Haven’t been here quite 24 hours and found a few beautiful spots. That’s beauty of finally being about to live at 41 after a lifetime of just surviving.
After 18 months on Tulsa streets and reuniting with my brother after his 15 years sentence in a Florida prison. I have been able to appreciate the little things. As simple as having your own space own bed that you don’t have roll up and load up your backpack and be out by a certain time. I write this laying in my bed that I bought in a room I’m renting from family and as silly as it may sound it’s the most happiest I’ve been since me and my daughter lived together. Too often space is looked at as a bad thing but probably only by those that don’t appreciate there own . Go without it for six months or more and it will seem like paradise.
The phone rings and messages ding before my feet hit the floor in the morning. As I rush to drop the toast in the toaster pour a drink and get dressed all the while reading messages and emails I have a thousand thoughts running in my head all telling me hurry or you will lose or be late or miss everything!
That would be fine if I was rushing towards something that makes me smile makes me or my kids proud or happy. But this hustle is more to please those around me because I know if they are not happy then they won’t love me or like me or turn me away.
But in actuality I’ve survived all my life from a grammar school age survival was forced not taught or lead by anyone just by having noone. At five my mother locked me and my little brother in a mobile home trailer with a paddle lock on the outside so by no means could we break out while she would bar hop n drink and the maybe come home that next night or Monday morning right before school and yell and scream at me to get the fuck ready for school you little bitch. I’d happily race out the door but I’d kiss my little brother and tell him just be good she will pass out soon.. Going to school was my escape my freedom from hell. But making friends was hard because my hair was always messy and my clothes well depending on which cousin’s hand me down they were. But it never failed as soon as I would start to make friends or even one mom would have a new boyfriend or lose her job so we would have to move. Sometimes in the middle of the night so I never got to say goodbye to my friends or get that cool thing in art waiting to be graded.
Thanks for joining me!
Good company in a journey makes the way seem shorter. — Izaak Walton