for notkay…
because i haven’t heard from her in a bit and i know it’s because she’s probably contemplating…
officide.
But, you know me, I have to push that envelope right out the door.
So, here it is. Wordplay of The Week:
Orificide – the indiscriminate mass murder of anyone in your office who is behaving like an asshole.
Yeah, so it’s about as quiet as a buffalo farting after a chili-fest around here (hehe, to the person reading this who gets that reference), whatwith the end of the year approaching and my faulty kidney deciding to kick itself again. More on that later. I’m fine, at home, and resting. K? Yes, NotKay, I promise to phone if I need anything, including assistance in buying bulk products of freezable goods.
Before I continue, I want to say a small but huge thank you to some angels who appeared on Friday night. I just want to thank them for getting a little girl’s mama home safely, albeit without car and/or sanity. So, for you, Megum, I am thanking the angels.
And now, for what this post is really all about.
Someone I know, someone I respect and admire from afar. Someone whose family is in my thoughts. I want to write this person a letter. If it bores the rest of you, I don’t really care much this evening. What I care about, is that in her hell, I don’t want her to feel alone.
For you, you know who you are. I found you with a little help from a friend, and read up on what’s occurred. I am so sad for you, and those around you. My heart in my throat when I read of your pain.
But, there you are, brave with your pain. Brave with your ending and beginning again and brave with your tears and not afraid to tell the world why you are. Brave for your loved ones, and braver still to face up to the lies around you.
I want you to know that I’ve been there. I’ve been there when you discover the lies. The untruth. The unexplained obsession with things that would normally not seem out of bounds but suddenly mean the world. I’ve been there when you cannot deny the truth to yourself and worst of all, to anyone else.
I’ve been where you are. On that landscape of rock and sheer cliff-face. And it’s not just fucking scary. It’s beyond hell.
I’ve been there when your reaction is to say “I don’t know what to do” and hope like shit that some direction will come. I’ve been there when the walls of your home sound like they are crumbling within themselves and you cannot hold them up because your arms can no longer reach.
I’ve also been there, when you have to build them again.
I want to tell you something that got me through the day that I discovered the end of my world. What I didn’t know then, was that it was just the beginning. But that’s not important to you right now and it really shouldn’t have to be. Right now all you can think about is surviving this torrent and that’s the right thing to do.
A friend said to me, on the day my walls crumbled:
Cry. Cry until your eyes won’t run any more.
Scream. Scream until your voice falters and does not cooperate.
Be sad. Be sad until your feeling is ended.
Write. Write until your hand falls off.
Loathe. Loathe until you feel numb from it all.
Go robotic. Go robotic until your auto-pilot clocks out and Mission Control has to take over.
Feel. Feel everything right the way through until it’s as thin as rice paper.
Do not apologise for any of it.
But, don’t. Don’t let it get the better of you.
If I were worried about your ability to do this, to make it through it, I would have said so in the beginning. But, I’m not. You’re strong. Yes, only the strong can admit to being weak so, stop berating yourself and remember that you are strong. And I know you are.
Because you threw the chair.
You. Rock. My. Funny. Vitriolic. Bone.
THANK YOU!
Dear NotKay
I have no words. You are a queen among peasants and a light in the dark.
All I have to offer you today is this little thank you, which in life may seem so small, but it is mighty in my heart.
You have made one little girl, and one big girl smile so much.
Thank you.
X
Happy Birthday to the Momagement!
An inspirational force in a world gone mad.
Thank you for dancing, staplers and so much more. X
Honest to blog, blog, whenever I am to experience something hard, something uncomfortable, something that hurts, i know I always have an army behind me.
And yesterday, well, my army was there in full force and war paint. It’s there, everyday, you know, but on the days that I have to be a warrior princess, I know I can count on my army to march directly behind me.
(note to Sheena – I’ve just figured out the ants marching noise. hah).
Anyway, me and my army. Yes, my army. I am so thankful for them.
But, believe it or not, blog, my army isnt even commanded by me. it just is. And moreover, it answers to one much smaller and braver than I. Such a brave little girl with such big curls. The truth is, my Super Mommy Powers are entirely borne from the strength and courage of her.
Thank you, you all know, quite well, who you are. I know you were holding my hand and hers. Thank you.
And on this Friday the 13th, I’d like to introduce you to…
She of the “once endured ballet lessons, primary school and now meetings sans staplers with me”
I’m so fucking glad you started blogging.
Yes, YOU LOT, click that link NOW.
(NotKay, from one with eyes to die for, to another, smooch. big girl crush X)
Dear NotKay
Thank you for being so utterly supportive and insightful and moreover, for forgetting to take a photo of me.
twas FUCKING good to see you. You’re right, so right, I am the luckiest fucker on the planet. Please explain how?
X
for me and notkay taryn today.
please send help and stapler to throw.
IF you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you,
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,
But make allowance for their doubting too;
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or being lied about, don’t deal in lies,
Or being hated, don’t give way to hating,
And yet don’t look too good, nor talk too wise:
If you can dream – and not make dreams your master;
If you can think – and not make thoughts your aim;
If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster
And treat those two impostors just the same;
If you can bear to hear the truth you’ve spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,
And stoop and build ‘em up with worn-out tools:
If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings
And never breathe a word about your loss;
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which says to them: ‘Hold on!’
If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
‘ Or walk with Kings – nor lose the common touch,
if neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you,
If all men count with you, but none too much;
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds’ worth of distance run,
Yours is the Earth and everything that’s in it,
And – which is more – you’ll be a Man, my son!
side note – bugger it, i do not want to me a man today, i am losing my shiz here. with reason.
roll on friday
