That's all folks.

If you want to get in touch with me my e-mail address is: roxxeekitty@yahoo.com

Love Ya'll!

Roxx
Out

Here we go again! Man is my life hectic. Well I'm back. Again. For awhile.

So I recently found out my son, my little Doodle, is Autistic. I'll tell ya, I didn't know how to take this. We've been pretty sure that this was the case for quite some time so I certainly wasn't broadsided. Docs told us to go ahead as if this were the case, but what the hell did that mean anyway? I must admit it's a huge relief to know the truth and be able to proceed. Problem is I really don't know how to "proceed". I mean speech therapy and socialization yes, but...what else? Is there a what else? I've been all over the net looking at info on Autism and reading what Autistic adults have to say and I've come to an awesome realization. My kiddo doesn't have an affliction, there's just something different about him than about myself. I read these incredible articles by this man called Jim Sinclair, who is an Autistic adult and one thing he says in an letter to parents entitled "Don't Mourn Us" struck me to the core:
"Autism is not an appendage Autism isn't something a person has, or a "shell" that a person is trapped inside. There's no normal child hidden behind the autism. Autism is a way of being. It is pervasive; it colors every experience, every sensation, perception, thought, emotion, and encounter, every aspect of existence. It is not possible to separate the autism from the person--and if it were possible, the person you'd have left would not be the same person you started with. This is important, so take a moment to consider it: Autism is a way of being. It is not possible to separate the person from the autism. Therefore, when parents say, "I wish my child did not have Autism, “what they're really saying is, "I wish the autistic child I have did not exist, and I had a different (non-autistic) child instead.” Read that again. This is what we hear when you mourn over our existence. This is what we hear when you pray for a cure. This is what we know, when you tell us of your fondest hopes and dreams for us: that your greatest wish is that one day we will cease to be, and strangers you can love will move in behind our faces."

So there's that. He's a bad ass, Hulk-loving little billy and I love him. If you're interested in the subject at all here are a few good links for ya. Getting the Truth Out and Jim Sinclair.

And now for something totaly different. The lyrics to the totaly awesome X-Ray Spex song "Oh Bondage! Up Yours!"
Bind me tie me
Chain me to the wall I wanna be a slave
To you all

Oh bondage up yours
Oh bondage no more
Oh bondage up yours
Oh bondage no more

Chain-store chain-smoke
I consume you all
Chain-gang chain-mail
I don't think at all

Oh bondage up yours
Oh bondage no more
Oh bondage up yours
Oh bondage no more

Thrash me crash me
Beat me till I fall
I wanna be a victim
For you all

Oh bondage up yours
Oh bondage no more
Oh bondage up yours
Oh bondage no more

And now for questions:
Do you or did you ever like the group Roxxette?
Yes and yes.
What is/was your favorite song by them?
Oh man, "Dressed for success all the way.

Out.
Roxx

Well, I am back. I wasn't trying to be all cryptic and stuff when I left, I just moved back to the states and didn't have an internet connection. I miss you guys though! ((hugs all around))
I'm back in Germany right now and people, it's colder than a witch's tit. (I always wanted to say that. How cold isa witch's tit?) Texas was nice albeit hot as the fiery infernos of hell. I found my dearest friend and promptly moved his sorry butt in with me. **Shout out to Dan Dan WOO!** <--I didn't mean that.
I hope everyone has been well. It will be good to talk to you guys again, I was getting lonely in real life.

Roxx

So I was looking through my old journal entries all the way back to my first and realized how many people I have lost touch with. I remembered some I had forgotten and realized how much of myself I have put into this little journal on a web site. I became some people's first SG friend and found my first. Some people I don't hear from anymore that I really miss talking to, there's no way to contact to them now and even though we may have never met in person, it saddens me a little to see their comments and know I can't hop to their journal and say "hello!" Some I met in person, there was one I was in love with. That's another entry...

Name changes haven't helped, I'm sure:
Roxxeelea
Roxxeekitty
Bunni

I miss you guys:
GnatKingClone
Grrlhavoc
SeventyFive
Peabodaddy
dg
Johnnysuicide
Kojo
SuburbanSlave
Isiah
DrunkPunk

To all who have responded to my entries over the years, those who have left me funny or sweet or thoughtful comments, those who are here and those who aren't-thank you for being a part of my life and making me smile when I check my comments in the morning. Every smiley is special. Don't forget to write.

Bunni,
Out.

