39 nights and 40 days

Its official. 30 calendar days left between me and a new decade of life. Using the blog as my journal all these years and big-time the last month or so has opened my eyes to so many things that I don’t care about anymore, and helped me focus in on the things that I do. 30 days left.
Relationships with people has never been and will never be my strong suit, so instead of beating myself up now for not being good at keeping people around, I’m also giving myself some grace because, the longer any motherfucker stays, the more they are getting out of it in comparison to what they are giving. You can change someone’s whole life in an afternoon and I know because I’ve seen it and done it and had it happen to me many times. I don’t need to possess any other person besides myself regardless of what manufacturers selling products have to say. 30 days left.
I also realize the few people I do care about are allowed to make mistakes and come and go because I’m not worried that there’s not love there, even if I’m difficult, or they are, to get along with at the moment. If I can’t let you fuck up, and you can’t give me that room either, then we don’t need to know each other and its as simple as that. 30 days, can you even fucking believe it?
As far as appearance goes, I’m actually quite fascinated by it. I used to try so hard to fit into a mold of something society would say was beautiful, simply because I spent my first 11 years on this waterball without a hug or so much as a kind word spoken to me. Every positive attribute pointed out since then by anyone has always seemed like a con, even if the delivery was genuine. I realize now I didn’t get to choose the lenses from which I was introduced to the world but I can remember I have them on, and my natural vision is blurry. There are places in this world that whatever features I possess are assets and I need to remember that even though I don’t live there now, it doesn’t make them not so because the people here can’t see why. I have worn all the skirts and the hair and the fashion and the makeup I could get my hands on to make people around me see me like one of them, and praise my face and I realize now, Chile nobody has everything- I hear you have a nice smile a thousand times a day and lately some woman has stopped me to tell me my outfit was put together well or I did that, right and really, what else can you ask from people? One day they will stop all together and I want to care less and less each moment I get. Do I feel good? Do I look good to me? Am I pain free? Am I having fun? Then these humans that get blessed with my presence from time to time, better be lucky they get an opportunity to enjoy. 30 days left.
These bills I got, priorities are handled and if its ever not then I have enough skills and wiles and sense to figure out whatever it is I need to figure out in the moment to keep myself safe and out of harm’s way for the most part so what is catastrophizing going to do but make me miss the sunset in front of my face? 30 days left.
I thought I was going to hell for a long time
And then I tried my damnedest for a few decades to get sent there for good reason
And now I know such a place only existed in a manipulated mind
Whether this is all there is, is irrelevant when this is all I get to experience. So I’m going to consider this my last day of forced writing before my birthday, 30 days from now. If I feel truly inspired I will pen something- If there is no other way to express it and it has to be expressed, I will type it down. If I need to do another journaling practice for 40 days like this one, I’ll consider it, there’s no telling.
I haven’t re-read any of the things I’ve written since I started this run up to my 50th and I’m curious to go back now and check it out and see if I dropped any gems on myself or not. I hope so. 30 days left.
And to all of you out there in cyberland, who happen across this blog and read the post, and like and share and buy the books and comment on YouTube etc etc, you the real MVPs. I do all of this for me, to keep myself sane, to remember I’m human, and knowing that there are a few of you on the waterball that I get to share all of this with, around the globe, its like I do have a family that loves me after all. Kinfolk. I do fit in somewhere. I am good enough and pretty enough and talented enough and all that, and I just have to accept it. Approval or agreement not required just acceptance. Just peace. Thanks for coming along on this ride. Wild, right? If someone started my blog at this post, and read backwards to 2012, it would look like a phoenix being pulled into the flames for sure. Keep reading if you want to, I’m sure I’ll find a reason to get back at it soon. I thought I understood living every day like it’s your last meant skidding into the grave doing all the damage possible and now I know it doesn’t mean that shit at all.