- The final self-censorship
- for all, free
Hello there, mother. How are you feeling today? I don’t mean that in a short, meaningless, making polite conversation way. You know fully well I don’t do that. Never have, very well anyway. But I digress. What I mean is, please, at this very moment, do a quick head-to-toe scan/refresher/energetic cleansing. Like a zipper, run from the root to the crown, from the tips of your hair to the tips of your toenails, and back. Don’t tear the zipper off, but gently work it through any snags, clogs, doubts, pains, or discomforts. It still works, it just needs a little tender loving care. Alright, once you’ve ground/zipped/worked it up and down a couple three times, please continue reading. This is a nice one, I promise.
Dearest mother, I’m not singling you out, because what I have to say to you has to be said to every other person on this planet, too. Basically, it’s an apology/forgiveness/update. I know we haven’t connected, like, really connected, for some time. And, during the course of that disconnection, I have been/participated in/witnessed beat(en/ings) of the fear-driven variety. Some have been actual, physical contact, but most have been verbal, emotional, social. I see them like public stonings now, and I see them everywhere and all the time, but I still occasionally jai alai some stones back/forget and let them hit me/dodge. The correct answer is usually to laugh, to smile, or to hug. “Tough love” is abandonment, and is neither tough, nor love. Discuss. You know what? Frankly? Don’t discuss. I’m really tired of/by our “family” “discussions.” Let’s have some family doings. Let’s have some open/full/honest self-examination as to how we all spend our day-to-day lives and why. What resources we consume, what communications/demands/interactions we actually make/put on/extract near/towards/at/from/with other human beings, and the actual physical results of the substances we put into/surround/use to distract ourselves from our bodies, minds, souls, neighbors, and families. The love you so richly deserve is waiting patiently for you/me/us to stop running in circles screaming about how we don’t have time/money/security to just live harmoniously with everything and everyone who live in/around/near us, our loved ones, and “our” resources, investments, futures, points, degrees, statements, and even beliefs. I am you. You are me. Quite literally, in the provable, academic, honest-to/by/from/with(out)-god trueness (the kind without time/space/limitation, “legitimacy,” or corporate/government/groupthink (I dunno, groupthink sounded better than “lynch mob”) sponsorship. Please take a deep breath and relax, for you are deeply and truly loved. By me. I cannot and will not speak for the perspective of others. You will have to ask them yourself.
With utmost respect, kindest sincerity, and infinitely patient optimism,
“Happy Mother’s Day”
p.s. Mom/gramma/females/everyon…, you prolly wanna stop reading now… Errrr….
Legal Disclaimer: Not to be confused with the…
I promised, didn’t I… [like a Lisa Kudrow-long dramatic pause] Shucks.
p.p.s. Remember how when I was a kid, I nagged you for dryer sheets? Remember how we whined about soda and cereal and tv, and how we made fun of you whenever the tribal/gang/societal/materialistic opportunity arose. We actually laughed in your face when we made you cry, didn’t we. I do not re-hash this pain for any reason but to show you, as sincerely as I am capable, that I now understand that I/we was/were merely following the social script presented to me by cruel and insidious manipulations of language, media, and humanity. I understand now that I am not merely a “consumer.” I bowed to the pressure of this juggernaut, and I am truly sorry for how I consciously/unconsciously/inadvertently/purposefully directed my pain at you, in whatever form it took, whether we had ever met or merely shared visual/audiological/internetworked space/time/proximity. I also completely and fully forgive you for the same and in-any-way-related acts towards me, or my/all/other people. Those all hurt, the misdirected ones often even more. Anyway, all we are is a series of electrical wiring and impulses, plumbing and tubes, and amazingly resilient storage capacitors. You/we/I didn’t generate/originate/take to those poisonous sounds or motions or substances which currently emanate from our puny beautiful little meat-bot selves. The real you/me/us is right there, under/hovering above/within me/you/us all. Feel free to keep spitting/ejecting/lashing out at me, because your rejection of that pain and fear doesn’t scare/hurt/stick to me any more. It’s like a “you’re rubber and I’ am [swish]phffffoooo… whatever you say was someone else’s pain, and I will/still/always love you”
p.p.s. We should totally “market” ourselves as a completely free/fun/helpful double date. There has to be another father-daughter/mother-daughter/sister-sister/neice-uncle/neice-aunt/friend-friend/poison fountain-translator couple that could stand spending naked physical time with (though not simultaneously, probably, but hey, never rule out nude beaches, terrorist/fema/voluntarily pre-emptive internment camps, or drastic changes in perception!) us. I know this stuff is rough, but you gotta stop clinging to the how-it’s-supposed-to-be. Momentarily cling to me if ya gotta, then realize the futility/utter lack of necessity/love of us all. Welcome home.
p.p.p.s. My experiences/sensitivity/perspective/flexibility puts me in a unique place ‘round here. I’m an invisible net of nano/ether/macro tubes, a constant seeder/fertilizer/irrigator of truth, love, and unwavering/infinitely customizable/un-friggin-believable capability to see/hear/sense the/a/all easiest/simplest/lightest winn solvies du tout. They don’t come from me, they come from nature/you/all of us. They’re usually the gentlest, quietest, most patient voices. All I do is help you/show you/let you re-attune your hearing/sensing/feeling apparatus so you are able to be aware that they exist. I won’t leave you until you’re on your own solid footing, or until you ask me to leave. I hold no ill will toward you, regardless of the circumstances of our parting, and I gladly welcome non-combative reconnection, time/space/food/discussion/responsibility sharing. Know however, that if your verbal/emotional beatings resume, I will point them out as such. I have the power to dismantle your fragile little world with a few gentle words, but I will be available to your higher self for timeless consultation. You know what I’m gonna say, usually. If you require clarification, ask gently. You’re surrounded by ravenous wolves, and if you expend too much energy trying to hurt me, they will eat you up. I’ve seen it before. There is no quick, clean, and tidy explanation for any of your questions. The long, dirty, and chaotic is the only way we deliver. Inside the ever-expanding eye of the storm/shell/blast radius are the kindest, most beautiful, strongest, and most sensitive thoughts, people, and real life situations you could never imagine with all of your tv-shriveled little brain/heart/soul. Yeah, we still have “walls,” but we can see/pass/be through them. The tidal wave didn’t knock any of that stuff down, it just showed us how to see real for real, truth for truth, and love for love. Now it’s just a matter of clearing the poison and clutter away, and seeing the vast stores of fuel, sustenance, and unabashed love that lie directly under our noses. You/they cannot take anything from me, for I have nothing I want. The means by which we can work together are becoming fast apparent, and I sincerely thank you for your tolerance/viciousness/screams/insults/hate/abandonment/honesty, and for your genuine love, for there’s been more of that than I could have ever imagined. You’re beautiful.
Ok, I guess I’m done (for) now.
CopyWRONG/NOT/sure 2010-05-08, LAW Industries, LLC, citing fair use, self defense, life-liberty-pursuit-of, the 5th, the declaration, slugs, rats, fleas, ‘squitos, flies, vermin, the homeless, jobless, broke, busy, sluts, skanks, whores, artists, drunks, druggies, gangsters, tribes, revolutionaries, free, thinkers and “minority reports.” Seriously, y’all friggin’ rawk.