:Simon is out too

Back in the US...I don't know what to think about it yet. It's odd, like I was living on Mars for 2 years in some ways. I've been busy catching up on American reality TV. I'm addicted. I love the Kathy Griffin show. It's hilarious! Still hoping to catch Queer Eye soon. Quasi_sean says it's the best so we're going to watch it soon.

We went and saw Eternal last night. Yeah. Hmm. Just hmm. It was beyond bad but the girls were hot, so there you have it.

In other news, well that's about all actually. Just reaclimating to this country and this city and this life. I miss Germany...I'll write more later.

Bunni

Am I alone in this velvet head? When I cried to you it was all satin and rubber gagging me tight and I saw the star of your brow and the slow hiss of your eye caught me and my breath was hung in the air, suspended as ice.

Where?

I look to my lunar sky and all I see is swirling cosmos and powder sprinkle; it is moving in circles all pulsing and dancing. I reach my hand to it but it is hung at the wrist in the leather straps and dainty buckles and antique lace. Clearly this is reality. We are the red and the blue, we are the alpha and the omega. It will all end in a pillar of fire and washed clean in the waters of the golden dawn. We will bathe in it and I will be bound and beautiful and renewed.

Thanks so much to everyone who wished me a happy birthday. It was nice logging in and seeing all those there.

Moving along, I have used my mad photoshop skillz ( I said skillZ people) to create a rad picture for the amazing

Nightmareheretic aka Theo aka Grumpy Bear. Behold my genius:


I am talented, that is all.

It was his birthday yesterday and I felt he needed something awesome. The man loves me, he must. We are celebrating our birthdays together when he gets back from training. Oh yes, it shall be suprmeme birthday fun. I can't wait.

On to the poetry...

Oh it's the deepest of blue that I fall into when I am sleeping and my mind at rest but I see these reflections and they haunt me like a whisper of your fleeting touch. Otherworldly whispers; I can hear what you are saying but it's a million miles away and I am asleep at the wheel. I am drifting in this. I am salt in your wounds. You say I am suicide. You cry I am the sweetest kind. I want to play these songs until they disolve and become fluid, until they sparkle like dew and I can see them dance in the early morning light with you sleeping still beside me.

In other news I wrote a letter to my Mama the other day and I think it'll be like a punch in the throat for her. I hope not but that's price of strained relations and reconciliation. Honesty hurts sometimes. I just let it lie anymore. I think I'll post it here. It's something I'm proud of having written after all these years and I've made a habit of baring all of myself here anyway.

This is a re-post from a group here on SG.

Obscure references I know. David was a close friend since childhood of my mother and her brother who lived in Milan, he was a makeup artist for Vogue and became ill after he contracted AIDS. He returned home to make ammends with his parents and die and he lived with us.

