The extermination

by jenkapotente

I was walking into the hospital department check-in area before my appointment when I saw a couple Russian looking thugs enter from the other end, not really giving off that I’ve-come-15-minutes-early-to-my-doctor’s-appointment-because-I’m-a-responsible-human-being-vibe. I turned to look behind me and a man with similar Slavic mug was coming in from another entrance. Without drawing attention, I ducked out a side door to try checking in from another floor, but the heavy, echoing steps in the stairwell above had me curious: who are these burly motherfuckers and why do they all need healthcare right now? The hospital corridors were unusually empty, eerie, so I opted to eat the $25 no-show fee and leave (I’m no longer the Russophile I used to be and the concurrent concentration of Ruski infiltration had me nervous). I came across a two-way mirror overseeing the check-in area: they had, in fact, begun an extermination. I must have accessed the corridor just after it was cleared. I’m panicked. I look for a direct exit but hear heavy footsteps, heavy doors opening and closing in nearby hallways. I rush into an open room and duck below window level to see one of the men walk by. Once he’s disappeared I rush out an emergency exit.

The air smells of cement. The gray city is mostly quiet–no screaming. I hear running, shuffling, gun shots from behind buildings. I go deeper into the city block and see heavy Caterpillar equipment in the process of bulldozing and demolishing every structure into dust. Farther north a tarp hanging vertically divides this block from the part of the city that will remain untouched.  The block inhabitants who escaped extermination cross over into safety.  I grab the tarp to see bright light reflect off my hand. I lift the tarp and follow.

The Denial of an Abuser

by jenkapotente

Addiction: contemporary dance

I found myself thankful this beautifully choreographed dance came up in my FB memory history today. It depicts the toxic dynamic between victim and addiction.  I once associated its evocative power with drug addicts, but it can be and is so much more than that, making it a truly artistic composition via the medium of dance.  After waking up heavy from the residue of a nightmare in which I struggled to escape a man pursuing to harm me, a nightmare most likely provoked by an abusive incident last night: my alcohol-addled ex took it upon himself to reach out after not speaking for a month and invalidate my cathartic writings on his actions, and essentially my experience, threatening “slander” (libel).

The extent of his sickness, his denial, was not made fully apparent to me until last night.  He is creating a string of abused women in his wake and his denial is so gross, he prefers to label them all psycho/crazy liars rather than confront his own illness. But even he admits he has trouble with confrontation.

He can never take the truth of what he did to me that night away from me.  No matter how many times his denial provokes him to accuse me or his ex wife of “twisting” truth, he cannot effectively invalidate our experience.  The trauma of his history of invalidation was triggered last night when he harassed me via text message, but I was lifted out of that dark place quickly thanks to the help of people in my life.

I feel fortunate to be surrounded by friends who support me in times of trouble and lift me through their love when I get down. They elucidate so many things I don’t see in my fogs of insecurity.  They remind me:

