Lesbians Tortured and Murdered in South Africa

This is a copy of my response to the above subject from the threads.

Elxxx,

Thank you for writing this post to us, indeed a message of unspeakable acts committed by one human being on another. The question of “why?” comes to mind. Surely all would agree, there is no reasonable or fathomable explanation for such.

Nothing in the world has the power to break our hearts as when we make the rational decision to embrace irrationality. To condone acts of torture is reprehensible at the very least, because the parts of our minds that respect and honor human existence is willingly set aside, be it publicly or by omission. As long as such patterns of violence, torture and stigmatization are allowed to exist in any form, the human race remains forever shackled to the dark ages of depravity and barbarianism.

Many of you have come to know me. I ask you, would you put me to death because I am a lesbian? Would you look the other way, while I’m repeatedly raped to straighten me out? Would you participate in the sadistic removal of my genitalia? Would you do this to me or others in the name of culture, religion, morality or public health? I think not.

Would you stand idly by, while your daughter was forced into a marriage not of her choosing? How would you feel toward your grandchildren, the result of forced pregnancy? How utterly conflicting that notion is to my matriarchal instincts! What about you?

Some 70 countries around the globe openly and passionately defend these acts. Contrary to what you would like to believe, these atrocities happen every day in this world we live in. In my own country, the United States of America, some states continue to socially and legally view same sex relations as a serious crime. In my own state, I cannot legally marry the woman who has faithfully been my spouse for 20 years. Can you imagine the scars I carry for being who I am?

I hope what I have said touches you deeply. I humbly thank you for reading. I present it as passionately as I take every breath I take. And thanks again to Elxxx for bringing the truth to our attention.

Here I Am

Here I Am

I stepped out onto the ledge

And even though the air was hot and hard to breathe

It cooled the sweat on my skin.

My life path has brought me here

And as I slowly turned around

I saw your silhouette in the shadows.

I watched you as you watched me

The conversation took place

And never a word was spoken.

My Friend

Lately, I’ve had many childhood memories of climbing trees. Loving the puzzling challenge of how to safely hoist my way higher and higher. Once I got to the very, very top I would absorb the change of view.

I delighted in the view! Lifted above my everyday to the hopes of tomorrow. The sound of the leaves and the breeze against my face. The peace and independence that only a child knows. Later in life, learning that all sight comes from where the views are.

I believe I’m acquiring a bigger perspective of my own experiences. The old Professor would be proud. Dean, philosopher, poet…published many times over…teacher and friend ‘o mine. How very fortunate I was to have known him.

There are people who come into your life and make an imprint. He was one. Gone for 3 years now, I miss him so. A task master with gentle patience. He knew my capabilities and deftly enabled them. A real world person who scoffed at his many degrees and personified modest fame in his time. Still, the newspaper obituary was written long before his time was up. They don’t make ’em like that anymore.

He taught perspective is one’s own experience.

Simply stated:

Your eyes are in your head.

Your view is from your eyes.

The body follows the head and that is where you go.

And where you go is where you are.

Voiceless

Voiceless

This has come out of the blue

I knew not, I was looking for you.

My sight was focused,

My mission purposed.

Seeking collaboration

Never suspecting the notion

That an unknown talisman

Would shatter my bastion.

With expressions of grace,

Having no choice but to embrace

Your intensity and freshness

Exposing and breathless.

Wounded

Wounded

It’s a depression

Caused by compression.

More like a scar,

Intently meant to mar.

Located upon my skin

Thanks to tears stowed within.

Crying from my eyes

Meant to despise.

Streams of fire

Brought on by liars.

Discarded and forsaken,

As the tenuous heart was taken.

Perpetually deprived,

Forsaken and contrived.

Effortlessly lead astray,

Thoughtlessly thrown away.

Broken

Have you ever known someone so well that you can see/hear/feel their life force? You instinctively know their ebb and flow. Without a word, you can just tell when they’re good and when they’re not.

Sometimes, every breath they take, you wonder if there’s going to be another. Not because they are physically ill, but because life has beat them down. Like crop circles, beat flat. The reasons why will make you nauseous.

It tears my loving heart into shreds. I want so very, very much to lift the pain and ease the agony. I cannot. No matter how much we wish for things to be different, it is not.

Ah, and selfish me. I want all I can get, for as long as I can get it. My nose stings with the impending tears that well in my eyes when something hurts me so deeply. I want to cry for what I cannot do and what I cannot have.

But cry? I will not. Put on a good front! That’s my public face. Inside, I taken a running start and I cannot stop.

How Does That Make You Feel

“And how does that make you feel?”

I saw her lips say it as she shifted her upper body to the other side of the chair. I can’t remember her ever saying that before. It sounded so…so…so fake. In an nth of a second I bypassed it and responded to the question. But it’s been on my mind the rest of this day.

Hauntingly, I worry whether people like me or not. Perhaps not as much as I used to, but surely some would argue that point! Part of that blink of a second, was me thinking pdoc was bored with me. I know our relationship (over 12 years) doesn’t work that way, but it is the way I think sometimes. Granted, not as often as I used to. Recognizing progress can be hard and oh, so painful. Accepting my progress? Well, I’m not sure how that makes me feel.

Begin

I opened this blog months ago but I simply have not been able to write anything. Several reasons why, I believe. Probably first and foremost, fear of rejection. Fear of who? Fear of whom? Ultimately, fear of me.

The fears were installed by others and I continue to carry them and the accompanying scars. Repeating certain behaviors yet, improving others. I guess that’s progress. Drones on forever and a day. *sigh*

Fear of abandonment would be the second biggest fear for me. Maybe in time I can share some of the reasons. Not now though. Can’t open that can of worms except in pdoc office at present. Maybe I will find the courage to share at some point in time. I’m just not going to worry about that right now.

That’s enough for now.  I may have to get used to this.