tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-61684582930548753732024-03-13T20:04:39.170-04:00I am Michael, Hear me Rohrerthoughts, musings, rants, & storiesMichael Rohrerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03140945393060327908noreply@blogger.comBlogger388125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6168458293054875373.post-57951652675918544272023-10-17T22:20:00.003-04:002023-10-17T22:20:22.129-04:00From The Land of Tethered to the Land of Un: A Journey of Truth Toward Freedom <p><span style="font-family: times;">I can’t believe I’m starting off this piece with a biblical reference, but it seems apropos as most of us have heard the phrase, “The truth will set you free” (John 8:32, KJV). That might actually be true. The truth can certainly have a positive effect on people. It can also hurt like hell. But let me focus on the clarity-providing positive aspects of the truth.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: times;">I have long avoided asking questions to which I feared the answers. Answers that I </span><i style="font-family: times;">suspected</i><span style="font-family: times;"> I knew but didn’t officially know. In recent weeks, however, I asked some of those questions of my family, and I was graced with a bit of truth in their answers.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: times;">Imagine wandering aimlessly down a path cracked with uncertainty, overgrown with weeds of assumption, constantly trying to evade being ensnared by snaking vines of suspicion. This path is in the Land of Tethered and I’ve been walking it for a long time. </span><i style="font-family: times;">Avoiding</i><span style="font-family: times;">. It’s exhausting. I thought knowing the truth would hurt too much, so I avoided it. I trudged along, believing the “truth” in my head. I let the unspoken “truth” weigh me down. I’ve been rambling down the path wearing concrete shoes.</span></p><p><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-family: times;">Turns out I was right about the answers.</span><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-family: times; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-family: times;">I know my family loves me. But being loved is different from being supported. Love might allow one to throw out the welcome mat but that doesn’t mean it will open all the doors. There is silence between us. Conversations, when they happen, have moved into the zone of politesse. There is no depth, no revealing honesty. We tiptoe around each other, avoiding topics like religion, politics, anything LGBTQ. We’re on different sides. What I didn’t know is there’s a perception that I am selfish and self-absorbed. Those thorny words pricked my skin. Yet, I know I can be both. But so can we all at times. It was expressed to me that I am the cause of heartbreak, which is never my intention. But sometimes our actions and choices break the hearts of those we love. Sometimes even the questions we ask. My heart has definitely been in a state of break due to the choices made by my family based on a religious moral code. But the most surprising disclosure of this truth-telling delivery was the anger. I was on the receiving end of anger that I didn’t know existed. I’m usually the angry one.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: times;">We are not entitled to know what other people think about us. And we would all probably be better served not knowing. But learning the truth, in a way, released me. I was relieved to know that what I had always thought was the truth </span><i style="font-family: times;">was </i><span style="font-family: times;">actually the truth. I began to accept it. I began to process the fact that I will (likely) never have the relationship with my family that I long for or the type of support from them that I desire.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: times;">I was recently speaking with a gallery associate at the Bowersock Gallery in Provincetown, Massachusetts, about the artist/owner’s series of hot air balloon paintings. I had first seen a few of the paintings in the series in June 2021, when I was there to celebrate my 50th birthday. I was so drawn to them. Initially I thought it was because in October 2010, my best friend, on the occasion of his turning 40, had planned a hot air balloon ride in the Berkshires as part of the celebration. However, the weather didn’t cooperate. The winds were too strong that day. The hot air balloon ride was cancelled.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: times;">It was nearly eleven years later that I first laid eyes on Steve Bowersock‘s hot air balloons. Set against ominous skies, these colorful hot air balloons were floating toward something, away from something, through and above. They hovered in their dreamscape world, frozen but not. Were they carrying the rider into danger or transporting him to freedom? One painting in particular continues to fascinate me. In it, a rope dangles freely from the basket of the balloon, a body clinging to it. I can’t help but wonder if the person is trying to climb aboard or trying to escape?</span></p><p><span style="font-family: times;">(I want in.)</span></p><p><span style="font-family: times;">My best friend was on that trip but not in the gallery with me on the day of discovery. I wanted him to see those beautiful hot air balloons. I found him and brought him to the gallery. I hoped he would love them as much as I did. I hoped he would buy one and then by proximity I would be able to view it and contemplate its strange surreal beauty every time I was at his home. Alas, he did not buy one. And while he liked them, he wasn’t actually as drawn to them as I.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: times;">I’ve been to Provincetown a few times since that trip. Each time I’ve stopped in the Bowersock Gallery to see if any of the hot air balloon paintings remained. There’s always been one or two available. I’ve always gotten to see them. Ponder them. Wonder what was happening in their world. But on my most recent visit in October 2023, they hung in the gallery no more. Sold. All of them. And it was during that visit, and the aforementioned conversation with the gallery associate, that I began to think more deeply about the hot air balloons.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: times;">They’re untethered. They’re free. They can float aimlessly but they can also soar with direction. I want that. I want to leave the path.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: times;">Admitting the truth that I am non-binary gave me a sense of freedom. Learning what I feared was true </span><i style="font-family: times;">is</i><span style="font-family: times;"> true gave me a sense of freedom. What am I doing? Why do I keep trying? I want to be accepted for </span><i style="font-family: times;">who</i><span style="font-family: times;"> I am in all of my queer, non-binary fabulousness. Not despite who I am. I’m not sure I even want to keep pushing and trying to educate. I’m kind of tired. And that’s not a bad thing. I think my family is just as stuck as I’ve been but I don’t have to be. I can soar.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: times;">I’ve found a clearing at this juncture in the path and I’ve stepped into it. The clouds might be ominous but there’s a sliver of sun shining through. There’s a balloon. It’s beautiful: pink and teal blue patterned in yellow and purple, sage and red. I feel hesitant but I also feel the thrill. I want to untie the rope and get in the basket. I want to soar upward and float freely away to the Land of Un, knowing that even if a major wind blows me off course, I will be fine because just like the balloon I can right the course or even change direction.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: times;">Using hindsight, one can always connect the dots of a past experience to that of his present, finding greater meaning in something from then when applying it to now. Maybe the meaning is something he couldn’t see at the time. It’s possible the hot air balloon paintings </span><i style="font-family: times;">were</i><span style="font-family: times;"> simply something I loved because they made me think about my best friend and his canceled hot air balloon ride. But maybe they represented something that I longed for even before I understood fully what that was and how desperately I needed it.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: times;">Funny thing about this truth: it wasn’t as heavy as I’d feared. None of it. The fear itself is what was heavy. The fear is what choked the path, kept me tethered to the ground. I don’t believe the truth has fully set me free. Not yet. My fear did not magically disappear. But I know it has helped me feel freer. And while I will probably continue to fear the truth, even after knowing and understanding its benefits (it’s my pattern), my hope is that I will spend less time limiting myself in the Land of Tethered and more time soaring free among the clouds in the Land of Un.</span></p>Michael Rohrerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03140945393060327908noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6168458293054875373.post-17823692956836037742023-10-05T16:48:00.018-04:002023-10-05T16:52:30.459-04:00It’s More Than Just A Little Lipstick, It’s About Identity <p><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 14pt;">Oddly, I didn’t feel scared. This was different for me. There was a bit of anxiety pulsing in my chest, but it felt different than normal. The pulsing might have even been more from excitement than fear.</span></p><p><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="display: inline; font-size: 14pt;">The day after I officially came out as non-binary, I went to the Chanel beauty boutique at Saks Fifth Avenue with the sole purpose of buying a new lipstick. I am not new to lipstick or lip gloss, but my chosen colors tend to be pinks and nudes that are similar in color to my lips and therefore don’t stand out as much as they enhance the already existing color. These lipsticks don’t announce themselves to the world yet still give me the pleasure of feminine expression.</span></span></p><p><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="display: inline; font-size: 14pt;">If you’ve read my </span><a href="https://michaelrohrer.blogspot.com/2023/10/another-coming-out-im-non-binary-my.html" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: 100%; font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-size: 12pt;" title="previous post">previous post</a>,<span style="display: inline; font-size: 14pt;"> </span><span style="display: inline; font-size: 14pt;">you know how pink and red shades of polish on my nails once made me uncomfortable. The same can be said of lipstick. A bold shade that proclaims itself before the lips wearing it are determined to be mine is something that I have been unwilling to do. The culprits are fear and shame. Those two hateful siblings allow me to feel more uncomfortable in my skin than anything else.</span></span></p><p><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="display: inline; font-size: 14pt;">But, just like my desire to wear the pink or red nail polish, I truly desire to adorn my lips with color. And so here I am.</span></span></p><p style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 19px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; margin: 0in; min-height: 21.8px;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 14pt;"> </span></p><p style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 19px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: left;"><img alt="https://drive.google.com/uc?export=view&id=12OvClKQYZZddHWgwv0c6o_pZZccwepxt" src="https://drive.google.com/uc?export=view&id=12OvClKQYZZddHWgwv0c6o_pZZccwepxt" style="height: auto; max-height: 80%; max-width: 80%; width: auto;" /><br /></p><p style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 19px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 14pt;"> </span></p><p style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 19px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 14pt;">I knew that I had to face my fear of being seen and what better time than the present? The eyes were done. The clothes were chosen. The earrings were in place. The final step before departing my house was to swipe that color on my lips. And as you can see from the above photo, swipe it I did.</span></p><p style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 19px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="display: inline; font-size: 14pt;"><br /></span></span></p><p style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 19px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="display: inline; font-size: 14pt;">As I said above, I was oddly calm when it was time to leave my apartment. I was ready to step outside of their protecting walls.</span></span></p><p style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 19px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="display: inline; font-size: 14pt;"><br /></span></span></p><p style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 19px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="display: inline; font-size: 14pt;">And you know what, nothing happened. No one said anything. The negative reaction I feared was not expressed. As one prone to holding onto the negativity provided because of other people’s insecurities, I know how important it is to hold onto the positive ones. </span></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 14pt;">I’m working on that.</span></p><p style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 19px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 14pt;"><br /></span></p><p style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 19px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 14pt;">I also know that no matter how small the steps, forward is forward. I am supported and loved by the people that I have chosen to share my life with.</span></p><p style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 19px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 14pt;"><br /></span></p><p style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 19px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 14pt;">Courage comes from within. But surrounding myself with people who encourage me and lift me up and push me forward makes being brave a little easier. And with bravery comes confidence.</span></p><p style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 19px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 14pt;"><br /></span></p><p style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 19px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 14pt;">Today I confidently wore Chanel Mystérieuse lipstick. A bold and vibrant choice for a (hopefully) bold and vibrant new me.</span></p>Michael Rohrerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03140945393060327908noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6168458293054875373.post-62892813833784633072023-10-03T16:06:00.001-04:002023-10-04T12:35:42.801-04:00Another Coming Out: I’m Non-Binary, My Pronouns Are He/Him, But I Also Respond to Hey Gurl.<p style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;">LGBT Foundation, a United Kingdom-based charity whose roots date back to 1975, defines non-binary as “people who feel their gender cannot be defined within the margins of gender binary. Instead, they understand their gender in a way that goes beyond simply identifying as either a man or a woman.” </p><p style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 16px;"><span style="font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></p><p style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-kerning: none;">It can go deeper than that. Some people identify as both male and female while others identify as neither. Some feel that their gender fluctuates with fluidity between the two. </span></p><p style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 16px;"><span style="font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></p><p style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-kerning: none;">I am that. That is me.</span></p><p style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 16px;"><span style="font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></p><p style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-kerning: none;">I have written more than a little about my young life in small-town Kentucky. As early as three- or four-years old I <a href="https://michaelrohrer.blogspot.com/2014/05/discovering-and-outgrowing-my-mothers.html" target="_blank">discovered my mother’s shoes</a>. Specifically, a pair of white platform sandals. I loved those shoes. Who knows why? How often do we hear that children like playing with the box better than the toy that came in it? All I know is little boy Michael loved those shoes. </span></p><p style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 16px;"><span style="font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></p><p style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-kerning: none;">What I also know is that I always got in trouble when I got caught wearing them. I know our memories can cloud and change as we get older. What was once just a statement can become a stern reprimand. But I do remember the words always being a stern reprimand to take off those shoes.</span></p><p style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 16px;"><span style="font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></p><p style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-kerning: none;">I will always believe that this is when the seed of my shame was planted. And that it has been growing since before I understood what shame was or that I was feeling it.</span></p><p style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 16px;"><span style="font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></p><p style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-kerning: none;">I’ve written about when my foot had finally grown to the size of my mother’s and what pure joy I felt when her high heels actually fit my feet. I loved getting to stay at home alone while my parents were away grocery shopping or running other errands. I wore a pair of her heels from the minute the car was out of sight until I heard it pulling back into our driveway. Of course, I always made sure to put them back where I found them because I didn’t want to get caught. And I sure didn’t want the reprimand (possibly in the form of a spanking) that would follow.</span></p><p style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 16px;"><span style="font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></p><p style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-kerning: none;">Fast forward to 40-something me living in New York City. I was dying to paint all ten of my fingernails, but afraid to do so. I allowed myself just one at first, then two. I professed them just a part of my style. I always felt like I needed an answer for why I only painted the one (eventually the pair). My therapist at the time said my answer need only be that I liked it. I tried that for a while. </span></p><p style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 16px;"><span style="font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></p><p style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-kerning: none;">Eventually I felt brave enough to let my inner female show herself. But not on my hands.</span></p><p style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 16px;"><span style="font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></p><p style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-kerning: none;">I bought a pair of <a href="https://michaelrohrer.blogspot.com/2016/03/i-dared-to-be-me-and-i-feel-like-bird.html" target="_blank">Gucci platform heels</a> and I felt fabulous while wearing them and supported by those around me. Jewelry followed: cocktail rings, jeweled bracelets, earrings. It was baby steps in the coming, these outward expressions of femininity. </span></p><p style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 16px;"><span style="font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></p><p style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-kerning: none;">Eventually I got all ten nails painted—September 12, 2019. I felt complete. I was nervous to be seen…a man with painted fingernails. But I loved them. I had been denying myself this happiness of expression out of fear for way too long. The color was dark slate gray. A very masculine color for fall. Masculine. I remember thinking that. As if the color being masculine would somehow be a distraction from the fact that I was a male with painted nails.</span></p><p style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 16px;"><span style="font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></p><p style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-kerning: none;">The gray was fine and the reaction was positive. But what I really wanted was pink. </span></p><p style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 16px;"><span style="font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></p><p style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-kerning: none;">It took a while to get there. I had tried pinks and reds when I was still painting only one (or two) nails. The color made me uncomfortable. I found myself hiding the nail when coated with one of these shades. I was embarrassed by it. I had no idea why? Maybe because I saw pink as feminine?</span></p><p style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 16px;"><span style="font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></p><p style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-kerning: none;">Eye shadow, lipstick, perfume, and a white asymmetrical Halston jumpsuit joined list of feminine expressions</span></p><p style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 16px;"><span style="font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></p><p style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-kerning: none;">Eventually I succumbed to my desire and got all ten nails painted pink. It was life. It was empowering. Pink is so vibrant and alive. It has energy that no gray will ever possess. I became a pink-nail queen. I almost feel incomplete when my nails are not some shade of pink. I do allow other colors to live on my nails from time to time, but it always comes back to pink.</span></p><p style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 16px;"><span style="font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></p><p style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-kerning: none;">All of these things are mile markers on my journey: questioning myself, discovering myself, revealing myself, accepting myself (if only in small increments).