Thursday, April 15, 2010
Guess I'll be the crazy one
When I was little I always liked when my bed was by the window. At night I would lay in bed and wish on the stars, almost talk to them about everything in my life.
I always loved them. Probably because they are so far away and so foreign. When you don't know what something is really like is the time we tend to project our happiest ideals on it. In the end I'm happy I'm not an astronaut because if I were to find out the stars where nothing mystical at all I would be sad.
But to me - they look like freedom.
Now that I'm in my 30's my bed isn't by the window. It's by a wall as far away from the windows that we can get. No, my love of laying in bed and wishing on stars hasn't dissipated with age, my neighbors are loud and annoying. So I miss out.
I get to see the stars when I come home late at night. I'm happy to report that they're still there.
When I meditate I think about them. I think about how I've been running away from this life since as long as I can remember. That's what I asked for when I was talking and praying and wishing all those years ago. "Dear God, please make me normal. Please let me find someone like me. Please. Please. Please."
At seven I knew I was eccentric. I told my sister that I had better be rich because the rich are eccentric - the poor are just crazy. It's true. Money changes everything, even when you wish it had that much power over you. No matter how much you have, you want more and then its still never enough.
I hate money.
Yes I'm that social liberal moron that wish we could all just "get along" but then jack asses just show me time and time again how that will never be. Our country is run like a 7-11. It's a business.
I feel social programs are important - WE are a country, not just the guy with the gold lined pockets, but he controls the government.
Money. I ruins everything it touches.
Jimmie Cox knew it when he wrote "Nobody Loves You When You're Down and Out" - my favorite is the Nina Simone version.
Once I lived the life of a millionaire,
Spent all my money, I just did not care.
Took all my friends out for a good time,
Bought bootleg whisky, champagne and wine.
Then I began to fall so low,
Lost all my good friends, I did not have nowhere to go.
I get my hands on a dollar again,
I'm gonna hang on to it till that eagle grins.
'Cause no, no, nobody knows you
When you're down and out.
In your pocket, not one penny,
And as for friends, you don't have any.
When you finally get back up on your feet again,
Everybody wants to be your old long-lost friend.
Said it's mighty strange, without a doubt,
Nobody knows you when you're down and out.
I'm not going to say I'm not loved. That would be a lie, I'm loved. I know what love feels like - it's not the longing I felt with my stars, no, it's the feeling of playing the the backyard with your 18 month old. Watching him dig through some toys as I dig out some weeds.
BUT - it is true.
I broke down and called HEAP today. If you are not familiar with this HEAP stands for Home Energy Assistance Program. My heating "payment plan" is close to $200 a month. The woman laughed at me on the phone. I made too much money last year so this year I can do without...
I tired to set up some classes. No dice.
So I cried.
My eyes feel very clean.
My son stared at me. His little forehead crinkled up in confusion as if to say, "Papa... why you making that face?" Papa always smiles and sticks out her tongue and laughs. So I held him close and I kissed his cheeks and I checked his eye (that swelled shut yesterday due to allergies) and I sang to him, like I do everyday.
"When I get back on my feet again. Here they all come, they say they're all your long lost friend" - that's the Nina Simone version.
When I get back on my feet again - because I will, just you watch me do it - I would like to tell all of you that have stood by me in this hard time I'll get you a gift. Maybe I'll buy you a star, so then on your lonely nights you can push your bed up to the window, lay there and make a wish on yourself.
But until then I've decided to stop crying. It's a waste of time and it just confuses my boy.
I'm going to figure this out. Write my book. Get students in my classes. Move to where I want to be.
I'm going to plant an awesome garden that's so great I have jars of goodies to take with me when I move and I'm going to sing to my son, every day.
I need to lay off on the woeful said songs... tomorrow I'm thinking maybe a little Bob Marley or something upbeat.
I'd sing Twinkle Twinkle Little Star, but he only likes the Alphabet Song.