I found this a few days ago written on a piece of paper in a book of my ex-fiances, Sodas.

Anchor me.

Seven days have passed. I said I wouldnt call you.
Id do it on my own. But its very late at night.
This bed seems so empty so I picked up the phone.
Im so busy making plans.
But, I still need you to hold my hand.

Hold my hand and walk with me.
Help me find my own dreams.
My ship may sail its stormy seas
But, I still need you to be my anchor.
Anchor Me.

Am I asking too much?
Will you be there when I need you and long for you?Im not sure where we will be when its said and done…
But behind the darkest cloud…is still the sun.

Yesterday was quite a turbulent day for me. For the past…many, many years I have believed in and practiced Hinduism but have never actively thrown myself into the Hindu community out of fear of rejection due to my race, and my culture. My race is not their race, and my culture is not their culture. You see, in the society I live in, the American society, we are so disgustingly unaccepting of others, and others cultures and races that I applied that American custom, to their society also. Boy, was I wrong. Here, in America, if you are different..in many ways, lets say, you practice a different religion, you look different, or you are a different race…you are singled out, picked on, and made a joke out of. You are pushed away instead of welcomed.

I was afraid of that same treatment if I went to the temple and willingly subjected myself as a minority. Now, I have been to the temple two other times. Once I just went and I was very welcomed by an old, old, OLD man who taught me the correct way to pray, then I took two friends to the celebration of Navaratri and to be honest..I had no clue what was going on that night.

So, as a Shaivite, I woke up yesterday morning with one worry on the brain. To go, or not to go. So, without further ado…I WENT! Yes, Soda and I were the ONLY white people there. But, no one looked at us weird, no one gave two fucking shits about our race, or our culture. We were welcomed with open arms and I even got a SPONSORED PUJA. Yes. Me. I went up, in front of everyone, with the priest and performed puja, aarati, everything. It was so great.

There were like one hundred people there, it was total chaos, no one cared what anyone else was doing..unlike church where youre made to sit down, shut up, and listen to some old dude talk about shit you dont care about. It was AMAZING.

I think this sums it all up:

This entry came from my old LJ. It will always be important to me..so im reposting it here.

The last couple of days I have been thinking about my dad. For no apparent reason last night on the way home with my boyfriend, I told him everything.

Whats so strange is that its not the fact that he doesnt care about me that hurts me, it is his life and legacy that hurts me. Who he is hurts me. What we had hurts me. I want my daddy more than anything in this world and I have needed him for so long. Maybe thats why I have given him so many chances, each time I have just wanted everything to be ok, I wanted him to be funny like I remembered him being. But most of all, I wanted to feel like my father was happy, and ok. I dont care how he has made me feel, I just want him to be ok.

I’ve never been able to find it in myself to hate my father. I’ve never found it in myself to be angry at him for anything hes done. Maybe its because I see so much of him in myself, when I look into the mirror I see him, when I speak I hear him, when I cry I feel him. I am just like him. A man that has had little to do with my life, shines in me in an unexplainable way.

I have watched my dad run more than anything else. I’ve watched him run from life, run from problems, from love, from addiction, from his family. I have watched him mess up so many times, when in my heart I really know he was trying. I really know. I have watched this man that I love so much continuously mess up his life and all I have ever wanted to do was be there to make him happy and make him feel proud of something he created, make him feel like hed done something right. I wanted so desperately to make him feel like, out of all the mistakes hes ever made, that I wasnt a mistake. I was something to be proud of. I was his little girl, who was pretty, smart, who accomplished things, who made people laugh, I wanted him to feel like he really had a hand in raising me and making me who I am and that was something right. I wanted him to feel like he hadnt lost everything, that I was still there and I loved him I didnt hate him.

I know he feels like he has failed his brothers, his sister and his parents, I know that feels like he has failed my mother. Everytime I saw my father he told me how much he loved my mom and how much he wishes he didnt mess things up with her, and how he would drop everything just to have us back again.

I think about my dad, and I see a broken man. A man who has been broken longer than I probably know. Thinking about my father that way absolutely kills me. When I think of him, I think of a man who has tried to live right, but despite everything, hasnt been able to. I think of a man who has depleated himself, someone who runs away all the time and has lived his life just running and not looking back. I think of a man who feels as if he messes everything up and that all he is is a big fuck up. It hurts me to think about that.

I dont know. This has been the hardest thing I have ever written. A long time ago, the last time I saw my dad and everything was ok..I think Kelley was with me. We were in Oklahoma and we were riding in the truck listening to some of his cds, he was making us listen to his country music, hah. Well, he played this song that he said was the theme of his life and when I heard it in the truck that day, it made my heart hurt really bad.

I downloaded that song tonight. Its hard to listen to.

