Thursday, October 27, 2005


The long Stick jabbing
straight through our natural preserve,
supported, steady Branch on one side.
Brushed up against balancing Stone,
broken Flower smiles, smiles Blood
Red and Leafy Yellow smiles. She buries Acorn
(our continual growth) in the distant
Muddy Blue Jeans, containing the moment.

Gentle Sun shining down on Stick,
she heats the inner, sticky wood,
strokes Flower and Stone and Leaves alike,
softens Mud, Branch stirs and Seed,
she pushes her shoot toward the sky.


i have MS (capatalized in a world of lower case to make sure you understand it means multiple sclerosis), sensory MS to be exact. my skin goes numb, only not really numb, but more the sensation as novacaine wears off, though not always painful, but it does not feel right. my eyes go blind, grayish purple spots that thin as they disappear with healing, it looks like i am looking through a lace curtain that is wearing down with age until at all goes back to normal, except that my reds are a little duller or some other mild annoyance. sometimes the body tightens up in a girdle effect, and i feel trapped in the clothes women had to wear in the victorian era and i cannot take them off. all of these things, they are overwhelming, distracting, and it takes all my energy to tollerate this never ending nightmare i get stuck in until my episodes pass, and knocking on wood, i will continue to recover as i have.

i should be greatful greatful that it isnt any worse. but one time, the left side of my face stopped working and i didnt even notice until i looked at myself in the mirror when i was smiling real big and i looked kinda like a stroke victim with only the one corner turned up. i only remembered when literally faced with myself. it was tollerable and it scares me that i would rather not be able to move a muscle then be numb.

ok, i am done being morbid for the night.

Tuesday, October 25, 2005

vote, vote, vote!

this morning, after one of the scariest experiences i have ever had (i forgot to put the rent check in the mail and recieved an eviction notice for it, though its all fixed now), i went to breakfast with a friend of mine and his brother, who is a child advocacy lawyer. they began to discuss the upcoming election, and i listened carefully, as i am not sure how i am voting yet, either mayorally or issuewise.

out of everything they said, one thing has stuck for sure. it is in the current status' best interest if voter turns out stays as low as it did in the primary for mayor because if most people got off their couches, they would most likely vote against that which hasnt been working

so get up, get dressed, and go vote!

Sunday, October 23, 2005

mental health

i should be doing homework, i really should, but 'sybil' is on oxygen and theres nothing more satisfying to an unjaded mental health worker then the possibility of saving a sybil.

now i, personally, am jaded, well, atleast aware of the current belief that doctor wilber conjured up sybil's personalities, but still cling to the feeling i got the first time i saw the film.

i was young, eight or so, and so scared of the music, but she was so happy at the end, sitting in the grass with doctor wilber. i see miracles every day at work, but i have many sound concerns reguarding future treatment of the mentally ill. most recently, there is the consistitant stream of contradictory studies done on anti-psychotic medications, as well as the unreasonable cost of drugs and declining reimbursements hospitals recieve from third party payees.

there is nothing harder then watching a client decompensate in their daily living because the one drug that truly aids her in remission is an atypical drug her insurance wont cover and the doctors wont apply for a patient assistance program.

three: social work with groups

my change, it all started with a college class i opted to take to better understand the natural chaos inherent to working within multiple systems. sounds so scholarly, right? well, instead of being given simple textbook work that charicterizes my graduate program's curriculum, i was thrown into a boiling hot cauldron of a work load (99 percent internal and scalding) with an ecentric and majickal professor stoking the fire.

an education rarity is all i can say. following suit of 'no child left behind', our higher institutions are quickly losing the creative aspects that i thought my parents had fought to give us. and now he that giveths taketh away.

i go to higher level private university, i pay over thirteen thousand a semester (or sallie may has, for the moment), and i will graduate having taken only one course that truly stretched, twisted me as a person, moments i was willing to suffer through because i could feel that butterfly flapping her wings as my being absorbed new knowledge.

just wanted to share


if you know me, know that i will start a post off with "do not read this so and so" if its in your best interest not to (ok, mom, so you wont have to know how mad or bad i've been)- my suggestion is that you dont read it.

...i think thats my only suggestion


i have this eastern saying stuck in my head, have for weeks now.

Before enlightenment, i chopped wood and carried water;
after enlightenment, i chopped wood and carried water

I start this blog to stop fearing my power as an individual and a voice,
and promise free poetry, political fodder, a number of tempertantrums (i'm sure)
though not on any time table.

....but i have to figure out how to do this first.
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