</span></p><p style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 16px;"><span style="font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></p><p style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-kerning: none;">I’ve been questioning my gender for some time now, though I would always conclude I’m a cis gay male: assigned male at birth and living as male. However, the questioning began in earnest one day when I approached a person on my subway platform wearing pearls. I was curious if this person felt nervous and guarded like I always do when wearing categorically feminine attire and/or accessories. We got on the same train and as we rode into Manhattan we talked. She was a trans female and younger than I. She was kind and generous. She let me ask questions and she answered. She posed questions. After that conversation I couldn’t stop examining myself. I know there are a lot of people who hate labels but I wanted to figure out where I fit. I wanted a label to help me understand, accept, belong.</span></p><p style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 16px;"><span style="font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></p><p style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-kerning: none;">I did a lot of thinking. </span></p><p style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 16px;"><span style="font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></p><p style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-kerning: none;">I thought about how when I was a child I always liked to be the wife or girlfriend when I played house with my male cousins. If I could be pregnant in our make-believe world I was even happier. And I loved being a bride.</span></p><p style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 16px;"><span style="font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></p><p style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-kerning: none;">I thought about how I often feel pretty not handsome. </span></p><p style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 16px;"><span style="font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></p><p style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-kerning: none;">I thought about how I often feel female not male.</span></p><p style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 16px;"><span style="font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></p><p style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-kerning: none;">But I didn’t feel as if I was in the wrong body. One of the questions I asked the woman on that subway ride was: “When did you feel like you were in the wrong body?” She said she’d never felt that way. Her answer was a revelation. </span></p><p style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 16px;"><span style="font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></p><p style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-kerning: none;">I couldn’t get there until I got there.</span></p><p style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 16px;"><span style="font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></p><p style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-kerning: none;">I don’t feel like I’m in the wrong body either. I like my penis. I don’t want breasts. I just don’t feel like I’m wholly male. I truly feel I am both male and female, yet not exclusively one or the other. I definitely feel more feminine most days but the male side of me comes out to play sometimes too.</span></p><p style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 16px;"><span style="font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></p><p style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-kerning: none;">I admitted the truth: to myself and others. It's been there all along. I finally feel brave enough to admit it.</span></p><p style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 16px;"><span style="font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></p><p style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-kerning: none;">On October 3, 2023, I finally had the courage to say that I am non-binary. At the time of this writing I feel happy. I feel light. I feel as if I might be even closer to understanding, accepting, and loving myself than ever before. I feel like admitting this out loud to my friends makes it even more real to me. As if admitting it has allowed me to breathe in my skin for the first time in years. Maybe now I will finally begin to dispel the shame.</span></p><p style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 16px;"><span style="font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></p><p style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-kerning: none;">My name is Michael Rohrer. I am non-binary. I am human. I am gay. I am queer. I am a person in progress. I am on a journey and my most recent discovery is “huge,” to quote my friend Mandy.</span></p><p style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-kerning: none;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-kerning: none;">I am.</span></p><p style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 16px;"><span style="font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></p><p style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-kerning: none;">Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to go put on some lipstick then change the sheets on my bed.</span></p>Michael Rohrerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03140945393060327908noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6168458293054875373.post-13468963045435294842023-10-01T20:08:00.007-04:002023-10-01T20:08:42.135-04:00The Dying Friendship<div>It’s been dying for years, the friendship. Incremental steps toward death. Baby steps one might say. But here we are. A long and full history filled with experiences. Some so monumental they will never be forgotten. Some so silly it would be a great loss to forget them.</div><div><br />But the present? Well, the present seems barren of fresh moments. There is more silence than laughter. New memories are just old memories being rehashed in a new light. The connection has thinned so much that a snap seems inevitable.</div><div><br />How did it happen, this widening into a divide where once there wasn’t even the possibility of a crack?</div><div><br />Time.<br />Distance.<br />Avoidance.<br />Disinterest.</div><div><br />They all lead to:</div><div><br />Animosity.<br />Frustration.<br />Sadness.</div><div><br />The crack appears.<br />A little darkness seeps out.<br />A silence develops.</div><div><br />As the divide widens, darkness shoots upward from the emptiness, a wide beam, absent of light. Shadows of our former selves are barely visible through the near opaque twilight of separation. The silence becomes powerful but normal, expected.</div><div><br />Is it over?</div><div><br />Can the dying be mended?</div><div><br />Can the death be staved?</div><div><br />No one knows the future. The seasons change. But as each ends there is an expectation that it will return. </div><div><br /></div><div>Friendships change. They grow, they evolve...they fracture.</div><div><br /></div><div>Sometimes they die.</div><div><br />But…</div><div><br />Sometimes they last a lifetime.</div><div><br />That takes effort, communication, time.</div><div><br />To survive, light must dispel the darkness. The divide must be closed.</div><div><br />The shadows must become visible, break the silence.</div><div><br />If time truly does heal everything then maybe, just maybe, what is dying can leaf once again...and thrive.</div>Michael Rohrerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03140945393060327908noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6168458293054875373.post-21059961606741001812023-10-01T07:38:00.006-04:002023-10-05T23:21:25.446-04:00Seeing Myself in Jude: thoughts on A Little Life<p></p>
<p style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 16.1px;">The first thing I remember upon hearing of Hanya Yanagihara’s novel, <span face="TimesNewRomanPS-ItalicMT" style="font-style: italic;">A</span> <span face="TimesNewRomanPS-ItalicMT" style="font-style: italic;">Little</span> <span face="TimesNewRomanPS-ItalicMT" style="font-style: italic;">Life</span> is that it’s terribly sad. And at 814 pages (the paperback version) that was a lot to consider. But I found myself more intrigued than intimidated.</p>
<p style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"> </p>
<p style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;">At 10:49pm on the evening of August 19, 2023, I began <span face="TimesNewRomanPS-ItalicMT" style="font-style: italic;">A</span> <span face="TimesNewRomanPS-ItalicMT" style="font-style: italic;">Little</span> <span face="TimesNewRomanPS-ItalicMT" style="font-style: italic;">Life</span>.</p>
<p style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"> </p>
<p style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;">I won’t lie, it took me a few days to penetrate the world of the novel, find its rhythms. But once I did, all I cared about was setting aside time to enter it again, turn the page, find out what happened next.</p>
<p style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"> </p>
<p style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;">This essay contains spoilers, so if you haven’t read the novel, and there’s any thought in your head that you might, you should stop reading right now.</p>
<p style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"> </p>
<p style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;">Malcom, J.B., Willem, and Jude: college friends, post college friends, four young adults supporting one another as they build their lives in New York City, old friends. I have those friends in the presence of Neal and Matt. The novel’s four men experience a lot of life together in this chronicle, and so have we three—turning 21, coming out, learning ballet, graduating from college, living in NYC, marriages, cheating, break-ups, dating, divorces, births, deaths, laughter, anger, tears, silence, forgiveness.</p>
<p style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"> </p>
<p style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;">But <span face="TimesNewRomanPS-ItalicMT" style="font-style: italic;">A Little Life</span> really centers on the character of Jude. It struck me like a distressing blow to the face when I recognized my own reflection staring back at me in the way he feels about himself: the shame, the low self-esteem, the feeling that all good is undeserved. His desire to be alone, to fade away, to shrink himself into an unnoticeable figure—small and ignored. His anxious recoil at being touched. (I don’t so much recoil as I just don’t often put myself in a position to be touched. Yet I know my body craves that intimacy.) His fear of sex and dislike of it. (I fear men even as I desire to feel the closeness that sexual penetration can provide.) </p>
<p style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"> </p>
<p style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;">If you’ve read the novel let me state without further hesitation that my life experience does not mimic Jude’s beyond how we both feel about ourselves. I have not been molested. I have not been forced to be a prostitute. I have not been beaten to unconsciousness or run over by a car. I have not inflicted physical self-harm upon myself. And I have only half-heartedly given thought to taking my own life<span style="color: #007aff;">—</span>the pills were in my hand, but I didn’t have the courage. I have not experienced his trauma—so much trauma. I don’t know how he keeps going, keeps breathing, finds any moments of joy or happiness. Yet I have experienced people who taught me shame and fear, which led to <span face="TimesNewRomanPS-ItalicMT" style="font-style: italic;">my</span> feelings that I am undeserving of love or of a life without the expectation of suffering. My experiences have led to <span face="TimesNewRomanPS-ItalicMT" style="font-style: italic;">my</span> traumas. Mine. (I know Jude is not real but that doesn’t change how powerfully his story affected me.) We all have some sort of PTSD from the traumas in our lives. Comparatively though, Jude wins hands down, and I feel like a whiny bitch.</p>
<p style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"> </p>
<p style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;">I have thrived in the relationship/friendship/chosen family threesome that is Neal, Matt, and I. But I have also pushed them both away. I often feel that when I once again begin speaking about how religion affects me, about my family’s political beliefs, about how ashamed I often feel when expressing my femininity, or about the depression of the moment, that they roll their eyes when I’m not looking. I know I’m blessed to have them, but I also don’t see myself as easy. I often wait for them to say enough is enough and then move forward in their lives without me. Sometimes, I feel as if I’m trying to push them beyond their Michael limits so they will eventually prove my expectations warranted. This never happens.</p>
<p style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 16.1px;"><br /></p>
<p style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span face="TimesNewRomanPS-ItalicMT" style="font-style: italic;">Brother Luke to Jude; “When you’re with your clients you have to show </span><span face="TimesNewRomanPS-BoldItalicMT" style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;">a little life</span><span face="TimesNewRomanPS-ItalicMT" style="font-style: italic;">; they’re paying to be with you – you have to show them you’re enjoying it.” </span>(Yanagihara, 2015, p. 473)</p>
<p style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 16.1px;"><span face="TimesNewRomanPS-ItalicMT" style="font-style: italic;"></span><br /></p>
<p style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;">As I learned more and more about Jude’s life experience (the agony was often relentless), I felt gutted, sad, sick to my stomach, broken. When my heart wasn’t pounding out the rhythm of anxiety in my chest, (my breathing dancing in the shallows), it felt as if it had been ripped out of my chest. I wanted Jude to find happiness. I wanted him to feel safe. I wanted him to fight to get mentally healthy. I wanted him to stop apologizing for everything. I wanted him to share all his secrets in the hope that it would set him free. I wanted him to trust those who professed their love for him. But he didn’t, wouldn’t, couldn’t.</p>
<p style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 16.1px;"><br /></p>
<p style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;">We learn at an early age from the adults in our lives what is expected of us, what we’re worth, how much we’re loved, who we can trust. I know I was loved. Am loved. But I also learned to fear and to be ashamed and I didn’t trust. Jude learned those things, and more, but from extremely disturbing circumstances that no child (or adult) should ever have to experience.</p>
<p style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"> </p>
<p style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;">At 4:22 pm on the afternoon of September 22, 2023, I finished <span face="TimesNewRomanPS-ItalicMT" style="font-style: italic;">A</span> <span face="TimesNewRomanPS-ItalicMT" style="font-style: italic;">Little</span> <span face="TimesNewRomanPS-ItalicMT" style="font-style: italic;">Life</span>. </p>
<p style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"> </p>
<p style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;">I now know what happened next, and I feel relieved to know it. But I also feel tremendous sadness at the revelation. There was a lump in my chest. I’ve felt this lump before. I know how to deal with it. I need to cry it out. And while I had cried a few pages before the end of the novel, I needed to really cry. I needed to face my feelings and get them out of me. The first thought I had was to play “What Was I Made For?” by Billie Eilish. So I did. Music is magic at helping one express his feelings.</p>
<p style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"> </p>
<p style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;">When her breathy voice gently breathed, “I used to float, now I just fall down,” I couldn’t hold myself together. All I could think of was Jude as a little boy. (Me as a little boy.) The word “float” in the context of this song conjured for me images of that joyous time when one fears nothing. Memories of me playing, laughing, running flickered through my mind. Jude never really had that. I could picture him as a little boy, at the monastery where he was raised, happy in the greenhouse helping Brother Luke, the monk who had always treated him with the most kindness. This was before Brother Luke revealed himself to be the catalyst of Jude's ruin. Jude never felt safe. But I did, until I didn’t. I have fallen down.</p>
<p style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"> </p>
<p style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;">I bawled. I howled. I shook as I wept. For Jude. (For myself.) I held the book to my chest, over my heart, as if Jude was a real person and by holding his story over my heart, I would somehow comfort him, and me. I listened to the song twice. The deluge continued. I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t see. My heart was so broken.</p>
<p style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"> </p>
<p style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;">After the tears stopped, and the nasal congestion that accompanied them began to clear, I took myself outside for a walk. I needed to move. I needed to clear my head. I wanted to have a cigarette. I focused on my breathing, the inhale and exhale of the smoke, and the beauty of the colorful flowers still in bloom around me. I noticed a vibrant pink and yellow flower with a bumble bee sitting in its center doing what bees do. It was life. A little life.</p>
<p style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"> </p>
<p style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;">If I hadn’t seen myself reflected in the form of Jude’s own feelings about himself, I have no idea how I would feel about <span face="TimesNewRomanPS-ItalicMT" style="font-style: italic;">A Little Life</span>. It <span face="TimesNewRomanPS-ItalicMT" style="font-style: italic;">is</span> gripping and rich in description. But there’s no use wondering what might have been as I will never know because I <span face="TimesNewRomanPS-ItalicMT" style="font-style: italic;">did</span> see myself, and when the story was over, I cried for us both.</p>
<p style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"> </p>
<p style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;">Again, I know Jude is not real. But I am. I’m alive. I’m a 52-year-old man-child whose heart is old but tender because I’ve rarely let it get broken (no calluses). But I should be able to change how I feel about myself, shouldn’t I? There's still time, right? But will I? I’ve been trying for years, but I’ve been stuck longer than I was ever free. I know that I have to believe that I matter, that I’m worthy. I have to believe that I have nothing to be ashamed of. With each new day, as I wake to breathe again, I wonder if there is still a chance I will believe it. Will I live more than just a little life? Will I one day finally loosen the shackles of my fear and shame and live more freely, more fully, more vulnerably, more happily, more openly? I’m not sure I believe I can.</p>
<p style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"> </p>
<p style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;">I see <span face="TimesNewRomanPS-ItalicMT" style="font-style: italic;">A</span> <span face="TimesNewRomanPS-ItalicMT" style="font-style: italic;">Little</span> <span face="TimesNewRomanPS-ItalicMT" style="font-style: italic;">Life</span> as a story of friendship: its challenges and rewards. I see it as a love story: unexpected and thrilling. It’s also a story of child abuse and its detrimental effects. It’s a story of physical damage that, for Jude, is too difficult to overcome. It made me think about my life, my friends, my family, the relationships that still exist and the ones I’ve walked away from. My anger. My avoidance of vulnerability. My internalized homo- and femmephobia. The dates I wouldn’t go on. The sex I’ve refused to have. The loneliness cultivated by solitude. All the wasted years. </p>
<p style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"> </p>
<p style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;">Referencing the aforementioned Billie Eilish song again, these lyrics weigh heavily on my heart: “Think I forgot how to be happy. Something I’m not, but something I can be.” It isn’t that I’m always sad. There is joy. There is happiness. They’re just harder for me to hold on to.</p>
<p style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"> </p>