I’ve dealt with my ghosts and faced all my demons
Finally content with a past I regret
I’ve found you find strength in your moments of weakness
For once I’m at peace with myself
I’ve been burdened with blame, trapped in the past for too long
I’m movin’ on

I’ve lived in this place and I know all the faces
Each one is different but they’re always the same
They mean no harm but it’s time that I face it
They’ll never allow me to change
But I never dreamed home would end up where I don’t belong
I’m movin’ on

I’m movin’ on
At last I can see life has been patiently waiting for me
And I know there’s no guarentee’s, but I’m not alone
There comes a time in everyone’s life
When all you can see are the years passing by
And I have made up my mind that those days are gone

I sold what I could and packed what I couldn’t
Stopped to fill up on my way out of town
I’ve loved like I should but lived like
I shouldn’t
I had to lose everything to find out
Maybe forgiveness will find me somewhere down this road
I’m movin’ on

I have letters from him. I have a letter he wrote me on our first Christmas apart. I dont remember that Christmas. I miss him a lot.

Now, I dont know if I will ever see him again. There was a period of a year or so where we werent in contact, I didnt know where he was..he had ran away again. But, one day someone knocked on my door and it was him. He had moved to Oklahoma.

I wish hed knock on my door again.

I found these today….

Hi Lesley,
How is my baby girl doing? I love you Lesley and I miss you very much. Cant wait to see you. I bet youve grown a lot. Have you decided on what you want for Christmas? Im sorry I havent sent your money for your good report card, but im in a position now that I dont have a lot of extra money, but ill make it up to you so dont give up ok? I promise I will! Are you helping your mom these days? I hope so. Youre old enough to help her do wht she needs you to help her with and know right from wrong and stay out of trouble. How is your boyfriend and you getting along now? Send me a list of what you want me to get you for Christmas. Ill let you go for now and write again soon, take good care of yourself and your mother. Shes the only mother youll ever have. Treat her with some respect, Les, she loves you and so do I.
I love you Lesley,
Daddy.

And Another..

Hi Baby,
How are you? Fine, I hope. Im doing ok. Just working a lot. Im sorry I didnt get to see you this summer, I bet youve really grown a lot. I love you Lesley and I really miss my baby girl a lot. I cant wait to see you again. Maybe at Christmas you can come down and stay a week, what do you think? My guitar got broke and I threw it away or else I would let you have it. Maybe ill get you one for Christmas. Do you really want to learn how to play one? I think it would be good for you. It would give you something to do when theres nothing else to do. If you really want one ill get you one. So what have you been doing? Tell me about school, whos your teacher, do you know anyone in your class. Take some time out of your busy schedule to write your dad, and write a little better. I know you can. Your last letter I could barely read. You can write better and I know that. Well I guess ill go for now. I will write again and I expect you to write me too.
I love you Lesley,
Dad.

Happy Fathers Day.

I am officially back from The Roo 2007. We left a little early, we were planning on leaving tonight, but to be really honest…Saturday nights do something strange to Bonnaroovians. They get incredibly disgusting. It becomes a putrid enviornment and in 95 degree weather, its not a pleasant place to be.
But I had a blast. Every fucking bone in my body aches, I can only imagine that this is how Jesus felt when he had to walk with the cross on his back. Yep. I just compared myself to Jesus.

Anyway…I saw a buttload of cool bands. I think the first act I saw was Lily Allen? Something like that. Then I saw Tool. That was Friday night. I was pretty pooped, and id vomited my brains out so I didnt feel like doing much but sleeping.
Saturday I saw Gogal Bordello..and let me tell you, they fucking ROCK.  Then I saw..dun dun DUN…The Police! Sting looked really old

The highlight of my time there was probably The Flaming lips…theyve created a perfect memory for me. But first, let me give some background info.

Ok..My boyfriend and I didnt bring a tent or anything, we were just gonna sleep outside in Centeroo (where all the bands play). Well, he got up at about 2am and said he had to go shit and wanted to walk around so I was like cool..im gonna stay here and sleep. Around 4AM some staff members told me that I was not allowed to sleep in centeroo this year.. no one was. I dunno why? So, I met back up with my boyfriend and we made our exodus into the crazy campground area to look for a spot that would be shady, so we could lay down our tarp and blankets and go to sleep. We found the BEST spot. There was no one else there..it was this small wooded oasis, the trees provided the perfect amount of shade and they framed the sky beautifully.

Ok..onto my story..
Saturday night we decided to see some of The Flaming Lips show..and it was fucking cool..I have to admit..real fucking cool. I started feeling sick (I called this the Bonnaroo syndrome) so we decided to go back to our camping spot..it was about..1AM. So we made the 15 or 20 minute trek back to our campsite, laid out our tarp and blankets, made our pillow..and laid there listening to The Flaming Lips blaring in the background..just enjoying being there together. Well, about that time fireworks started to go off in the sky in front of us, it was sooo cool..and then the best thing ever happened..
In the background…in that perfect moment..I heard..
Do you realize…that you have the most, beautiful face.

And the song played, while the fireworks lit up the sky in front of us. We both knew that something special was being created then for us, and I have never experienced a moment full of emotion and comfort like that in my life. It really was a moment that everyone in love wishes they could have, it was a small time in my life that felt like everyone longs to feel when they hear that very song..and I felt it. It was perfect.

