Showing posts with label marriage. Show all posts
Showing posts with label marriage. Show all posts

Thursday, December 17, 2009

"Breakdown of Words"

I am honored to participate in a flourishing exercise of "30 in 30". This is a challenge, not a contest, presented to the few willing to take it upon their duties to create thirty poems in thirty days in anyway way, shape, or form, no strenuous and strict rules, starting December 15th, 2009, through January 13th, 2010. (Twitter hashtag #30in30)

Here is #3 of 30 of the "30 in 30" project.

Ifeanyi Okoro II (CopperSoul)
Houston, TX




There's a brainstorm of questions
Pecking at the door like trickling drops
An insatiable inquiry that involves three words
Rain pours with its facial cloudiness
And then comes the tears
And blaming
And hurt
And regressions
And forgiveness
And realization
And...
The ands
The ifs
The buts
What if
There was no such thing as affection?
What if we all played hide and go seek the meaning of life
Under trees made with lies
And grass growing on regret
Drink from the streams of lust when we thirst
This sounds about right, yes?
So why are we banking on pain
To invest in death
Stock up experience but
Do this shit all over again?
I am broke.
No expense for forlorn loves
I give no credit to heartache
No IOUs to ex-mates
But somehow
There's always ands
And there's always an if
If there is no but
Would there be a spiritual lift?
I think people use "but" with another "t"
To get in between a crease of insecurity
Or false security
Or just a piece
But
People misuse "and", replacing "n" with the "d"
So they could combat solutions with more animosity
Tacking on terrible histories to price tag memories
Too high to pay for mentally
What if "if" isn't "if"?
But these two are needed for a shift
If you doesn't feel right...get uplifted
If he cheats... he drifted
If you're clicking on all cylinders...this is gifted bliss
Relationships stay in neutral sifting through bullshit
But
Not all vocab is necessary when loving is in action
So
Satisfy your conversations
With no ifs,
ands,
or buts.
And then you'll see clear skies in each other's eyes
If that's what the weather calls for in your souls
But remember...
Keep you speech short
Leave these words here in December.

© 2009 Ifeanyi Okoro II

Wednesday, November 25, 2009

"A Better Life - (Dreams)"

This is actually a Tweet-turned-poem, originally posted Sunday, July 5, 2009 at 6:02 am.


I will attempt to dream a better life.
I don't think I've ever felt this before.
You know, the effect of love gone awry.
Not of this magnitude.
Or latitude, longitude, or longevity.
Even readings show confusion
As I commenced to cast last night.
Give me strength to fight the weakness of the flesh.
The depths of my inept love still left, for her...
I'm not understanding why she's still in my dreams.
Why I'm trying so hard to move forward
And my heart will not get out of park.
Pulling over in three lanes wanting to lose control at the wheel
Letting go gets harder
Because of my grip on the thoughts of her.
So I grasp no concept of giving up so easily, yet, I'm
Asking ancestors to ease my grip & pain.
I feel they're granting me only one to deal
My dreams are becoming more depressing in a way,
But more informative.
More deforming to my inner child
Birthing angst and worry pushing and contracting
Cutting the cord to sever something I sought that sweet
I'm but a baby in this new found world of hatred of self
Trying to find someone to hold me in this time, I'm cold
In this time I am shivering in uncertainty
In this time her love may be grasped by another God
I'm praying to ignore this.
My hands clasped resemble hers of closed chances
I'm only walking, crawling, clawing, salivating, crying, trying to be
A man
Her man
But this man is not what a dream is supposed to be like
Cause in this life you must dream big to grow
I am stunting my chance to grow cause she's grown on me so much
I'm wrapped with her vines
I am sealed with seven curses of admiration
I am crazy with no form of dignity when dialing
Calling the good sweet ancestors for help
(Not divine anymore I will try to be tomorrow, mama)
When I don't wake up without my dirt
My casket of her thoughts of me
My suit, (mama, she had a suit for me, did you see it?)
My love suits no other for now cause heartache is
Too big of a size for anyone else
But a man can dream, can't he?
And a man can feel can't he?
So I feel this dream dresses funny, so it can't be here, no
Not at this point and time
And spacial tear
And cardiac wear on shoulders so narrow
I want to feel her in my sides as we blend
Shower with her skin to scrub my soul
Suck her tears from her cheeks and blow sandalwood kisses
Back to her heart
I'm not eager to live with continuous torture
I'm overanxious to see where can I die in her memories
To be resurrected from the lips of hers as she speaks of my name
To sleep forever as she marks my tombstone with
Eulogies and epiphanies
Sleep, to temporarily see God in the works
I am in the works or creating a mess of myself, fix me
I love her, but I don't want bad dreams or thoughts about her now.
I will attempt to dream a better life.

