, well, let's just say I tried the local 'erb.

So from Ohio, I should go to Miami for 4 or so days, then I have invites from Kentucky, Ontario, Seattle, possibly LA (but not sure wether it was an invitation or suggestion) New Orleans, East Bay, New Mexico.... You see what I mean?

Ohio is was a must, to see the old partner in crime of days past and maybe take someone up on an offer of a movie / meal / tattoo / kayaking (tho I don't know white water)...(what does an 'American date' entail?)

I would love to say LA is a must but I don't know, well meant politeness but not really meant? And so I fear it will be useless and damn lonely there.

But my problem is how to connect all these places, flying, amtrack or greyhound (is that right for rail and bus) and whether anyone would want to join me for any of the voyage...

Answers on a postcard to The Littlest Hobo

Every Sound Monotone, Every Colour Monochrome...

...and unless someone spells things out to me in no uncertain terms I am very unlikely to act on anything.
Put it this way, there are two guys on my friends list on a certain Facemyspazzbook who I think are really cool. If they said 'Jump' I would ask 'How high?' with one eyebrow raised and a semi smirk on my face (to be fair I'd be trying to look slightly seductive, yet failing at the first hurdle. Understand also, I never say how high to anyone or anything )

I would give you examples but there are things I like to keep close to my chest. Ask me about my life as a kid, my family or anything else and I'll spill, but ask my more about this and I won't reply.

So you see, I just sit on the sidelines and watch the world go by with my lucid dreams and crazy imagination where the girl gets the guy and things are OK, for now. I think it's safe to say that people always have and always will see me as a 'quirky little sister' figure, sadly. Little do they know huh?

In other news:
I have a stalkery kind of person in my life, totally harmless (ATM) but constantly going on about their dick, how they are hung (Like a black man apparently), how it always gets hard looking at pics of me on SG (I figured that was kinda the idea, along with those who simply can appreciate the naked form in all it's glory) and whilst trying to get me respond to sex crazed nonsensical messages where demons take him over causing him to scream whilst 'giving it' to me. He has read every single blog entry I have made on SG dating back to 2004... he has also read various other blogs and is happy to quote them to me as if I were to jump into his arms so happy that someone is taking an interest. I have standards. He is also the biggest fucking wind up going and for some reason it gets my back up and I need to argue back. This isn't like me, I don't give a monkeys if people fuck with me usually but I do in this particular case.

It's been years since I was aware anyone was into me so with it comes a sense of flattery. However this kind will not get you anywhere. Remember kids, this girl, beneath her nice and calm exterior lies a trained killer in the ilk of Mathilda Lando, You had to survive in my family, with my brother and with my friends where I grew up, and through this I've learnt a trick or 12 ;)

Move along folks. Ain't nothing to see here...

Tomorrow I am 35.
This is in no way a problem in itself but is bringing me problems due to many other reasons. Firstly the date, 9/11 for which I have a double meaning tattoo. I feel wrong celebrating while there are memorial programmes on TV.

I fell out with my brother a few months ago. Well to be honest I saw a re-emergence of his true colours rearing their ugly heads when we were on a family holiday last year. His wife and son were there but from the get go things weren't good. His attitude and mood were horrible and he was his usual argumentative self.
The room was no good as it had tiles on a floor, a toddler could fall and hurt themselves. There was no baby pool. Reason after reason kept coming and brought with it a dark mood.

Then his true form came out. He argued badly with his wife on night and they fell out. I missed all the tension at first as I had gone off with my dad somewhere and when we met up again with everyone else you could quite clearly cut the tension with a knife.

Al stormed off taking Carlos with him.

From the early evening Al just got angrier, thrusted Carlos to me, and in amongst all the anger Carlos was crying out for his dad and Al just turned his back on him whilst refusing his paternity.

These events started out to be the beginning of the end of my relationship with Al. We never got on as kids, at any age. He was always volatile, always beating me up at school, holding me off the ground by my neck. Always going for the biggest weak spot in my body, my chest which due to a childhood heart condition as well as chronic asthma was just a stupid place to kick out at.

After taking a couple of heavy beatings in my late teens, once while trying to 'step in' on the fact he was going to lay out my best friend (whom he was dating at the time) and the other when he kicked me in the chest down the stairs and carried on with his fists. I left home. My folks weren't doing anything to help and anything I said fell on deaf ears as usual. My mum just downed her bottles of gin or whatever the fuck she was drinking and hiding all whilst hiding anything Al did from my dad to avoid conflict. In doing this his whole life she created a monster in Al.

We started talking again when I was in my late 20's. His volatile nature hadn't subsided but by then I realised that I could simply walk away at any time. My relationship with them all [my family] was on my terms. I made the move to go and see them in London when I wanted and they didn't make the hour drive to see me unless I asked them to. At the end of the day a perfect relationship.

