From "The Year of the Monkey"


The more i talked to her, the more i knew why drugs was all she had, all she wanted, but I saw in her the hope for more, the innocense that she had come through with.
I looked at her but i was in a good mood so the contempt brewing for her stayed in the back bedroom- besides we were sitting on the couch, neutral territory.We live in a two bedroom.there is her room and down the hall is mine.My window faces the parking lot and hers the road.Her's is fenced with bars.with both bedroom doors open i have a clear shot of her at all times. All though its pretty funny, this was her place before i came.
I tried to pass her the weed I was smoking, she declined.
"what this drug isn't hard enough for you?"-
ah the games we play as tho i am just a room mate and she is here out of choice.
but in leui of the game i offer it to her.
The contempt was bristling but the weed made me chill. she was perched there next to me looking wistfully out the window, she had good bone structure but i could see the sharpness that meth had cut into her jawline.
She was taking her time answering the same way she played chess. She looks back at me before returning her gaze to the window as though the sunlight was all that she could bare to look at.
I resisted the temptation this time to spit on the carpet while she found her tongue-
No -she finally answers.
i hated it when she shrugged but now she knew better than to shrug with me, but she would have if she thought she could get away with it.
I sucked on the pipe, a long drag to to communicate my contemplative and relaxed mood- maybe then she would come back from where ever she was escaping to in her mind. I knew she was trying to write me off but what the bird didn't know yet is that I don't get written off.
Jesus! all that time to come up with a simple fucking No, She irritated me but she made me curious all the same and THAT tweaked the shit out of me.
Yeah but actually she looks pretty chill today at least, i can FIX that.
when she gets chill like this its hard to get to her, its like no one's even fucking home. This is probably how she is when...- no doubt she fucks guys for money i decide.
I'm thinking all of this when she turns back to me and gives me the full wide open depth of her eyes. Like a girl, but she's actually 22. I can tell she had thought about something beautiful because the light was back in her eyes, its like she took the sun into her face before she turned back to me on the verge of sharing something with me. Probably some fucking butterfly epiphany type of shit before she cocks her head and as if deciding against it reaches for a cigarette instead.
Was it my face? Because whatever bullshit she dreamed up she was keeping it to herself.
But i was feeling generous so i would allow her this, besides i would get to the bottom of it.and if its hope i'll smash it. hope i've found has made her unpredictable in the last weeks.HOPE has an intolerable effect.when she hopes then she starts to think theres somewhere else to be.
but- She is so easy to read. i knew today i would have to pry very easy because she was full of GHB all tho-not to much. good and fuckable later.but enough to give her the confidence to do something stupid all the same. i'll have my eye on her.
I'm to smart to let her know I HAVE to know what she thinks about me, besides she believes no one understands her anyway- but i do well enough.
and I don't need to know- I've got all of her already.
She's here and even she knows she's not getting out of here alive.
i pat my 9mm reasuringly-a gesture in case she forgets. i never forget anything. im running the show.. Its a game we play.like that This is her house. My laugh has no voice. sarcasm bites but the 9 is wedged between us and between her and the door. I've just arranged to have her car picked up and dismembered. She wont have to think twice when like she gets a wild hair to try and leave again. Long ago i had all the copies of all the keys to anything she owns replicated. If she had played it cool and been mindful of who was in charge i wouldnt have to do this to her now you know. i couldnt help but pity her.

Here i told her- SMOKE THIS.
Naw I'm alright Geno, she says in a cool voice.
I'm chill geno, its cool- thanks...
she starts to get up from the couch putting the one leg she had drawn her up to her chest towards the floor, one lotus foot reaching almost to the ground.
She moves with precision and I know she's thinking each each move out but before she makes contact with the ground I grab for her wrist but not as tight as I want to.
WHERE are you going?
she smiled and said lightly as if it were a joke- Dont worry Geno, I'm coming back.
I wasn't worried i told her but you better not be going into my room.
I wanted to let her know who was still in control.Under no uncertain terms is she to forget just who is in charge.im not one of her boyfriends.
she had wanted away from me and i knew it too- but she was so good at playing innocent that it might have been true. Maybe she was just thirsty. As though to reassure me she got out the ice cubes in the kitchen and made a loud crack on the counter looking over the bar at me, already two glasses in hand.
So what do you want Geno?
What IS there?
she rattles on... There's some OJ and...
she opens the refrigerator , bends over hiking her ass in the air, she's trying to be cute. But there is no game happening despite what she might think because I already know she's going to be in my room tonight regardless.
And lets see- there is only one coke though?
she's talking again. i want to laugh. she had bought the cokes herself but she didn't come home last night and waltzed in this morning when her faggot boyfriend Gabe dropped her off.
we can share it then i said.
No- she starts and then finishes with a plea- but i want to save the rest for later, I just bought all of those and there's just that one left and...I'm probably not gonna be able to leave tonight -
its funny to know i make her whine.
like she can leave?hello?
I cut her off- I'll get more I lied, split it and bring it here NOW.
she closes the refrigerator with her knee and is juggling the two glasses and the coke. Why didn't the cunt just pour it in the kitchen but then i see that she's trying to serve me and shows me that they are both equal while she pours it in front of me.
thats half each she quips- how cute. stupid slag.
JESUS its so easy to control her.
Come and sit down HERE.
i put the pipe down but first she begins trying to clean up the weed scattered over her coffee table before she will get comfortable again.
i put my feet on it.
Don't worry about that right now I said- come and SIT.
she looks at me from across the table. I know she's considering disobeying me because while she's thinking about how to do that in a sneaky way she's going through the ashtray picking out the longest butts. Ha, she's out of cigerettes again.equals more control.i love it.im the one that emptied her carton.
I open my pack and i light one up. long drag to show her how much i enjoy it.
she's ignoring me and reaching for my lighter MY lighter. this is a battle of wills.
I'm disgusted. DON'T touch that!
YOU have to ask first.
Calmly she looks at me again, STILL on the floor across from me and she sincs back down on her knees
and asks flatly for my lighter to light the butt she found.
Sure but you better find one of your own stubbs because thats a menthol your holding and I KNOW YOU didn't put it out.
She closes her eyes. I count to three. She's looking at the floor again, I can tell she's searching for a way to deal with this and she's being VERY careful.
I'm in a good mood so I tell her for the last time -
Get off the floor and come sit on the furniture. Thats what you got if for right monkey?
Im the only one that calls her monkey.she hates it.
Monkey see monkey do. monkey I'll be the one to tell you just what to monkey fucking do.
She plops down next to me.I throw a cigarette onto her lap.
Thanks.
she looks at me and finally she turns her body towards me.
Long drag and she lets it out slowly. I've got her frazzled for sure
I can tell by the way her eyes dart around the room and the smoke lingers around her because she's monitoring her breathing.
Is she doing that meditation shit she told me about with the cigarette???
i'm determined to break it up.