Sunday, November 22, 2009

"Against Forfeited Feelings"

I'm gonna try something new here...inspired by two people, actually.

Regina Agu, and a blogtastic woman who's Twitter alias is '@slim_goodie'.

I am going to simply empty what comes to mind, within ten minutes or so, everyday. Oh yeah, I will not always follow the English?APA/MLA writing guidelines...so sue me. I'm looking to do this to jog the memory a bit. This might continue past the new years...who knows? I do wanna thank '@nubianwriter' for tweeting about poetry!


the face shows anguish that I cannot see
cannot hear unless it's in my dreams.
It's synonymous with dreary attitudes and
un-heartfelt kisses to the back of the neck
as if it's just a fuck

painting pictures of despair
pays enough for bus fare
a penny for your thoughts on canvas and
spray-tagged walls
graffiti on the bridge if not for spaghetti string dresses with
cling-on pasts and Teflon cares
they snag it from the air

Why sister gotta get no-good
Why sistas gotta bet on no-better?
Weather is whether you like to make it rain
fists and arguments
the affections of the soul and flesh
separated by church and statements of
Jesus working it out
testimony
after ya mans wore it out
test of faith
after ya moms bore you out of second class citizenship love
on the backburner of freedom expressed

by constant depression and distress

I confess,
even my female orisa got me twisted
Changing my mind after i see my queens give brothers brain
then explain the game to the shame he once called (denied)
his son...sometimes daughter...
sum of all things times double the trouble
equals mass hysteria
History repeats, wash, rinse, repeats, spin
doctors trying to work on your self-image without
really examinin' the in.
So pills now become a sin

you pray on Christian Brothers to bring you back again
Come again?
take time to dust off the seat, and not the seated
conceit is only leaving you defeated
i'll be damned if one hasn't sunk to new lows
and old heights of bullshit just to seek closure
or one more screw turn
shades of life isn't skin, or skins, or sags in skinnies
or bling and swag-brag
she can't date your car, nor brand name tag apparel

Man, brothers should be looking to the stars to earn
like astronomers
reaching for the sky without the blunt smoke stack train
off track, but you blow my high for the same damn thing?
what's your point? love/all
stop the racket trying to ball with no court in sight
net gain to maintain our light, right?
but...

ladies, stop trying to pull men's chain about
him pushin' a band on ya finger
marriage is in the mental.
put a ring around that
not a pole on it, for it
fuck it
nor forget it

this here...this shit right here???
is.
so how about that shot of happiness and laughter?
it's an open bar to be raised.
a toast to intoxicated bliss
cheers to no lingering jeers.
Hold on to hands.
on deck
of cards played...two of hearts


Ifeanyi Okoro II © 2009

Saturday, October 10, 2009

(Im)perfect 10

The first 10 days of October. My sister would be approaching another year towards 30 (after me, of course), I would be missing the Capoeira workshop with the gang in Austin (9th-11th), and these days featured a dream that came to fruition about someone that's been on my mind since my break up with my ex.

These days approached so rapidly. I thought I would be able to accept the usual denial to talk or see the children from her, considering they weren't of my flesh, but of my heart, and we were split up. Then today happened. On a special day for the oldest child...a day after my sister's special day. She is celebrating two days out on he night as her fun as we speak.

So how would this present pan out for me, even though it's not my solar return?

I went to work, not expecting anything out of the ordinary, except to help host for the 15th anniversary of Project Row Houses' existence. Everyone that helped build this program and art-specified system pretty much showed up if they were available. The art was great, the children loved the outside, and best of all, I got paid for my toiling. Then I saw what I thought was something unbelievable and soul-shaking. At least to me. Corey, Cody, his brother, and his friend, Quincy. Walking towards my direction. But I didn't see the ex (Corey and Cody's mother), her new man, and most importantly, my sunshiny happiness in a sweet girl's form, Chloe. When I did see her, I was paralyzed, literally, in my position. My heart raced, and my hands tightened. She saw me, and that was about as far as we could share happiness. A few feet away.

