Jesse Kyle Martin

Dear Jesse,

Last night Brandon told me you were gone. He said you decided to kill yourself in 1999. I told him that every so often I search for you on Myspace or Facebook, hoping that you would pop up. I now know why I never found you. I still remember the way you smelled, smiled, and had a quiet nervousness about you. I remember how we would playfully argue about Pontiac Grand Ams. I have always had a thing against them, and you loved your old car. I remember going to see KIDS with you at Village Cinema Arts and how I wondered if my emotional reaction to the movie would scare you away. You seemed so innocent, and I was already a mess. I remember your apartment on Riverside and how you were actually nervous at times about living there. I remember laughing at you about that because you had yet to find out that I lived in the heart of the ghetto. I remember your profile on After Hours - Hometown: "Lubbock or Leave It". I remember feeling very sure that I did the right thing by you when I broke it off, I felt you were too smart, had too much potential and that I would only be a bad influence on you. I remember feeling like I was too much of a distraction for your studies. I wanted you to finish your education and do great things. I was hurt when you started dating that mess of a girl whose name I don't remember. Rubenesque, that was her handle online. The situation disgusted me, how public she was about her exploits with you. I was mad that she didn't see you and hold you in as high regard as I did. That is why I disconnected completely and never spoke to you again. When you left Austin and went to Dallas I was glad that you were getting out of this situation. A year or so after you went up there I took a random road trip to do some partying with Becky. I called information from a pay phone to try to find you and was unsuccessful. I wanted to rekindle a friendship because you were just that cool. I wish I had tried harder that night, I don't know how or what I could have done, but I wish I had found you. All these years I was so sure you were out there doing something important. I was so sure that I would see you on Facebook one day, with a big happy family standing in front of a big happy house. I am sad to know that will never be the case. Goodbye, ten years too late.

Today's Rain

It reminds me of that evening in August of 2005. Zoey and myself were driving home, heading north on the access road of IH35 between Airport and 38th. Red light turns green, all things seemingly normal. Then smash, we are suddenly pushed off the road, under the over pass and stop about a foot from the solid cement pillar. We are okay, our cute little Spectra is trashed. Behind us is a white Honda, also trashed. The driver is a young girl, shaken to the core but okay.

I wanted to punch her. Her shoulders shook violently as she cried and profusely apologized. She couldn't stop looking at Zoey. I did, really want to punch her - she could have killed us.

Instead I hugged her and told her it was okay, that cars could be replaced. I wonder if she's a better driver these days....

The hustle and bustle of a yard

Spring has sprung. The former owners of this house were blessed with green thumbs and now I get to enjoy the fruits of their labor. There are roses every shade of pink and with the window open the breeze blows their sweetness right in. There are bumble bees and butterflies flitting around all the other flowers that I will probably never learn to identify - a lot of different purple, pink and yellow ones. The cactus is budding, the pecan trees are finally waking back up. My yard is full of happy birds pecking at the moldy bread I just threw out. Puff is sitting on the widow sill wishing he could catch a fat bird. Everything is beautiful today - with the exception of the angry man who just pulled up across the street and is cussing loudly into his cell. Weirdo, get outta my hood.

The past few days

Have been very melancholy. A lot of stupid shit has happened that I think would ordinarily not be a very big deal, however when in a certain mindset it all feels much heavier. It's so easy to become the center of a universe spiraling towards infinite doom. What makes it easier to do so is the fact that we are all doing the same damn thing. We are all so consumed with spinning in our own bullshit that we are too dizzy to help pull one another up.

I wonder what it takes to be one of the few that stop the motion? Just cease the ride and be still. Perhaps even gain footing steady enough to help others. It seems terribly simple, and yet totally out of reach.

Just fiction

The last breath of life puffed softly from his lips at 8:03 on a Wednesday morning. The days leading to that moment were etched forever in her mind; a mind now shackled and constrained with memories. The years and emotions had been turbulent waves crashing against her like the merciless sea. She looked down upon him and knew it was over, her heart and soul sighed with some relief, but still her mind could not relax. It never once occurred to her that the heart and soul should be the ones to hold on. She had never known normalcy in matters of the heart. She had often thought of this day and how she would embrace her freedom and finally live for herself. Now that the day was here, she was unsure of what to do with it.

Sometimes death liberates more than those dying.

Mountain air

Our road trip led past mountains and through tiny towns. Peering up at the towering peaks, straining my eyes to see into all the nooks and crannies; I wondered what it would be like to wander around like a wild mountain person. You know, one of those hairy people who shun society and live off the land - a hermit. There is a giant world all around us and yet we are content to stay put in the same spot for a majority of our lives.

Less is more. I want fewer material things and more exploration time. I never want to stop seeing new parts of the planet.

People are strange

I am amazed at how many secrets we keep from one another, how many false faces we use in a day, and how much energy it takes to manage it all. Awhile back I decided to not walk on eggshells anymore, at least not with people closest to my heart. I wish they could do the same.

When all is said and done

My soul is happy. I love that look in his eyes. It is never accurate or rational to compare another person's presence with your own completeness, but it feels right. I simply cannot picture my life without him. That's how I know it's different and real. I always was able to picture certain people out of my life with ease and a level of comfort. Him removed would be the death of part of me.

