one blood

July 17, 2012

Willful. Full of will. Full of some other things too. Yesterday on the A train, I wrote a poem that I didn’t title, “is this what they call a transfusion” because I felt all the shame pouring out of me as my heart opened to love at the same time. I had been writing the story of the Scorpion and the Frog, and me, I realized I have always been as much one as I am the other.

See, that’s one of my problems with the nature of storytelling and our use of the word. So much of it is built upon duality. It is a game, always a game. That it is heads or tails, when all it is is a quarter. That the glass is not half full or half empty. It is just water. Coming across a glass of water, every other animal on the planet knows: water is life. Every animal except man, who is too busy playing head games with himself.

Duality denies that Two Equals One and One Equals Zero and Truth is Paradox. It inspires people to use words as vehicles to lower-level thinking, which fuels opposition to the self. It confounds me how the very nature of language works against Nature. But that’s neither here nor there for the moment.

I had come to this earth to die. And had I died I would have changed countless lives. But this isn’t a Frank Capra movie. It’s a wonderful life, sure, but it ain’t that black and white. I didn’t die. I got to live. And it reminds me of something extra-natural that happened yesterday morning.

I heard the words chanting in my ear. Yemaya O Yemaya. Yemaya, she the Mother of all creation and she is the mother of rebirth and here I am as she always knew. And I heard her calling so I gave myself to her and it’s a long string of associations backwards, all the way back home, back to life like Soul II Soul.

But this time on the planet, I began in Hell… because, well, I’m just going to call it Open Chakra Syndrome. I got that thang, that thaaaang (go ask Lauryn), and it nearly drove me insane. And that’s what I have come to realize. I was never insane. But I have something in me that could drive me over the edge. It also can bring me to other places, but who knows how to steer this thang?

So yea, I’m born ready to die like Biggie said (big ups, you know I know). And I’m just a baby with this thang and through the portals of Hell I go. And it got me thinking yesterday, that had I been born into another family with OCS, I still might have perished. Because this thang is bigger than me, even though it is in me and of me, and, me, I’m still looking for the steering wheel.

Once I was in Hell, I came to discover I had company. The people who brought me to this earth, they brought me to Hell after they birthed me, then rushed me to the hospital so I didn’t die. I dig that’s the right thing to do and I’d do it too, but it’s weird to know what lies on the other side. Because it’s not just OCS, it the people themselves. But for the first time I have come to realize, ain’t no flies on me. And as I see this I can truly give thanks, and with gratitude comes release.

Last night when I couldn’t sleep I kept thinking of the Proxy. The stand in. The replacement. The replay. Playing over and over again. Played me out. Played me right out til I found the stairway to heaven. And as I climbed those stairs to exit Hell, I got to this: I thought all these men were a proxy for my father. But my father was a proxy for myself.

And here’s what I learned yesterday. It came at me one two three. It came in the form of forgiveness. It was Absolute. Before yesterday, the only person in my life that I ever had the heart to forgive was Mr. DiGiorgio, and maybe it is because in him I saw the darkest part of myself. And in that darkness I saw a heart beating and it was a good and pure soul corrupted by the fires of Hell, and it was he who set in motion a chain of events, so that it should be the only men I shall ever write of are he and Mr. Brown.

Perhaps it was because I could forgive Mr. DiGiorgio that I knew forgiveness was possible. I didn’t know how to do it. It just came to me like BOOM. And it came again yesterday. It shocked me. It was as I expected and yet it was something else, because it gave me the key I needed to get out of Hell.

Shame vanished forevermore. Into thin air it was gone. I could claim it in full. A freak in the sheets is a freak on the streets. Ain’t no difference, believe you me. I’m not saying a freak can’t hide in plain sight, I’m saying a freak is a creation in full. Can’t break it down into body or mind or heart or soul. A freak is a complete package. And to this, well, I cannot deny it any longer.

I AM A FREAAAAK

It’s no longer a curse. It’s no longer my secret shame. It’s my badge of honor. It’s the flag I wave. I see you, Jimi Hendrix.

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