It was so bad, that her eyes were saying "Remember me? Give me a hug, or call my name. at least!). Could she read my mind, saying "I miss you, babygirl! It's okay to give me a hug."

Seeing who I consider as still my Goddaughter, (regardless of circumstance) , Chloe, I was torn beyond repair. Not to give her a giant hug. Not to let her ride atop my shoulders like I used to when we'd go shopping or to the park. Anywhere for that fact. Not to look at her drawings and talk about her dreams that inspired them. Not to see her smile and not feel uncomfortable doing so, due to her mom and her new beau walking around, and not my hands holding her mother anymore.

Seeing Corey and Cody was just as difficult, staring at the boys, growing up, being their silly selves. Hell, I even missed Quincy, Corey's friend. In fact, that's who I saw first. Corey and Quincy. I thought I was hallucinating. I thought my dreams were coming to fuck with my head again. Instead, the dreams that I've been having in rapid succession have become reality. Just different scenery, and a slightly changed scenario.

I sensed that Corey didn't want to tell me about what I already knew, which was his mother getting engaged to her long-awaited-but-profusely-denied-truth-of-who-she-really-wanted-forever husband-to-be. I also sensed that Cody wanted to tell me as a secret in my ear, but Corey, knowing me like a book, prevented him from doing so. Maybe he wanted to tell me something different. maybe that his mother's new man was here. Maybe that she secretly said something to him and it's burning his ears to hold. However, I don't have the spirit to stomach news of anything else, except on how the children were doing.

Which set me well...
Temporarily.

I instantly called my sweetheart in confusion on what to do. i didn't want to see "her" nor "his" face, definitely. However, I was doubled over in pain and anticipation on seeing Chloe. NUMEROUS times she wanted to come talk to me. She even pointed to me several times to her new friends and strangers. Most likely, to let everyone know I was her godfather. I miss it when she called me "dad".

This is painful to type.

I was welling up with tears talking to Corey, hearing about his struggles with Algebra (I'd help him in math, always), his voice cracking and varying, his excitement of meeting me today, on his birthday, because it was some type of psychic feeling he had. He said he felt that it wouldn't be the last time I'd see him. I'm split on that. Honestly, I didn't expect the "family" to show up here. I didn't wish that. I actually just wanted to talk to them and see how they were doing, and I even sent their mother a message through the text and email to wish them well. I got a lot more than what I asked for. I questioned him about if he'd thought he'd never see me again, and he threw that notion away immediately. I told him to be happy, if he already wasn't, for his mother getting engaged. He was focused on football, being a year away from high school, and definitely about the electric guitar and clothes information we were talking about. It was like old times, just rushed. The air was thick with awkwardness and a wanting to talk. Cody was a hard case to deal with after the first time his mother wanted me out...actually, several. He became stubborn and unresponsive, which that is an unhealthy and volatile Cody. His mother once called me back to talk to him, and we patched things up along with calming Cody down. The five of us always had meeting when things got out of hand, or when we wanted to have family time. Cody showed me how to skateboard -- no lie. He let me know that he was failing, (I'm hoping he's kidding, or lying heavily for attention, which isn't cool, but understandable), and constantly showed me a snail with some grass and wheatgrass in his bag. I loved how they always collect bugs and insects. No fear. Unlike their mother and anything small that crawls. I'd always laugh when she'd run away, or asked me to kill it.

This time, I felt like the one who was running. Escaping.

Everywhere I went, rather it was the installations, or the main two-story, I either saw the couple, or the children. Mainly, it was Corey and Quincy. One house I saw Chloe alone from the group, exited to the next one, saw Corey and Quincy in the next one, Cody outside jump roping, and narrowly avoided going into the same house as the ex and her man. Why was II like this again? Have I slipped back into a state of worthlessness? Was I not ready to face the change again? Or was it a prayer answered, but not recognized, or not exactly how I wished it to be? Corey and I shared a bond that young boys and "fathers" had that were unbreakable. He relayed his thoughts (on what obviously something told to him by his mother) to me, mentioning that (after I apologized to him for my imperfections) he understood that it was wanting to go out and be free. I was hurt by the comments that were said, cause that wasn't my deal with the family. I loved to be with them. Late night movies, evening bike rides, four-square, park walks, IHOP dinners or breakfasts, shopping (especially when it was just the boys), reading time, video games (I mean, I am a kid at heart when I'm with them), and how we all stuck around during Hurricane Ike and the madness that surrounded the Election. A funny moment came when my friend, Yvette, came over to talk with me and we conversed about the situation. She tried to coax me over there, and made a slight at if they were looking over here, or were trying to come over, that I should pretend to be her boyfriend. Hahaha! Nice one, although Yvette is a beautiful woman (@YvesStLapaint - Twitter), and her daughter absolutely loooooves some "Mr. Res" - (Ha!) , I felt obligated not to over-dramatize this. I wouldn't know if it did work though. That would include me asking if she and her new man were "ok".

