Tag Archives: mother

Mother


destroying_mother_nature_by_williamorihama-d7ag83t

The fable of the world doesn’t exist.
Ask the hologram of his kiss.
The dreams we dreamt evaporated.
Ask the schemes of the advocated.
The blindfold is fool’s gold.
Ask time; it never grows old.

And although nothing can stay
I wish you were here today.

The moment arrives and befalls.
Like the highs and lows of cholesterol.
The things I wish for are transient.
Like the ambiance of accidents.
The faith in my chest is insoluble.
Like consolation in the uncontrollable.

And although nothing can stay
I wish you were here today.

The memories spin on its own axis.
And feelings give way to its blackness.
The wind whispers your sweet name.
And I’m allowed to say hi without blame.
The seasons change vast and fluid.
And warm and cold weather are reputed.

And although nothing can stay
I wish you were here today.

-Pennington

Unnecessary Selfishness


abstract-woman-femile-girl-art--fall-amy-giacomelli I speak the only way I know how – from the heart.

I’ll never forget how you left me solid cold at one of the hardest times of my life.  I’ll never forget how you made everything about you when I was the one suffering from a broken ankle with no income and wondering where I was going to live.  I’ll never forget how all those rare moments you sat by my side like when my mother died and you were just a body, never really there – on your phone all day disrespecting us at her wake.  You were just a body, and so was I.  I was your masturbation device for years, but we did start with love once upon a time – and this is still up for debate.

I’ll never forget the time when life brought to my attention how heartless you were – waiting at the clinic with me to have an abortion.  And all you complained about was lack of sleep, yet I was faced with the decision of having a gargantuan life force taken out of me.  And when we went back to my house, there was no mention of how I felt from what I had to do for the second time in my life.  The truth is:  You went right to sleep as if nothing happened because it didn’t happen to you.  I’ll never forget about the first abortion either because you weren’t there when you could have taken the day off work to be with me.  The truth again:  You didn’t want to be there, and this was evident by the second experience.  I’ll never forget how you made all my problems into something that was never yours to support or deal with.

Thank you for showing me how love was never meant to feel.  Thank you for never being my rock and for never taking on anything you didn’t want to handle – at least this last part you were honest about.  Thank you for letting me know that sex was the thing that kept you going and that you didn’t mind taking over and over again.  Thank you for never protecting me in the ways I should have been.  Thank you for never treating me like royalty.  Thank you for your unnecessary amounts of selfishness.  Thank you for showing me when it was time to walk out.  Without this – I would’ve kept thinking this kind of love was normal, but it wasn’t love, and this behavior wasn’t normal in itself.  Thank you.  I’m at a better place now and in the care of a profound love.

-Pennington

Even The Best Can Break Down!



This is personal.  So skip this if you always expect moi to maintain her strong-ness working at an optimum level of 110%.  

Firstly, I dedicate this Post to @WriteWendy.  Also her Org and Tumblr .  Entirely because she’s honest and raw with her own Life and I’m taking a page out her book and releasing a moment to do the same simply because she greatly inspires me.  Thanks Wendy with all my muscle fibers, heart and soul.

Yesterday I decided to do the impossible and visit my dying mother in the hospital.  Heading over there all I could feel was a bundle of heightened anxiety in the pit of my stomach that felt just like when I threaten juniors to fight in the cafeteria.  I’ve always been about entertainment in one way or another.  But seeing my mother isn’t delighting in the least.  It’s fucking devastating!  So much so that when I look into her face all I want to do is break down and cry.  There are many many reminders.

I haven’t seen her in a year.  It’s partly punishment.  It’s partly about keeping my entire sanity intact.  I heard my mother gasp in surprise as the nurse told her your daughter is here as she was changing in her personal bathroom.  I don’t know why (except that maybe the nurse was taken aback by my mother’s expression), but I felt compelled to tell the nurse I haven’t seen my mother in a long time.  Naturally she asked, “Do you live far?”  No, it’s just we really don’t get along.

For a moment she changed my loathsome perception of nurses with what she had to say:  We only have one mother.  Sometimes when people act harsh and angry, especially when they’re sick.  It’s because they believe nobody loves them.  They want somebody to take care of them and be there for them.  Don’t you notice when you give them love they are much calmer? Whatever she did to you as a kid, leave it there.  Come by and visit often.

