adult male rape, Recovery, trauma
YDP121315

A RETURN of PUNK ROCOCO

THE RETURN of PUNK ROCOCO and THE SWISH MAN
Material goods do matter to each of us, I suppose. In various volumes, intervals and sizes.

This week I rewarded myself, with what I consider to be an insanely delicious find. Falling perfectly within the spectrum of my palette of 10,000 shades of taste. A sweet gold rimmed, floral dusted 60 piece plus antique dinnerware set. Including traditional borscht size bowls and all the service pieces. With storage bags and custom cut protectors for creamer, sugar bowl, butter plates, relish dishes, pie servers and such. Offered up at a generous price, wrapped with tender loving care. As if I where any other customer at my place of employment. For the first time in years I felt like a “norm” member of functioning society.

Oddly, I emotionally tripped out for a few days in a entirely new way. “Poor me,” I caught myself in a cloud of old thought splatters. “I have no storage to store these pieces, when will I ever have a place to call my own home again?” “Poor me, boo-hoo” the conversation continued within. “I have no one to cook for and no kitchen to cook in with no presentable space to serve”. …

Reality check dude, gentle calm comes as the rivers of progress and light flow. Showers of gratitude relax the mind and soul. This is no longer a trip of baggage or drudgery. Although this mini expenditure commanded four trips of escort to see this snappy-set back to the abode where I stay. After all this was a labor of reward and love.

One more time, as often the case. I breathed in a breath and exhaled slow, accessing the truth of my current state. It was time for one of my progress inventory self evaluations to put things in perspective. This always gives me clarity and confidence. Allowing me to return to my core determination, without force or friction. I then began to visualize the future, bathed in glorious possibilities.

I remind myself, it really does not matter how many pauses there may be on the road tween now and forever. Forward motion is an action of many movements. Sometimes part of action arrives in the form of a pause. Even periodic steps of reverse movement, a concept I have become understanding of over time. Momentary backward steps are where I have learned my most valued lessons. I have become grateful for any periodic hick-ups.

Life need not be difficult, but awareness sometimes arrives through the struggle of figuring “it” out. As the mind, spirit and core-self stretches it functions much like a muscle, in the body becoming stronger and expansive.

Throughout all these motions of learning I try my best remain aware. That there is continuous, mass life magic unfolding around me. I remind myself to always be sensitive to this fact. Each day I thank the forces that I engage with. Also I have learned to take time to thank myself for both the large and little steps along the way.

NO SNATCH
It can be easy to slip into the travesty of re-victimization of ones past. For myself, trauma at times has left me feeling as if everything in my life could be snatched away at any given moment. This is a lie, permeated deep into my nervous system, mind and flesh. From past events that no longer need be my truth. That moment has past, ownership of the present and future now rest proudly within my own palms.

The on and off again retraining of heart and head can be kick ass fun. As the blanket of lies of previous beliefs unravel. Powerful new truths are spun and revealed throughout each day. What I love, and what I have learned along my rape and trauma recovery trip is. I do not ever have to live as I have post-trauma or even pre-trauma again. I can live a life WAY BETTER than the life I had ever known at ANY TIME in my PAST. From birth through my tomorrows-

The true beauty of my life catastrophe, is it has stripped me naked of every illusion of learned living. I have decided to refinish my life and re-stain it the way I see fit. I have decided to Re-master and re-mix the livin’ cluck out of it. And that is pretty fricking awesome. I am still laying down the tracks, like all of this life it is a work in progress. I am slowly nailing it with a loving heart and at times an uncertain mind.

MURK-SKID
Now when my head slips into murky thought. I find myself on the mend, swift and quick after each dark dip. The plunges are shorter, darkness is lighter and the length of less frequent trips has contracted. These days I catch myself before I hit any deep trenches. If I do hit a what feels like and oncoming dark skid. I find them to be nothing compared to the hells of past detours. I actually giggle a bit when a pop flash moment passes over me with it’s dark soul sap. Now it feels much more like a cleansing rain in comparison to the past pain experiences. These moments now tend to last seconds, minutes or an evening, tops. Mad applause, mad progress and nods of acknowledgment to the forces above, around and within as always.