I'm trying to wrap my head around seeing them so close to never. This may be the last time I get to see them. I pray not, but if so, then it was bittersweet. My boss even slipped in a comment, seeing if I was okay, after recognizing they were here. I mean, I pretty much walked out with them, only a few yards away from where the new couple were. I would have loved to hug Sunshine (Chloe), my Chlo-burger, I'd call her. I am terrified to see when she grows up and she may never recognize me, or for that fact, doesn't want to. Her laughter was so odd, but familiar. Her smile was always a deal breaker. She suckered me into a lot of things. Hell, her birthday is only a few days after mine. We even share our moods and excitements the same way. She didn't hesitate to tell everyone who I was to her. I think she didn't like to call me "Brother Res" (an adoptive name given to me by the Row House families), but she loved to call me dad. My final memory of her was of me seeing her skate (which she and her mother taught me...actually, Chloe did). But the lasting one will always be when she looked at me when a waitress asked her if I was her dad (cause we both had locks). Today, she had on her mother's purple jacket, and it was one of my faves. I liked when she wore it, seeing purple is my favorite color. I wonder if she still wears the shirt I got her for Christmas (they celebrated).

Of course, my ex and her new man greeted everyone we both knew and worked with. I don't think she wanted to come near me, however she conveniently found ways of walking towards my area...with him. She said she'd never come to Project Row Houses again, because she knew I was working here. She even asked me if I still worked there. Maybe it was time, because everything she wanted came to her, quickly. A possibility of a husband, career pay advancement, a new vehicle (even though that was so packaged with him), and maybe even a new house. The tarots that my friend, @khimmy_J read for me months ago, mentioned that I may secretly wish that she would fail in this relationship, and that would make the relationship between us strained in a possible mend of a future friendship. I was on automatic when I met some newer people, and even better, as one person, meditation, rituals, and a lot of Capoeira helped me push this ill feeling to the side. Seeing them only makes me think about why I should be happy.

I need to do more for me in order for me to be spiritually free. I cannot expect her to be miserable, even if it was a blame game. Miserable is still miserable. I don't want the children to forget me. I even told Corey I loved them, as he was the first and last one I saw as the "family" left. I wanted to cry again. I am happy that I got to hug him. Cody kind of felt odd. But as Chloe tried to approach me, all I could get was a smile from her. 5 feet apart from each other. staring at each other. Truthfully, I would give anything to have my Chloe with me. She feels like my first born. The involvement with children is integral in any relationship that has any. The female may take that as a plus, or a minus, depending on the situation.

When February comes, (more than likely the last time I would get to say "Happy Birthday" to anyone in that family, before she abruptly locks the door of history on me), I hope to hear or see Chloe. If I can just bargain that for fame or importance anywhere, I would give it up for my little girl. For any, or all of them.

For now, I will be going to sleep, with the notion that this may be the last time I dream, see, hear or even have the opportunity to reunite with them.

I love you Corey, Cody, and Chloe (Sasori, Yo-yo, and Sunshine).

I hope somewhere inside you still love me.

Dad - (Ifeanyi)

Saturday, September 12, 2009

Q & A Games

So last night we played the "What If..." game. It was interesting because what I thought would be said in an abnormal conversation (if there is such a thing with me) was all laid out. She admitted that I wasn't boring, and that she wanted to know more of me. More about me. My admiration for her increase daily, however, there looms an overwhelming feeling that there's going to be some type of rapid change that will smack either one of us square in the head. Speaking of which, I like to poke fun at her head, although it's the cutest :) But, I digress.

The strong emotions I feel are unreasonably growing through talking and building. The game we played brought up future children, relationship tooling, and location. I'm not entirely sure if this is a fantasy waiting to fuck me up royally in the end, or something that is a delayed reaction from painful experiences, into a blossoming revelation of happiness. Oya is right there between us. Our ancestors are right there circling us. It's almost like a tussle for trust. A rumble for real affection.