I call bullshit.

I find it so frustrating that some people are able to throw their arms up in defeat when they don't even give it an honest effort. This can be applied to many different scenarios - those who follow ridiculous rules without question, those who pay and tip for shitty service, those who accept vile workplace conditions, and those who give up on their children because the children don't behave the way they "should". Apathy runs deep in some families and it blows my mind. Why would you be content to just sit and do nothing because you feel that the child doesn't want anything done? Does that make any sense? It is up to the adult to coax desired behaviors from the child. Childhood is short and there are only so many days to build life long memories. Would you want to be remembered as the parent who relented or the parent who persisted?

A simpler life

What if all the technology and comforts of our modern homes were stripped away?

When I think of this question, I start wondering what my "minimum standard" of living is. I need a roof, ideally attached to walls and at least one door. Windows are good, but I suppose they are ultimately a luxury I could do without. I would definitely want electricity, gas, and running water.

Gotta stop right there.

Really? I think the statistic is almost 1 in every 5 humans does not have electricity, gas, and running water. Those people have to walk a mile or more to collect nasty, muddy well water or water from a river that is also the community toilet and bathtub. Electricity? They are lucky if they have candles and probably don't even understand the concept of a gas stove.

That means well over 1 BILLION people on the planet survive without something I consider a bare minimum. How did we get to this point? When did we start leaving each other behind? When did quality of life actually become something we put a price tag on? How did we make the transition from nomadic tribes to where we are now: 1% of the population controls 80% of the wealth. So, what do we do?

Money only works as money because we all agree that it has value. What would the fat cats do if the rest of the world decided that paper money was meaningless? An even better question is how do we organize to even create such a movement when poverty stricken people put an even higher value on paper money than the wealthy do?

I don't know, that's all I've got for right now.

Upon graduation, I would like to immigrate away from this country.

Two random and unrelated observations.

First: We, as a people are far too focused on money.

I went to a birthday party this weekend. It was for the daughter of a friend's friend (got that?) who turned seven. She casually put up with the balloons, singing, and caking. Then come the presents. She did not flinch at any of them, simply went from package to package ripping it open and setting it aside. Then came the cards. The little birthday cards that had the magical money inside. Her face lit up ecstatically. Why is a seven year old tossing aside new art supplies and cool girlie toys and reacting to paper money with such wanton lust in her eyes?

I'm gonna take this back to my childhood. I used to hate the money in cards thing. I didn't want cash, I wanted cool stuff. I attribute this lack of enthusiasm towards money to the fact that my mom never seemed to make a big deal out of it. My BE-FRI, Amy, and I were poor kids but we always had fun. I had a ton of cool shit in my room, but somehow never connected that stuff with money. At least not until middle school or so.

I now look at my own daughter, currently 9 years old. She gets extremely excited when someone gifts her money or gift cards. She's overly money-conscious and I know I've done that to her. I am so ridiculous with money it has rubbed off on her and now I'm becoming disgusted with myself for it. This is something I'm really going to need to focus on and explore a bit more.

And it took a 7 year old's birthday party for me to realize that there was something wrong with the way my brain ticks.

Second observation: I am a hugely different person than I was before being married. I know it is not right to credit change in self on the actions of others - I acknowledge that I willfully changed and did always have the option of not reacting to experiences, but for simplicity's sake, I will say that my ex-husband created a drastic change in me.

I have a wonderful friend who I remember having a conversation with a year or two or five (who knows) ago where she said the most remarkable thing: She trusts people completely until they give her a reason not to. I envy that. I fall on the complete opposite side of the spectrum, most people have to prove themselves before I trust them - and who the hell am I? Why should people care enough about someone they don't know just to prove that they are worthy of getting to know? It's absurd.

I find myself second guessing the people that I love the most in my life ALL the time. I put myself in spy mode looking for clues and wondering how many times I have been lied to or cheated on. So much of my precious energy is wasted on worrying about shit that I know won't happen. I think the psychological term is "looming". I'm a loomer, a nay-sayer. Surprisingly I do not have anxiety or depression problems.

Before the events that led to my divorce, I was fairly convinced that most of humanity was good. I believed that I was the recipient of love and that I was deserving of love. After the events, I began, and continue, to perpetually question the motives of those around me. (The children in my life are excluded from this scenario - I would never doubt the love from my children or nieces/nephew etc.) Yes, this leaves friends/other family/and the boyfriend. Mostly the boyfriend. I do not have a really solid reason for doubting him. It isn't him. I feel confident I would behave the same with any other human in the role of my life partner. It is frustrating and a waste of time and energy.

So, there we have it. Two things that I took a mental note on this weekend. These things are huge in my wee head. I have been warned by more than one psych prof to never attempt self-analysis. How can I not, though? If I don't care enough about myself to want to figure me out then what the hell is the point?

Yep

Here we go again. Actually, my brains don't feel too leaky at the moment. During a break in my dastardly attempt at Majormud, I found my old literotica post. I read it and was ashamed of all the grammatical and spelling errors, but damn.. the story is pretty hot. here is a link to that, if you'd like to read it. Perhaps I should rekindle the sport of fictional smut.