Through all the pain my body is feeling now, the sickness, the trash, stinky people, nasty port o potties…

Im doing it again next year.

My boyfriend hates 311. But for me, I guess, 311 is like Green Day is to my cousin Kelley, its the bands we “grew up” with. The bands that were there for us through all of the teenage bullshit, from the time we were little, until know, the bands are awesome enough to still be around, and weve all kinda grown together.

I was jamming to 311 in the car and I had this memory of a very, very bad Christmas with me, involving my dad. And now that I look back on life, it seems like every Christmas ive had with him around has been bad. I dont know how old I was, maybe 10 or 11 and for Christmas that year my mom got me all of the 311 CDs, and a portable CD player to take down to Florida with me when I went to see my dad, for Christmas. Well, that same year my dad got me a video camera for Christmas, which was so fucking cool. That Christmas, my dad wasnt around much. He was hanging with his girlfriend, Kay. Ill never forget her. She was quite a bit older than him and probably a dope addict just like he is/was. Well, my grandparents had a pop up camper, and during that vacation I would spend many nights in that camper because my dad was off spending time with his girlfriend so I was left by myself, and I liked staying in the camper.

There was a tape, that I video taped, of myself in the camper. This is kinda hard to explain, but the view of the camera was my view, what I was seeing, and all you could see was my cd player sitting on the bed, with a blue 311 sticker on it, and all you could hear was me singing 311 songs from the “blue” album, back, to back, to back. Over, and over, and over again. That was the same year that my dad forgot about me on Christmas. He went to his girlfriend Kays house that morning and I guess he got fucked up, nodded out, and just…forgot about me. It rained that Christmas. That day, for Christmas dinner I ran down the street to my grandmothers house and ate dinner with them. Midway through dinner I started crying and I said something like “Why does he always do this?” And my grandparents completely ignored it. Just like I wasnt there, so I got up and ran back to my dads house (trailor) and cleaned the whole house waiting for him to get there. I had just finished mopping the floor when it was dusty dark on Christmas day, I sat down in a chair in the living room, and then I thought I heard his truck pull in so I hauled ass through the wet kitchen, slipped on the floor, and busted my head open. I got up real quick, kinda blacking out and dizzy, ran to the window to see if it was my dad..and it wasnt.

I dont remember what time he came in that night, im sure I was sleeping. I think that was the Christmas that started all my back luck Andy Christmas’s. Maybe ill go into detail about the other ones later.

But for now, I have another memory to share.

Earlier today, for no good reason, I decided to eat two Kleenex’s. Like, not EAT them, but just put them in my mouth, chew them, then spit them out. Totally gross, right? Lol. Shove it, we all do weird shit.
Anyway..it made me remember something…

There is this movie called “The Mask” its not the Jim Carrey one, its a different one with Cher and its the story of a guy called Rocky Dennis who had a very rare cranial disease that caused your head to be huge and really disfigured and just..I dunno, really weird. Look up Rocky Dennis and you might find a pic. His skull like, was disfigured and grew constantly till it just crushed his brain and killed him or something.
Well, I used to LOVE to eat paper towels when I was little. Id eat them alll the time. I also used to watch that movie all the time.
The last time I ate a paper towel happened one afternoon as I was shoving a paper towel in my mouth and walking past my grandmothers side porch, just after watching that movie. My mom was standing out there watching me and I said “Momma, why was that guys head like that?” and she said…

Because he ate too many paper towels.

I believed it, and until earlier I hadnt eaten a paper towel since that moment.

I <3 My Mom.

Well, my boyfriend and I went over to my old apartment and got out everything that was left. There really wasnt much, some cleaning supplies and the kitchen table. I sat in there for a while and as much as I didnt like that place and as happy as I am to be living elsewhere..that apartment was just so..”me” and I had a lot of memories there. So its kind of weird to remember, and think about what I was doing at the time..bad arguments, great times..just everything on the timeline of my life..

So, I guess I am *officially* out of there now…

I have a couple pet fish. I have, two black moors, two golfish (three until one died), an albino corydora, a chinese corydora and an algae eater. A while ago, one of my black moors eye went missing. It didnt look like it deflated, it just looked like it had fallen right out of the socket. I had cleaned the tank the day before so I looked around for his eye but I couldnt find it..so..I figured one of the fiesty ass goldfish attacked him and I moved them to a seperate tank. Sadly, they were kind of neglected. I did not care for them like I should have, it killed one of them. The whole time I was moving I also just left them sitting in that cold apartment. I am ashamed to think I did it.
Anyway, tonight they were still alive. So I brought them to the new place and put them back in their original, well cared for tank with all of their friends. They already look much happier. They are my trooper goldfish.

Anyhow..we didnt get finished moving until like…3 because Soda couldnt get his moms car until about 1 (she was downtown at some CRS seminar event)…I have to get up early tomorrow (today) and go to some caregivers class on how to care for people with different cancers and stuff..I gotta get up in a couple hours actually.

Guess I need to go to bed.