All the coke in this house got smoked or drank last night while you were gone- yours AND mine,
i laughed.
She doesn't.
Bitch why aren't you laughing but i don't say it out loud.
I'm bored and I dont want her hiding in her room all day all fucking day.
OD'ing on GHB, me with no way of knowing it because all she does in that fucking room is write and play her suicide music barely above a whisper.

---------------


In the cushions between us I see the spiral binding of her diary. i pull it out.
She looks at me open mouthed as though thinking about protesting.
I laugh and then so does SHE.
We're sharing a moment of irony- she knows and I KNOW
she can't do shit about it.she knows im fully prepared to take anything she owns and in fact i have.
but why is that suddenly funny to the bitch?
Her mouth doesn't move but her face says:
GO AHEAD GENO, WHAT ARE YOU GOING TO DO NOW?
defiance.

she's turned fully to me now, brighter, sitting up straighter.
she WANTS me to read it, i can tell.
her lips are parted and she lets me see her tongue running behind her teeth.
Its like she's baiting me, daring me.
She's actually trying to unnerve me.
I don't care what you write or if you write about me! i yell at her but im not unnerved.
im not unnerved not even when she says-
who said you were special anyway geno?
she laughs and takes her journal back from my upraised hand.
No one else does either is what she's trying to tell me and it pisses me off that she's trying to act like she doesn't care either!
I can read you I say deadly serious. I don't need your little book.
Your so confident Geno- she smiles, calls me cute and leans in close to me reaching towards the ashtray i don't extend to her and ashes nonchalantly. then leans back against the couch arm and brings her knees back up to her chest looking at me expectantly.
I HATE these conversations with her.
she'll pay for it later- its cool.
keep daring me bitch i say to myself. just keep it up.
I can tell she wants to.

(okay so this piece is still very rough- i havent edited anything on it yet.so the dialogues and the tenses im still playing with.its the opening to geno's perspective.he is an ameture killer and the only true megolomaniac ive ever met. starbucks is closing.hv2finish later)

My lease is over at the end of feb.which means big changes. No not the superficial kind I've made since my return like from one loft into just another bigger loft or from one car to a better one. i mean the kind of change that reflects who i am. the kind that threatens to wake up the sleeping lion within once and for all.

I've had to clean up alot of issues since Ive been back in texas.but im not talking about those kinds either. all of this is trivial next to the ones im now putting into motion.whatever i felt i had to prove has been proven.Its easy to see looking back on it how devoid it was of what my soul was trying to attain.I knew what all along is the irony of this. Have you ever had to do something knowing that in and of itself the harvest would be empty but yet to pass thru it was everything?
Just as i was ready to leave the next thing would presents itself in the guise of an opportunity always with the promise to put my name to something thus giving validation to the family that perceived no worth. at a certain point one has ask themselves just where the hell is one going.my direction is certainly not toward more sports car. so i wont be vague. where the hell am i going right?IF YOUR READING THIS then i trust that YOU FELT SOMETHING IN ME from the beginning that penetrated deeper than the bullshit I've fed energy into in the last year.(examps of the above materialism).YOUR READING THIS BECAUSE you saw something into the heart of me that was beyond these petty priorities i placed as merits in my field of achievements.dear friend, you were right.your vision was clear and what you glimpsed of me was real.i had to come back to that just as much as i had to stray from the real end to see how precious the path was..

My little secret here thats been baracading me from the door of passage is simple. pain killers. well it wasnt so much a secret was it? anyone that knew me and cared.. had to know. from the outside i looked like i was keeping it well together. but you know- I've never given to much of a shit about what people from the outside thought.except for here.in texas where the ghosts have not yet been laid to rest anymore than the family scandals which are haunting us still,enacting their revenge on us in our inabilities to face the graves we dug below the carpet where my exile was swept under.all for this one area have i saved care.In my guilt since his death i found pain killers.in my aunts she found alcohol.in my other uncle's guilt who with my aunt found the body is now addicted to heroine. i came back here and i got everything my family didnt think i could ever get material wise because it was perhaps what i believed was the only thing i could get in revenge.to survive.so maybe i should say that i've been angry that i still care what they think. No i dont mean my parents. their around. i mean the ones that made impressions on me. those ones. im still excommunicated. im not discounting my little cousins. their around -sort of. im talking about the ones that raised me. i got things to where they looked like i was together(from a DISTANCE at least)- but inside.. oh that was different. For awhile i floated by on grace. meaning everything i had done from the previous 3years inner work. my time at esalen, my time in indonesia. My time of living out loud. doing the hard stuff.while i knew this then only im knowing it now in a different way- its the only kind of work that pays off. Some people are content with their lifes so long as they see progress in one way. lets face it, Im likely never going to be one of those people and NO i wouldn't change it. Not for all the tea in china. the question that consumes me now is this : what does living out loud for Tara look like now? That for me is what the pay off is about.

Recently i got an ultimatum. by the man i love.i'll get into the ultimatum later. for now lets just say that ultimatums will never work with me and so this ultimatum mirrored the one i gave myself in the very moment i realized what error i had just done& that is the ONLY reason it can work.and ooohh how i love him. let me tell you the moment of the twin ultimatums- i got a big wake up call when i didnt realize it was his birthday. even that day i had sent him texts about how i wished him the best day ever. and i really did mean it. but in my jacked up head i thought that his birthday was two days later.not tuesday but thursday. well i was wrong. it was in fact tuesday. shit. a little illustration of how The old me would have had a calendar in front of me making my dollar goal forecasts up until the end of the week and known what day it was and since i dont lie i had no choice but to come clean. NO i didnt realize it was your birthday. ahhh it may have burned me to say as much as it burned him to hear. sometime during november- okay it was my birthday i got super pissed when no one remembered my special day(except for him) HE called me at 2am on the night of halloween to tell me all the reasons why he loved me.. i got to thinking how many rents i had helped pay,how many "jobs" i had given people so that they wouldn't have to pay me back, how many phones i had in my name(3) so that others would have phones that this SEEMINGLY involuntary shift happened inside me.i guess you could say i took out my little score card which unbeknownst to me i guess i had been keeping and i went- wtf?? i tore up novembers calendar and said fuck it. the two words i hate the most in this world and the kinds of attitudes i hate most are the fuck it attitudes. i should know because i used to have one. But somewhere in the mix of my time in returning to the states im going to have to call myself out i must have developed one or i wouldnt be having to make such drastic changes.