Dear Mama,

I wanted to tell that…I want to tell you so many things but so much has happened with me and with you I don’t know where to begin. Being here has made me feel isolated in a way, a person without a family. I know that’s not the case but it’s the way it feels. Honestly you were the person I always wanted to talk to when things went badly or I had some new and exciting news but your life has always been so full of other things and other people that I never felt I had a big place there. I know I’m most likely wrong about that but it’s how I’ve felt all of my life. I’m writing this to get all that out and I hope when you get out of that place we can start over and I can have a Mom. If you aren’t in a mental position to read this, please don’t until you are.
When I was a little girl and living with Grandma, going to see you was so amazing because you were so amazing. You were blonde and beautiful and smart and cultured and everything I ever wanted to grow up to be. When I came to live with you it was the same, I wanted to be just like you. You always stood apart and that’s what I want(ed) for myself. When David came to be with us I…I don’t know if I can talk about that actually. I loved him Mom. He made me feel special and pretty at a time in my life when, let’s face it, I was pretty awkward. I don’t know if you know it but that year was one of the best and worst of my life. Best because David was there and he was so glamorous and I got just the tiniest bit of him and took it in to me. Worst because that was the year I really began to loathe myself.
I had gained weight and my hair was short and I had zits, yes adolescent inevitabilities, but they cut. I know you meant well but your jabs at my weight stayed with me all my life. They still do. That’s when it all started. I have been told I have an unhealthy fixation with my body and I am beginning to believe it’s true. I can’t tell you how hard it is to look in the mirror most days Mother, I am never satisfied. Never. I don’t think I ever will be. I want to be perfect and it’s killing me to try. (I am NOT saying all this is your fault, I’m just telling you what’s in my head and what I’m really about. I took insecurity and ran with it.) I will do anything to be beautiful and I know that isn’t healthy but I can’t help it anymore.
The truth is that world is a cold cruel place that will take your flaws and use them against you and I know that now. Not to say there isn’t beauty, there is so much of that. My beautiful children, the man I love, still, cold mornings, lotus flowers, long talks with friends. I know of the good things too.
When I came back from Dad’s I was a wreck and I know you wanted me to put it all behind me and believe me I wanted to bury it so deep it would never come back up. I want to forget, I want make go away, I want to kill it. But I can’t, I never could but what I did do was hide it away and with it, feeling anything at all. I was dead inside. When David died, Mom, I felt next to nothing. I mourned but not really. It wasn’t until later, when all the feeling came back that I mourned him and it was a wave for me. It was crushing. I know that time was hard for you, I know it killed you to see that happening to him. I remember sitting by his bed one day, in his final days, and asked him if he thought I would ever see him again and he said “You’ll see me skipping up and down those pearly streets.” That line still makes me smile, it immortalized him in my mind. I don’t really know if I meant anything to him but he meant the world to me then.
I love you Mom and I’ve needed you so much in my life. All I ever wanted was to be pretty in your eyes, smart enough, good enough. I never have. I’m coming up on my 27th birthday and I can’t comprehend where a huge portion of my life went. All I can do now is make a new one. But old habits die hard and some get worse. My drive to be perfect is growing all the time, and it’s a beast I can’t contain.
I just wanted to you to know these things about me. Call it a confession.
I hate that addiction and lovers ruled your life. I hate that you let all that rule mine. I hate that I took care of you when I was a girl and alone and I needed you to take care of me. I hate that you became what you did. I hate that you went from my amazing beautiful (if untouchable) mother to living on the street and doing that poison. I hate that you let that awful woman break you down and that you lived in that horrible dirty house and that you let her hit you. I hate that I was embarrassed of you for the first time in my life. What happened? I don’t know Mother. But none of us is better than the other and I believe that. I hate these things but I don’t hate you. I could never hate you. You have always been my shining star.

I’ll write more later. Know I love you. Know this is just the beginning. Know I want us to have a second chance. Know that you are still beautiful to me. Know that I believe in you.

************

There you have it. Have a good weekend everyone.

xoxo,
Bunni

Ok so I'm out of poetry for the moment. So, I'll ask a question. I adore psycho songs. Songs like "Every Breath You Take" or "I'm On Fire". I have a fixation with stalkers. Meh, some people like cheese, I like the insane. So, my new favorite wierdo song is "The Nurse Who Loved Me" by A Perfect Circle. What's a stalker song you love?

The Nurse Who Loved Me

Say hello to the rug's topography
It holds quite a lot of interest with your face down on it
Say hello to the shrinking in your head
You can't see it but you know its there so don't neglect it

I'm taking her home with me all dressed in white
She's got everything I need pharmacy keys
She's falling hard for me I can see it in her eyes
She acts just like a nurse with all the other guys

Say hello to all the apples on the ground
They were once in your eyes but you sneezed them out while sleeping
Say hello to everything you've left behind
It's even more a part of your life now that you can't touch it

I'm taking her home with me all dressed in white
She's got everything I need some pills in a little cup
She's falling hard for me I can see it in her eyes
She acts just like a nurse with all the other guys

Say hello to the rugs topography...

"I am on a mission. A mission from God", you say. I watch as you tap your cigarette filter on the table. (All I can think of are the scars on your arms underneath your sleeves. They are screaming but never bleed. Not since...) I remember nights when thunder shook the world outside and I hid in your bathroom smoking menthols and you sat in the bathtub humming and drawing stars on the tiles with a Sharpie. Lovely stars that coiled and faded and blazed.) I know what will happen. I know you will be gone soon in a rush of water and blood and a gleaming silver thing will be all that's left of your agony. It all starts to decend to darkness but I can't let it go. Not yet. This is the last dream you see. I have to tell you. I am done with this. "I'm in love", I say.

"He's beautiful and he loves me. I'm going to get married and have babies and grow old."

"You hate aging."

"I know...So did you."

It was all so cosmic, you were the one. Reading Ginsberg and tearing pages out of our poetry books to burn into eternity. I watch the memory of your last poem rising up to meet the air and I know I can never have you back

You weep. "I'm a memory. A dream. I'm dead and gone away. Wake up..."



Wake up...



A carnival of lights and sounds and moans and screams and laughter and all this infinity and why? Why? You're gone.