<p style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;">This story clearly had a profound effect on me. Jude’s story touched me deeply. It is one that I will not soon forget. I may never forget it. And even though its pages are singed with sadness, it is quite possibly a book that I will one day read again</p>Michael Rohrerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03140945393060327908noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6168458293054875373.post-13050700561511102392023-09-30T19:00:00.000-04:002023-09-30T19:00:09.634-04:00Life After Death <p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 19px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody;">What if I invited Death in?</span></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 19px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody;">Let him curl my lashes,</span></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 19px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody;">Apply my mascara?</span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 19px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 24px;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody;"></span><br /></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 19px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody;">What if I invited Death in</span></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 19px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody;">And we spent together</span></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 19px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody;">A day filled with laughter?</span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 19px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 24px;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody;"></span><br /></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 19px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody;">What if I invited Death in</span></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 19px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody;">And I wasn’t afraid,</span></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 19px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody;">Found him handsome and sweet?</span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 19px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 24px;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody;"></span><br /></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 19px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody;">What if I invited Death in </span></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 19px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody;">And we drank French red wine,</span></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 19px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody;">Ate oven-warm Brie cheese?</span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 19px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 24px;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody;"></span><br /></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 19px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody;">What if I invited Death in</span></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 19px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody;">And all my fears vanished</span></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 19px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody;">Like vapor in the sun?</span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 19px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 24px;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody;"></span><br /></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 19px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody;">What if I invited Death in</span></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 19px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody;">And he caressed my face,</span></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 19px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody;">Danced me like a lover?</span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 19px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 24px;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody;"></span><br /></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 19px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody;">What if I invited Death in</span></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 19px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody;">And in his embrace I</span></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 19px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody;">Was finally alive?</span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 19px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 24px;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody;"></span><br /></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 19px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody;">What if I invited Death in</span></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 19px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody;">And he filled me with love</span></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 19px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody;">And I was fully whole</span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 19px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 24px;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody;"></span><br /></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 19px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody;">What if I invited Death in</span></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 19px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody;">And for the first time I</span></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 19px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody;">Felt no shame in myself?</span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 19px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 24px;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody;"></span><br /></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 19px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody;">What if I invited Death in </span></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 19px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody;">And we walked hand in hand</span></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 19px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody;">While talking about time</span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 19px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 24px;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody;"></span><br /></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 19px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody;">What if we saw his old friend, Life? </span></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 19px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody;">And Life was more winsome, </span></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 19px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody;">More fearless, more alive?</span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 19px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 24px;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody;"></span><br /></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 19px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody;">What if I was smitten with Life?</span></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 19px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody;">His smile, his laugh, his eyes?</span></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 19px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody;">And he reached for my hand?</span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 19px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 24px;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody;"></span><br /></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 19px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody;">(The air quickens, the light changes, a thought occurs)</span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 19px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 24px;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody;"></span><br /></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 19px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody;">What if I invited Life in?</span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 19px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 24px;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody;"></span><br /></p>Michael Rohrerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03140945393060327908noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6168458293054875373.post-10557526648314605772023-09-07T16:27:00.005-04:002023-09-07T16:27:54.059-04:00The Conditioning of My Gay Anxiety<p style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-kerning: none;">Nick is walking down the street. The camera shot is a close-up of his face. He’s beaming. Filled with joy. His smile encompasses his mouth, his eyes, his hair. He is happy. It’s obvious.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 16px;"><span style="font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></p>
<p style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-kerning: none;">I find myself anxious. I expect the camera to pull back and reveal impending doom.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 16px;"><span style="font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></p>
<p style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-kerning: none;">(Spoiler alert: this is the final scene of season two, episode one of the endearingly sweet Netflix series, <i>Heartstopper, </i>created and written by Alice Oseman, based on her graphic novel.)</span></p>
<p style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 16px;"><span style="font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></p>
<p style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-kerning: none;">The more I thought about the anxiety I was experiencing, the more I realized I’ve been conditioned to expect shame, tragedy, and sadness. At least where gay stories are concerned. I expected there to be a bully. I felt my body tense as I prepared for a verbal attack of faggot or queer. My heartbeat sped up as I feared a fist would invade the frame of the shot and punch the smile off Nick’s face.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 16px;"><span style="font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></p>
<p style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-kerning: none;">But nothing happened to Nick. His smile remained. His joy was uninterrupted.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 16px;"><span style="font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></p>
<p style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-kerning: none;">I, however, had to take a pause.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 16px;"><span style="font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></p>
<p style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-kerning: none;">Upon sharing my experience with two of my gay coworkers, who also watch the series, they too admitted a feeling of anxiety in that same moment. We have not been conditioned to sit back and watch an LGBTQ story play out in film or television that is set in a world of pure gay joy. We’ve been conditioned to expect adversity.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 16px;"><span style="font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></p>
<p style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-kerning: none;">How thrilling it would be to live in a world without this homophobic bully-induced anxiety. As a queer fem human, who is still questioning where he fits on the gender spectrum, I think I would thrive.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 16px;"><span style="font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></p>
<p style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-kerning: none;">Before I step outside my apartment building, I typically feel fabulous, proud, and joyous in my flourishes of nail polish or a cocktail-style ring or high heels or eye makeup. But the minute I step out into the world, I am on guard. Preparing. No matter how many times nothing negative happens to me, I am always on guard. I have been conditioned to be so. Having an awareness of one’s surroundings isn’t a bad thing. But expecting strife is.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 16px;"><span style="font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></p>
<p style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-kerning: none;">It’s disquieting that I can more easily recall the pain and shame I felt when a group of men called me a faggot (for no other reason than they could) as I passed them to enter the building where I work than, say, the positive reinforcement from people who go out of their way to complement my nails or eyes or whatever it is. That’s because the negative moments are more traumatic. They carve out a place in my memories and live there in a darkened corner waiting to remind me why joy is more fleeting than heartache. I wish I knew how to store all the positive experiences the same way. Why do I give more credence to being called a faggot than to being complemented on my choice of nail color…by a straight man no less?</span></p>
<p style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 16px;"><span style="font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></p>
<p style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-kerning: none;">For the record, <i>Heartstopper</i> has proven itself to be nothing but gay joy. That isn’t to say that there aren’t negative experiences within its episodes. But overall, there was no reason for me to anticipate that expected adversity. That’s not the world Nick lives in. I wish I could live in his world.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 16px;"><span style="font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></p>
<p style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-kerning: none;">Gay joy is something I strive to hold on to. And even though I haven’t found that easy, I am grateful for the pure joy of <i>Heartstopper</i> as reference.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 16px;"><span style="font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></p>
<p style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-kerning: none;">In my world, I think it’s time to recondition my condition.</span></p>Michael Rohrerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03140945393060327908noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6168458293054875373.post-4093174477935499492023-07-31T10:10:00.001-04:002023-07-31T11:53:21.723-04:00Room Fourteen: A Companion<div><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;">A room has four walls.</span></span></div><div><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">It’s a holding space,</span></div><div><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">A hiding place,</span></div><div><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">A sanctuary.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;">Many things can happen in a room.</span></span></div><div><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">Death, for instance.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">In room fourteen there was death,</span></div><div><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">Yes.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">I’m sure the walls had witnessed it before.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">But on this day they observed so much more:</span></div><div><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">There was Love,</span></div><div><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">Laughter,</span></div><div><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">Support,</span></div><div><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">Breathing.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">There was Singing.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">I was there. I heard it.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">That room, its walls, guarded a Landslide of emotions…</span></div><div><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">Sympathy,</span></div><div><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">Fear,</span></div><div><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">Sadness.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">But also Joy.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">I was there. I felt it.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">There was remembering happier times.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">There was letting go.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">There was surviving.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">There was darkness…</span></div><div><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">But also sunshine.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">In room fourteen there was death,</span></div><div><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">Yes.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">There was stillness</span></div><div><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">If not quiet.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">But there was also life,</span></div><div><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">And release;</span></div><div><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">A gentle fading away.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">I was there. I saw him </span></div><div><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">As he soared toward San Antone.</span><p class="p2" style="-webkit-font-kerning: auto; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 24px;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-font-kerning: auto; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 24px;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-font-kerning: auto; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 24px;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-font-kerning: auto; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 24px;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-font-kerning: auto; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 24px;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-font-kerning: auto; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 24px;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-font-kerning: auto; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 24px;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-font-kerning: auto; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 24px;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-font-kerning: auto; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 24px;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-font-kerning: auto; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 24px;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-font-kerning: auto; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 24px;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-font-kerning: auto; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 24px;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-font-kerning: auto; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 24px;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-font-kerning: auto; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 24px;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-font-kerning: auto; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 24px;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-font-kerning: auto; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 24px;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-font-kerning: auto; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 24px;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-font-kerning: auto; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 24px;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-font-kerning: auto; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 24px;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-font-kerning: auto; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 24px;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-font-kerning: auto; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 24px;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-font-kerning: auto; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 24px;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-font-kerning: auto; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 24px;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-font-kerning: auto; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 24px;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-font-kerning: auto; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 24px;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-font-kerning: auto; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 24px;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-font-kerning: auto; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 24px;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-font-kerning: auto; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 24px;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-font-kerning: auto; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 24px;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-font-kerning: auto; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 24px;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-font-kerning: auto; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 24px;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-font-kerning: auto; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 24px;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-font-kerning: auto; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 24px;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-font-kerning: auto; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 24px;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-font-kerning: auto; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 24px;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-font-kerning: auto; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 24px;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-font-kerning: auto; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 24px;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-font-kerning: auto; 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-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 24px;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-font-kerning: auto; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 24px;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-font-kerning: auto; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 24px;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-font-kerning: auto; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 24px;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-font-kerning: auto; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 24px;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-font-kerning: auto; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 24px;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-font-kerning: auto; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 24px;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-font-kerning: auto; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 24px;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-font-kerning: auto; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 24px;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-font-kerning: auto; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 24px;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-font-kerning: auto; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 24px;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-font-kerning: auto; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 24px;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-font-kerning: auto; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 24px;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-font-kerning: auto; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 24px;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-font-kerning: auto; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 24px;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-font-kerning: auto; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 24px;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-font-kerning: auto; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 24px;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-font-kerning: auto; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 24px;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-font-kerning: auto; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 24px;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-font-kerning: auto; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 24px;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-font-kerning: auto; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 24px;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-font-kerning: auto; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 24px;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-font-kerning: auto; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 24px;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-font-kerning: auto; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 24px;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-font-kerning: auto; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 24px;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-font-kerning: auto; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 24px;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody;"></span></p>Michael Rohrerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03140945393060327908noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6168458293054875373.post-85475899945046720082023-03-29T09:45:00.002-04:002023-03-29T11:15:17.103-04:00Convinced<p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: large;">When one has convinced himself that no one truly cares about the things he cares about — merely indulging him as he romanticizes about the scent of a new perfume, humoring him as he reenacts a moment from his favorite soap opera, tolerating his frustration with the lack of consequences for rule breakers — it is incredibly difficult to convince oneself otherwise.