In the vein of drastic changes i have come up with at least 5 different schemes to get myself anywhere but here.away from the ghosts, guilt and the suffering being played out. this is a testimony to how desperate i've been to get out of texas.Its ranged anywhere from going to school in new york-to going back to esalen-to going back to indonesia- to paying off everything i own to make it really mine and to dj-ing.i even invested over 4,500 bucks in dj equipment. The thing is the things that we resist persist. if you think im preaching to you well im not- no im preaching to me. I went into this with my eyes wide open in one sense but with my eyes wide shut in another. i dont want to blame my family. i dont want to blame anyone. and once again im going to try to be honest here. i've found that in so many ways i DO blame them. and the blaming is false. its irrelevant.what has been the constant here? okay i'll tell you..

The only constant in this thats real- is the deep desire to keep transforming pain and of course love into a work of art. so with that i have my writing. and next to that i have the only other thing thats solid. i have the ability to inquire. as hard as it is to look inside i've got that on my side. i will look. and i can admit. i can face anything. here is the problem.in some ways i ought to be glad its this simple. addiction. there you have it.

Years ago i came away from the hard stuff but then i came across the more managable ones. the ones that make the happy little housewives always smiling and ready to bring the cookies to soccer practice.My uncle used to say that the only way that you could fence a racehorse was to put the race horse on opiates so he'd be to stoned to fight.stoned enough to live in the pen.then the ones that are borne to race and know no bounds can live within the bounds but only if self medicated.My anger comes from knowing what i dont want. i know that i cant live with that.if your a racehorse and you enclose yourself in a pen, the act of the self betrayal is intolerable. you want to talk about pain? pain is when we KNOW we arent living in accordance with our deepest nature yet find ways to perceive the limits as bearable, manageable, livable, even when we know its a crock of shit.the anger is that we find ways to keep living in the pen.a true racehorse, a true rebel knows when he/she isnt living up to that.most addicts are like that you see. they are those racehorses born to break limits, to tear down the walls and reflect the enduring spirits of those who refuse to live within walls which for them is a tomb.they are the ones who by merit of their actions when in their highest accordance of self invite those still asleep to wake up. those are the true rebels.not the addict enslaved.The lament is that so many borne rebels find their escape in life in an enclosed pasture medicated thru drugs transforming only their natures into that of consumeristic cattle who graze contentedly upon the comforts of middle america or dull sleepy camels who wake up to starbucks talking shop or love of power around a suit and tie convention.

in my case- heroine is what killed my uncle.so its never been an option well not even before i knew for sure what killed him. yes i know i believed it was ketamine that took him up till a year of his death. another testament to how deep excommunication runs. i wasnt allowed to even know how the man that helped raise me died and its not on public record.death certificate ammended. ha no one is the wiser right? well.. i thought he had quit the junk prior to his passing.little did i know.. i had some romantic idea that he had died on a quest to find some new unexplored realm of the psyche thru his beloved psychadelics. not so.on april fools day of 08 i found out different well isnt that just synchronistic? happy april fools. the one yr anniversary of his death. it took one full revolution round the sun for that tidbit to find its way into my life. a little cosmic joke from the universe. Fortunately I've been down that road already many years ago so i didnt need to find out that it was specifically heroine that killed rudy to know that it would indescriminately take my life too- but i found something else to kill the pain. something "safer" more managable and infinately more expensive.something that didnt kill rudy.something to assauge my guilt that maybe my family was right for blaming me that i had killed him indirectly all the way from asia. entirely betraying my life's potential and his too by choosing complacency over what it really means to embrace life TO FEEL. i would say i chose that drug over the harder ones for alot of reasons. one being obviously the grudge i carry that heroine stole the last breath my uncle ever took. i want to blame heroine for what poisoned his mind in those last years of his life. The one that stole the lenses which he percieved me through and encouraged him in his unhealthier pursuits. so its not just my family i've wanted to blame. oh no. i wanted to exonerate the actions of my uncle in his last years as well.I've been just as deeply invested in that preservation of him as i have been in showing the rest of the tribe that i didnt need them.the ones who caste me out in their investments to preserve his memory as well as blame me.There was a time when i needed to keep some part of what he taught me healthy and whole-i realize now it wasnt really to protect HIS memory it was to protect the memory that i had of him because all the way until i was a teen ager my uncle had been my hero.I should know nothing is ever black and white. not people and not even love.

The ultimatum? running out of time here i better get to the point. The ultimatum was inspired when i realized that when i had chosen to love- to remain and not to run- i couldnt stay blissed out and be present not for me and certainly not for him. To see that in fact thats what i wanted most was to stop running from those i could love that i was in obliterating all the boundaries. Not showing up for him on his birthday was the final call for alcohol so to speak only its not alcohol im referring to. I've made the steps now.Of course its not for him that im choosing to do this again. Its for me because i cant live with myself knowing that i've willfully chosen to live in a pen. i know who i am in my heart. Im a race horse.he fell in love with the racer in me. the lion. now its my turn.i wont let it be in vain.just know that its begun.all of my dreams.. they arent on hold so much as they are recognized now as seeds.i'll be entering back into my human growth and awareness institutes.getting clean is easy. its the part after and thats what im making the way clear for now. the success of actualization. i dont know what its going to look like when i've finished reorganizing. i know only this. Being a fearful person is something i knew as a child. I had good reasons then maybe.But now im an adult. I dont need to look on the bottle to know how im going to feel.

