Contradictory

 There are things that seem very contradictory about me. They make sense to me.

I think about the ramifications of choices, yet I frequently make decisions based on a magic 8 ball app. I identify as pagan, witch, with a big touch of hoodoo and voodoo. I know a myriad of deities, and I speak to them. I pray. Do I believe that they are sitting around somewhere, as depicted? Nope. I believe that they are identifiable aspects of personalities and concepts, and for me, prayer is visualization. I focus on explaining what I want or need, as if to a higher power, and it is clearer to me in my mind and mindset. I use cartomancy in the same way, it's a shift in perspective, it may make me see something in a different light, or from a different direction. I don't really beleive in fate, I believe in choice. Choice is sacred. The deities I pray to, and speak to? Mostly those of doorways and crossroads, and those tend to be the ones that focus on communication as well. Funny, that. All you have is your own choices. Make them deliberate. Or leave it up to a magic 8 ball. You still chose to do that, after all.

I have a couple of art type projects that I'm going to start writing down. When I was a wee sprout, after the debut of MTV, my brain had a vehicle to imagine things to go with music, little visual stories. I've done this my whole life. Sometimes it's choreography, Solid Gold style. Sometimes it's burlesque, which I love as an art form. I've always wanted to do it, but I'm not really attractive enough. I've always wanted to host it in a way that I haven't really seen it hosted, produce shows that are different than what I've seen. Different celebrations of the art form. I don't know how to do these things. Lately, I've been wanting to do a photography project, based on songs, I have the vision of what I want it to look like. But I would need models, and make up artists, and help making things. I know who I want to help with the making things, who could see this with me, but that is James, and that is still undetermined. I'm not good at makeup. Though I can see what i want in my head, another makeup point of view might make it better. The one I've been thinking about most, lately is the song Potions by Puscifer. Oddly, I would be the model for this one, which I've been wanting to do some of, lately. Which is new, for me. I know what I want the look to be. What shots I want. The thing is, if you are a part of any artist community, you know that artists, models, make up, hair, all of them deserve to be paid for their time and work, and I can't really do that. So, it would be the dreaded exposure, which I can't even really offer much of right now. I need to build a community of people who believe in the project, and would volunteer, for art's sake. I would absolutely pay if I could, even in the future, but that is a huge ask, and I fully understand how demeaning it can sound, so I'm stuck. Here's the song, if you are unfamiliar,  Potions. It's one of my favorite songs, it makes me wiggly in the pants bits. It seems like a bad breakup song, but it was written about the pain after someone dies. It's also a drug song. This is not how I feel about James, as my support group knows, as he knows, just to make that clear. I want every minute. I want more of them. My vision looks nothing like this video. It's black and white, and sexy, nad has horns and rhinestones and corset and boots. I have a dark burlesque number that lives in my head to this as well. Part of a show I'll probably never get to make real.

I'm going to rewrite my novel. I finished it over 20 years ago, I've rewritten it multiple times over the years. The characters and story have changed. One more again.

I have thrown a hurricane of words at James. I get very few back. Which is a part of loving him how and who he is. I can't say anything more, I don't think. I want another chance, though I didn't break this one. I realize I may not get it. He also made his choices. They say you don't get second chances, and that people don't change, but I don't believe either. People do change. I used to lie a lot. Because I was unsatisfied and bored. Now I value honesty. I did lie to him about something, I haven't been open with him about something else, about me, but I will. I haven't been completely forthcoming with my support group, yet, either, because I'm devastated and struggling. Turns out, I'm not just weak of mind. That is a story for another time. Maybe. I never want pity or sympathy. I don't want things given to me for those reasons. I don't want special treatment. I want things that I have earned.

I don't know what to do from here. I'm kind of just rambling. A few things that I do know:

I appreciate you for reading this.

I appreciate my support group.

There is no good way for me to feel supported right now. I know I am, but I can't believe it, or feel it. Which is weird.

I value your opinion. Though I make my own choices.

I asked for a choice this week. For someone to make one. I've never done this. Choice is sacred.

Another thing that I know. I want James. I want to be with him. I want him to want to rebuild something with me. Build something better. My feelings haven't changed. They are steady and true. I'm not being naive, or too trusting. I am neither of those things. My karma is clear in this situation, once I come totally clean. I'm afraid that the hurricane of words has blown him further away. But they are me, and my truth. I love him fully, with no reservations. I miss him like I miss the sun after days of rain. I know he's not a magic bullet that will fix everything. I know it won't be easy. But he is magic. As am I. And the potions thing, if there was a potion to make him be with me, instead of forget? I wouldn't take it. I want him in honesty and truth. Fully. Unabashedly. Whole heartedly. Openly. Truly. I can't explain in words, no matter how many of them there are. Me and my truth may not be enough. Just me may not be enough. All i can do is be me. I don't want to wait for years. I didn't break the thing. But I am trying to fix it. He may not want to. This is the first time I've lost someone this traumatically that wasn't by death. That I wanted back. Fully, not as something different, Well, I do want something different, a stronger romantic partnership. I am unabashed and unashamed. Of this, at least. My dead get a hurricane of words as well. But, this time, he can hear them. Or read them, as the case may be.