This morning I felt a need to snap a few shots of my new fancy-ass dinnerware. To prime my mind with inspiration and remember that I have options in life. Once more I may return to the days of “PUNK ROCOCO” and dine in service. In the early 90’s, my urban cabin rocked from floorboards to rooftop. With a decor of vibrance and whim, often wanted I’ve lusted refine and re-explore this this side of my nesting visions. But I have been to scattered, to afraid and filled with self doubt. Now I am finally free to redesign all segments of living body, spirit and house. To entertain seems like nothing to some, after living in fear of people for the past four years or longer this is a massive goal. I am now ready to open the eventual doors of home now that the shutters of my heart are unshackled once more.

The greatest gift of my queer “SWISH” heritage (terms of my choosing). Is being proud of slapping together a mash up of razor sharp living with no apologies. Dripping with gold leaf, flounce and fleur de lis, along with crisp clean lines or whatever design collisions rock my trousers on any given day.

I now understand that I/we/anyone can live the best life possible. Unstoppable are we, nothing is unreachable, yes perhaps proper time may be needed. But our dreams, desires, and determinations are all in the works with our chosen intentions in motion. With our best interest at universal heart. We can live our highest truth and achieve our perspective joy.

At work I don’t believe anyone knows my full story, that is probably best. Only bits, chips and a few word droppings… not many in my “real” life know the full spun tail either, perhaps to much to digest for some. The mind gags with what it can not digest, as always I understand we are only human. I don’t think many can possibly understand. When a man looses everything, simple gestures of fulfillment can fill voids unexpectedly. (gratitude reflective smile)

Even I did not know how much one set of silly frilly dishes could mean to one boy. Who now uses the word man more than I ever thought I would. My grannie dishes symbolize more than a material purchase. Eventually filling a cabinet or being a beautiful presentation piece for a home spun feast. They are a represent progress, hope, recovery, discovery, and symbolic marker of rebirth and a return to a higher self.

Funny, suddenly I have a strong desire to serve salmon. With a side dish salad sound track of Edward Scissor hands, Berlioz, Richard Hell, Sex Pistols and Miss Patsy Cline. Along with a guest list of many for a dinner divine.

Through this experience I humbly have a greater understanding of the importance of my job. A not for profit resale shop. Helping the HIV and queer/trans community here in this City of Wind. A place I may not have normally visualized myself employed at. In a city I normally would not have chosen to return to. If not for the circumstance of a soul implosion.   I do believe there is a reason for everything, always with my choice to opt in or out.

For our clients and self as well, what may seem to be a simple and unimportant purchases. Really can give a lift, shift and roll to an individuals perspective on life and self value. When you have lost dignity, spirit, home, health, body, self worth and mind just to name a few. A bushel of dishes and a kind gesture can go a long way.

NO SHAME GAME
Some shame the need or desire for material goods. I feel there is nothing wrong with decor or a frock uplifting a spirit or boosting ones worth. Actually I no longer believe in most forms of shame. I do agree with many who feel it is the decadence and sole reliance on only the material. That leeds to spiritual, emotional and social debt. These are the track marks of imbalance up the decaying arm of society. Leaving one greedy not quenched, hooked and always needing more. I am quenched and I wish to fill many a goblet-cheers and may we all pass a gift along. Of spirit, coin or deed.

Love and Light Always
The Empowered Runt

A RETURN of PUNK ROCOCO and THE SWISH MAN

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Uncategorized

DISMANTLING

THE DISMANTLING OF SILENCE:
A journey of both soul and human experiences. A representational plunge, deep into a dark murky swallow. Of what eventually freed me from a life of collective shackles.

It is a visual story about holding onto the remembrance of light. Coupled with pilgrimages back to neighboring hells. While keeping frayed sight on the fact that there are no straight lines, in any given path. When capable I always choose to be guided by the undeniable wisdom of heart. A inescapable thud, when listened to I always emerge safe in places of rightness.

Part of the “DISMANTLING” is the acceptance of all waves along my journey and conjoining adventures. Knowing each round of illusional ups and downs held a lesson to be acknowledged and shared. No matter how brutal or light they may have seemed.

