I check the registry to get the “official” countdown, to “the date”. At times I look for which item I will send. Like everything else around me the list grows smaller, my opportunities to make an impact smaller, my relevancy diminishing.
Systemically Erased.
January
Old Dog
What leapt out to me as I reviewed this one was THE PHOTO. At the old house there was a photo of me over the fireplace, I was about 3. I won’t ever own that photo again. Tears form as I type this as I am reminded of so many losses in 2015. I used to stare at that photo and wonder what became of that girl. Wonder why she couldn’t be protected, cherished, loved. I often wondered who she could’ve been if the world around her weren’t so invested in killing her innocence, her hope, her femininity, her dreams.
I won’t ever get answers to those questions like I won’t ever hold that photo again.
February
Rockwell Ave
This was the month-ish I stayed with Tori. What’s mostly clear from this month is the specific understanding that I didn’t want to end up like her. Thus far I’ve avoided that, I’ve become something different. Time will reveal if it is better than worse.
March
Home Again
I really missed my cat.
April
The Quiz
Self explanitory
May
Haunted
Seven months ago He returned to my dreams. It is a part of why I rarely sleep any longer, he lives in REM
June
2.0
A post Weekend Reunion blog. If I make it to Weekend Reunion 2016 at its new place and new time I wonder if it will affect me as deeply.
Right now I just want to figure out how to get there. I’ve got a little bit of time – not a lot but a little – to figure it out.
July
Ayuda
A re-post of the GoFundMe Blog. We still haven’t hit our goal almost s year later.
August
He Called Me Nigger
I fought him.
September
Fuck Bill Maher
A glimpse of the me who used to be, I took a moment to type about the world around me. I don’t see much of the world around me these days. That is a problem.
October
My first blog for The SWExperts
November
PNR
This is where I left B to seek out answers to questions that I don’t want the responses and where I shoved a wedge between my spoon and me. I miss her so fucking much.
December isn’t over, I have more writing to do, I think.
Aphrodite Brown