Sadness is a passage like grieving.i recognize that someone like me cant afford to be afraid. i know only that ill be grieving the rest of my life if i dont live in my highest accordance.im entering into the fire now. this is transformation. i hope that he's still standing when i make it through entirely to the other side. And if he's not i can live with that too.The greatest gifts anyone has given me during this time has been to remind me of what i already knew was inside me.The only other thing i know is that i've done all i can to lay the bones of texas to rest.I've tried to bring us all back together and i forgive myself that we couldnt.all is forgiven when the fires of sobriety have purified. so if your reading this then you may well be one of the people receiving a letter for that part of the 12 steps. For all those beautiful people that i met while i was in texas. there have been alot of reasons why i didnt show up for you in the ways that i wanted. i just want you to know that it wasnt because i didnt care. maybe i cared to much. i was just to ... fragile at the time to risk exposure. and it was probably wise in some cases. but soon you will probably hear from me. and the person who first started this journey will be cleansed on the other side.i promise i will be more of me when its over. until then i've got only one dream despite whatever ive said. and it wont be until then that i contact you again.

my blessings on for all of us who desire to wake up and get out of our own way.
and bless me if your reading this and dont lose faith in the race horses of this world. we're all trying to break free of something and out of the shadows we caste confusing it for the totality of who we are.im no different. just know im inquiring again. its only just begun.

thank you for seeing our sameness from the get go.

I cant sleep.
yet restlessness is the furtherest place i find myself in-
instead im nestled in the softest sheets in the earth- my own bed, safe here in my own little loft-
and oh its beautiful-ive made it such a home this one.. finally
it seems that for once since ive been back to the states that im opening my doors again,
oh im selective enough still i cant erase the past and never would I
selectivity has served me well.. and settling in to somewhere is really just settling in here
like in these covers, like this laptop settled on my lap- its all here and my aloneness like restlessness is the furtherest description i would give it
i would say that its more like coming home.

what brought this thought about?
recently i fell into "deep appreciation" i would call it. yes i used the word love at the time with someone maybe 8 weeks ago. and i would still use that description today. recently i mean only weeks later i came across his myspace- JUST MARRIED and a personal message that he didnt have my number to tell me. not surprising to me, 2nd time this time back in the states ive come across something like this feeling- a testimony to true appreciation true love if you will..

Im happy for him, and i expressed that to him as soon as i got the message. he thanked me for preparing him or showing him how to truly love.something along those lines he said to me. i think i was the stepping stone. stones are solid. its not a bad thing to be a stone. and we met at just the right time and passed into each other the very thing we were supposed to gift each other with. For me to hear that he was so suddenly married was validation. i knew i had done the right thing by breaking it off- almost to me in hindsight, i think he was so ready for that it could have been me- it could have been many ppl for him even. he was ready for commitment.
you know i wont say that i dont invite love, because i do- oh do i ever. yet i know, i dont need to need- because i know that i will have it, the one for me.. my aloneness is not lonely. its filled with a knowing that i dont have to do anything. i dont have to search for the one and there is no rush. what will be will be and love is in my cards.i bless everyday. the months before this were tinged with an inner despair, it wasnt about not having that person that was going to give me a vacation from myself in the words of an old lover, its knowing that love is available.i wouldnt trade that in for a thousand flings for all the tea in china. i bless each one of my lovers, for every time they looked into my eyes, for every time they gave audience to every thought and expression in my soul. for every time i could give them that back. even for the stepping stone i could have been for them.
stillness, quietness, the need for less words has finally come about again. and im enjoying it immensely. this time here with myself. my door is open for those that can rest in the stillness with me..
seeing my oh so brief guy who had whole heartedly wanted to marry ME only weeks before he met a new girl and married her has given me something. its hard to put my finger on it..i

f in less than a week he was ready to be married ro me and then in less than that i was smoothing back into friendship and in three weeks later he has tied the knot it shows me how much i am different from that..the trust i had in my decision not to fall into infatuation- i want to fall in love with THE person not an ideal of them and certainly not for the sake of not being alone.. dont get me wrong- infatuations are most fun.. i think what this is is that im reflecting on my discernment process and appreciating it. i guess what im saying is i can fully appreciate the love of infatuation and i dont have to buy into it- and why the haste? i love to be swept off my feet, carried down a river and when the ride slows i like to stand hand in hand at the shore and look forward into the sun.. a poor metaphor perhaps that i will blame on my 5 am blog in lack of sleep.but you see the shore is the pause! where the breath happens, truth arises. at least i have found that to be the case. i appreciate the ride but what about the shore part kody i want to say to him- as a friend.. but i wont. i wouldnt dare, we are after all friends. im going to throw rice and flowers and support love at first sight for the sheer sake that perhaps it does happen. and who am i to doubt it. so of course ill never voice this to him.


its a good feeling. it shows me something vital me. its a readiness. no no im not talking about marriage. im talking about LOVE. the ability to channel that through me. unobstructed.. because its the person that inspired my love that i must love because how can love do anything but bring me closer to the fullness of myself.
im ready for the love that doesnt bind and yet is greater than the sum of its parts alone. i dont need to just have someone waking up beside me...which is i guess what i think kody wanted and called love. i want something different than that. the waking up together part is a beautiful bonus. its late. but i wanted to post because this is gratitude speaking and im compelled to give gratitude voice. thank you universe for showing me- for sending me the lovers that you have. for those that made my capacity to love even greater.. and even for the lovers that gave me tears. if anything i miss the lover who had inspired my tears.. the rivers that carve the valleys in my soul. i learned only a few years ago that tears of happiness run much deeper than scars crevices..

and if im not making sense- i apologize to none. i SOOO no what i mean. to all my lovers- i save these words for myself but each of you have blessed me and im sending that to you tonight. and if the time is right- may we cross paths again and for those not yet come, i know there is no urgency, we will meet. and for those without a lover wishing they had one, my sister my brother who ever you are, i wish i could send you my joy, this aloneness that is so filled with self that there is no room for emptiness or despair. i would remind myself and to anyone i could that it is that fullness that we offer to another. god.. thank you for my cup whose fullness i am so keenly aware of. send love to those i love and have loved. espeically to those who may even have broken hearts because i know a few who may have some right now-
may our meetings and our partings be sweet. im not just speaking for myself right now either. i mean it for us all in this world..

so in response to k's text to me thank you for preparing him, i should send a text thanking him for reflection he gave me- ill leave it at that. lol joyfully warm in my bed signing off into sleep
tara

somebody said life is something happening while we're busy making plans

i dont spell check
i measure time in air miles but im not running anymore

update? oh yeah
no sooner had i posted the entry about black shepherd and my family did i hear from my aunt.
once to me she was the goddess incarnate
i came back to the states estranged from the ones that raised me back in my mothers house
what a journey
that was...