When I finally saw my mom, I didn’t know what to say. I didn’t recognize her face.  I tried my hardest to cover the grimace but she caught it through my stricken eyes, I know I gained a lot of weight, right?  My reply:  A little.  I analyzed her face and it seems like someone stuffed two vineyard tomatoes under her cheeks how they flourish in furious mush.  I was heartbroken. 😦

Then I roamed my eyes to her hair and many of her strands were gray.  And I’m not sure what it was about youth or age or the past to present or what contradictions within me lied with wanting to run out and buy her a black tint so she can cover them?  I’m not used to seeing my mother succumb to weakness or being anything less than what she is now.  She’s a pretty good trooper with a million disguises putting politicians to shame.  And for her not to hide in plain sight just made me feel awful as I wanted to do it for her.  Jeweled travesties.  Make sense?

Mother and I chatted for what seem like a brief moment where when she decided to lay down on her bed she told me:  I missed you so much.  I haven’t seen you in a long time.  During this little time I had to reflect between what she said and what I felt with her asking me where my brother (her favorite) is and why has she never come out with the courage to tell me just how hard her ill existence is?  She grabbed out for my hand, held it and fell right to sleep.  I stuck around for a little while, wrote a note as to not wake her and thanked the nurse for being so welcoming.

But as soon as I left her room, I managed to get lost in the hospital.  I swear it was a metaphor for how I was feeling at that moment.  Before I stepped foot outside I saw a neon flashing sign: FOOD! I looked over the menu, reaching into my pockets to buy anything to shove my fucked up emotions down.  I didn’t.  I had a semi-long walk to the train station and before I made it.  I walked into 3 different food stores (including a pizza shop) just to browse food while each and everyone of them were offering their services.  Fucking gluttons! 😉

Holding back tears, thinking to myself:  How does all the parties, all the drugs, all the fun my entire family has ever had in life come down to letting go of life and losing absolutely everything in return?  How?  But I know the answers.  I know why I’m cynical.  But in the end it’s not the end.  Yet the somewhat happy ending concluded with sucking up the emotional guts to visit my mother and finally make it home successfully with healthy and whole foods from the market.

*smiles*

-Pennington

I Have A Reason



I’m not phony and I don’t pretend to be.

What you see on the surface of this cheeky apple smile, soulful deep brown eyes and Latin curvaceous body isn’t what you’re most likely to get!  I look soft on the outside, but I’m a raging ball of cynic and hate. I smile to hide all the anger, all the hurt, all the pain that takes a bit of my existence to the dark side.  And, you do know how people get soulful eyes, right? All the hurt, all the anger, all the pain, all the shit in the existence you maintain and keep on the planet called Earth.

I’m not one of those people who stands by feeling bad for your glorious self-pity moments. I’m not the person who consoles you knowing damn well YOU were the one who caused all of the problems in your Life.  I’m not the one who’s going to side with you when things get tough for YOU because I know you sit down at night, lay in your bed with dreams and fantasies that will calm your soul and allow you to sleep. I’m not fake. I won’t play a sitcom character in your life.  But I can tell by your words and the straight eye that you are FAKE. Especially when I brighten up your eyes with the god damn TRUTH!

I do not pretend to dislike my family. I do not pretend to act like I secretly love them. I have a reason to not give a fuck in this world about anyone or anything..only if I choose! I have a reason to say, “HEY I never liked my fucking family and I’m fucking proud of it!” How many people you know can say that? Those be the same people to front and go kiss ass with their family later at the family gatherings and stupid fucking holidays. Well, no, my hate’s never changed for them. I’ve practically disowned them. I never had what some would call the Good Life. I never had that GOOD family. This is my fate, these were the cards that were given to me. But you act like you have problems, when they’re all social or all made up in your fucking head. Puh-lease!

Here’s the difference between me and you:  I like generalizing, I enjoy being a cynic, not because it keeps me on guard from the rest of the world. But because when you look all around you, what do you see in the world? Selfish motherfuckin assholes and bitches! How many people look out for themselves first or their families first, their money first, their orgasm first? So, who’s lying to themselves? Me or you?

The other difference between me and you is I don’t want anyone to pity me. See, if I give a shit if you side with me once I tell you the details in my teacup. Why I lift the way I do? Why Training is the only therapy besides writing for me? Yes, I know life has been shitty to me. And it took me a while to comprehend that “yes I can fucking CHANGE it!” I can be happy. I can accept me.  But don’t go thinking I’m something similar to you because chances are I’ am fuckin not!

Once again, the demons crawl at me and try to guilt me into seeing my mother in the hospital. So she’s been repeatedly dying since I was 9 of age. Back then, I used to believe in those television shows and how they portray that YES YOU CAN have the ultimate family life. No, no, no. More fake stuff. TV! I never got along with my mother because she never got along with me. So I can’t forgive and I try to forget. But I’m good at holding grudges just like I’m good at pissing  people off. Now she’s not responding in the hospital. I haven’t seen her in roughly a year. And I rather see her when she’s dead. Maybe, then I’ll go see her and head to her funeral.

And you think, you know me?

Pennington