</span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: large;"><br />When one has convinced himself he is his family’s shame and disappointment — welcoming him into their home, yes, but avoiding conversations about his life as a gay man, flippantly replying when faced with gay topics, silently reacting to his emotional outbursts on phobic occurrences, ultimately tempering his own shame — it is incredibly difficult to convince oneself otherwise.</span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: large;"><br />When one has convinced himself that he is a unicorn peacocking among the regular horses — chin up, aloof, lips glossed with color, lashes mascara’d, perfectly armored (um, adorned), an inkling of knowledge that makes him seem well versed, a pretender even after he is safely hidden away and has removed the horn he foolishly believes makes him special — it is incredibly difficult to convince oneself otherwise.</span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: large;"><br /><span style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">©️</span>MichaelRohrer</span></p>Michael Rohrerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03140945393060327908noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6168458293054875373.post-54736195415014483792023-03-28T18:57:00.001-04:002023-03-28T18:57:25.037-04:00I Know About (Not) Popular<p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-size: 19px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody;">I am not popular.</span></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-size: 19px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody;">I have never been popular.</span></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-size: 19px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody;">I will never be popular. </span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-size: 19px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 24px;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody;"></span><br /></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-size: 19px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody;">There is no engagement of consequence on social media for any of my posts. My friends look but they don’t comment. Most don’t “like”. There are no questions. Using hashtags to get the posts in front of the eyes of strangers also does little in the way of making connections. Zilch. Nada. Crickets. </span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-size: 19px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 24px;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody;"></span><br /></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-size: 19px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody;">Most of what I write falls into the void of cyber space. My essays, poems, fiction, and stories don’t find an audience. So they don’t evoke a response. There is no connection. Maybe the ancient aliens in the black hole of time will one day find my words floating around them and stop to read, finding a writer they can identify with, but he will be long dead.</span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-size: 19px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 24px;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody;"></span><br /></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-size: 19px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody;">I have wasted so much time wishing and hoping and trying, only to realize I am enacting the definition of crazy. The response is always the same. Yet still, I periodically insist on running around this loop of discouragement. </span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-size: 19px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 24px;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody;"></span><br /></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-size: 19px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody;">The depression and sadness it causes me is real. And it’s real for others. In that I am not alone. But I am the subject of this writing, and I can’t bear the emotional strain, the mental weight. I can’t figure out how to just put an essay or an Instagram post out into the world and let it land, breathe, live. I desire a response. I long for it. Just like an actor needs applause. I want to engage with an audience that doesn’t seem to find me interesting.</span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-size: 19px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 24px;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody;"></span><br /></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-size: 19px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody;">I feel like a failure: worthless, unworthy, and less-than. I will never be a sensation. I often say being invited to the party is enough. But I will never get the invitations to the parties that I will then decline.</span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-size: 19px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 24px;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody;"></span><br /></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-size: 19px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody;">I might be a selfish, self-involved, non-empathetic person who thinks he deserves more than others, and that he should be recognized for his trivial Instagram posts and descriptive word choices in his blog essays and his…etc, etc.</span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-size: 19px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 24px;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody;"></span><br /></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-size: 19px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody;">But, still…</span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-size: 19px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 24px;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody;"></span><br /></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-size: 19px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody;">I am not popular. </span></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-size: 19px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody;">I have never been popular. </span></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-size: 19px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody;">I will never be popular. </span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-size: 19px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 24px;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody;"></span><br /></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-size: 19px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="s2">©️</span><span class="s1" style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody;">MichaelRohrer</span></p>Michael Rohrerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03140945393060327908noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6168458293054875373.post-66723056985992880152023-03-28T10:22:00.004-04:002023-03-28T10:22:32.527-04:00Surface/Life<p style="color: #454545; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: courier; font-size: medium;">It’s all surface…his life.</span></p><p style="color: #454545; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: courier; font-size: medium;">There is no depth. </span></p><p style="color: #454545; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: courier; font-size: medium;">It’s shallow, perfumed with artifice. </span></p><p style="color: #454545; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: courier; font-size: medium;">The loneliness is real.</span></p><p style="color: #454545; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: courier; font-size: medium;">The solitude his choosing.</span></p><p style="color: #454545; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: courier; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="color: #454545; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: courier; font-size: medium;">His anger is rife, </span></p><p style="color: #454545; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: courier; font-size: medium;">And exhausting.</span></p><p style="color: #454545; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: courier; font-size: medium;">He places blame, lives in fear.</span></p><p style="color: #454545; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: courier; font-size: medium;">The walls are high.</span></p><p style="color: #454545; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: courier; font-size: medium;">The asylum soothing.</span></p><p style="color: #454545; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: courier; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="color: #454545; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: courier; font-size: medium;">He exists in strife; </span></p><p style="color: #454545; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: courier; font-size: medium;">Breathless, fading.</span></p><p style="color: #454545; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: courier; font-size: medium;">He sleeps, avoids by dreaming.</span></p><p style="color: #454545; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: courier; font-size: medium;">The nakedness quelled.</span></p><p style="color: #454545; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: courier; font-size: medium;">The exposure looming.</span></p><p style="color: #454545; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: courier; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="color: #454545; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: courier; font-size: medium;">It’s all surface…his life; </span></p><p style="color: #454545; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: courier; font-size: medium;">A creation.</span></p><p style="color: #454545; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: courier; font-size: medium;">He yearns to change, but is tired.</span></p><p style="color: #454545; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: courier; font-size: medium;">The disquiet is heavy.</span></p><p style="color: #454545; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: courier; font-size: medium;">The darkness seducing.</span></p><p style="color: #454545; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: courier; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="color: #454545; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: courier; font-size: medium;">He does not long for death;</span></p><p style="color: #454545; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: courier; font-size: medium;">To leave anyone behind, mourning.</span></p><p style="color: #454545; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: courier; font-size: medium;">He longs for non-existence,</span></p><p style="color: #454545; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: courier; font-size: medium;">Which leaves no one broken-hearted from knowing.</span></p><p style="color: #454545; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: courier; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="color: #454545; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: courier; font-size: medium;">The road is twisted, curved. </span></p><p style="color: #454545; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: courier; font-size: medium;">The hills go up then down.</span></p><p style="color: #454545; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: courier; font-size: medium;">There has to be a fork.</span></p><p style="color: #454545; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: courier; font-size: medium;">There has to be a sign.</span></p><p style="color: #454545; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: courier; font-size: medium;">He has to make a choice.</span></p><p style="color: #454545; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: courier; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="color: #454545; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: courier; font-size: medium;">Life…</span></p><p style="color: #454545; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: courier; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="color: #454545; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: courier; font-size: medium;">His.</span></p><p style="color: #454545; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: courier; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="color: #454545; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: courier; font-size: medium;"><span style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">©️</span>MichaelRohrer</span></p><div><br /></div>Michael Rohrerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03140945393060327908noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6168458293054875373.post-76897155992414875262023-03-28T10:19:00.001-04:002023-03-28T10:19:33.356-04:00Slipping<p><span style="font-family: courier; font-size: medium;"><span style="color: #454545;">He slipped out of your life.</span><span style="color: #454545;"> </span></span></p>
<p style="color: #454545; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: courier; font-size: medium;">Have you noticed?</span></p>
<p style="color: #454545; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: courier; font-size: medium;">Has it been a day, a week…a year?</span></p>
<p style="color: #454545; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: courier; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p>
<p style="color: #454545; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: courier; font-size: medium;">What once was is now a memory.</span></p>
<p style="color: #454545; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: courier; font-size: medium;">Do you feel it, his absence?</span></p>
<p style="color: #454545; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: courier; font-size: medium;">Does it even matter?</span></p>
<p style="color: #454545; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: courier; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p>
<p style="color: #454545; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: courier; font-size: medium;">The seasons have changed. </span></p>
<p style="color: #454545; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: courier; font-size: medium;">Yet the sun is cold. </span></p>
<p style="color: #454545; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: courier; font-size: medium;">There is a void, but is it empty?</span></p>
<p style="color: #454545; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: courier; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p>
<p style="color: #454545; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: courier; font-size: medium;">Is the effort too much?</span></p>
<p style="color: #454545; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: courier; font-size: medium;">The slipping too easy?</span></p>
<p style="color: #454545; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: courier; font-size: medium;">Is there blame?</span></p>
<p style="color: #454545; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: courier; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p>
<p style="color: #454545; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: courier; font-size: medium;">The light has faded, </span></p>
<p style="color: #454545; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: courier; font-size: medium;">The colors too.</span></p>
<p style="color: #454545; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: courier; font-size: medium;">A faint essence remains.</span></p>
<p style="color: #454545; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: courier; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p>
<p style="color: #454545; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: courier; font-size: medium;">He slipped out of your life.</span></p>
<p style="color: #454545; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: courier; font-size: medium;">Visible, yes.</span></p>
<p style="color: #454545; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: courier; font-size: medium;">But ultimately gone.</span></p>
<p style="color: #454545; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;"><br /></span></p><p style="color: #454545; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">©️</span><span style="font-family: courier; font-size: large;">MichaelRohrer</span></p>Michael Rohrerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03140945393060327908noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6168458293054875373.post-75671040354328202632022-12-31T11:18:00.002-05:002022-12-31T11:18:32.262-05:00Observations from a TBLE @ Rue 57<div><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">A father speaks to his son. The son listens. He thinks. There is no friction. No angst. The son looks like a rebel but he isn’t. He responds to his father. It’s almost jovial, without a smile. The father nods his head. The son then smiles. A small Coke bottle is picked up from the table. The son takes a swig. Sugary goodness. The father’s wine glass sits half full to his right. The father’s face is hidden but his posture indicates he too is smiling, happy. The people at the table too appear to be happy. Cell phones are out. Social media apps being perused?? Pictures are taken. Food is shared. They are happy.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"> <br />She sits across from him in her pink sweater. Talking. Talking. He is so cute. He smiled at me when he returned from the restroom. I desperately wish she too would go to the restroom just so I can see what he’ll do. IF he’ll do. But she appears to have a bladder of steel, and keeps talking, talking, never leaving the table. They know I’ve been watching them…coyly. He smiles at me again as he puts on his jacket. Then both say “goodnight” as they pass. He won’t kiss me later, but his smile is fodder for my dreams.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br />They are obviously tourists. From where, who knows. But their sweatshirts and table etiquette give them away. They can’t hide. They have invisible scrunchies in their hair. All of them. Even the balding men.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br />©️MichelGarreau</span></div><div><br /></div>Michael Rohrerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03140945393060327908noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6168458293054875373.post-53425265057291438672021-08-18T10:44:00.007-04:002021-08-18T12:40:36.611-04:00Complete<p style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;">When do the pieces fall into place?</span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Is life a puzzle filled with curves and shapes that don't fit:</span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Big pieces</span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Small pieces</span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Pieces with no bloom?</span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Don't the pieces have to fit together?</span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Doesn't there have to be rhyme, reason...purpose?</span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Doesn't there?</span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Maybe not.</span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Maybe it's random.</span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;">What if the pieces are just pieces</span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;">And the rhymes just words that end in different sounds:</span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Blithe laughter,</span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Silent screams,</span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Chords both bitter and sweet?</span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;">What if the pieces remain sep'rate?</span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;">I am a collection in a single piece.</span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Beautifully vibrant,</span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Gracefully muted,</span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Dissonant...and silent.</span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Maybe there's beauty in the chaos,</span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;">And the purpose in my collection is lone.</span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Together...</span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Or apart</span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;">A complete work in one.</span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-fQEA_FNWfGI/YR03iQKWoTI/AAAAAAAABxs/JiJ0_ax-PIwLa1NzeEEIZq0LLu38UhDWACLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/Complete.