I have addictions. Cigarettes, coffee, plain glazed donuts, sex and McDonald’s McChicken Sandwiches just to name a few (Those things are just so fucking awesome, and I have no clue why). I’m also addicted to words, people watching, books and music. Don’t think those are addictions? Think again.

See, people can be addicted to just about any damn thing in the fucking world. You can be addicted to hop scotch if you really just love to play that stupid game. The real question is whether it’s a healthy addiction or not. Sadly enough, most people are addicted to things that are bad for them. Why? Because we are all idiots.

Have you ever heard of a health food addiction? Of course not! But it exists, just like you can be addicted to cleaning your fingernails, or color coding your closets, or organizing your cabinets alphabetically… Ahem…

I have a lot of idiosyncrasies that deter people from me. I count Skittles and M&M’s to make sure there are no odd numbers… I’ll never eat the last one of something (IE: A cookie or a French Fry), I always leave one noodle on a plate of pasta… don’t ask me why… I just do, but these things, in and among themselves, are not in any way addictions.

Addictions are things we just can’t live without. Things that without which our entire day is ruined. Like Coffee, cigarettes, glazed donuts and sex. McDonald’s Chicken Sandwiches are not that hard to do without every day, but I have to have at least one a week. It’s like shopping and chocolate, but worse.

So, how do we, as men and women of the world, contain and control such base urges as a McDonald’s McChicken? Electric Shock Therapy is the answer, I’m telling you!! All joking aside, there are times when addictions should not be indulged.  You wouldn’t want to, say…. smoke a cigarette in the middle of a wedding or a funeral. You wouldn’t want to tell your boss in an important meeting that you have to run, glazed donuts are calling for you.

So why in God’s name do those who have more serious addictions find themselves unable to withhold that urge and craving for just a little while? After all, it’s just another form of delayed gratification, right? If you can abstain from going for a beer when you’re pulling your normal 9 to 5, why can’t you wait a little longer? And a little longer the next time? It’s not that hard!

Buy me no diamonds
Cold, heartless diamonds,
Birthed in dirt and grime.
Bring me a thought,
a soft gentle thought
dear and sweet lover of mine.

Bring me no roses,
Harsh, flashy roses,
So bright in their depravity.
Bring instead daisies,
Plain, lovely daisies,
that grow wild and wonderfully free.

Bring me not orchids,
Pale, lifeless orchids
That grow in filth and slime.
Bring to me tulips,
Sweet, gentle tulips
A smile among spring time.

Bring me no money,
Useless, horrid money
Full of hate and birthing greed.
Instead, bring me love
Bring me only your love
For that is truly the one thing I need.

~For you… you know who you are.

I think the first time it really hit me was nearly three years ago, in November of 2004. Earlier in the year, a guy I had grown up with and had known all of my life was released from prison. He got a job working with my husband at the time for a tree company that worked with our local Electric Company to clear lines of debris and overgrowing trees. Their friendship grew strong fast considering that before then, Jamie had hated my husband. We started to hang out with Jamie for a few months. It wasn’t long before he had a girl hanging with us. Michelle was as wild as Jamie was. We were constantly together, the four of us, drinking once or twice, most of the time doing a shit load of drugs and being crazy. Cocaine and Xanax seemed to be our preferences, with the occasional dip into pain medication. Drug habits are so expensive.

It was in November that it happened. Michelle showed up at my house late at night asking my husband to come and help Jamie jump start his truck. He refused, telling her he’d seen the truck go by our window not ten minutes before. I was sleeping then, but when my husband came back inside, I woke up. I felt that something was going to happen. I just knew it would. And not anything good. Michelle came back a few minutes later and called my husband outside again. I stayed inside and discreetly watched and listened through the window. Michelle kissed my husband and whispered for him to come and fuck her real fast, that Jamie had passed out and she was horny. Knowing that I was awake, my husband of course refused and came back inside. The third time Michelle showed up, he went with her, this time she was again claiming that she needed a jump for Jamie’s truck. He came back within minutes, saying that something wasn’t right.