in the last few weeks something new began to emerge
i moved into a bigger loft- double the square footage- concrete floors and a beautiful terrace filled with my plants filled with newness.. im even mending things with my aunt.
i never realized the well of hurt that had been there within me- ostracism of the tribe was once a death sentance
as a little girl being passed from home to home my female hero was ayla from clan of the cave bear
and in kindergarden my favorite story was " the little match girl"

many countries and many air miles later the things i loved as a little girl, my heros, they are still the same
the rest is completely different.. my dreams are so much bigger.
i dont regret a thing thats happened. there are things of course i wish i had tried different
for ex. the courage to tell someone that i loved him.
if i would have done that.. but if i had he might he flown even farther..
and maybe he might not have it. maybe we would still be measuring air miles together..

ah my heart be still.
in all of this my faith has remained alive. i can write from many perspectives. this is the place where i write from the main me i identify with-
the little match stick girl is still there and so is ayla the first human raised by neandertals
and i still identify with both of them.
what did i come here to say?
that life has been so busy? NO.
recently i found out that my best friend from childhood monty has the virus.
he is gay and an avid drug user of the worse kind- he wont settle for the softer drugs like vici's-
no, he's intent upon his self destruction.
and while i have been there before, second chances come only when we invite them
kind of like love, the newness can only come when we hold out both hands and unclench those fists of regret.

and so here i sit reviewing my life, this precious life that within all of us that happens to us in this blink of an eye and i thank god that i am not under a death sentence like monty.
i thank god that i have loved who i have loved and even those who are dying or who have already died,
i thank the goddess for their roles in my life. each one of those beautiful lights sent to remind me of something yet unmanifest within myself.
when i found out monty had the virus, you could say that i had more than myself to pray for again.
it was like when i was working in the prison in bali and i had my boys to think about-
all of my little self imposed inflictions seemed so inconsequential...

love can live even in a desert- change the way you look at things and the things you look at change.
so suddenly i started to look again. so i never told him i loved him and i couldnt bear to play second fiddle even with the opportunity extended. it seemed a disservice to both he and i-
i wanted to give him grace and i wanted to touch grace myself.
looking back i know in my heart that we did all of those things. its been 7 months since ive seen him. he has another and you know.. i can be happy for him.


i have had another relationship since- he cannot be happy for my happiness now that we arent together and yet he is convinced that it was love that brought him to those conclusions. i know the difference. i was shown another way. and my past lover, brief as he was, my star that burned as bright as the dawn, he offered me healing. while i received it, he also showed me how afraid i was.. afraid to let go and announce love. i wanted to give him all of myself and when he whispered those words of intimacy in my ear, my heart was so full.. so full and i wanted so bad to believe he was saying i want all of you- for you to be all mine..
but the crazy thing is i never asked what he was saying. im not even sure what he said. the muffled whispering of ecstatic bliss in one anothers ear but i wanted to be his playground oh that is certain. yet where was my courage?? what if he had said something entirely different and in my joy i blurted out the thing that would make him fun from me? what if he had said something as simple as you feel so good??

i look back into the past alot. writing unburdens me, reminds me of what burdens me now. ive almost never written about him because grace is sacred. and what is sacred cant almost be talked about. but i will say this: i wont make that mistake again. i only wish that i could tell him thank you for what he showed me-
my star.
my angel.

its 8 am here and ive been up dreaming- looking into film schools, reading screen plays written by famous people and wondering what kind of edge they need to get such a thing done-
everything has changed in the last few weeks and months.
two deaths later, one panic attack since, one trip to jail overnight and im fully recovered.
fear has faded and while my life still doesnt look the way it did in bali, its looking like mine again.
and ive settled into it- my life in the states.

my lease is over in 7 months or so- where will i be going next? school has been calling me- keeps me up in the middle of the night. i want to pay this sports car off- sell it and move on. now that my aunt and i are talking again and i have sent her this box of letters from my uncle i feel like i have done a huge part of what i came here to do in texas..
the ending of a contract making way for my new ones.
to all my loves and loves not yet realized or met- im on my way.

tara

sooo.. after re reading my last post i have to say..
yep that feels good.
its good to be back on, back to my writing. and its good to say what i have to say. in the last entry i was directing that towards my family. needless to say there is obvious tension there. we dont speak and havent for years. so when i found out that they had discovered this site i felt my writing style get a bit cramped.
for the record, i love my family yet we dont talk.
since my family started reading this.. i chose to say what i said for me since i have no other way to say it to them- the message to them?simply that i wont stop writing.
this is definately not the place i wanted to say those things but then again, how else to say it when there are no open lines for communication.
at least just once i will have said how i felt.
thats worth all the airing of dirty laundry. i really dont care to much what people think but for the sake of clarity i thought it was a good side note to add how it came to be just why in the midst of what is more or less supposed to be a positive blog comes this- warning almost.
having said it, i feel i can go back to posting the positive. i feel in fact more inclined now to invite in the positive.
there are of course other people that i invited to read this blog as a way to stay in touch, but i stopped, now everyone knows why at least.
mystery solved. family scandal partially aired due to default you might say.