The "What If" game brought to my attention some things in her past and my past that weren't pretty by any means, but that was the beautiful thing about it. We were ugly in our living because of the energies we were allowing to occupy our souls at that time. It's scary not hearing her, not feeling her by me, not being able to see her everyday in my dreams. We share dreams like pizza, and wash them down with interpretations. This game brings out the best and worst in us, and we play it without hesitations on finishing. We take turns asking and answering "What If" questions like it is an inning in baseball. Better yet, if one of us doesn't have anything ready to ask, it's like a turnover in football, or basketball. Possession is held by the next person. Doubled up. No fouls given. No ejections. We laugh, we contemplate, and we definitely reflect.

That's what's scaring me. The last time I felt this happy, I ended up in a relationship that stung after the initial break-ups, and the final one was like a foot on my neck. From the outside looking in, it doesn't seem like she's looking for lofty goals, but I'm realizing that the more we spread out our desires, the less I am holding off the doubts. I don't like doubting. I don't like fear.

I am a night person...and also an early morning person as well. Hell, if I'm up, I'm up. I love talking (as you can tell) and reading poems and quotes to her. She asks me to sing, and yet I'm not the best person to belt one out. LOL Hell, I'm just singing because my momma sang. I love melody. This woman is putting it back in for me. I have my own tune. She likes it. Question is, "What If" I am not supposed to sing to her? Hell of a question, right? I'm so affixed on her, that I want to submerge my emotions inside of her abyss of pleasure. I sang for my ex a few times, but I never really thought she was receptive. She claimed she loved it. I only sing when I play Capoeira, or when I'm teaching the children in the program new corridos (shorter, verse-laden Capoeira songs) When I read my poems to her, she is seemingly floored. Most of my newer poems are inspired by her. A renewal of my spirit, of sorts. I honestly couldn't muster up a true poem for my recent ex, nor any one of my exes for that matter, because it never came. My inspiration (or muse) usually is not the one I'm seeing or trying to marry. Why the hell is that? As she would say, "We have to remedy that, right away."

We fall asleep talking to each other. We sometimes don't even sleep. If at all costs, we're constantly doing everything that we'd do daily, and just add each other into the equation along the way. One time we talked for 18 hours...I swear it felt like it. It effects our work and our thoughts at times, so we try convincing each other that we must go to sleep. I wish she would, so that way she could tell me more about her dreams. Hopefully, we'd meet inside of each other's dreams and share a bowl of blissful ice cream, you know. She claims that she had a dream eerily (or prophetically) about a person similar to me. I can't tell you if it was accurate or not, because what stopped me was the fact that the first letters of my first and last name (although reversed) matched the person in her dreams. Not to mention the fact that one name was Igbo, and the other was Yoruba. Oddly enough, I study Ifa, and my name is Igbo.

I love her writing. I wish she'd write more. It seems like a female version of my life, minus some horrific experiences that were placed upon her. I don't think I'd be alive, or out on bail if I went through that shit. Maybe it's something about women who've been through pain that attracts me to them, because I feel as if I have to redeem. I think I'll be bold enough to perfect my craft, just because she's not so restrained in telling her story. I should be so lucky to live through and be more confident. She gives me that confidence.

"What If" this is right? "What If" I'm choosing door number 3 in a fail?

Know what's funny? My ex's children had a game we all played called "Imaginiff".

"Imaginiff" (Imagine if) I actually stopped living in my head and started living for the now.

Is her heart the "now"?

Friday, September 11, 2009

There Can Be Only One...(It Takes A Nation of Millions To Hold Me Up) - Oya Energy?

This is getting addictive. Same old Ifeanyi. Making his heart visible for the seemingly unreachable. Giving solely because he feels that he needs to. Sticking his hand out to pull up the downtrodden fellows. Something about my energy that drives up the stakes for my soul. Can you grasp any concepts, Mr. Okoro?