We both needed to chill out, so we got in our truck and went to smoke a joint. On the way back to our house, we saw Jamie’s truck parked on the side of the road. We slowed down, but didn’t really talk. When we did stop, Jamie jumped out of his truck and started toward us. We didn’t think anything of it. When he got to the window and grabbed my husband by the throat, then I knew what was going to happen. It all happened really fast. One second Jamie was repeatedly beating my husband’s head into the steering wheel and choking him, the next minute he had pulled him out of the truck. Another guy, who I also knew and had grown up with, came around and told me to get out of the truck before I got hurt.

Michelle was there. I didn’t know what to do… I was stunned and at a complete loss. Shocked beyond comprehension. This was Jamie, for god’s sake. Michelle put her arm around my waist and whispered to me, “I have my gun, so don’t be an idiot.” We were trapped in a nightmare. I hoped we were anyhow. I just kept thinking of my kids. What kind of parent was I to let something like this happen? I was so busy getting stoned and partying that I had never thought of them and how any of it effected them. I’ve never forgotten that moment. Especially after what Jamie said later.

He kicked my husband in the face repeatedly, slammed his head against the asphalt of the road, all the while screaming like an insane bird, it sounded like. I have never in my life been as scared, before or since. I saw, in my head I saw, that we were both going to die. If I hadn’t said something, we would have.

My husband and Jamie had been boxing and playing around for months. Jamie had always had a bad temper and had trouble controlling himself once he started fighting. My husband had been helping him to learn when to stop by using keywords. I remembered some of them and started screaming. I don’t know if I actually said anything or not, but apparently one of the “keywords” got out of my mouth because Jamie reacted to it. He started nodding and saying “Yeah, yeah, enough.” And then he just stopped. The guy that was with him, however, didn’t want to. He started after my husband again and Jamie got pissed at him and they got into an argument. My husband got enough of his head cleared to take off, because Michelle had gotten her gun out. I, however, couldn’t move because her arm was still around me. I wasn’t scared by then, not until Jamie and the other guy looked at me and told me that if I said a word, called the police or anything, they’d kill me… but that they’d kill my daughter and my two sons first.

That scared me more than the rest of it. My kids called this guy “Uncle Jamie”, Jamie had taught my oldest son how to hold a knife for fucks sake! I never did understand how he could say that to me… he adored my kids, or so I thought. After I swore not to say anything, Michelle put me in my truck. I drove home and called my brother, who helped me go and look for Jeremy (my husband at the time). We found him in the woods, nearly unconscious and laying half in half out of a sewer creek. I took him home and cleaned him up. I didn’t take him to the hospital because I knew they’d call the police. I took care of him as best as I could.

But that incident isn’t what hit home for me that the nice quiet neighborhood I had grown up in was changing for the worse.

I couldn’t believe it when this happened. It was Nov. 2, 2004. Jamie had not only shot Rashad Cosby, another guy that I knew, but he had stabbed his uncle as well. Jamie’s uncle had been my next door neighbor for years. He and Michelle tried to both claim credit for the shooting, but Jamie pulled the trigger. I was almost relieved when I found out he was in jail and had been denied bond. I hadn’t slept since the night before he had beaten my husband… the night before he actually shot Rashad. The stabbing of his uncle isn’t in these clips, I don’t think, but it was done on the same night as the shooting. It’s an odd sensation, being relieved that a childhood friend is no longer a threat, knowing that you basically grew up beside a murderer.

It’s one thing I’ll never forget. I’ll never forget that night, how Jamie looked, how frightened I was. I’ll never forget how calm I was as I drove home. Or how happy I was when I found out Jamie was in jail. How sad I was that Rashad was dead. It was a strange time period in my life. And this is actually the first time I’ve told anyone about it. The other guy that was with Jamie when he threatened my kids lives is still out there, but he doesn’t scare me anymore. He can’t hurt me. I’m more prepared now than I was then. And besides…

He doesn’t have the fucking balls.