so what else would i say today?
I've been back in contact with all of my ppl from esalen. well not ALL but enough for comfort. i think the re-occuring theme must be in my life that i am either simply a passionate traveler or a really good runner. both are true enough.
movement is change and change is measured for some people by air miles. i am definately in that category. so for my next dissapearing act i will do will be with solid CLOSURE to mark the occasion and i will bear my "commited to closure" self back in healthy condition to big sur CA
my worst fear came over the last couple of years. i couldnt decide whether the fear was staying long enough in one place to put down roots or bearing w the possibility that i might not be putting my steps in every direction possible thus missing out on even one direction i might have taken.
the sagitarius in me sighs and laughs. it appears its my rising sign? my dark moon or something like that. apparently i am supposed to be fiercely independent which is also true enough. being a scorpio i guess i am INTENSELY fond of travel and movement not just sort of INCLINED to do it i simply MUST do it. i must MOVE.
people tell me how blessed i am to have traveled the way that i have.
for whatever complaining that i do.. which i do compelled as i am in texas to take on the attitudes of so many of my texan brethren.. i know that this is true.travely blessed.
wait let me say that different.. its not texas itself. texas actually like anywhere has some wonderful people and some wonderful power spots- of course right?
austin is amazing. it reminds me of a southern san fran just a bit. the mentality that is.
corpus christi? well something tells me it was beautiful i was there only long enough to make passionate love for 2 days and write with my scarf flying about my neck on the windy shores of its downtown beach area.. but i could tell with out seeing much of it that- it was special.
san antonio- oh river walk of romance be still my heart i still dream of you!and as yet my phantom lover only walks with me in san antonio on some distant day of tomorrow not yet come,
downtown dallas? I've written by its skyline to many a morning and night to not love it and shed a tear in my eye for its towering stoic southern solidness
you see its not that i snub my nose at texas- no not at all i just have issues with my own history here. its quite a thing to experience the self so divided.
being a seeker, i am seeking wholeness on every level. its hard for me to be in a place where the choices i make or am inclined to make reflect my divided spirit and not a healed one.
so texas is an old lament which i would rather leave behind.
when i leave this time, i want it to be different. as i write these words the idea comes to me that each time that i have lived somewhere- to all the places that i have traveled which have been many far and wide, it seems that my measured steps were always in relation to this place somehow. you see that is where i identify the problem. its hard to be anywhere when the distance one measures oneself is how far one is AWAY from another place. because then it truly is running.
so even when i ran to the jungle, it was only a more quiet texas in my heart that i found.we cant NOT carry the past with us as they say. my task here this time has been all along to lay the bones and skeletons of this place to rest. SIMPLY so that where ever i am i feel free to be.
i read a wall post on facebook from one of my loves of indo- josh
the man that taught me how to look in my lovers eyes for the first time and NOT RUN
he said- you left in a whirl wind when you left bali,
and when i think back on it thats not the first time a lover has told me something like THAT about some place that i left. and it may not be the last.
what else is there to do in life but to look within, regroup and be reminded of all that which we observe in ourselves?
the very things that we do which present themselves in ALL that we do.
so i could say that i have spent 4 years or so running away from texas and what i came back with was knowing that- its still here and i wont bother leaving again until i have laid what it is that needs laying to rest. on that day i will reward myself with another flight. so in other words i better write this book.
i cant write when im running. i have to learn to be still. so texas has been my teacher no matter where i have run off to. texas and all that it holds.
since i have pledged to keep writing so i have.
my meanderings for the day may not be finished but for the moment on this site i am.
i have more work to compose of another sort.
may all beings be happy- may all beings shine- may none forget that it is their right to express- and may everyone find the forgiveness within that it takes to be who they are in all places- and may all of us find the inner validation to dare to be so bold as to actually live themselves as a VERB.
all my relations- tara

Im here at star bucks in east texas, in the background is the beating of the bongo drums. For a moment i can believe just for a second that i am back home in california, breathing in the beat. Sometimes i am so nostalgic i have to try to remember to be HERE now. the voices that carry over that constant beating brings me closer to something like ackowledgment
once again its time to move on,i always get nostalgic in light of these moments. and i always find something momentous like bongos etc to mark the occasion. i am a romantic at heart surely.
the ending of a lease
the beginning of a new one
another year
another season
more drums, more passing moments, esalen, california i am nearly home.
i stayed here for a year already.
this is so unlike star bucks
here in east texas there is no where for the kids to go so they take their gifts here and so in honor like a blessing i have to write- to say thank you
for long my creative flow has been coming in great manic bursts yet it stays inside me
in the pages of my journal and i have been so afraid to loose what i keep dear in my heart and hold it to the light of exposure but i know that i have to try again- i have to free the silence that keeps my words to myself. i have to give them back again. i cant pick up where i left off. i have to start where now is, there is no use anymore in looking back.
this novel- its time has come
the words of what they are singing in the back ground.." time to come home to the mountain"
how synchronistic
goddess yes i am listening.I think i saved up my tears for nearly over a year
now they want to come
my fingers fly over this key board the way my feet would over the dance floor if i was back in the mountains of big sur at esalen.i can smell the phantom sprays of sea salt
.. they sing- to the mountain
he is dying to save her.. let the whole world see.. let the whole world see
voices in unision
i send my silent thanks to the heart beat by ackowledging my own
take a breath
but i wont stop writing this time, not for anyone and i wont grant my family silence anymore. i went last back to california and i have brought back with me my long kept documentary works.and rudys confessions. my god i never thought it would take me so long to get back but it did. now i am on fire again. perhaps big sur and i are on the similiar frequencies.
im posting this unsure as yet of what i will say i only know that its the action of posting again. you see, i learned that the family i have no contact with anymore checks these pages and refusing their judgement i have kept my words to myself unwilling to GIVE them anything to go from.
they dont want me to write my book. and i have held onto what i would say for far to long. so im posting again. i will write the good the bad the ugly-
and goddess it has at times been so ugly
but i have kept the good to myself as well
my private beautiful secrets of love and discovery but .. i wont do that anymore
i would surface only long enough to let them see my success
let them know of my first publication but it was with spite and for that im sorry
i have let resentment build and my resentment will be at myself for as long as i will myself NOT to write.
since i ran to asia the last time i nearly went underground you could say. i kept my work in my note books. i kept my very existence a secret from the whole of everyone i loved. no one even knew where i was and i saw this site as a way for them to know so i kept what was most important a secret.and it would have seemed that my work at the prison validated the secrecy i kept around my life in indonesia.one might say i had a very worthy reason for not writing online. i refused to write online anymore.
im beginning my book with the beginning of my new life. the way that it started.
my uncle didnt die from ketamine overdose as i said before. he died from heroine.
the beloved husband, uncle, brother, family practice doctor and psychadelic guru was not at all what he seemed perhaps. like everyone there was so much more to be said for what others saw, how he lived his life.
Im telling his story just as i am telling my own. in the writing of "BLack Shepherds Sheep" i have come to discover just how much of my own story i have confused with his. having compounded the family scandals of our history with having no one to tell this story to it has made it all the more difficult to expose-
all tho writing it was ever difficult i have begun to peice it together. i no longer offer apologies to anyone for the truth of what has been done, who has perished in the making of this tale, nor to anyone that lived through it, nor will i apologize for writing it EVER AGAIN
maybe i should begin with that.
strength cannot be drawn from a cess pool of stagnation, over the table lines and under the table lies.
to my family.. truth has a ring to it which cannot be denied. it SOUNDS different. you can listen with whatever ear or lense you care to hear or see through.i have lost my investment with what your investment might be.
i could have organized this thing months ago yet i didnt want to deliver it with such bitterness.this is where i find my investment now only. in staying commited to telling the TRUTH. Ours is a story with so much bitterness already. untill i could find the creative edge that defined it with forgiveness and redemption i wasn't willing to have held to the light, intuiting that it couldn't stand on its own any better their your accusations against me have been able to stand on their own. and having said that last statement you can imagine how much of what i have to say must be inspected just so that i didn't deliver a defense in my behalf-
nor do i want to deliver a defense in my uncles memory.i will not declare saints nor crucify those that are. in my tale there are no human saints.
in writing Black Shepherd i have had to look inside as never before.
i have never taken on a more important piece to put ink to, never has anything meant more to me, never will my loyalty to who and what be put more into question. since this family has entirely disowned me and even my father as well for speaking up FOR me.. needless to say, ill emphasize the obvious anyway- it has helped me not to check where my loyalty should be. it would seem that you all helped to decide it for me.
when i say that i am sorry, it is only for the hurt that we all endured under the guidance of our mutual entanglement in what was to come, for rudy had lost much of his light in his dark meanderings skirting the edges of social and family boundaries as well he knows by now im sure. I dont believe that death is the end.
i will tell you that we are perhaps not so different. i had to rewrite and rewrite and rewrite this thing because in the beginning it was hard to stop defining myself AGAINST you. we are of one blood. i know you all well and it is why my passcodes that you all tried to corrupt are reminders of that.
i sit here writing this to you unsure of what would come. i read my declarations to you and declare them twice thus. my prayer is that i remain authentic. and when i say that i say that knowing i would never consciously lie yet i fear what it is inside all of us that has twisted our hearts against each other so viciously..
i would put truth in the light where judgement and exile has been declared and i have to be willing to SEE beyond pain. reaching for inspiration in the dark of night can go many ways. unfortunately i have come to learn that despite the romance of lilacs and lace, fairies and magic, we dont always come away with the truth under a moon lit path to salvation.sometimes the moons lunacy whispers to us and its easy to create delusions in what in context sounds like a prophecy.its so easy to be seduced with what appears to be THE ultimate answer. its that which i hope to see beyond. i will to see more than what validates my identity. i will to see more than that which ties me to my wounds. and if i dont do it right then i offer no inspiration. that is my greatest fear.(offering less than inspiration) so now that i have come to this conclusion i feel free to continue to write- purged of the unrest that tinges bitterness and blame.
now that it is no longer LOVE IN VEIN
it is love without apology and love alone. and in my love there is no protection from truth. i dont wish to shade myself in conveniant conclusions either.
if defiance slips in know that it is not my intention to write to smite you
and when i catch it, i will rewrite it again and again as i have done so much.
i believe in the strength of love. despite what has happened danna, despite that i held you above all others i wont look to the proof that lies all around us for the answer. the desimation of our family.