Oya doesn't see me as a forgotten child, so why do I find myself in the midst of someone else's change? Particularly, another child of hers? Those that features and motions point to Yansan's protected, amongst the streets and schools and neighborhoods? I like how energies like ours connect. I think maybe it's destined to meet with these Oya children and make use of our time. Now, I'm trying to transform into a better being. Eating better, working out once again, and trying not to worry as much, if at all. My heart, however, always interferes with progress. I lose massive amounts of weight when near depression after a heart-aching experience, I lose focus on my job when I am deal with its issues, and, worst of all, I alienate a lot of my current friends. Is that how it's played for me? I must admit I do like to be alone on some fronts, but not all the time. Last night, this shining star and I talked about being alone and how it hurts the soul and physical condition. Oddly enough, my ex never wanted to sleep alone, even when we got into huge arguments. Her children even wanted us to stay together in the room (mainly so they could stay with us). I miss it. Not the arguments, but the company. Feeling someone cuddle (yeah, I said 'cuddle', and I despise the word, even 'snuggle' has me kinda eh...) under you. I even used the word to describe what I needed to feel emotionally.

When I live alone, there is no worry. I live far apart from society, or someone that knows me. Not on purpose. It just happens that way. I dated Xaviera, and I moved out of 3rd Ward. When I broke up with her and she solidified my trust in her as shady business, I reaped what I've sewn in being alone and was evicted. I literally was evicted by Hurricane Ike to move into my recent ex's apartment. We stayed together until we just couldn't see eye to eye. In her mind, I was behind, and in my mind, I needed time to reassert myself with her. She settled for another person she previously knew and desired, and I again was evicted, but by her this time. I stayed with friends pretty much for 4 years. Even my sister. That took a while, cause I separated myself from my family. Another thing we've talked about. People of African descent thinking they are disgraced for staying with their family. What else can be done to bring separated family together, other than death? Marriage? Graduation? Even when trying to start a new family, such as my last attempt this past year that was unsuccessful, it's something that we look down upon. I even frowned at being with anyone after my recent break up, because I wanted to start over again, by myself, and no one to give me any lectures, speeches, or get well soon card sentiments. I wanted to be isolated. Is that bad? In a spiritual way, yes, because you decide to be bitter and encased in solitude to the point that you harbor bad feelings, even if the energy called for the relationship to cease, for now, or for good. Why get mad and set yourself away from your people?

In '08, I left a job that paid exceedingly higher than my current job ever did when I worked for them in the past as well. Yet, this job was a family that had dysfunction. The current job has very little problems, (actually it just started to surface now) and the children are just as receptive and loving as were the previous ones at the old job. There are parents that still consider me a father to their children because of my methods and ways I loved them. But I have no children from my being. I am a father-in-waiting. I deal with this one young man named Clay and he's constantly struggling to get shit right in his life. He calls for support, and I'm spreading myself so then, that I can't offer it to him when I really need to. It makes me seem as if I failed him. He does some knuckle-headed things, yet I really wanted him to settle down and think for a moment on the situation he puts himself through. He's like my oldest son. I hope that he can right the ship, but his timing is off in this fucked up world. Now's not the time to start getting it how you live. Time to reflect and then repair. Can I take my own advice? Am I having these dreams about children from my past for a reason? When will I be able to have a son or daughter? I would itch and scratch forever for a daughter.

I constantly desire to talk with Oya in person, or in spirit to see if I'm screwing my destiny away, or if I'm getting closer, but she's busy putting my scenes of my life together. I feel like the more I try to separate and be by myself, the more I develop a sickness, or some malady. Or a blockade. I've even lost 300 bucks to a woman, trying to move out into 3rd Ward again. What's that about? So I've assessed that there are meaningful and painful changes up ahead for me. I'm not sure if my karmic debt is settled yet, however I know I'm losing my direction after losing my religion (but when you let go of false things, someone or something should be there to pick up you and guide you...right?) So I've abandoned Christianity and left the method of respecting the ancestors' ways of surviving to that faction. I've abandoned being scared and started writing and typing and being more open to others. But where's my next step?

I want to venture out. Chicago, Illinois? Bahia, Brasil? Aba, Nigeria? Underground? This is the time that I need to die and be reborn. Mentally, I'll be better for my phoenix-ing. Rising from the ashes. I help people out to extend my life-force past forever. Yet, I'm slowly dying inside. Needing the backing that me and the shining star talked about late last night/early this morning. What must be done for me not to throw all of my efforts to everyone and that NOT be the last attempt to spread my soul around to everyone. I can't save or soothe everyone. And even when I need it, like the surrounding of family, friends, and loved ones...I cannot usurp it. Why? Where are my millions to hold me up? Just one true soul. All I need.