One piece of the puzzle is still missing, but I can see it. The last piece, one of the most important pieces of the entire masterpiece is right there in front of me, glittering happily in suspended time, just waiting to be placed. But it isn’t me who has the pleasure of placing it. When it gets placed, it will have to place it’s self. That’s the magic, and the beauty, of it all. In this, I have no control, I can’t dictate it. I can’t force it. It will settle in on it’s own or it will disappear like an unfinished dream in a haze of memory and bitter regret. But it’s deep, this feeling. This inexplicable feeling… so pure and strange. Almost unknown, almost new. It’s like an exotic fruit you’ve had only once before, yet your whole being aches for another taste of it on your lips. It’s deep… like the ocean. Unending and quiet most days, yet overwhelming and unpredictable when you least expect it. It’s angry and impatient, yet timeless and gentle at the same time. It’s… everything.

How could anyone turn this away? To be honest, I wanted to. I really did. I wanted to run scared, like a child cowering under her blankets, hiding from the monster in the closet. The blankets were so tempting at one point. Now they lay tossed aside unheeded and forgotten in the corners of my mind. All too often I’ve given in to fear. I won’t do it again, ever. I was once my own comfort, I had to be. I had no one to turn to for anything. My family all but alienated me for the longest time, I left nearly all of my friends far behind me too long ago. Some apron strings shouldn’t be cut, I’m discovering. But, sadly enough, there’s no turning back once you’ve wielded the scissors. No turning point, no backtracing, no fixing what’s broken. Those strings are gone forever… severed like the umbilicus on a baby.

So I became my only comfort, the only one I relied on, emotionally, physically. I counted on me and me alone. It was easier, far easier to cry and know I’d always be the one wiping my own tears away. It’s better to know that I can count on myself for that than to cry harder because the person who should do it isn’t there. It’s so deep though, this feeling I have. It’s beyond description. It’s every warm day of the spring and summer, combined with the beauty and crisp freshness of fall and winter. It’s… amazing.

I thought I knew, and I did… but never this deep. Who’d have thought that my heart was an ocean instead of just another well? I teetered on the edge for so very long, fighting to keep my balance. I refused myself the last piece of my puzzle, even though I knew it was there. I was afraid. Now I’m not. I want the piece to be placed. Now that I do want it, I realize that I was always meant to have it, but that I wasn’t the one meant to set it. A new apron string is set. I find comfort in another now and not just myself. The piece to my puzzle is right in front of my eyes. I hope it settles in. I hope it comes home because I’ve missed it. I never knew how much I could miss something that I’d never seen before. Now I know I can, I do. The wait is worth it though. Anything would be worth it… just for this feeling. It’s so very, very deep. Bottomless. It’s just so deep.

Okay, the first one. My ex husband is moving again. He’s moving to Roanoke Va. to work. He got a contract for some office buildings and some townhouses, as well as a housing development that has him contracted to build five hundred houses. This is a good thing, for him because it means more money in his pocket, for me because it means he is further away from me. For my kids, it’s not so good, but Roanoke isn’t that far, they’ll still see him every weekend. Thus, I come to one of the bad ones.

With him living two hours away from me and the kids, when he comes for his weekend visits, he will either have to stay at my house or get a hotel room. I don’t relish the thought of my kids staying in a hotel room, so guess who gets to play nice every weekend? Heh… me that’s who.

So, what does this effect in my life? My weekends, my overall outlook on how dysfunctional my life is, my love life… I’m very afraid it will mess up my love life. Not that I have a full social calendar lined out with my lover, but it could still put a damper on some things.

For one, I don’t know how my… companion will react to knowing my ex husband will be spending his weekends on my couch. I don’t have much of a choice about it at the moment, but I still think that maybe it could cause unwanted stress and problems, and not just in my love life.

My ex has been planning a trip to Alabama with the kids so that they can see their Grandmother. I have no problems with them going at all. Their Grandmother deserves to see them, she has always been good to them and me both. When I spoke to her about my divorce, she was understanding, and even told me she thought I should have done it ages ago. I know the kids would love to see her, and she them. The problem I have… is her husband.