1. You are out of his league.  (He admitted to this multiple times, and I knew it but I was not focused on elevating myself in the relationship so I tried not to pay it much attention.)
2. “He is worthless” – the words of his mother. His own family admits he is a waste. His own waste.  Even his sister contacted me to apologize on his behalf for gas lighting me. She shared he’d seemed like he was finally getting his act together once meeting me, but my influence of positivity was short-lived; his disease conquered him yet again.
3. He bequeaths pity from anyone who (truly) knows him.  The supportive people in my life remind me he is a man who cannot complete what he starts, whereas I am a woman who has completed her degree and is currently en route to complete a second. I am on track to an admirable career and succeeding excellently.  Because I perform at a level of excellence.  I set myself apart through my work.  He sets himself apart through talk, because no one but himself is bragging for him. The reason he has so many people in his life hassling him about his uncompleted tasks is because he has a history of not taking care of business.  His Chief, his mother, his ex, myself, and who knows how many others, have been forced by his own inertia to attempt to accelerate change in this inertia, but failed due to his staunch refusal to accept his shortcomings enough to consciously admit them for successful change. Instead, he accepts assistance in secret to himself, fooling himself into believing he can take care of himself effectively (he can not support himself whatsoever without the assistance of his family and settlement funds).
4. He is biologically unfit.  Aside from the literal disease he has inflicted upon himself through his vicious vices, his weakness is apparent visibly.  His vertebral column literally cowers betraying his own assertions he is not a coward. My friends have noted his weakness, though at the time I was with him I did not want to see it.  I wanted to support his own claims of health, hence I supported his lie, enabling him like so many of his family members.  All the while he was stealing my vitality from me because I was an overflowing source.  I now see he probably did the same to his ex, a woman who was taking the initiative to better her life through a post-grad education. But his lack of fitness makes him unconsciously resentful and jealous of the successes of others to the point he responds with eventual abuse. He is the type of  man who would figuratively drown the person next to himself just to get his own head above water.
5. He can only hurt me if I let him.  I have now blocked his phone number so the occurrence of last night cannot be repeated.  I have moved on.  I am regaining the vitality lost now that I have extricated the toxic leech from my life.
6. I am surrounded by people who adore, appreciate, and remind me of who I am.  I don’t have to build myself up alone; they assist me.  I feel so fortunate that I have them lifting me out of the dark places I occasionally visit.  I don’t know that I could rebuild myself without them. I don’t want to; we are social creatures and our ties and bonds make not only our selves better, but everything else around us benefits from the wellness of our bonds, displaying the Whole is truly greater than the sum of its parts.

I am thankful for the recent changes in my life.  2015 was a toxic year, but 2016 doesn’t have to be.  And so far it is showing itself to be rejuvenating.  I have been attracting wellness lately, and I love how it has been rubbing off. (;

 

xo

 

Coffee, Richter, and Faulkner

by jenkapotente

I’m ready to live hard. To speak my dreams and make them truths. I will take care to not alter these dreams or to become enslaved to the course of someone else’s plan. Even in times of convenience, I will bend only for love, for compassion, and greater understanding. I’m ready to stifle greed with giving. And silence desire with donation. May human ‘profit’ be a notion of the past and the pursuit of liberty be my only conquest.

I will devote my life to aiding others become well in mind and body as I, too, struggle to reach homeostasis. Where I falter, let there be humility and insight. Where I succeed, let there be humility and utility. 

Xkcd brilliance

by jenkapotente

Man: When did we forget our dreams?
Man: The infinite possibilities each day holds should stagger the mind. The sheer number of experiences I could have is uncountable, breathtaking, and I’m sitting here refreshing my inbox. We live trapped in loops, reliving a few days over and over, and we envision only a few paths laid out ahead of us. We see the same things each day, respond the same way, we think the same thoughts, every day a slight variation on the last, every moment smoothly following the gentle curves of societal norms. We act like if we just get through today, tomorrow our dreams will come back to us.
Man: And no, I don’t have all the answers. I don’t know how to jolt myself into seeing what each moment could become. But I do know one thing: The solution doesn’t involve watering down my every little idea and creative impulse for the sake of someday easing my fit into a mold. It doesn’t involve tempering my life to better fit someone’s expectations. It doesn’t involve constantly holding back for fear of shaking things up.
Man: This is very important, so I want to say it as clearly as I can: FUCK. THAT. SHIT.

Good Morning

by jenkapotente

As the seasons become warmer, the creepy crawlies begin to invade my personal space.  Last night I had two separate dreams of spiders:  first, I was asleep on some veranda and upon waking saw a number of spiders descending on thin lines of silk around me and onto my head.  I immediately darted to the main house.  Later in my sleep cycle I dreamt of riding to the ER with my mom.  I pulled my sleeves up and on my forearms were several bite marks that were turning black, swelling and expanding.  The resulting restlessness had me up bright and bushy-tailed at 7AM after twenty or so minutes of tossing, turning, and muscle flinching.  To my relief, the day is beautiful, crisp and cool on my palate.

