The conservatives condemn the liberals for being emotional. The liberals condemn the conservatives for their fighting. Both seem to have forgotten the others roles in this world. The strong aggressive fighters are here to protect innocence, the weak, and beauty from the dangers of the world. The passive emotional types are here to give fighters something to protect; love, beauty, and humanity. The world would be ugly without "bleeding hearts". The world would be unsafe without fighters. What a wonderful world it would be if we could accept the roles that each of us play.
I used to be something of a clairvoyant...a psychic. It's true. After meeting Joseph and Scott when I was 15, my already sensitive nature had kicked into high gear. It was the mid-90's. I was a teenager who didn't have time to deal with normal teen identity stuff because I was meeting new family, dealing with the family I knew, and coming to terms with all the drama that fell between the two. So, you can imagine that along with hormones, I was psychologically raw.
It was winter, after my A-mom (adopted mom) had died. I was living with my A-dad (adopted dad). I had learned a bunch of news about my B-grandmother (bio grandmother) and her extreme abusive side. I am not going to bash the woman. She is dead and I do not like to speak ill of the dead or judge a person who has asked for forgiveness. However, I will be honest.
If you read Joe's post, you already know that Scott (the baby), grew up with B-G. As I was getting acquainted with the family, they were rather forthcoming with the information of her reign of terror. Scott, living in her home...well, let's just say that he got the best access to the abuse. I'll let him share any more than that.
When I found this out, being the emotionally sensitive child that I was, my heart just went out to him. Here was this kid that grew up with bruises and name-calling, and still living with the woman at the root of it. My abuse didn't start until I was older. His sounded as if it happened right of the gate (so to speak).
Well, to make a long story short, I exchanged harsh words with B-G (details in a future blog). It ended with her threatening to shoot me (seems a little tacky now that I think about it, considering how mom died). We didn't speak again...ever.
However, this one time, she went on vacation to Ohio or somewhere. Joe, being the oldest brother and something of a wild hare, orchestrated a little get together with Scott and B-G's apartment. We knew she would be gone until Thursday. It was like Sunday or Monday when I got there. We KNEW we had to be out by Thursday (because aside from the shooting threat, she had specified to Scott that she didn't want me or Joe in the apartment).
So, for a day, I sat back and watched Joe, Scott, and one of our cousins bounce of the walls. I was a lot more reserved and didn't know any of them that well, anyway. Still, it was fun in its own way. Well, in the middle of laughing and acting stupid I was struck with this wave of...knowing? It's hard to describe. It's like someone has whispered into my heart "You need to leave. She's on her way home." I think Joe and Scott asked what was wrong. I just looked at them and said "Something's wrong. I think we should go."
That night as we were settling in for bed, there was a phone call. B-G had decided to cut her trip off early and was already back in Dallas. She was on her way home!
We scurried the hell out of there like roaches hit with a wave of light. Who knows what she would have actually done if she had found us in her house? I'm glad we didn't stick around to find out.
There was this time also at my home, when Joe was living there. I was struck with this feeling and went into one of our living rooms. I sat there in the dark, crying a bit. Joe came in and asked me what was wrong. I didn't (don't) like to open up really. It's difficult to share what is on my mind with most people. So it took some time. I eventually told him that I felt like we were going to get separated again. He promised that he wasn't going anywhere. Despite what he may have thought of me as a whole or how little I knew of him, Joe was ALWAYS willing to talk things through with me when I was upset. I only felt marginally better.
So, Joe left for school shortly after that. I think he went to Tyler. Months went by. I still had that feeling that we were going to be parted again. It was a "knowing", not paranoia.
Sure enough, a few steps down the timeline of our lives, Joe went to prison. I was devastated. I was scared, honestly. But there it was, my feeling proved right.
Even in dreams. I once had a dream that I was on the set of this movie being made. It was an X-files movie. There was this big war going on with big black helicopters everywhere. Mulder and Scully (along with the helicopters) were fighting these small oil-covered statues of liberty. These statues were trying to destroy different monuments around the US (the golden gate bridge, hoover dam, etc.)...Are you picking up any symbolism here? Let me help you out. I had this dream 3 or 4 weeks before the 9/11 attacks. Weird, huh?
I think my sensitive nature allowed me to feel things brewing and sense trouble. Sounds crazy...but it is my theory. That kind of thing happened a lot until I got older. I'm also not that sensitive anymore. Sometimes I miss "that" me, but maybe I don't need "that" me around anymore.
If I did still have that ability, I'd be making some spare change on a hotline.
-Nanaki
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