I can’t stand my ex father in law. He’s the most self righteous, self preserving, all knowing bastard that ever walked. He’s never been bad to my kids, per se, but he treats my ex with less than respect, and I don’t want my children exposed to that sort of negativity. I try to keep all negative words about my ex husband out of their ear shot, and I won’t allow any one else to bad mouth their father in front of them either. He might be a bastard, but he is their Daddy, and they love him. None of them deserve the hurt and confusion of that sort of negative feed. So, I’m unsure about the trip. Maybe if they go while he is working…

Now, I’ve been having trouble maintaining civility when my ex husband comes around me. We always fought when we were married, but now that our children are older we both recognize the fact that they can hear and feel the hostility our arguments create. I just can’t seem to get along with him. After all, if the creator had intended for us to like our ex husbands, she wouldn’t have made them such bastards in the first place, would she?

Now, here’s another one of life’s little jokes on me. I mentioned before that I am going to open a bakery. The plans are all set, I’m finalizing paperwork on the building Thursday, I’ve spoken to contractors about the refurbishing of it and everything. Things were going so well with it. Today though, I hit a snag. The building that I am planning on using is situated next to a grocery. That’s not too bad in it’s self but for the fact that this particular grocery has the most popular bakery in the city. I’m trying to look positive, that maybe people who go to shop in the bakery there will see mine and decide to take a look at my stuff first, but there will be many people who want to stick with what they know. Just my luck.

Another thing is that my steady source of income is starting to dwindle. It was cut by 40% this month and when I got my check I was… astounded by exactly how much 40% turned out to be. Now I realize how extravagantly I’ve lived in the last years. My spending habits far exceed my new smaller income and I have to make some major adjustments. I can do it, but it royally pisses me off that I have to. I don’t relish the thought of cutting down on my shopping. Shopping and chocolate are the best therapy in the world. Oh well, I’ll live, I guess.

It’s summer, so the kids are out of school. That’s was extremely fun for the first three weeks. Now they are starting to get extremely bored and have been whining to me about when school is going to start back up. I love my kids to death, but sheesh, enough is enough. They have been hyper for two weeks straight, and grouchy as can be. I can’t stand it! I’ve gotten them some things to do, some constructive things, and they are enjoying them. We’ve gone hiking and swimming, and take oodles of trips to the park and the mall, but there is only so much to do where we live. I’m going to take them to the new Harry Potter film when it starts showing in theaters this weekend, so maybe that will give them something to be happy about for a while.

All in all, it’s just life at it’s fullest and best. You just have to love the slap stick aspect of it.

“Yeah, I’m awake.” He answered. I nodded, shoved my unruly curls back and turned to the window to look outside again.

“I had a dream about you last night David.”

“Hope it was a good one.” he mumbled, fumbling for his jeans he had discarded on the floor.

“Was she any good? Your whore, I mean. I was there, you know. In my dream. I even got the unfortunate pleasure of feeling what you felt. What I don’t understand Dave,” I paused and turned to smirk at him cynically. “What I really don’t understand is why you’d want to fuck around on me with a fat, cold cunted bitch in the first place.”

David just stared at me, his mouth wide. He started to shake his head in denial, but he knew better. I know he did.

“Five in the morning comes early David. You should try to let your whore rest sometimes before two tonight.” I suggested, calmly and casually walking from the room, flipping my still burning cigarette directly into his face as I went. His muffled cursing followed me all the way to the kitchen and made me laugh.

“Alena! You fucking bitch…” And that, ironically enough, made me laugh even harder.

This is an excerpt from a novel I’m working on currently. The only reason it’s here is because I think it says something. I don’t know if it says something about me or about other aspects of humanity. I do want to point out though, that people should think when they do things. I’ve said before that everything you do, everything you say has an effect. Eventually, when you are with someone in a relationship, they see everything and hear everything you do. Eventually, if you do nothing but bad things, hurtful things… you kill everything that they once were to you. Everything about the person you once adored is dead… and it’s your fault. How can anyone live with themselves after doing that to another person? It’s… a frightening thought to say the very least.