My seeking spirit often withered, or so it felt, yet never ceased. When tired and need of retreat or rejuvenation by exhaustion it would sleep. Continual adjustments to thoughts and perspectives, kept my will open to the shifting paths of the evolutionary truth. This has been my principle perseverance tool.

Through the weaving in and out of my constant seeking of answers. Eventually I came to a point where I learned I was able let go of all of my perceived barriers and reclaim my voice. No longer afraid, no longer silenced by the illusions of anothers power over me.

No gang, no weapon, no drug, no addiction, no partner, no abuse, no self doubt or criticism. No childhood history or other haunts could silence me. Unless I choose to surrender this illuminated power onto them. I now understand my power and that I have the option to surrender or uphold all of my choices. This is truly honoring life, to protect and to share all I have learned appropriately.  Understanding choices is one of the many gifts to come through the dismantling and resembling of self.

Now I speak because I have been gifted and fought like hell for this freedom. I also speak up for those who have yet to find their own voice. Their time will come, we all have our path of discovery.

Should you be reading and feel tangled by doubt. Trust that all is possible I know you will keep holding on. Stay strong or at least gentle and trusting that the impossible is indeed possible. Do not ever give up, we are all on this planet for a reason. We all have a place and a purpose, even when our human minds are fogged from greater understandings. No matter your story or your history, try to trust – hold on. Every second and every breath matters, every word and every experience vibrates with intent. I wish you peace, love, protection and perseverance.

When we reclaim our magic we can once again dance.

Love and Light Always
The Empowered Runt – lil Big R

THE DISMANTLING OF SILENCE

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Peace, Selfportraits
LIFTING VEILS

LIFTING VEILS

Veils are a tool we all use throughout our lives, they project how we would like to be perceived. They can protect us with keen defensive illusionary exteriors when we feel threatened. Veils and personas also rise up in any number of forms throughout the day. They give us face during job interviews and project the “ideal” image on a first date. These personal fronts also escort us through life’s many other awkward social situations.

Veils lift us up and boost our egos, often with props and decorations such as make up, clothing, drugs or alcohol. Veils can come in the form of another person, home, career or various situations. But when it comes down to it they are just that, illusions and there is absolutely nothing wrong with that. Although there is a danger when we buy into the illusions of others and ourselves. All the above that I speak of can be wonderful things. It is a question of understanding them, knowledge is always power.

I have had many thoughts running through my mind after this past week of traumatic violence here in the States. I’ve embraced the idea of looking past and through the walls we each put up. What I like about veils is their transparency, we can see through them. They are designed to be lifted, they are temporary, they only filter out surface fragments of who we really are. They cannot fully block or change what and who we are at our core. They have no power, again they are surface presentation and illusions.

At traditional Catholic weddings of my youth, grooms obviously did not kiss the veil at the altar. He would gently lift his brides veil, be it birdcage or cathedral. Revealing the truth trapped behind the netting of his anticipation. Of course he would find his mate and most likely new invisible veils would be woven and dismantled over the course of time.

All of this violence refreshed my retail trained brain. The very first thing I was taught was greet your customer. Make eye contact, say hello, make a connection. This is the number one key to loss prevention and preventing return criminal activity of any kind. For me this is the first step to loosing illusion. Getting to know someone-bam changes everything.

This fundamental concept began a web of knitting within my cortex. Taking this concept and applying it to getting to know my neighbors. This may be a bit small town sounding or a bit dated. But why not apply this format with people in order to slow the bustle of crime on a local level. Besides I just might enjoy it and what harm can their be?

The facts are, I won’t get along with everyone, the rule is be sensitive and honor my feelings without force. If I don’t jive with someone I can keep moving along. I don’t have to be a “Mrs. Kravitz” I can be a friendly and genuine, simple enough. I have lived in cities since I’ve been 17 and I’ve hardly known a neighbor. What I do know is when I have taken the time to connect with others I feel safer and grounded.