Im running on reserve battery so i will end this now..
for the time i have said enough.
i will return back to california when this piece is finished once and for all.Black Shepherd will say everything that i couldn't say to you all. The time for stalling is over. i can also end this with thank you. because had you ever given me a look a word or a moment to the floor since my uncles death i might not have written or surely wouldn't have had inside what it took to do it. the motivation might have been less. i needed to lose my entire family perhaps.

until my next entry which is sure in coming
until then
i am working in dallas on organization of this manuscript all tho i wont be posting it here.

had he had his way i might have died for us both at one time. a

My last entry was about Rudy. Tri spiral. Overdose of ketamine. a family practice doctor and my best friend. my beloved psychadelic guru uncle that raised me. the man that raised me and taught me forgiveness... in his death i have found peace. in his death i have found liberation. one day i will stand bold enough and tell the whole story...
I fled the country for various reasons all of which passed with tri spiral. i cannot be taken now. i am free.
I will remain elusive about alot of this- for now its ... like a baby not yet ready to be held to the light. but my knowing is growing like the moon full in my belly... the story is being nurtured as i nurture myself and others.. there is no haste and no urgency.. there is only that which is on its way.
however, i feel it im on the verge and fear is being replaced by excitement and a certain knowing that the time is near to tell it all...

But for now my only job is this: to continue to evolve and experience.
this is some of what describes my experience since my life in indonesia working with the my death row inmates in bali and my hidden existence from my family in indonesia.
im laughing. laughing because there is nothing left to hide this time truly. rudy rudy my angel you took it all with you and i am free. and im laughing now all the more that i dont even care anymore who can swallow the tale thats about to be spun. With all my drama and talk of secret lives... and how dramatic it all sounds.. more laughter, true as it is i cant even take myself seriously- its over now. What wants to come from me now at every given moment is this sharing that none of us- none of us have to apologize for who we are or what we've done. and i'venever truly truly gotten this part before until now. and everyone and all that i encounter is only further proofe that divinity is a constant download that I cant be un-plugged from.

more laughter-
more joy-
more and more and all is one with this everythingness

these are some of the pages of my journal which i will put down now:

July 09, 2007
inspired after watching millionaires place thousand dollar bets at the craps table. the day i rolled the dice wrong and pissed the whole table off at me. i retreated to the room they give to the high rollers and withdrew to write- this is what came to mind

Here within lies the heart of a bird
the life of a kitten before euthenasion
and we are longing to be tigers
meek as lambs
yet how we scrapple within packs for crumbs
where judgement could be exchanged for compassion
yet we bargain at the price of a penny
hiding the emperors and empresses of who we are behind rags of the decadently accesorized ego
a shining of gold in the outstretched palm of a beggar gleams
unseen by the hordes of those who walk upright in their gilded pride
of eccentric gambling and fanciful lust for power
In the garden where seeds of priveledge were planted
instead has been sown the ivy leaugues of entitlement
and the authentic estate of man kind lies unclaimed in our souls
the inheritance of creation/creators set aside and undeclared
traded blindly for steads to mount into battles
that do not even exist save in the minds of those riders who thunder forth
believing glory is a road paved atop the esteem of our fellow brothers

August 2nd 2007
the peice that preceeded the melt down that liberated change again

The music has no charm- and i have selective hearing
i turn the switch every song before its had a chance to end
my frustration knows only the limits of its medicated prison-
what furys i once believed would bear its leash and choke me have lost their threat
i cock my head to wonder: why do i still use??
The days are lazy its intensity peaked only slightly when the overhead is punctuated by the low rumbles that have persisted throughout this texas summer.

One more deep breath before one more deep dive, i submerge-
eyes open but the water doesnt burn them this time, i look around
kick, shimmy down inching closer to the darkness near the bottom
blinking i wonder what is their to discover this time?
I look back to the surface... its not to late.

thoughts of california, Indonesia, Esalen, my life, my tribe, where every door is open- i call their names and promise to come home again. Tara.. they warn..

I havent gone to far yet. i still know who i am. Im swimming in a midst of accusations and assumptions- dare i believe what they say about me? The family that caste me out. I have to get home across the country across the globe. i cry because they never knew me and then i die because i care.