There are too many things in life to accomplish to fight against changes and for a person to always stay the same, no matter what. Why should we? Growth and maturity are a natural process in life, so why must we try to limit that process? Because we are all narrow minded selfish bastards that think we are the center of the universe, that’s why!

I said something earlier to… (we’ll call him my “friend” at this point and time) and it made me think. I said to him that maybe life was trying to tell me that I actually need to live instead of just planning to eventually. That’s an intriguing thought, huh?

The thing about all of this is that I personally don’t care. I’m going with whatever happens to me and saying to hell with it. I’ve had enough of life’s metaphorical cream pies in the face, as I put it earlier to the same “friend”. So fuck it all. Whatever happens is going to happen, and I can’t do a damned thing about it. Let it flow, baby, let it flow.  After all… change is supposed to be good right?

I’m not saying it’s all bad, I’m having some very good changes too. But I’m not going to try to push anything or to try and make it all seem better. I’m just going with the flow and letting my life take me where it takes me. It can’t hurt, right? I’ll make decisions when I need to, but as for the rest… it can all just do what it wants. It’s going to do exactly what it wants anyway, so why bother trying to prevent it? Good or bad… all the changes are now welcome. Maybe everyone should be like this. Fuck it.

Throughout my entire life, I have had the ability to “know” things before they happen. I don’t have visions exactly, that particular aspect is completely undeveloped and I have only had one definitive vision in my entire life. I do, however, have dreams in which I know certain things will come to pass.

I have dreams. Or understandings. My dreams are odd and it took me a long time to figure out exactly what my dreams were about. Since I could even remember my dreams, I’ve had special ones. I had my first vision when I was four. It frightened me so badly that I suppressed that aspect of my abilities. However, I can’t completely make them go away, so they come to me in the form of shadows now. The only full fledged “vision” I’ve had as an adult was by far the most horrible and horrific experience of my entire life. I won’t go into details, simply because they would be very graphic and not something that should even be spoken of to the open public, as is the case here. But, what I experienced did indeed come to pass… I read about it in the newspaper four days later.

After that, I was so horrified with myself that I again suppressed my “ability”. I don’t want it, and I don’t ever want to see something like that again. But I can’t stop the dreams.

What would you say… what would you do if you could do something to stop something bad from happening? Would you be able to live with yourself if you didn’t? Would it matter? I know hardly anyone is going to believe this at all anyhow, but that is a minute point at the moment. I’m not saying that I’m psychic. I’m not saying that I walk around all the time having premonitions and dreams of other people’s downfalls. I’m not saying I talk to dead people. I’m saying that sometimes, especially if I am close to someone, just sometimes I know things. I understand things and feel things. Sometimes I have dreams. And sometimes, they come true. I wish they didn’t… but sometimes they do. And I can never stop it from happening. I want to… but I can’t, and it kills me.

“Momma, how come when I have juice in my glass all the way up to the top, and I put my hand in my cup the juice comes out?”

Well, that’s not such an odd question for a five year old. I explained displacement to him and confused him even more, so then I tried to put it in simpler terms. When he finally got it though, he thought that it was such an absolutely awesome thing, that he went to try it several more times. Don’t you just love kids?

I went to my meeting and it went just wonderfully. Afterwards, I got to thinking about my experience with my son this morning. I see displacement all the time in my life and never recognize it. Let me explain…

Have you ever felt something for someone and in just an ordinary moment, feel such a surge of emotion that you “must” have a “went” for it? Like suddenly just looking at someone and saying “I love you” out of the blue, for no particular reason? Or grabbing someone and just kissing them for no reason? It’s sort of like emotional displacement, don’t you think? This could apply to several emotions, really. Anger, confusion, love, any of them. It’s something to think about anyway.