Long live the queen.

All the drama queen ever wanted was to belong.
Be loved.
Be useful.
Be noticed.

And I tried to kill her.

In some circles they call that your shadow- something so integral to who we are, metaphorically and literally speaking.

If you’re a parent, you may understand this.  One day, after years of wondering what was wrong with your child, why couldn’t they just pull it together?  Why were they so angry and emotional and desperate for attention?  Hadn’t you done everything you could?  Wasn’t their life BETTER than yours?  You wonder this not just one day, but every damn day of your life, sometimes, all damn day…But, one day, after all of those years, you wake up and realize; Oh my God.  I’M what’s wrong with my child!  I pulled them apart with my own life.  MY own anger.  MY own emotional and desperate attempts at attention. And no, you hadn’t done everything you could.  People will say, “You did the best you could with what you had…”  I don’t know what to do with that anymore…Do better.  Were their lives better?  Maybe.  Maybe they were just a different brand of worse.  Isn’t life personal?  Isn’t the interpretation of my life, my own?  Sometimes it was more than obvious that one or more of my children interpreted a moment in their life as bad as I had determined one of mine to be, even though to me it seemed far less…Sometimes a paper cut is an amputation.
I digress…or take the long way to my point.
One day I woke up and realized that I was the problem.
And not just to my children.

And then I  separated from my self. Duality they call it- and split into “me” and the drama queen.
And I tried to kill her.
But we are one in the same.

The life of a drama queen takes willingness.  Though you won’t know the difference between when you’re too willing and not willing enough.  Or, willing in all the wrong places and just downright blind to all of the right ones.
Insert song lyric here;
Love is like a barren place, and reaching out for human faith is like a journey I just don’t have a map for…

But something reaches out for you.  Once you circle back around to it.  Once you are within it’s reach.  Even sooner, if you are just willing to let it reach for you.

I don’t know what you call that.
God.  The divine.  Energy.  Collective conscious.  Wishful thinking.  A predisposed part of the brain genetically designed to hope that there is more than this to ensure the survival of the human species.
I don’t know.
All I know is that without the drama queen, the circle I walked to reach what reaches, would have been smaller.  Darker.  Lonelier.  Less encompassing and more suffocating.  I know that without that part of me, I would be smaller.  Less than who I am.  Not more of anything.  Not curious,  not frustrated to the point of change, not aware of what I’ve done that I wish I hadn’t of…Not aware of what I do that I want more of.

And I tried to kill her.

Until I saw her.
My strength.
My stubborn and tenacious ways of finding the answers to questions that have no answers, just to be sure that I have the right one, which is to say, I don’t know.
The courage to say, I don’t know.
My inability to sugar coat anything,
to say no to most everybody, even at my expense.
My witty sense of humor with an edge of brutality that most people seem to gravitate towards….which is odd, because it’s exactly those people that I somehow convince to look deeper and further out than they’re used to…
My desire to be so beautiful, so sassy, so tough and smart and courageous, that I often can’t see how I already am, always was, could never be less than, all of those things.

So live, I say.
Reek havoc and chaos.  Cry and scream and illicit riots of the mind, self and others.  Swing like a pendulum keeping track of timeless discoveries, and repeated moments that chime,
You can do better.
Long live the queen.

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  1. #1 by artzbaglady on October 14, 2015 - 8:21 pm

    I will always love you,

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