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="200" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-fQEA_FNWfGI/YR03iQKWoTI/AAAAAAAABxs/JiJ0_ax-PIwLa1NzeEEIZq0LLu38UhDWACLcBGAsYHQ/w150-h200/Complete.jpeg" width="150" /></a></span></div><p></p>Michael Rohrerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03140945393060327908noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6168458293054875373.post-37675291220656396612021-06-23T08:54:00.001-04:002021-06-23T08:54:16.148-04:00PLAYTIME<div style="color: #454545; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: left;"><span style="color: #454545;"><span style="font-family: courier; font-size: medium;">The sun creeps across the lawn</span></span></div><div style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: center;"><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #454545; font-family: courier; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><span style="color: #454545; font-family: courier; font-size: medium;"><div style="text-align: left;">Burnishing the grass: phosphorescent, brilliantly green.</div></span></div><div style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: center;"><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #454545; font-family: courier; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><span style="color: #454545; font-family: courier; font-size: medium;"><div style="text-align: left;">It chases the shadows. Protection is fleeting.</div></span></div><div style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: center;"><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #454545; font-family: courier; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><span style="color: #454545; font-family: courier; font-size: medium;"><div style="text-align: left;">A gnarled finger of shade reaches across the fence.</div></span></div><div style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: center;"><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #454545; font-family: courier; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><span style="color: #454545; font-family: courier; font-size: medium;"><div style="text-align: left;">It beckons, but it lies. There is no salvation there.</div></span></div><div style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: center;"><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #454545; font-family: courier; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><span style="color: #454545; font-family: courier; font-size: medium;"><div style="text-align: left;">The air grows warmer: heavier, delicately humid.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">The clouds rise up, themselves creeping.</div></span></div><div style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: center;"><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #454545; font-family: courier; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><span style="color: #454545; font-family: courier; font-size: medium;"><div style="text-align: left;">It’s Hide-and-Seek time. The shadows revel in their temporary advantage.</div></span></div><div style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: center;"><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #454545; font-family: courier; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><span style="color: #454545; font-family: courier; font-size: medium;"><div style="text-align: left;">This game is not new. It’s familiar, recurring.</div></span></div><div style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: center;"><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #454545; font-family: courier; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><span style="color: #454545; font-family: courier; font-size: medium;"><div style="text-align: left;">From my haven of shelter I watch as they play. A change occurs: a retreat, a fade.</div></span></div><div style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: center;"><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #454545; font-family: courier; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><span style="color: #454545; font-family: courier; font-size: medium;"><div style="text-align: left;">The clouds have been bested, the shadows displaced, as once again</div></span></div><div style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: center;"><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #454545; font-family: courier; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><span style="color: #454545; font-family: courier; font-size: medium;"><div style="text-align: left;">The sun creeps across the lawn.</div></span></div>Michael Rohrerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03140945393060327908noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6168458293054875373.post-41283351860999156412021-01-16T16:00:00.006-05:002021-01-16T16:00:06.056-05:00On The Occasion Of Your Anniversary <p style="text-align: center;"> <b style="color: #454545; font-size: 20px; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: times;">January 16, 1971</span></b></p><div style="color: #454545; font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 16px; text-align: center;"><span style="color: #454545; font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 14px;"><br /></span></div><div style="color: #454545; font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 16px; text-align: center;"><span style="color: #454545; font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 14px;">Fifty years ago today</span></div><div style="color: #454545; font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 16px; text-align: center;"><span style="color: #454545; font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 14px;">The roses were red in your wedding bouquet.</span><br /></div><p class="p4" style="color: #454545; font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 16px; text-align: center;"><span class="s1" style="font-kerning: none;"></span></p><p class="p3" style="color: #454545; font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: center;"><span class="s1" style="font-kerning: none;">There was tulle, satin…delicate lace;</span></p><p class="p3" style="color: #454545; font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: center;"><span class="s1" style="font-kerning: none;">Blue velvet and stripes and a smile on each face.</span></p><p class="p4" style="color: #454545; font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 16px; text-align: center;"><span class="s1" style="font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></p><p class="p3" style="color: #454545; font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: center;"><span class="s1" style="font-kerning: none;">With something blue and something <i>new</i>,</span></p><p class="p3" style="color: #454545; font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: center;"><span class="s1" style="font-kerning: none;">Was anything borrowed? I haven’t a clue.</span></p><p class="p4" style="color: #454545; font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 16px; text-align: center;"><span class="s1" style="font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></p><p class="p3" style="color: #454545; font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: center;"><span class="s1" style="font-kerning: none;">You were young. Were you scared?</span></p><p class="p3" style="color: #454545; font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: center;"><span class="s1" style="font-kerning: none;">Your lives were changing. Were you prepared?<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></p><p class="p4" style="color: #454545; font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 16px; text-align: center;"><span class="s1" style="font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></p><p class="p3" style="color: #454545; font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: center;"><span class="s1" style="font-kerning: none;">Time is fleeting. Years fly by.</span></p><p class="p3" style="color: #454545; font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: center;"><span class="s1" style="font-kerning: none;">Looks like you made it. Even Ms. Twain can’t deny</span></p><p class="p4" style="color: #454545; font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 16px; text-align: center;"><span class="s1" style="font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></p><p class="p3" style="color: #454545; font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: center;"><span class="s1" style="font-kerning: none;">Was everything roses?</span></p><p class="p3" style="color: #454545; font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: center;"><span class="s1" style="font-kerning: none;">Of course it wasn’t. But this writer proposes…</span></p><p class="p4" style="color: #454545; font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 16px; text-align: center;"><span class="s1" style="font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></p><p class="p3" style="color: #454545; font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: center;"><span class="s1" style="font-kerning: none;">Smile. Exhale. Look back on your lives:</span></p><p class="p3" style="color: #454545; font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: center;"><span class="s1" style="font-kerning: none;">Reflect. Reminisce. Remember. Realize.</span></p><p class="p4" style="color: #454545; font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 16px; text-align: center;"><span class="s1" style="font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></p><p class="p3" style="color: #454545; font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: center;"><span class="s1" style="font-kerning: none;">A choice was made in ‘71</span></p><p class="p3" style="color: #454545; font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: center;"><span class="s1" style="font-kerning: none;">And her eyes still adore you in 2021</span></p><p class="p4" style="color: #454545; font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 16px; text-align: center;"><span class="s1" style="font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></p><p class="p3" style="color: #454545; font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: center;"><span class="s1" style="font-kerning: none;">What was then has now grown,</span></p><p class="p3" style="color: #454545; font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: center;"><span class="s1" style="font-kerning: none;">You’ve both been changed forever, “For Good.” Who could’ve known?</span></p><p class="p4" style="color: #454545; font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 16px; text-align: center;"><span class="s1" style="font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></p><p class="p3" style="color: #454545; font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: center;"><span class="s1" style="font-kerning: none;">Fifty years ago today</span></p><p class="p3" style="color: #454545; font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: center;"><span class="s1" style="font-kerning: none;">The roses were red in your wedding bouquet</span></p><p class="p3" style="color: #454545; font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: center;"><span class="s1" style="font-kerning: none;"><br /></span></p><p class="p4" style="color: #454545; font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 16px; text-align: center;"><span class="s1" style="font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></p><p class="p5" style="color: #454545; font-family: "Noteworthy Light"; font-size: 12px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 19px; text-align: center;"><b style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 20px;">January 16, 2021</b><span class="s1" style="font-kerning: none;"></span></p><p class="p2" style="color: #454545; font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 20px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 23px; text-align: center;"><span class="s1" style="font-kerning: none;"><b></b></span><br /></p><p class="p6" style="color: #454545; font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 18px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: center;"><span class="s1" style="font-kerning: none;"><b>Happy 50th Anniversary</b></span></p><p class="p6" style="color: #454545; font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 18px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: center;"><span class="s1" style="font-kerning: none;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-LOM1YPeZpvE/YAHicQKHwWI/AAAAAAAABts/4aXvCqf86LgTcIKDiqFD5j28Ucq5ATjEACLcBGAsYHQ/s477/January%2B16%252C%2B1971.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="477" data-original-width="347" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-LOM1YPeZpvE/YAHicQKHwWI/AAAAAAAABts/4aXvCqf86LgTcIKDiqFD5j28Ucq5ATjEACLcBGAsYHQ/s320/January%2B16%252C%2B1971.jpeg" /></a></div><br /><b><br /></b><p></p>Michael Rohrerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03140945393060327908noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6168458293054875373.post-70588780069232546362020-11-08T18:35:00.002-05:002020-11-08T18:35:20.668-05:00How Are We Going To Find Unity If We Remain Divided?<blockquote class="twitter-tweet"><p dir="ltr" lang="en">The clearest path toward unity excludes name-calling and violence. It requires listening and hearing, which involves faith and trust. Can we do it, America? <a href="https://twitter.com/hashtag/AmericaDecides2020?src=hash&ref_src=twsrc%5Etfw">#AmericaDecides2020</a> <a href="https://twitter.com/hashtag/Election2020results?src=hash&ref_src=twsrc%5Etfw">#Election2020results</a> <a href="https://twitter.com/hashtag/BidenHarris?src=hash&ref_src=twsrc%5Etfw">#BidenHarris</a> <a href="https://twitter.com/hashtag/TrumpPence?src=hash&ref_src=twsrc%5Etfw">#TrumpPence</a> <a href="https://twitter.com/hashtag/CountryOverParty?src=hash&ref_src=twsrc%5Etfw">#CountryOverParty</a></p>— Michael Rohrer (@michaelrohrer) <a href="https://twitter.com/michaelrohrer/status/1325494499737542657?ref_src=twsrc%5Etfw">November 8, 2020</a></blockquote><p>I tweeted the above thought and question this afternoon. Just after pressing send I thought about my own character in respect to the question I'd posed, "Can we do it, America?". I replied to myself: "I will struggle with this also. It's been a tough, divisive four years. But we have to be willing to try."</p><p>We do have to be willing to try, don't we? I admit that I don't even know how to begin. I will have to seek guidance from those who are more willing and open than I. </p><div>Four years ago, there were so many tears and so many broken hearts amid the shock and confusion of the 2016 election results. For all of those who believed their prefered candidate would win, there was an overwhelming sense by a majority of the country that one of those candidates didn't have a chance. </div><p>We were wrong.</p><p>Donald J. Trump was a disruptive candidate from the moment he stepped of the escalator in Trump Tower on June 16, 2015 to announce his candidacy for the office of President of the United States of America--disruptive because it seemed like a publicity stunt; a stunt because it had the potential to pull focus away from the other candidates and the issues they wished to address and their positions on which they wished to state.</p><p>As the campaign season gained momentum and Trump became the Republican nominee for President of the United States of America, one swath of Americans felt empowered by the lack of restraint with which he used his words. Another swath sat stunned in a state of shock. The Empowered and the Stunned took completely different approaches in this moment. The Empowered seemed to revel in the nasty frankness while the Stunned settled into the assumption that this bully of a man, with his name-calling rhetoric, couldn't possibly defeat the candidate which they felt was more than qualified for the job.</p><p>Surprise! Complacency and inconceivability gave us president Trump. And while many in our country felt that Hillary Clinton was an untrustworthy candidate ill-considered for leading our country, Trump managed to alienate and irritate more Americans that this writer believes Clinton ever could have. However, we will never know if Clinton's presence in the Oval wouldn't have continued to widen the gap in our already faulty division.</p><p>Trump traverses in lies and conspiracy theories. He rarely has proof to back up the accusations he so readily spews via his tweets or from the podium at a MAGA rally. He is the Supreme Leader of Misinformation. (Thankfully, Twitter began adding alerts to his tweets about false and misleading information.) </p><p>As the results of the 2020 presidential election began to hit news desks around the country, Trump began to regurgitate, more viciously than he did during the days leading up to the election, his lies about voter fraud. Determined to win even if he had to cheat by saying the other side was cheating.</p><p>The other side wasn't cheating. There is no proof of voter fraud. Those who count the votes are bipartisan--Republicans and Democrats coming together to accurately and properly count the votes. Because of Trump's false claims about mail in ballots and absentee ballots leading to fraud, news outlets and social media outlets began to add fact-check flags and misinformation notifications to election related posts in an effort to clarify how the process works, how it has always worked, that it is currently working as it should, and how there is no proof of voter fraud.</p><p>True-to-form, Trump's rhetoric led to his most rabid supporters showing up at ballot counting facilities, demanding to be let inside in order to supervise what was already being supervised. Many even arrived with their guns in tow. (And the Left has been deemed a radical mob. Insert eyeroll here.)</p><p>With Joe Biden declared the projected winner of the presidency in the United States, there was a flip in the reactions on both sides from those of 2016. </p><p>Dancing in the streets, cheers, noise, and happy tears erupted from those of us excited--and relieved--to find the Trump presidency at its end. But those who support this most divisive, alienating, distracting, and unsettling president ever--although he is fond of saying he's the Most, the Greatest, the Best--reacted with the disbelief that I myself felt four years ago. A major difference is that, while I was shocked, I never suspected voter fraud. Russian interference, yes. But I believed our votes were cast and counted...accurately and properly.</p><p>So, back to the question: "Can we do it, America?" That's a big question. And it has no easy answer. I don't even know how to discuss Trump's blatant lies about the election with my Republican family members, let alone his actions over the past four years. The idea gives me agita. I get angry at the imagined conversations (or arguments) in my head, which are based on our previous conversations, or from what I know about their beliefs. If this is the case for me regarding my family--the people who know me and are supposed to love me--how in the world am I then going to be able to listen to what scares (or angers) someone about an America under the leadership and guidance of Joe Biden? </p><p>Unity lies closer to a middle ground than our country has found itself leveled on for many years. The flames of division have been burning for too many of those years, but Trump threw fire on them and stoked them until they burned with a fervor that sent people running to the edges in search of like-minded harmony. Separated by these flames, our country has become the Divided States of America.</p><p>Trump seemed to only want to represent those who were loyal to him. Biden wishes to be the President of all Americans, not just the Democrats and not just those who voted for him. Can we swing the pendulum back toward the middle? Can we shake hands and agree to disagree instead of making fists and calling each other names? Do we have to continue blocking the path just so those who oppose us don't get their way? Can we help each other?</p><p>The man who wants to lead us ALL said, "[Trump supporters] are not our enemies. They are Americans." I would add that Biden supporters are not the enemy. We too are Americans.</p><p>How are we going to find unity if we remain divided?</p> <script async="" charset="utf-8" src="https://platform.twitter.com/widgets.js"></script>Michael Rohrerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03140945393060327908noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6168458293054875373.post-36182096187895091382020-11-05T13:15:00.004-05:002020-11-05T13:40:56.700-05:00I'm Biden My Time<p><span style="font-family: times;">
I'm sure most of us have heard the saying, "Patience is a virtue." Boy do I
find that statement hard to implement. Patience is hard! I could give many
examples where needing to have patience nearly drove me crazy, but I don't
think any would be as timely as the Mud Puddle of Patience we're all treading water
in called the American Election and the Cult of Donald Trump.
</span></p>
<p><span style="font-family: times;">
I woke this morning with the old Gershwin tune "Bidin' My Time" running
through the suburbs of my dreamscape. </span></p>
<p></p>
<p></p>
<p></p>
<blockquote><span style="font-family: times;">I'm bidin' my time, <br />Cause that's the kinda guy I'm<br />While other folks grow dizzy<br />I keep busy<br />Bidin' my time </span></blockquote><p><span style="font-family: times;">Firstly, it struck me as funny because of "Bidin'" and Biden. Then is struck me as apropos because of..."Bidin'" and Biden.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: times;">I'm one of the "other folks" in this scenario unfortunately. I have grown dizzy
with frustration and fear as I've watched, since Tuesday evening, American
democracy continue to be undermined by a man who has done nothing but sow
seeds of doubt and distrust for longer than his four years in the office of the
presidency. He's a snake oil salesman from whom many have purchased his bottles
of piss.</span></p><div><p></p>
<p><span style="font-family: times;">
My hands were shaking last night at dinner. Not even the lovely glass of French Chardonnay could help. They outwardly mirrored what was happening on the inside--2016 PTSD showing its ass. I was tied up in a knot that seems to only release
when I'm asleep. Thankfully, I can sleep. Yesterday I found myself sleeping a
lot. It's probably a sign of mild depression brought on by mental and emotional exhaustion due to the state of our country in this time of chaos and crisis. I don't like the idea
of being depressed, but I am grateful for the sleep.
</span></p>
<p><span style="font-family: times;">
Bidin' time is a lazy kind of patience that seems to only exist in a world when the stakes aren't this high, but bide it I must--we must. I wish I could take a pill for patience. I have
struggled with finding it for years. I even have the Chinese character for
patience tattooed on my left forearm. Beyond reminding me that I needed more
patience in my life, I used to joke that I would rub it as a reminder as if to release some
magical power imbued within its ink to calm thereby strengthening my ability to deal with stress and anxiety.
