pain, rain and water go away, come again another day.....

".....some place their feelings upon their sleeve,
carry the weight of the world upon their shoulders,
my feelings lie just below the surface of my fingertips
the weight of the world in my hands,
I guess that makes me more passionate then most."
I fight diligently to hide the heart that beats, melodically in tuned with my surroundings. My blood bleeds and spills invisibly onto the feet of those who are in need. My arms are heavy from carrying the load of others I cannot seem to comfort and find no comfort in me. I find sometimes I am much to heavy for some, and some much too heavy for me. Despite the shell, there's a soul that loves as God loves. While you don't always see or feel it, there's proof that it exists. You just have to open your heart and mind..... (thanks Shia.)
I seldom smile, and when I do, I cover it because my teeth are crooked. I laugh, often in the form of euphoric recall, so often it appears as if I laughing at others. But I'm not. I have a piercing stare, not because I'm trying to look thru you, because I don't always see well. I am impatient and often get bored at the optamologist's office, my prescription is ALWAYS SLIGHTLY OFF. The intensity of my gaze is my inheritance from my mother. It is one of the few things she left me.
Today I fight moroseness. I feel it permeating and infecting my core. I am weighed down and haunted by the images on television, my personal/family plight (no one has spoken to my grandfather and uncle for a few days), my job, my salary, GAS PRICES, interpersonal relationships and of course, thanks to modern technology, in the WAKE OF EVERYTHING ELSE, I am receiving pre-mature PATRIOTIC, DON'T FORGET, PLEASE PASS THIS ON 9-11 e-mails. 9-11 has dual meaning to me, as the last matron in my village, my Grand(mother) transcended this level of existence to another during the twilight of 09.11.04. I mean, come on people, isn't one tragedy enough? And I don't mean it sarcastically.
Last night I watched the television with a group of poets. Most of which had not watched the news in great detail. Neither had I, other then cautiously watching and listening to CNN for about 15 minutes at nightly since the strom struck. So anyone who utilized a form of modern day technology would be painfully aware that there is enough going on, that possibly, we can wait, until, at least after frickin' Labor Day to remember 9-11. Please don't think I am being calloused. I continue to mourn our country's loss and sense of devastation associated with 9-11. I applaud our troops for fighting for my "civil liberties and justices", I even question myself regarding my "cowardice" versus my "political stance" as it relates to serving in the Armed Forces.
There are rumors of Armageddon, references that the City of Decadence, New Orleans, is the Modern Day Sodom and Gomorrah, Genocide, Conspiracy theories galore. There are FAKE RESCUE AND RELIEF EFFORTS, where "people" are trying to capitalize on this tragedy. And it is discerning, indescibable to say the least.
I say all of this, because I want to be MAD. DOG MAD. I hide behind the easy emotions. Anger being one of them. Do you know easy it is to express anger? Explode? Therein, you are also allowed to save face, not allow anyone to know what's going on while getting the space you feel you deserve. Yet, I have been working on expressing other emotions. I have been peeling, tearing away at the coat of arms which I believe protects me. Today, more then ever though, I wish I could channel my anger into a chest vest and protect my ever beating heart. Today, I hurt, not for me, but for the People in New Orleans, my family, friends, community, world. And I just want to be mad, you know? It would be so much easier then to accept that things, the WORLD as we know it, is nothing what we thought it would be. That the dream of "safety in living the most Advanced Country in the World", has had turned into a hellish nightmare? Who would have thought that thousands of people who live in the Land of the Free, Home of the Brave, would be sabotaging relief efforts, out of fear they may not survive. Sniping medical personnel, because you're walking the fine line of civility and savagery? Today I am afraid. Today I am anxious, annoyed, crazed, confused, depressed, hurt. And today I just want to be mad, I do not, can not, will not experience another emotion and cry. I am afraid that my tears, much like the flood waters that cover New Orleans, have little if any hope, of drying anytime soon......