Music Can Tell The Truth.

Idiot Wind.
Sent on the Sprint® Now Network from my BlackBerry®

I've gotten some things off my chest here, but I think it's time to calm down now.....
Time for a little light.

Exactly!

CAPRICORN (Dec. 22-Jan. 19): "There are two rules for ultimate success
in life," wrote L. M. Boyd. "First, never tell everything you know." While
that may be the conventional wisdom about how to build up one's
personal power, I prefer to live by a different principle. Personally, I find
that as I divulge everything I know, I keep knowing more and more that
wasn't available to me before. The act of sharing connects me to fresh
sources. Open-hearted communication doesn't weaken me, but just the
reverse: It feeds my vitality. This is the approach I recommend to you in
the coming days, Capricorn. Do indeed tell everything you know.

Death.

I'm no stranger to Death. I'd say he knows me by name.
We've shaken hands and agreed that he is necessary- and that I still don't like him. He seems to accept it.
That only sounds insane to you if you don't know my life- if you do, sounds perfectly reasonable. He is there and he has a name and we need him- but we're a little like kids that hate vegetables. You can fight it all you want, but someday you'll have to accept some facts.
He's been around a lot lately- and physical death is not his only job; don't underestimate him. That's a mistake.
Everything ends. As you are born, you will die. As it is with All That Is. And I mean ALL. Relationships, the flowers that pretty up your table, and the tiny spider that hangs out in your window.
It's all gotta go sometime.
And so do you. And some you love will go before you do.
It's really alright. I swear on all I consider Holy, that it really is alright.

Do your grieving, be sad about the loss of future events. Wish things could have been different. However you grieve is however you do it, and don't ever let anyone tell you you're wrong for it. Fuck them if they dare do that. But know all the while that the dead are fine- where they should be- and the one you grieve for is you.
That, in a nutshell, is what he told me.
He wasn't so nice about it, but then, nice isn't in his job description.

We Are All Wrong, A Lot.

You can't really undo old mistakes. You can apologize if you believe you were wrong, but you can only ever build something new. In some cases, for me, that's working right now. In others, I have no interest in building a damn thing.
If I can't trust you now, and am pretty sure I should never trust you again, what is there to build?
People want me to fix this thing, you see, with my sister. The sister I chose. I see why they all want it; it was powerful and beneficial and rare. I would have forgiven anything, and did. Anything save that thing that she'd already done once. I can only forgive that once. I should only forgive it once.
Aside from all of that, toxic is toxic- no matter who is right, wrong, or both. That's the real bottom line.
I will not make a move on this. I cannot. Not now. I know that we'll face each other again sometime, but I won't do it until I'm ready. If I ever am. I no longer wish to be where I am not wanted for what I am. I will not make changes in my priorities because someone else thinks I should. I cannot learn to love myself when one of the most important people in my life thinks that I'll only deserve unconditional love once I make whatever changes she wishes. I never did that to her, and I'll no longer accept less.
I will always love her. But I will not keep her.
Now, onward.

Letter To A Long Lost Child.

I got a text message from your mother this morning- and when I saw your name and your picture I backed away from the computer and cried for two hours. In fact, I'm still crying... My friend was with me, and didn't immediately understand what brought the tears- until I told him the story.
We were so, so young, Deven.
I remember your mom pregnant with you; I remember your baby shower and all of the things that we had for you. You slept on my chest and I put you to bed. I sang you little songs and reveled in your tiny giggle. You had one hell of a grip, and my hair was long at the time so you got more than one handful of my locks, boy.
Your mother was my best friend, and so I was your Auntie Heather.
And I loved you.
I have never, ever forgotten you. Saying goodbye to you was unlike anything I have experienced to date- how do you willingly say goodbye to a child you love and likely will never see again- and process that so young? I know your mother never got over it, and I sure as hell didn't.
Back then, when I still prayed on occasion, I prayed that you were safe- that whoever was graced with your life would see the precious little boy that they had and would raise you to be good, gentle, intelligent, and a smart ass-
Just like we would have, if we could have.
I'll let you read this someday soon, after you get to know your mother again and can face the long line of strangers that want to be a part of your life. I'm only recently better at patience, but I'll wait my turn.
Welcome back, young man.
You can never know how much you've been missed.
Love,
Heather

Tom Waits - Come On Up to the House

Nico - These Days