The ugly truth

Some people have great laughs….I am not one of those people.

My laugh is odd. If I laugh really hard, it gets somewhat squeaky. Therefore, that being true, I still cannot understand why my friend (I call her my work mom) Jan requested a video of me laughing. I admit it..I have a dorky laugh. Still, it’s mine and its me.

Instagram.

Instagram#2

and then there is that other laugh

Yup..not sexy…at all.

 

Don’t say I didn’t warn you.

 

 

You want me to know you?

(Trying out a new style)

Motherfucker I know you.
I know you soft and I know you hard.
I know you drunk and I know you sober.
I know you tangled up in feelings of inferiority and fear.
I know you lost in echoes and history.
I know you sensitive and fragile.
I know you strong and slightly cocky.
I know you fierce and I know you fine.
You want me to prove myself to you?
I prove myself just by standing here.
I prove myself waking up each morning and sleeping every damned night.
I prove myself by knowing how to catch you, even when you are really, really heavy.
I’m not a healer.
You go get yourself a straight talking psychiatrist for that.
Me? I just love you broken and tired, just as much,
as I love you whole and mellow.
Quirky and inquisitive.
I love you with those ugly shoes and those even uglier worries.
You think love is passion?
You think love is youth?
Love is tired because it takes all the shine off that painted penny to uncover what’s really underneath.
Love is a dirty face.
I don’t love you for your fine face, cause honey! That face is just gonna get old.
I don’t love you for your money, cause money don’t buy kindness baby. Nor laughter, or that illusive quality grit.
That never quit, never stop,
give it all you got.
You want me to know you?
Motherfucker, I know you.
I knew you the moment I saw you.
I knew you were the one that would either make me happy,
or make me cry.
Did you hear me say goodbye?
Neither did I.

So, stop waiting for me to prove myself.
Move yourself.

(Poem note: If the Tarot cards show me one more King of Wands I swear to the Patron Saint of Poetry (Uriel) I will tear my hair out….for real. Waiting for fate sucks)

Well, that explains a lot

I just learned that my papa was a Virgo with a Cancer Venus.

This stuns me because so is my favorite person. This explains quite a lot about why my favorite person feels somewhat familiar, in small ways, to me.

I read dad’s chart and the Taurus Moon and the Interactions with his Aspects truly do explain soo soo much about him. The agreeable and non-agreeable signs between us is even more revealing.

I miss my dad. It’s weird to learn something I should have already known about him. His Astrology sign.

Makes me wonder if fate was waiting for me to know Astrology before teaching me who my father really was.

I see you papa. I see you.