</span></p>
<p><span style="font-family: times;">That tattoo should be rubbed off by now.</span></p>
<p><span style="font-family: times;">
I will admit that Joe Biden was not my first choice for the democratic nominee
for President of the United States. Bernie Sanders was not my choice either.
But I struggled. After eight years of my country's first Black President,
Barack Obama, I feared that we, collectively, would not elect a woman. My
fears were proved right when Hillary Clinton, even after winning the popular
vote, failed to secure the electorate and become the first female president of
the United States of America. </span></p>
<p><span style="font-family: times;">
With all of that in mind I looked at the viable candidates and saw: two old
white men, a white woman, a Black woman, and a gay man. Jesus Christ! I
couldn't help but wonder who the people of the United States would support and
rally behind. I mean, this is a country that elected Donald Trump as its
"leader." I didn't trust my own judgment, and I certainly didn't put my trust
in the American people. As far as I'm concerned, many of my fellow countrymen let the country down when they cast their vote for Donald Trump.
</span></p>
<p><span style="font-family: times;">
After the sun had set on Tuesday, November 3, 2020, my best friend and I tuned
into CBS News to watch the election results. The excitement and hope for the
possibilities began to darken just like the night sky as we began to see the
map of our country once again awash with red. There are those guaranteed states
that one knows will be red. They always are. But after fours years of
bullying, mockery, lying...I couldn't believe the overwhelming support for
this candidate. That piss must go down so smooth. I wonder if it's better as a
shot, sipped, or mixed with one's favorite juice or soda? </span></p>
<p><span style="font-family: times;">
On Wednesday night, November 4, 2020, peaceful marchers in Massachusetts
marched with signs reading, "Count Every Vote," while Trump supporters
gathered outside an election center in Detroit, Michigan, chanting, "Stop the
count!" and "Stop the vote!" Why doesn't EVERY SINGLE AMERICAN want every vote
counted? P.S. the vote had stopped. Unfortunately, Donald Trump used the words "stop the vote" (I heard it with my own ears) and it seems there are those who can't quite understand the difference between "vote" and "count." </span></p>
<p><span style="font-family: times;">
This is chaos. And patience is not easy in the midst of chaos. How patient can
one be if he happens to find himself stuck outside in the middle of a
hurricane, unable to find cover, unable to move, digging deep to find the
strength to wait it out. Patience is a virtue indeed.</span></p>
<p><span style="font-family: times;">
Joe Biden has called for unity and for putting the nasty rhetoric of the
campaign aside. Donald Trump, on the other hand, has filed lawsuits and
continues to push his false claim of fraud. </span></p>
<p><span style="font-family: times;">
THIS. IS. CHAOS! </span></p><p><span style="font-family: times;">My anxiety is through the roof. No amount of deep breathing or
long soaks in a bubble bath seem to alleviate it for long.
</span></p>
<p><span style="font-family: times;">
How did we get here? How did the least Christ-like of presidents wrap the
Conservative "Christian" Right around his finger?
</span></p>
<p><span style="font-family: times;">
President Barack Obama sang "Amazing Grace" after delivering the eulogy for
Rev. Clementa Pickney, in Charleston, South Carolina in 2015. Rev. Pickney was
the victim of the bullets let loose upon those attending a Bible study at Mother
Emanuel church in what was deemed a racially motivated attack by Dylann Roof.
I saw our former president deliver his eulogy and sing the old hymn that
comforts so many. It was powerful and emotional. It showed empathy and sympathy. It connected with dormant memories from my youth when I was a follower if the Baptist faith in Kentucky--a dogma that I no longer
practice and a faith in which I can no longer believe.
</span></p>
<p><span style="font-family: times;">
Donald Trump posed on June 1, 2020, for a picture in front of Ashburton House, the parish house
of St. John's Church on Lafayette Square in Washington, D.C. after it had been
damaged by fire during the previous night's protests over the death of George
Floyd in Minneapolis, Minnesota. The photo of this man holding a Bible left me
numb. Even though I no longer read it, do not give it any credence, and do not
believe it should have any influence over the laws of our country, I still
somehow approach it with reverence. (That's a little fucked up, I realize.)
So, to see this man who bullies, mocks, and lies holding up a copy of that
book in an effort to appeal to his supporters without doing anything to
assuage the racial tension happening steps away continues to leave me
cold.
</span></p>
<p><span style="font-family: times;">
We are living in the Divided States of America where I believe Donald
Trump has conned his way into the hearts of too many. I can't help but be
reminded of Matthew 7:15, a verse in that same Bible that I know longer read, which
states: "Beware of false prophets, which come to you in sheep's clothing, but
inwardly they are ravening wolves." This is Donald Trump: selfish, fake,
destructive. He has used his platform--twitter, MAGA rallies--to empower those
who feel he sees them, identifies with them, hears them, supports them. He has opened the
door for their deeply held religious beliefs to explode into the room dressed
as the hate that it truly is.
</span></p>
<p><span style="font-family: times;">
To say that discord will remain in the United States of America regardless of
the outcome of the election is unnecessary. We know there will be. And with
social media providing us with information both true and false, our phone and computer screens will continue to deepen out
relationships with like-minded people. To say there will be an uprising in the
streets if all of the votes are not counted is almost certain. Don't you feel it? And how Civil might this War be?</span></p><p><span style="font-family: times;">(P.S. our taxes count as filed on time as long as they are postmarked by April 15. Why should our votes be any different? If they are postmarked by November 3, during a pandemic when many don't want to vote in person, why shouldn't they count? It seems obvious.)</span></p>
<p><span style="font-family: times;">
It is time to remove the cancer. It is time for a leader that isn't going to
fire you if you disagree with him. It is time to heal. It is time to sing
"Amazing Grace" and mean it. It is time for empathy in the face of so much
social and civil unrest. It is time to trust Climate Science and medical
professionals. Isn't it time
for America to be better than it is instead of treading on the false pretense
of Making it Great Again? When is <i>Again</i>? What about now! </span></p>
<p><span style="font-family: times;">
I don't know what's going to happen with the 2020 election results, but I'm
holding out hope. Patience is hard, but I'm Biden my time. As Jimmy Kimmel
tweeted on election night: "This is like being awake during your own surgery." Ouch. But true. This is painful, but I'm optimistic that healing will begin once the tumor
is removed.</span></p>
</div>Michael Rohrerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03140945393060327908noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6168458293054875373.post-36084917496052184322020-08-17T20:44:00.015-04:002020-08-18T14:50:34.670-04:00Two Weeks & Twenty-Six Cents<p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="s1" style="font-kerning: none;"><span style="font-family: times;"></span></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: times;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-9UOSIlWXPi0/XzsgudeBmQI/AAAAAAAABoc/M5R42CXtSvwRcc-aYhJuM706gPmG9T2fgCLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/IMG_5587.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1539" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-9UOSIlWXPi0/XzsgudeBmQI/AAAAAAAABoc/M5R42CXtSvwRcc-aYhJuM706gPmG9T2fgCLcBGAsYHQ/w241-h320/IMG_5587.jpg" width="241" /></a></span></div><span style="font-family: times;">When I was younger, two weeks could seem like an eternity. What about for you? Did the two weeks leading up to Christmas drag on forever? And what about the two weeks before your 16th birthday? Or the two weeks leading up to the end of the school year? Weren’t the hours endless? Of course, there are exceptions to this prolonged waiting period; e.g., the two week break I used to get during the Christmas/New Year’s holidays when I was in secondary school felt like it only lasted a couple of days.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span><p></p><p class="p2" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 16px;"><span style="font-family: times;"><span class="s1" style="font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></span></p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="s1" style="font-kerning: none;"><span style="font-family: times;">Back in October of 1998, I found myself unemployed for an indeterminate amount of time. (Kind of like right now. Except, right now, I “kind of” have a return-to-work date even though it keeps getting extended.) I worked in the box office at the Century Center for the Performing Arts Theatre; an off-Broadway performance venue where the most recent production, <i>Stupid Kids</i>, had closed early (October 4, 1998) and there was no replacement waiting in the wings. <span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></span></p><p class="p2" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 16px;"><span style="font-family: times;"><span class="s1" style="font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></span></p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: times;"><span class="s1" style="font-kerning: none;">I took a Greyhound bus from the Port Authority in New York City to Nashville, Tennessee. At that point in my life, taking the bus was the only way I could afford to take the trip. It was an adventure—a 24-hour adventure </span><span class="s2" style="font-kerning: none; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal;">😳</span><span class="s1" style="font-kerning: none;">. (And one that I didn’t relish repeating for the return trip. I’m just sayin’.) It took roughly three more hours by car to get to my ol’ Kentucky home. But I got there…with no responsibilities and no plans.</span></span></p><p class="p2" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 16px;"><span style="font-family: times;"><span class="s1" style="font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></span></p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="s1" style="font-kerning: none;"><span style="font-family: times;">During that visit, I felt very creatively fertile. Every morning I made a pot of coffee and perused old journals, searching for those soul bearing moments that might make a good country song. Some days I didn’t change out of my pajamas: no shower, no real clothes, just focus and flow. My parents would leave for work, and I would pour the first cup and sit down in front of my mother’s computer and start transforming adolescent thoughts into lyrics, hoping I might be composing A, if not The, Next Big Hit for country radio.</span></span></p><p class="p2" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 16px;"><span style="font-family: times;"><span class="s1" style="font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></span></p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="s1" style="font-kerning: none;"><span style="font-family: times;">While stardom was something that eluded me, mostly due to my own lack of motivation to chase it, that time in my life is a warm memory cloaked in fuzzy slippers that is at once comforting and melancholy.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></span></p><p class="p2" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 16px;"><span style="font-family: times;"><span class="s1" style="font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></span></p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="s1" style="font-kerning: none;"><span style="font-family: times;">Two songs figure prominently in my memories from that visit: <a href="http://www.mtvbase.com/music/videos/0kwfyy/26-Cents-Sign" target="_blank">“26 Cents”</a> by the Canadian country group, The Wilkinsons, and <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dom7VlltBUc" target="_blank">“Wide Open Spaces”</a> by The (no longer Dixie) Chicks. While both were favorites before, they became touchstones for me...and my mom. And remain so to this day.</span></span></p><p class="p2" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 16px;"><span style="font-family: times;"><span class="s1" style="font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></span></p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="s1" style="font-kerning: none;"><span style="font-family: times;">Two weeks had expired when the time came for me to return to NYC. The Century Center had a new tenant. I was employed again. Memories fade. And while mine is pretty solid (ask anyone who knows me well), I don’t recall a flying-by feeling. In my memory, time marched at a steady pace—not too fast, not too slow. I remember feeling free and dare I say, happy. That’s not a feeling I always feel when visiting Kentucky.</span></span></p><p class="p2" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 16px;"><span style="font-family: times;"><span class="s1" style="font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></span></p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="s1" style="font-kerning: none;"><span style="font-family: times;">At the Greyhound station in Nashville, my mother gave me an envelope. She asked me not to open it until I was on the bus. I was extremely curious what was inside, but I waited—like I used to have to wait for my grandparents to arrive on Christmas morning before I could unwrap anything. Once the bus started moving, all deals were off. I opened it.</span></span></p><p class="p2" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 16px;"><span style="font-family: times;"><span class="s1" style="font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></span></p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="s1" style="font-kerning: none;"><span style="font-family: times;">In my hands I held a lined piece of notebook paper where, in her perfect left-handed cursive, my mom had written the chorus to “26 Cents.”</span></span></p><p class="p2" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 16px;"><span style="font-family: times;"><span class="s1" style="font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></span></p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="s1" style="font-kerning: none;"><span style="font-family: times;"></span></span></p><blockquote><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="s1" style="font-kerning: none;"><span style="font-family: times;">When you get lonely, call me</span></span></p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="s1" style="font-kerning: none;"><span style="font-family: times;">Anytime at all and I'll be there with you, always</span></span></p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="s1" style="font-kerning: none;"><span style="font-family: times;">Anywhere at all</span></span></p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="s1" style="font-kerning: none;"><span style="font-family: times;">There's nothing I've got that I wouldn't give</span></span></p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="s1" style="font-kerning: none;"><span style="font-family: times;">And money is never enough</span></span></p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="s1" style="font-kerning: none;"><span style="font-family: times;">Here's a penny for your thoughts</span></span></p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="s1" style="font-kerning: none;"><span style="font-family: times;">A quarter for the call</span></span></p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="s1" style="font-kerning: none;"><span style="font-family: times;">And all of your momma's love (9-16)</span></span></p></blockquote><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="s1" style="font-kerning: none;"><span style="font-family: times;"></span></span></p><p class="p2" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 16px;"><span style="font-family: times;"><span class="s1" style="font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></span></p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="s1" style="font-kerning: none;"><span style="font-family: times;">Below that she had written her own message of love and encouragement. And at the very bottom she had taped a penny and a quarter.</span></span></p><p class="p2" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 16px;"><span style="font-family: times;"><span class="s1" style="font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></span></p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="s1" style="font-kerning: none;"><span style="font-family: times;">Cut to August 3, 2020. The COVID-19 pandemic has left me unemployed, isolated, afraid, and with limited access to my fremily (that chosen family of friends) for nearly 20 weeks.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></span></p><p class="p2" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 16px;"><span style="font-family: times;"><span class="s1" style="font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></span></p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="s1" style="font-kerning: none;"><span style="font-family: times;">I was supposed to take a trip to Kentucky in June for a wedding that got postponed to August. When I changed the flight I decided to add an extra week to the stay. I mean, why not? I had nothing better to do. And sure, after 23 years in New York City, country living in the southern part of the United States is something that I can only take in small doses. A week teeters between just enough time and an overstay. It all depends on how I let outside factors affect me. But weighing the options, a large back yard and a pool seemed pretty charmed even if I might have to deal with Trump-supporting politics. And lest I forget, momma’s hugs and home cooking would be beneficial perks.</span></span></p><p class="p2" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 16px;"><span style="font-family: times;"><span class="s1" style="font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></span></p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="s1" style="font-kerning: none;"><span style="font-family: times;">My mom might be the one person in my family that I allow myself to be vulnerable enough with to have very frank discussions. I push. She listens. Sometimes she has advice. Sometimes she doesn’t know what to say. I often wonder if I make her uncomfortable with my statements or questions; if I’ve pushed too hard or too far. I probably over share. But she keeps smiling at me, hugging me, loving me. I don’t know how she does it—(This must be where <i>All of your momma’s love</i> comes into play)—but I’m grateful that she does.</span></span></p><p class="p2" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 16px;"><span style="font-family: times;"><span class="s1" style="font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></span></p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="s1" style="font-kerning: none;"><span style="font-family: times;">For two weeks the days were filled, each turning to night without me seeming to realize it was happening.