Recently I made the 'error' of standing up to Al, not taking his crap even online and speaking out at him when he comes into my online domain and launches a barrage of abuse at me for all to see. I will not bow down to his moods and I sure as hell won't keep things quiet for the sake of a quiet life like my mum asks. But in doing so the relationship between me and my mum has disintegrated into nothing and we haven't spoken or had any contact at all for a few months now, maybe more, I lose track. The last contact I had with her was her rant of an email informing me she is giving me some money and that I shouldn't contact her again all the while sticking up for my bro, although said in not such a nice way.

I say 'error' as in doing all this, in having enough of their madness, I have lost contact with my dad. He won't respond to phone messages, text messages or emails from me. The worst part is losing touch with the boy genius, Carlos Alberto. Gaby and Carlos do not live with Al, mainly due to the reasons explained above, and so they live the other side of the road with my folks. Any way you put it though I am not welcome and so I can't see Carlos, the kid I travelled to Argentina with, the kid I sat on a bus for 28 hours straight with, the kid who calls me 'Tia' and that is the only thing for which my heart bleeds.

And so back to the point in question, my birthday. Not celebrated for 9 years now and it isn't going to be celebrated this year either. My best friend is out in the Oman desert until next year and my family are [for the time being] strangers to me. Another friend is going to the Festival of Speed on a whim and I have just about given up even thinking about it.

So move along folks, nothing to see here. Definitely no sign of a birthday or any form of celebration but I'm cool with that.

The Memories Are Now Sepia

When I hear about people's first memories they generally are funny or about the things toddlers do and say, maybe swearing or eating worms. The things I remember are all coloured sepia and again, not quite the usual.
I can't remember dates and to be honest I don't know what order my memories go in as with a lot of things in my family, they are not talked about.

So I spent a great deal of time in hospital when I was younger as I was born with a heart murmur. If you look back to my previous posting you'll remember that my Pa was in the Army, so that makes me an Army brat. I do remember that any treatment I had for both my heart murmur and my asthma was always in military hospitals, one of which was located near Aldershot in Surrey I believe.

I remember watching Playschool there on a little TV with about 3 other kids. Toast that the nurses had put butter on (I refused dairy back in the day. Not much changed now though) Waking up each night screaming but being comforted by a man in khaki scrubs and being played Pink Floyd's 'Echoes'
I can't remember anything else, any operations or treatment. And again, it's something the family won't talk about.

My other great pre school memory is the near death experience I had when I was about the same age, in some part of the world were clothes would make you sweat and overheat. I remember clearly falling into a pool and being face down with my arms and legs seemingly dangling and everything was coloured in shades of sepia. I'm told (for once) that a young man dived into save me and I wasn't breathing, that the parents had taken their eyes off of the metaphorical ball, and that with a bit of persuasion and kneading of the body I was breathing again, all in a matter of moments, and no doubt within the hour I was running around like a little nutter again.

But everything was calm and sepia. That is clearly imprinted into my memory

Induction into madness

Ten years ago just gone I was officially diagnosed with Bipolar after fighting a running battle to be kept out of hospital due to racing random thoughts and the feeling I need to either run or hide away from the world in general. I also was unable to string a coherent sentence together.
Ten years down the line the racing random thoughts are still there. I still feel the occasional need to hide myself from the world and have learnt to lie pretty convincingly to everyone that I'm OK. I am OK. I am not OK.
I am lonely truth be told. But I don't really want company or someone there 24/7.

When I was very little my dad would disappear into the hugeness that is the world. He lived in Philly when I was about 3 leaving my mum sobbing quietly. He would disappear a lot like that when I was a kid. One moment be there and the next he'd be gone. It's only with age and experience that I can understand what he may have been experiencing. He's a war Vet. Fought in Ireland (Belfast) in the 70's and got hurt pretty badly. fought in the Falklands... He refuses point blank to talk about his experiences to the point he will get up and walk out of the room if Belfast is even mentioned.

I honestly believe he suffered post traumatic stress disorder which over the years, having gone untreated (or even recognised for so many years) has turned into a black depression. His mum, my nan, also went through a lot of  'hospitals' and had a serious amount of brutal treatment via 'doctors' so I strongly believe the bipolar thing is only to be expected really.

But I live with it, I sometimes embrace it for all it's weird and wackiness and sometimes, in the deepest darkest depths of winter I hate it. I have found that if I say the randomness that is on my mind I can usually make people laugh a lot. The flip side of that is feeling overly sad by things, the state of humanity, the lack of compassion, the death of a sense of community, but I do what I can and try to live with karma in mind. Being important is nice but being nice is important.