on broken wings and baby sea turtles
puzzle pieces.
Do you ever meet someone only to realize that the relationship is for a season and you can bring them along but that they were only a guidepost back to yourself? That a couple of things showed this for me. This is what I have to accept at this moment.
At this very moment, I am doing the “Community” portion of my schedule where I am building community. And this like tetris is where the blocks fit where they need to fit, only with the right direction or else you cannot match the shape. This is what is going on.
So I just gave my donation for the alumni club for new students. And when the form asked about my ID#, I had to go back into my email to search for it. I never found it, but they still accepted my 000000000 answer. And I saw emails from 2007 about Gates Millennium Scholars and FAFSA renewals. And an address I had in Prince Georges County, or “PG County”, Maryland. Even though then, it sounded like “PeeGee” the way people said it.
I am kind of shaking a little because I realize that the trauma I have experienced I think did not allow me to really bring my experiences forward in a natural, more healthy way, and it is all filling in slowly but surely.
I feel something at this moment.
I have a few people more to contact and that will be like scratching blood. But in a way that I need.
They were my guidepost, not the guidepost.
So God, I have a death now. This is my dying period Godwilling. I let go now. I die. Release.
Also this morning my ballet class was good in some parts and in one part in the end with the grand allegro, I couldn’t get my head placement for the last pose. I have trouble coordinating head placement in coordination with my body for a ballet(ic) pose, you know. Yesterday was more difficult, worse, really embarrassing…anyway, I want to overcome this. And my inside turns on the left, my surgery foot, not as effortless.
Well, let me get back to this. This blog post, which before blogging, I wrote out what to say, to my father and older brother, again, community, figuring out the placement of the tetris pieces. They have to be faced now.
So take
These broken wings
And learn to fly again
Learn to live so free
And when we hear
The voices sing
The book of love will open up
And let us in
I love this song. My older brother liked songs like this before landing on intellectual hip hop and then rap, in a digressive way. Tetris, his generation. Mine by osmosis of his and my sister’s influence.
He had both/many sides I observe, but I feel like for a Black boy/man, society sometimes forces you to choose when you have capacity for just good music, you know. He is a predator actually. I also hurt him. It’s like unweaving an unweavable thread. So we’ll see. These generational tetris pieces. For healing in so many ways, for one younger sibling especially. It is now or never.
I wrote out questions to ask. Or things to say because I am bad socially. My internal monologue blogging is richer than my ability to communicate verbally sometimes. So I have to prep what I’m going to say depending on the person, if I have a loss for words.
Time to move onto the next person to contact. A guidepost.
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