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></span></p><p class="p2" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 16px;"><span style="font-family: times;"><span class="s1" style="font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></span></p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="s1" style="font-kerning: none;"><span style="font-family: times;">My mom and I took three-mile walks almost every day. In that freedom of companionship and exercise, we talked about many things: the pandemic, people’s reaction to it, people’s inability to respect others and wear a mask, other frustrations, the fiction I’m writing, the soap opera <i>Santa Barbara</i>, my love for the soaps in general. We talked about the past, the present. We questioned the future while also looking forward to it. We huffed and puffed and challenged ourselves while sweating through our shirts.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></span></p><p class="p2" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 16px;"><span style="font-family: times;"><span class="s1" style="font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></span></p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="s1" style="font-kerning: none;"><span style="font-family: times;">We played card games almost daily: Rummy, Five Crowns, Karma. We laughed. We quibbled. (One is prone to quibbling and deep sighing when a winning streak seems to be consistently elusive. Trust me, I sighed. I sighed so much.) We ate Milk Duds. We ate the fresh blackberries that we picked from the garden. Picture it: Arlington, KY. 2020. Me picking blackberries in a garden. But I digress.</span></span></p><p class="p2" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 16px;"><span style="font-family: times;"><span class="s1" style="font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></span></p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="s1" style="font-kerning: none;"><span style="font-family: times;">The inevitable question: “What would you like to have for dinner?” was usually asked before we had even decided what we wanted to eat for lunch, and was usually met with an exaggeratedly humorous response along the lines of, “We haven’t even eaten lunch.”<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>But the duck, the chicken, the steak, and the pork chops were all worth the early decisions when they made their way from the grill to the table to my mouth.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></span></p><p class="p2" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 16px;"><span style="font-family: times;"><span class="s1" style="font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></span></p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="s1" style="font-kerning: none;"><span style="font-family: times;">Sitting side-by-side on my parents’ sofa, my mom and I battled for the win playing Words With Friends. Books were completed and new ones started. Homemade ice cream churned in the garage, its hum becoming white noise until it stopped. Hours were spent cavorting in the pool: sliding into the refreshing coldness, tossing a volleyball back and forth, sitting on the bottom, attempting to keep a frisbee in the air—fifty-four times was the record between my sister and me.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></span></p><p class="p2" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 16px;"><span style="font-family: times;"><span class="s1" style="font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></span></p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="s1" style="font-kerning: none;"><span style="font-family: times;">We found family relics that I thought had been inadvertently discarded by me long ago. I had resigned myself to the sadness of their loss, accepted I would never see them again. Yet there they were in a storage tub in a large closet in the basement of my parents’ house. I was overwhelmed at seeing again this bonanza of sepia-toned pictures and daguerreotypes; images of family members I couldn’t possibly know and that no one still alive could provide information about. I was beside myself to once again hold the hand-written document noting the births and deaths of the family from which my own maternal line started five generations prior. My excitement was contagious and my mom caught it.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></span></p><p class="p2" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 16px;"><span style="font-family: times;"><span class="s1" style="font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></span></p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="s1" style="font-kerning: none;"><span style="font-family: times;">We consumed hours of television: <i>The Golden Girls</i>, <i>Friends</i>, <i>Santa Barbara</i>. We watched <i>Jurassic Park</i> and <i>Scream</i>.</span></span></p><p class="p2" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 16px;"><span style="font-family: times;"><span class="s1" style="font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></span></p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="s1" style="font-kerning: none;"><span style="font-family: times;">Sleep came. And, for the most part, it cast us deeply in its shadow. Morning brought a new day, a fresh pot of coffee, a mug of hot chocolate, and a question of what to have for dinner.</span></span></p><p class="p2" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 16px;"><span style="font-family: times;"><span class="s1" style="font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></span></p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="s1" style="font-kerning: none;"><span style="font-family: times;">We washed, rinsed, and repeated our way through two weeks. And even though those two weeks </span></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: times;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-T8JDt6mrCa4/Xzsgi_0_oDI/AAAAAAAABoY/KKpVMFY5zVgWRTS4Jz67FJ3yeVhk15zsACLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/IMG_5592.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1753" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-T8JDt6mrCa4/Xzsgi_0_oDI/AAAAAAAABoY/KKpVMFY5zVgWRTS4Jz67FJ3yeVhk15zsACLcBGAsYHQ/w274-h320/IMG_5592.jpg" width="274" /></a></span></div><span style="font-family: times;"> contained the same amount of minutes and hours as any other two-week period, they seemed to fly by. I guess it really does when you’re having fun.</span><p></p><p class="p2" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 16px;"><span style="font-family: times;">As we get older, time no longer marches at a glacial pace. It speed skates. There is no way to slow it down. Our task it to enjoy every moment. That’s all we can do.</span></p><p class="p2" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 16px;"><span style="font-family: times;"><span class="s1" style="font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></span></p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="s1" style="font-kerning: none;"><span style="font-family: times;">As we said our goodbyes outside the small regional airport in Paducah, Kentucky, I thanked both of my parents for the welcoming opportunity to freeload at their house and told them I loved them. Mom always gets the last hug. That’s the way I want it. I reached into my pocket and pulled out a penny and a quarter and placed them into her hand. She looked down at what I’d given her and continued to smile even as her eyes filled with tears. History repeating. A full circle moment.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></span></p><p class="p2" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 16px;"><span style="font-family: times;"><span class="s1" style="font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></span></p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="s1" style="font-kerning: none;"><span style="font-family: times;">Now that I’m back home in NYC, a two-week period of self-quarantine begins. That’s because I’ve returned from a state with increased rates of COVID-19 transmission. Time in isolation is rarely fleeting so I’m betting <i>this</i> two weeks will inch along like an airplane sitting on the tarmac, 24th in line for takeoff.</span></span></p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: times;"><br /></span></p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: times;">“Who doesn’t know what I’m talking about?” The Chicks ask in “Wide Open Spaces.” Who doesn’t indeed. </span></p><p class="p2" style="font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 16px;"><span class="s1" style="font-kerning: none;"></span></p>Michael Rohrerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03140945393060327908noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6168458293054875373.post-31271755780068161112020-07-30T22:49:00.000-04:002020-07-30T22:49:42.601-04:00Room 14<div class="p1" style="color: #454545; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal;">
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">Ragged breath. Gasps fill the quiet room.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">The breathing stops. No sound. Silence.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">Inhale.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">Relief.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><b></b><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">His sentinels sit. We watch. We listen.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">A melody sings out easy. A husband, to his love.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">“The landslide will bring it down.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">The dread is heavy, the uncertainty thick.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">There is no hope. But there is love.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">Visible.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">Abundant.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">Resignation hovers. The inevitable approaches.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">Peace will come, leaving sadness in its wake.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">When tethered no more, this will be the down.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">Remember.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">Now soar.</span></div>
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<span class="s1" style="font-family: ".Apple Color Emoji UI"; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal;">©️</span>Michael Rohrer</div>
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July 29, 2020</div>
Michael Rohrerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03140945393060327908noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6168458293054875373.post-35309079590116299362019-12-24T22:24:00.004-05:002020-08-11T20:41:17.263-04:00Christmas 1995: A Memory<style type="text/css">
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<span face="" style="font-family: times, "times new roman", serif; font-size: small;">I drove through the night. Snow was falling like the steady rain of summer storm. As the yellow dividing line disappeared under the white fluff, so did the dark paving of the highway. I was traveling as fast as I dared, which wasn’t fast enough. The headlights illuminated the snow as it pelted my car giving the illusion that I was driving through an avalanche of stars.</span></div>
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<span face="" style="font-family: times, "times new roman", serif; font-size: small;">I was headed to my momma’s house for Christmas.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></div>
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<span face="" style="font-family: times, "times new roman", serif; font-size: small;">Christmas at momma’s house: the anticipation, the excitement. Remember? There’s an ease to it, a comfort. It’s childhood and cookies and surprises: memories flooding the mind. </span></div>
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<span face="" style="font-family: times, "times new roman", serif; font-size: small;">At that time, my momma’s Christmas tree was decorated beautifully with ornaments both old and new, standing proudly in the living room. I can see it in my minds eye filling the corner by the front door, the lights glowing with a beauty that’s hard to match at other other time of the year.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></div>
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<span face="" style="font-family: times, "times new roman", serif; font-size: small;">On this particular night I wanted to be at her house desperately. But the snow was slowing me down. I was scared and frustrated. But I kept going. Moving forward with caution.</span></div>
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<span face="" style="font-family: times, "times new roman", serif; font-size: small;">When finally I arrived in Arlington, Kentucky—in the wee hours of the morning, after an arduous journey from Bearcreek Farms in Indiana—I was met with an excitement I could actually feel in the air. For you see that was the year my aunt Cindy and her family spent Christmas at my momma’s house. I’ve seen my mom very happy on Christmas Eve and on Christmas Day many many times—she has a childlike joy during the Christmas season—but that year was like a Brady Bunch Christmas. And as crowded and chaotic as it sounds like it could have been, it wasn’t.</span></div>
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<span face="" style="font-family: times, "times new roman", serif; font-size: small;">It was amazing.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></div>
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<span face="" style="font-family: times, "times new roman", serif; font-size: small;">I quietly walked into the house to find the living room floor strewn with blankets covering sleeping bodies, pillows supporting resting heads. Aunt Cindy awoke as did momma. They came into the living room where my sister,<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>April, and cousins, Casey and Whit, had all stirred awake from a half slumber under those blankets. We sat talking in the glow of the white Christmas tree lights: alive, awake, happy. It couldn’t have been more special.</span></div>
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<span face="" style="font-family: times, "times new roman", serif; font-size: small;">The snow fell that night. And Santa delivered his presents. The house was warm and filled with love. I don’t think the lights on that Christmas tree have ever been more dazzling.</span></div>
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<span face="" style="font-family: times, "times new roman", serif; font-size: small;">Time spent together with the first people who love you is special and as we get older that time becomes more rare...and even more precious.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></div>
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<span face="" style="font-family: times, "times new roman", serif; font-size: small;">As Christmas morning approaches take a second to step outside and feel the magic in the air on the Eve. Look at all the beauty. See it...before it disappears. Laugh, hug, eat, tell stories. Remember.</span></div>
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<span face="" style="font-family: times, "times new roman", serif; font-size: small;">Merry Christmas<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></div>
<br />Michael Rohrerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03140945393060327908noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6168458293054875373.post-21154805610131306512019-10-21T11:53:00.001-04:002019-10-21T11:53:15.482-04:00Frozen, Broken, and Hearing the Lyrics for the First Time<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">I feel as if I heard the below lyrics for the very first time today, and in hearing them, I see exactly where I am in my life...</span><br />
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<div class="M1CzJc PZPZlf MtKf9c kno-fb-ctx" data-lyricid="Lyricfind002-1179367" jsname="rdVbIe" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; margin-top: 12px;">
<div jsname="U8S5sf" style="line-height: 1.57; margin-bottom: 12px;">
<i><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span jsname="YS01Ge">You only see what your eyes want to see</span><br /><span jsname="YS01Ge">How can life be what you want it to be</span><br /><span jsname="YS01Ge">You're frozen</span><br /><span jsname="YS01Ge"><b>When your heart's not open</b></span></span></i></div>
<div jsname="U8S5sf" style="line-height: 1.57; margin-bottom: 12px;">
<i><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span jsname="YS01Ge">You're so consumed with how much you get</span><br /><b><span jsname="YS01Ge">You waste your time with hate and regret</span><br /><span jsname="YS01Ge">You're broken</span></b><br /><span jsname="YS01Ge">When your heart's not open</span></span></i></div>
<div jsname="U8S5sf" style="line-height: 1.57; margin-bottom: 12px;">
<i><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span jsname="YS01Ge">Mm, if I could melt your heart</span><br /><span jsname="YS01Ge">Mm, we'd never be apart</span><br /><span jsname="YS01Ge">Mm, give yourself to me</span><br /><span jsname="YS01Ge">Mm, <b>you hold the key</b></span></span></i></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span jsname="YS01Ge">Now there's no point in placing the blame</span><br /><span jsname="YS01Ge">And you should know I suffer the same</span><br /><span jsname="YS01Ge">If I lose you</span><br /><span jsname="YS01Ge">My heart will be broken</span></span></i></div>
<div jsname="U8S5sf" style="line-height: 1.57; margin-bottom: 12px;">
<i><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span jsname="YS01Ge">Love is a bird, she needs to fly</span><br /><span jsname="YS01Ge">Let all the hurt inside of you die</span><br /><span jsname="YS01Ge">You're frozen</span><br /><span jsname="YS01Ge">When your heart's not open</span></span></i></div>
<div jsname="U8S5sf" style="line-height: 1.57; margin-bottom: 12px;">
<i><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span jsname="YS01Ge">Mm, if I could melt your heart</span><br /><span jsname="YS01Ge">Mm, we'd never be apart</span><br /><span jsname="YS01Ge">Mm, give yourself to me</span><br /><span jsname="YS01Ge">Mm, <b>you hold the key</b></span></span></i></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">I hold key but I'm stuck in a cycle of fear and self-loathing with a near continuous inability to be vulnerable. I seem to be unable to truly forgive and I never forget. I definitely feel broken, frozen, closed.</span></div>
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Michael Rohrerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03140945393060327908noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6168458293054875373.post-34530269114198874842019-08-04T10:31:00.000-04:002019-08-04T10:32:23.030-04:00Subway Stories: An Observation Toward Forest Hills<span style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); text-size-adjust: auto;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">He sat next to her on the hard, orange-colored seat in a Queens’s bound subway car, fanning her with a bright pink fan covered in white leaves. He was 65 if a day. The light glinted off his 80s style herringbone necklace. His beard and mustache were close-cropped, well taken care of. His backwards facing cap said Nike.</span></span><br />