Poem at 6 AM

by jenkapotente

-Morning-

Birds sing.
Their chirping does not rouse
Gently
But abrasively
Because I want to be deep in dreams.

Your warmth only reaches
So far;
I have to make contact
To sate this
urge.

When our skins
Interact
It’s as if I feel you from the
Root first
To the tip.

You are so cold
In parts,
But our friction is like
The lightning strike

And our scents–
Emergent ozone.

Dreamers of Dreams

by jenkapotente

“manipulation must stop
otherwise you suffer the malady of untruth
and distrust
people’s hearts aren’t just fantasies
they’re fantasies as realities
they’re these incredibly dreamy things
located right in real time”

I sink because of you, but also,
I float because of you.

Sometimes I think of academia as a sort of lofty entity unto itself.
Sui generis
(a term I am using for academia I learned only because of academia)
Well, you can receive an education anywhere, in various forms, but not in that special prepackaged academia way, rich in history and tradition (of the academic sort).

There was a reason I mentioned this.
Ahh, the importance of comparison.
Comparative studies aren’t always popular, but comparison is something we cannot avoid.
We do comparison, even without acknowledging it, all the time.
I bring this up because comparison allows us to become aware of norms (and it was brought up in class recently which gave me a sort of lightbulb moment).

Without being aware of the bad, we could never have the joy of knowing the good.
That comes at a cost. The cost is being conscious of those negatives–being tested by them when they’ve come to the forefront of your mind.

So, I sigh. I sigh for many reasons:
I sigh because verbalizing the mess in my head is often a burdensome task;
I sigh because it is a small release of tensions;
I sigh because I’m in love
and sometimes it hurts more than it elates
which is a notion I get only when hurting.

My new year has been leagues better than the end of my 2008, despite some rough patches.
I feel an incredible lightness in spirit tonight.
I feel love, and it’s all warm and fuzzy,
even bubbly.
Effervescent as it may be, carbonation doesn’t last forever.

reduce, reuse, recycle

Heh. I’m pretty idealistic. I have this belief that humans are pretty much capable of anything we dream up. I guess I am a proper product of socialization. I am a part of a collective consciousness that believes this as well. I am NOT UNIQUE.

So, we dreamers of dreams are faced with the task of making reality of our fantasies. Not so easy. But if we don’t, we have to accept our dreams are just that–Dreams.

I refuse.

I sink because of you, but also,
I float because of you.

Thank you

A recurring dream

by jenkapotente

When she was a young girl, she would often dream of flying. She had a recurring dream where she found herself along the streets of her mostly vacant neighborhood at night. She would fly close to the ground, over the barren, partitioned plots that had been awaiting new buyers. New buyers never really came, but that didn’t matter to her. She didn’t wish to fly too high. When she’d look up into the night sky, a feminine voice would call her saying, “Follow the colors.” The voice and the colors always appeared in the same corner, northwest of her orientation.

That recurring dream stopped at about puberty. She nearly forgot all about it

until today.

Ick

by jenkapotente

I managed to drag myself out of bed this morning to visit the bathroom.  I kept putting it off to remain in sleep, but I then found myself dreaming of relieving myself.  And the place I was attempting to relieve myself was quite awful.  The mistress of the house wouldn’t even let me go outside.  Anyway, I am tryin to get rid of all the dream residue that is clouding my head right now.  I look a frightful mess (not to be confused with ‘sexy wreck’). 

I think my dreams were so lucid because I didn’t drink yesterday.  I believe my sobriety catapulted me into some crazy stream of disturbing dreams.  Hopefully tonight will be better. 

4 more days until my Hell is over.  I wish my womb was detachable in times like this so it could bleed elsewhere and I’d not have to feel unpleasant every morning.