August 04, 2007
inspired when i talked to one of my boys in the prison. he didnt want me to get to close this time. i wrote this for him. however mine is a soundless voice that i put to pen only here for him.

There are times when the darkness is so great that there seems naught to do but surrender to the blackness abounding while our fears gather, massing about the coasts that contain the ocean of the sorrows we dwell within- yet afar we sense the lanterns of fishermen. with them the bearers of light as they come to us and how we struggle for nay we say- this shadow of pain is of our own terrain. shielding ourselves we steal away our location so that we may not be discovered by them, ashamed as we are by the hollow reflections of what we have perceived ourselves as once to be.

And while the ships sent forth by our own hands fueled by past ambitions (those that have robbed our experience of freedom) have long ago sunk- we tarry within their walls still submerged. and no revelation has been inspired to assert to us that we too may be as jonah waiting as did he swallowed deep in the belly of the whale. Nay the release nor the dawning of hope of freedom have we given breath to. Immersed beneath the cargo of our blinded will to success when once we dared to dream.. we cherish the very idea that overcame our sail and deny the kiss of awakening extended..

I am a ghost that would haunt my sunken ships
Nay he said to me, i am no jonah though i breath the fetid bile of the creature that has enveloped me. i see the lights of those who search for me beneath the rippling surface where i gaze out. Hate has replaced hope where once i would have met you before, for love cannot exist within the caverns i have so painfully carved, the light you caste is but a dancing flame dimmed by the deep inken blue through which i see, tis merely a torment and the very lament you cry which draws from me the vanquishing i lay upon your call to me.
Even so- alongside such contempt as i have born for your enduring search i would not bind you in the face of such loyalty to the doom of my once proud sunken prow condemned to rot as i see is fit.
I say to you: meddle else where and leave me be.

and he asked himself: Is it the glory of the of the flag that once sailed that you seek to attach yourself to or is it innocense that weaves the lines you caste down to me?

August 19th 2007
this peice wanted to be called the: Hypothetical He

And so he asked me what i liked to write about and i wanted to tell him that my shit is dark. Words for me are shadow puppets acting out a drama, their strings manipulated behind the curtain where OZ is mastermind...
And where i find myself is somwhere above and beyond seeking to bring my creations to life
like pinochio i am a story teller, weaver
following my nose to the scents and pheromones of my reciprocals
the law of attraction manifested through the churnings of desire-
and so we spoke of passion, my passion for words
and i am to the scribe a priestess mimicking the words of prophets diving channels
and my words like my creations dont belong to me
I am merely the vessel open to that which wishes to be expressed thru me

And so we spoke of a growing and i felt the moon full in my belly in that moment
the place inside where i would take him in to wash thru us
the tides in the wake of unspent awakened need to release-
and my hands were searching over me as though they belonged to another
and my body before me stretched out was wholly unfamiliar
and i saw myself as i willed him to see me
and in that moment.. i was beautiful

The words of my teachers, past, present, and future merged with the words
that formed in the eye of my mind, a message of life
and she said to me: this breath this oxygen is proofe of the universe's
celebration enacted thru you
and so i yielded
giving rise to the swelling in my lungs, i gave myself over... pouring out
the force that passed between my lips
wind and wave together
and i whispered to him my lover from across the way
this
this is the place from whence comes the birthing of creation... ;)

Patty Cline is on the over head speaker. Im sitting in a wireless cafe in indonesia right now. Im aware that this will be one of my last nights here. Ive been in Asia now since my second to last post. something like october 06..
Time passes here like no where else for me. There are no weekends, just a string of days that blend one into the other. Indonesias heat is puctuated with a rainy season but there is no turning of the leaves to mark the pass from summer to autumn or accumulation that reminds one that winter has covered the ground with the last leaves of fall and says we are entering into the preceder of spring again. No here there is the hot tropical acid rain and intense equator sun rays. dont get me wrong, i am not complaining, i am in the eternal summer land it would seem to me. What brings me home is the death of the one that raised me. Rudy. trispiral. so there is a sadness to this parting.. Im going to brave the land of my birth again. back to my family scandal rooted past of texas.. Rudy sent me here to asia. And now i am sending me home again.. it isnt possible to run. We bring it all with us no matter where we are. well, this is yet another new beginning. and with this one my mother knows that i live and breathe and i will even see her again. Its been a long time. now that im returning home, im sure ill be posting alot more.. so, this is hello again to you. and for bali this is good bye. until next posting. may all beings be happy.

As I had said before that i would make my way eastbound so I have.
No one could have told me things that i would have become involved in once my arrival was made. But such is life. Its easy for me here to forget my life back home. Even forget the family that i was borne to. Sometimes they email me and they inquire as to where I am. Even my beloved Esalen tribe. But times are strange for me and I am even sometimes as a stranger to myself. I give no information regarding my new life nor even where I have made my home. I do not say to them- Family I am as far away as you can imagine. I hopped the first flight I booked the first available flight to asia at one am and left within two days notice i gave to everyone that knows and loves me.. that is except my family.

People look at me funny when they find that out about me. your family doesnt know where you are. and i shake my head as though it is the most normal thing in the world. no they dont have a clue.
I keep my dreams as hidden as the lock nest monster. and sometimes just sometimes some hint of what is churning beneath the surface of my frenetic make up makes an appearance. It is often as mysterious to me as it to my friends. Only just a few months ago i thought i had a direction but suddenly that seems to have been slipped from under me.

/Users/tarahillman/Desktop/Photo 15.jpg

This is for dreamedillusion:

I haven't updated this site in what seems to be forever-
so much has happened since i took off to asia-
As it is I've landed in Bali, passed through a few neighboring countries around indonesia, and found myself in Bkk but hey- not my scene- So I'm here in Bali. Have alot to write about but it seems the privacy of the work that I'm doing now here needs to be protected all though i long to talk about it.
My experiences are so rich with the expanding of my heart-
but i wanted to tell you dear one- that the reason I'm writing right now is to let you know that when one person notices us- it just takes one to show up for me, and then i remember gratitude.
For whatever you found in my writing that made you add me as a friend-
thank you sister. i think i needed to be appreciated tonight.
I'm so tired- this pic shows it too-
but you engaged my heart, your own writing engaged my heart and i appreciate the honesty in your work and that you would read mine.

I think I'm going to have to start reaching back out to cyber space- you cued me and i thank you.

love,
tara