I feel a sense of community develop when I know my neighbors. A feeling of respect, a sense of security also blossoms. Statistics show, that people are less likely to harm someone if they have a personal connection. Despite what is pounded into our media saturated minds. Sometimes my concepts are a bit Pollyanna, I know this to be true. They are better than many of the alternatives, I’ll take my chances I have nothing to loose.

As a human being I do have the option to always walk into a situation and exit with kindness of heart. With or without veils, no matter how I try, true authenticity is monumental to continuously sustain 100% of the time. But genuine intent we can always reset if we need to put ourselves in gentle check. As always these are just a few of my thoughts as time passes by. I now leave you with peaceful sighs.

Love and Light Always
The Empowered Runt – lil Big R

LIFTING VEILS

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Video

KALEIDOSCOPE X1A: Industrial Worship

I stroll enjoying an endless sensory splendor, as life rolls and unfolds before me. Oh, how these sweet eyes of mine drink in the carnival wallpaper before me. A fusion of nature and man made discarded clutteorment. A perfectly landscaped oasis found at the edge of the expressway near my home. Many I am sure view this urban lot to be just another caged wasteland, hungry for development. A collective of bric-o-brac’s and forgotten city works battling battle it out with wildflowers and weeds in hopes of reclaiming ancient turf.

I see the music, I hear the joy, I feel the beauty in the discarded. This is my experience these days from the grotesque to gloss it’s all the same. Although I retain my sensitivities – Peace

Love and Light Always
The Empowered Runt – lil Big R

KALEIDOSCOPE X1A:

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Images, trauma

CAUTIOUS TONGUES


CAUTIOUS TONGUES
For those of us who have experienced a life altering trauma. Know that there’s a scattered assortment of lingering indiscriminate aftereffects. They stalk us, down the dark highways of our nightmares. We never quite know how long they may lurk along side us. They dodge in out of the bustling traffic of our minds. Until we are capable of managing this relearning the gift of calm. We make friends the best we can with are demons. And we learned to watch out for our red flags and alarms. The real work is with ourselves,  hopefully with an agreement to gently move forward. Our commitments requires time, patience, hope, love and support from others helps.

The complexities and severity of each individuals situation can vary immensely. For some a return to “self” never becomes a reality. Some supporters grow inpatient with the ups and downs and the time involved with our recovery. Naturally numb to the fact that set timelines do not exist. The healing process often is far more menacing than the initial inflicting event.

FROM MY OWN EXPERIENCE
A gentle word of caution to friends, family, lovers and others, never under estimate the power of tongue. Be gentle, kind, compassionate and smart. Try to keep in mind the sensitivities of the one in recovery. Words are powerful, healing, uplifting, descriptive, triggering and unintentionally they may also be hurtful. At times words stumble and rumble out accidentally wrong. Be cautious, we all need to think before speak. We cannot retract our words once they have been released from our lips.

REMARKS
No matter the situation, I think most sensitive folks share a universal understanding. When a person has survived brutal event, when they have worked hard, and suffered long. When he or she is haunted by their experience for quite possibly the rest of their life. Please understand there is nothing more offensive than to be told “Stop using your trauma as an excuse.” or “How much longer until you get over this thing?” along with any other of insensitive slashing remarks. I understand there are people who refuse to heal or move forward. They may be addicted to the attention or afraid of getting better. There are many reasons why someone may be “stuck” this is a topic unto itself.

It is unfair to expect anyone to understand the full impact from any life staining events. Unless you have walked at least one deadly mile in our collective shoes. I do not mean to suggest you can not be sensitive or tremendously supportive. I think like anything it is just impossible to fully understand. Whatever the situation is in life I think this is just a fact.

I am however empathetic to those who try, get flustered, get angry then disown a family or friend or even divorce their spouse. I have empathy for the severe dismissive’s and those who are blatantly intentionally cruel. I get that most likely they are operating from a place of FEAR. Fear for any number of reasons, inability to cope fear of the unknown. Fear of their own past, Fear of not being able to do more. Replace FEAR with LOVE and watch the healing begin. Take it slow watch the healing grow.

Love and Light Always
The Empowered Runt-lil Big R

CAUTIOUS TONGUES

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