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<span style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">Her age was indeterminate. She might have been younger than he but from the looks of her, cigarettes and, I don't know, drugs maybe, had taken their toll. She was still attractive in a worn kind of way, but she seemed worn down, tired, but more than tired. She seemed spacey. She grabbed a scarf from her backpack and dabbed it across her face. I couldn't see the wetness she must have felt.</span><br />
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<span style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">Her bleach blonde hair was brushed straight back from her face and gathered into a short ponytail. She was wearing all white. She looked fragile and vicious all at once.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">The sores on her leg could have been from over-scratched insect bites. Or cigarette burns. Or they could have been the broken skin of a shin bashed too hard against a coffee table. But to me those glaring sores looked like puss-filled ulcerations the can result in over-active drug use.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">Her face was made up. She seemed the type to never leave home without it. But it wasn't garish. Just enough. She knew what she was doing. Her eye lids were lined with long fake lashes that didn’t quite fill the expanse of the full lid. They were generously covered in black mascara, which accentuated the empty spaces on either side.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">She leaned over to him and kissed him gently in the cheek. He turned his face so that his lips met hers. Another kiss. He loved her. I could tell. And she loved him. He continued to fan her, loose wisps of her bottle blonde hair blowing back and forth in his created breeze. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">I had heard her mention Forest Hills in her cigarette-choked voice when they first sat down on the train. But Forest Hills didn’t seem like their final destination. </span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">I never heard his voice, but watched him listen intently to every world she said, fanning, fanning. She closed her eyes and lay her head on his shoulder. I watched as he pulled the bottom of her shirt dress down over a thigh he must have felt was too exposed. He would protect her until he died. I knew it. I bet she knew it too, even if she did seem slightly languid at the time.</span></div>
</div>
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<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); text-size-adjust: auto;">
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">I wonder where they were going with their five bags of stuff? I wonder who they were? I’ll never know. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">Exit</span></div>
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<br /></div>
Michael Rohrerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03140945393060327908noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6168458293054875373.post-31963890449664501872019-07-12T09:29:00.002-04:002021-07-14T10:22:21.289-04:00Ivy's Revenge: A 30-Day Tweeted Serial...(And Scene)<div style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; text-size-adjust: auto;">
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: medium;">Her anger frightened her. Her fear frightened her more. It was done. Blood covered her hands. She could feel splatters on her face. She steadied herself on buckling knees. The sweetness of her revenge warmed into nausea. She retched.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: medium;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: medium;">The hot bile violated her throat. She heard the sloshing sound as it hit the floor, a yellow marriage of fear and adrenaline. She watched as the pooling blood mingled with her sick, her heart racing. Each inhale of breath brought with it a sting and a gasp.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: medium;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: medium;">The red pool continued to widen around the head of Katie's limp body. The remains of the icicle jutting from her throat now barely visible. Warm blood had done its job. Blaine smiled as she watched the perfect murder weapon disappearing right before her eyes.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: medium;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: medium;">As the blood oozed toward her feet, she let go of the kitchen island she’d been using for support and stepped out of its lazy yet engulfing path. Her knees held, barely. She watched with hypnotic fascination as the surrounding white tiles drowned willingly.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: medium;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: medium;">As her pulse began to normalize she became immediately aware of the ambient sounds that up until then had been muffled by her pounding heart. There was chocolate bubbling in a saucepan on the stove. Its gurgling and popping mixing with the strings of...what?</span><br />
<span style="font-family: times, "times new roman", serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: times, "times new roman", serif;">She listened. She recognized those strings. Too many garden parties in her youth. Vivaldi, “Summer,” Movement 3, if she wasn’t mistaken. Those violins pierced the air with electricity. They represented hail or flies. She couldn’t remember which. Did it matter?</span><br />
<span style="font-family: times, "times new roman", serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: times, "times new roman", serif;">“So much drama,” she playfully said aloud of that particular movement. “I couldn’t have chosen a better theme song if I’d tried.” Her fear had lightened to relief. She stepped to the stove and removed the pan of chocolate from the burner, turning it off after.</span><br />
<span style="direction: ltr; font-family: times, "times new roman", serif; unicode-bidi: embed;"><br /></span>
<span style="direction: ltr; font-family: times, "times new roman", serif; unicode-bidi: embed;">“We wouldn’t want to burn the house down, now would we, ‘Katie’</span><span style="font-family: times, "times new roman", serif;">?” She venomously spat out the name as she looked over her right shoulder at the body lying on the floor. Katie’s eyes were open. Somehow that was creepier than the fact that she was dead.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: times, "times new roman", serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: times, "times new roman", serif;">Blaine continued to stare at Katie’s eyes, skeptically. She was completely creeped out. An icicle to the neck? Sure. No problem. But the open eyes of a dead woman made the ugly butterflies start to flutter in her gut. The music changed abruptly. Vivaldi fini.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: times, "times new roman", serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: times, "times new roman", serif;">From the twangy sound of an accordion, she thought it was something French. She rolled her eyes. Then someone started to sing. Edith Piaf, perhaps. She wasn’t sure. Bougie. What she was sure of was that she had to wash the drying blood from her face and hands.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: times, "times new roman", serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: times, "times new roman", serif;">To get to the sink Blaine realized she’d have to avoid Katie’s legs, which were lying parallel on the floor between the sink and kitchen island. She hugged the counter, edging her way to the right. She turned the water to hot and waited for the steam to rise.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: times, "times new roman", serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: times, "times new roman", serif;">It scalded her hands but she needed the angry violent wetness to wash away the dried residue of her anger, her revenge. As she splashed it on her cheeks, the burning brought with it stimulated nerve endings and tears—from pain, from release. Her body throbbed.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: times, "times new roman", serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: times, "times new roman", serif;">The tears continued as she reached for the yellow dish towel lying on the counter to dry her face and hands. Her pent-up rage was waning, the emptiness it left behind filled by a sense of elation. But the fucking tears...they carried sadness in their stream.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: times, "times new roman", serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: times, "times new roman", serif;">She’d carried her anguish for years. It was deeply rooted. But tears and sadness were not an option. She hated the dead woman lying on the kitchen floor. “So you go by ‘Katie’ now? Cute,” she said sneeringly. “Well, I found you Bethany Wakehurst. I found you.”</span><br />
<span style="font-family: times, "times new roman", serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: times, "times new roman", serif;">“And guess what, Bethany? Oh,” she paused, “May I call you that again?” she asked mockingly. “Anyway, I changed my name too. To Blaine. But I can tell you, I’m Ivy Wakehurst, Revenging Angel.” She laughed at herself. “I know you thought I was dead. Surprise!”</span><br />
<span style="font-family: times, "times new roman", serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: times, "times new roman", serif;">“And now, it’s you who’s dead.” Ivy smiled. “You left me unconscious in a burning house. From one woman to another, that was a shitty thing to do. Me surviving though? Twist. Yet here I am, standing over your dead body, by my hand, in your own house. Wow.”</span><br />
<span style="font-family: times, "times new roman", serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: times, "times new roman", serif;">“It’s crazy, right? I mean, it sounds like something you would do...plan revenge on the person who ruined your life.” She edged back down the counter toward the stove. She picked up the pan of chocolate and inhaled deeply. “I love the smell of chocolate. You?”</span><br />
<span style="font-family: times, "times new roman", serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: times, "times new roman", serif;">She took the stirring spoon that was lying next to the stove and swirled it around in the cooling chocolate. As she lifted a still warm dollop to her mouth she noticed the spoon rest said Somerston, Rhode Island. “Of course,” she said as she rolled her eyes.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: times, "times new roman", serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: times, "times new roman", serif;">“Of course you would have something from your past hidden in plain sight.” She lifted the spoon to her mouth and gently touched the chocolate to her upper lip. Cool enough. “You know, we’re both women scorned, me by you and you by me.” She ate a kiss of chocolate.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: times, "times new roman", serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: times, "times new roman", serif;">She closed her eyes in indulgence. “This chocolate is amazing,” She turned to look directly into Bethany’s dead blue eyes. “Did you add vanilla and salt to this?” She was back to the pan when she heard a gurgle from the floor. She froze. Fear seized her body.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: times, "times new roman", serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: times, "times new roman", serif;">Her stomach clinched. She dropped the spoon and watched the chocolate partially absorb it. A cold sweat mottled her body. She thought she might be sick again. She gripped the counter to steady her once again weakened knees. “She’s dead,” she reminded herself.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: times, "times new roman", serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: times, "times new roman", serif;">“She’s dead,” Ivy repeated the words to herself like a mantra. “You know she’s dead.” She took a deep breath then whipped herself around to face Bethany, still lying on the ground. Blood bubbles were foaming from the hole in her neck left by the melted icicle.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: times, "times new roman", serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: times, "times new roman", serif;">That sound was like something from a horror movie. Ivy thought she might take it to her grave. She could never unhear it. She shivered and grimaced. As her body began to relax once again she said to no one who could hear, “Revenge has too many side effects.”</span><br />
<span style="font-family: times, "times new roman", serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: times, "times new roman", serif;">The voice she now definitely recognized as that of Edith Piaf continued to sing what sounded like a mournful tune. “I lived in fear of you for a long time. But fear is a dark place. And my anger was just the light I needed to see me out of that darkness.”</span><br />
<span style="font-family: times, "times new roman", serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: times, "times new roman", serif;">Ivy picked up the yellow dish towel and carried it with her as she walked around the kitchen island. She avoided the now motionless pool as she bent forward and placed it over Bethany’s face to cover her soulless dead blue eyes. “Did you feel this euphoric?”</span><br />
<span style="font-family: times, "times new roman", serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: times, "times new roman", serif;">“I didn’t know how I was going to feel,” she continued. “But I haven’t felt this much bliss since the day I first kissed Christopher.” She lost herself in the memory of that day. She might’ve swirled there forever had it not been for the ring of the doorbell.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: times, "times new roman", serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: times, "times new roman", serif;">“</span><span style="font-family: times, "times new roman", serif;">Shit!</span><span style="font-family: times, "times new roman", serif;">”</span><span style="font-family: times, "times new roman", serif;"> she said as she looked around the room. The icicle had melted. She hadn't stepped in the blood so there were no shoe prints. She quickly ran around the kitchen island and pulled open a drawer next to the stove. Bingo. Luck was on her side. Dishtowels.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: times, "times new roman", serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: times, "times new roman", serif;">She quickly took one from the drawer and began wiping the counter’s edge where she’d steadied herself getting to the sink. She wiped the handle of the drawer she’d just opened. She wiped the kitchen island where she’d kept her buckling knees from buckling.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: times, "times new roman", serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: times, "times new roman", serif;">The doorbell rang again. A sounding cry to escape. She began moving quickly, “90 miles an hour” she remembered her mother saying when Ivy had been moving too fast. She looked around the room. She saw the pan of chocolate. “The spoon!” She whispered to herself.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: times, "times new roman", serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: times, "times new roman", serif;">She breezed around to the other side of the island, grabbed the visible portion of the spoon that sat frozen in the suffocating chocolate, and wrapped it in the dish towel. “Time for me to go, Bethany.” Covering the knob, Ivy quietly slipped out the back door.</span></div>
Michael Rohrerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03140945393060327908noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6168458293054875373.post-8445314407327143952019-07-09T10:42:00.003-04:002021-07-12T13:18:59.865-04:00Social Media Disinterest Syndrome I have now come to believe that social media is extremely detrimental to my mental health.<br />
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Tweets with questions and clever thoughts get no response. Instagram posts where I try to say something honest and, in my mind, important, get no response. I try to be involved. I use the hashtags I think will send the tweet or Instagram pic to a community of people who would be willing and maybe even excited to start a conversation. Nothing happens. <br />
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I call the feeling I feel when there's no response: Social Media Disinterest Syndrome. It's a heaviness. I can feel its weight depress upon my body. I can physically feel it change my mood.<br />
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Popularity has always been a desire. Crucify me if you want to. I wasn't popular in high school. I was the queer, the faggot, the joke. I was friends with some of the popular kids, but I never ascended to their ranks.<br />
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Why should this still matter to me? I don't know. I keep asking myself that question. I've been out of high school for 30 years and that past should have no relevance for the adult I've become. But try as I may to fight it, it does. I suffer from a lack of confidence and an inability to validate myself. I fear my own opinion being the wrong opinion. I fear criticism of said opinion and the confrontation that could follow. <i>Could</i>. I'm living in fear of something that hasn't, and mostly doesn't, fucking happen.<br />
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I want to be seen, but I want to hide more. I want to lift up my voice in protest but I want to remain under the radar.<br />
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Twitter and Instagram are reminders every day of my lack of popularity and an apparent inability to connect with people. And when I think about connection I am reminded that I don't connect easily IRL either.<br />
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Social Media Disinterest Syndrome affects me every day. Yet I keep putting myself through it, hoping this day will somehow be different. If you're reading this, and you clicked on the link via Twitter, then you already realize I'm putting myself through it again today.<br />
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How many of us hope that strangers will validate us and fulfill our cravings? I know I'm not the only one. Likes and retweets and even comments create a dopamine effect.<br />
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More often than not I wish for the courage to leave my phone at home, or at least in my bag, and to disengage from all of it. I just want to deactivate it all like I deactivated my Facebook.<br />
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Maybe I'm too old. Maybe I'm out of touch. Maybe I'm not as clever as I think I am. Maybe I'm just not that interesting.<br />
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Maybe my expectations are just too high. This always leads to disappointment.<br />
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Social Media Disinterest Syndrome is a real thing for me. I am living with it...or surviving it. I don't know. It's exhausting.Michael Rohrerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03140945393060327908noreply@blogger.com0