The Haversham State of Affairs. . .

Diary - Entry 28



Tonight (as you know I always have music on) , I am listening to Rosemary, Sammy, Frank, Tony and Andy (who is currently soothing this savage bitch with Moon River).  My son is asleep in my bed, my dog is asleep at my feet, the cats are curled up with one another and my husband is somewhere in Louisiana.

I have loved the deep south, all my life.  Much like myself (although it has always been impoverished it has always held its dignified and somewhat eccentric head high) through war, riots, high crime, drugs, gangs, corrupt government, the surge of unemployment, the rise in welfare (due to baby mamas and their animalist baby daddies) and so on.  She and always will be grand, demented and like me as well, retains a touch of "Haversham" quality to it.

I had the rare opportunity to get re-acquainted with an old friend and found out, quite by surprise, that she and I had, in some respects. . .come full circle.  It is fair to say that due to all parties concerned at this time, she shall remain without identity, for the time being.

While our conversation, took its natural path to the commonality of the past and I have freely admitted this in other entries. . .some of the doors I slammed, were slammed out of forced situations, uncontrollable circumstances and youthful inhibitions.

Somehow, with all the back peddled memories, fears, longings and regrets that we all possess, life works out the way it is meant to.  We each have a destiny.  A role to play if you will, that I feel, was pre-ordained, yet most of us stumble and fall many times over, during the journey.  While I struggle on a daily basis trying to cling to the hope that I won't land ass-up in hell, there is always that possibility. . .that the good things I have done will not have outweighed the bad.

 I, unlike some women, am willing to admit that on the outside, while I am a savvy, ball-busting bitch that calls the shots in and out of my home, the past and the relationships from it, whether they were short,long term or lifetime, each took something out or from me, that left me in a type of permanent survivor mode with pieces missing.

I am fragmented in my thoughts tonight, hence, I seem to be rambling, more than usual and I have a deep sense of foreboding, which I cannot shake.  Memoo would be so proud that my nerves can still be jangled a bit. . .