Sometimes things come together

  • Back in 1995 it was the Talking Heads song “Stop Making Sense.”  We were living at a 3 br townhome in Germantown, Maryland, outside of D.C.  At the time i wrote, “i see this place as from the sky, mapped out across the landscape like an integrated circuit.  We were called here…”
  • My life had been so insane.  I saw everything coming together in a way that i didnt understand.  I was among friends for the first time in 10 years.  I had forgotten what that felt like.  People cared.  I didnt have to prove anything.  But there were missing links in my understanding.  I had been at the state hospitasl.  I had experienced defacto sexual torture.  I did feel a need to prove myself and i was showing off my psych ward attitude, trying to stand up for the Black man when Clarence Thomas was beiing accused if sexual harrassment (presumably accurately) and O.J. Simpson wss on trial for murder.  It was like a fantastic game but i was at risk of being sent to the state hospital there in Maryland.  My ex got my psychiatrust on the outside to get me out..
  • There was no coming back from that.

Today im experiencing a glimmering if the same things.  I have my book coming out. And i am beginning to recognize friendly faces in the community.  I am not afraid to own my feelings if having been used by God for a prophet.  Things were si extreme.  Now it doesnt feel so crazy and da gerous be ause i am finally picking back up tbe stepping stones “in between.”  Anybody can be used as a prophet i finally undetstand, maybe all of us each in his or her own way.

I am moved to cry out:  “THANK GOD ALMIGHTY, FREE AT LAST!”  (MLK)

“I’ve been a prisoner all my life…”  Phil Collins

“Everyone wants ti be a little closer to Free”  ?i dont remember the artist.

So what i am going through is not that abnormal.  Its just that it has been pasted across such a broad canvas, the four corners of the US + N to Canada and S to Mexico, with several different EU connections: and within these geographical framework there has been a bizarre juxtaposition of the ultra- priveleged– the intelligentsia, through Daddy’s work in the electronic industry, and the dow trodden, the shunned:  through my disability and for other reasons u have faced the most brutal blows, unprotected at a state mental instutution where my family abandonned me. It is an odd thing to watch, as things come together now, how they continue to try and hope to prevail.  It is an attitude fostered by my childhood disability that my mother thanked me for once when i was a little girl.  Sorry Mom.  I forgive you, but no im not going to let you win.

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