Late night musings on self identity and navigation of the labyrinth of my own mind

It’s been a while since I posted. There’s a lot going on in my headspace. I’m not even sure where to begin or even if I want to….

It’s a slippery slope and the way down is fast and quite painful if I misstep as I navigate my way though.

For so long I was lost inside myself, fractured a scared little girl. Out of sheer self-preservation I allowed my own mind to splinter and take on the different persona/s needed to shield my inner CoRe from pain and trauma weather real, imagined, sometimes present or other times past and oftentimes mixed with bleed through.

Sometimes I would be like a silent passenger behind my eyes unable to control the words coming out of my mouth, unable to stop my body from it’s action.

Other times I would suddenly find myself back in reality with no idea of how I got there and trying to quickly asses the situation as my fight or flight response kicks in. Sometimes coming to bloody with my abuser stranding above me.

Eventually I would come to a have permanent semi shared conciseness that I mentioned in the beginning. It was through that, I could go in and dissect these personality fragments and understand what need or trauma created them so that I could now reintegrate them back into myself. Which I would do painstakingly over the next several years.

Are you confused yet? Ha! I am and I’m the one who went through all this…and now finds herself going back, and sifting through the memories and emotions left over that have bubbled back up. I know I must address these things before they gain the momentum and crush me under their weight. You see it’s never simple or easy, just because I Having gained control in the hear and now doesn’t mean that my biggest fear isn’t still that loss of control.

To learn to let one’s self relax fully with out loosing control can be difficult. Yes I need to learn to relax but with a health dose of moderation, you see that’s what I’m working on slowly these days.

I’m find that it’s not all black and white, you see I don’t have to drink the whole bottle or indulge in those “metaphorical” back to back glasses of wine. Yes let’s call it wine. Moderation is the key to everything, you see I can take the evening and/or afternoon and spread it out, not too much just enough to unclench my inner fists and yet still retain control.

I think I’m finally getting ready to dye my hair. It’s a big huge step in this retransformation that I’m going through. Just the act of changing your hair cut or color can completely change your persona both internally and externally. So it’s one that I have to think carefully about. Am I doing this drastic change for the right reasons? Am I trying to hide or escape something in my life, or am I doing it because I want to express that which is my inner core? These are the things that I have to carefully weigh and think about.

Sorry drifted off earlier into the void between my ears.. anyway I am back now. Sitting in front of my computer in my home office space. I’m lucky enough that I can keep a room just for myself. I just spent the last half hour trying to get my crappy speakers to work after moving them and my turntable from one side of the room to the other. Anyhow it’s working now, so I’m listening to records and hanging some posters and unframed art prints. Starting to really get happy with my room. It’s not quite there cause I’m not allowed to paint my walls but meh I’ll figure out something. I’m thinking about hanging one of my family quilts on the wall instead to cover the yucky ecru walls.

Any way my lovely reader It’s near 3 am and I really should try to get some sleep. Till next time.

A Brief glimpse into the original Invited Intrusion visual project

Digging and finding files stashed on hard-drives, the cloud, usb sticks and the like. These images are from a project that I thought I’d lost the original files to. While I am the subject matter of some not all of this project are of myself.. there’s some pretty amazing files I have and will share with you at a later date. For now I felt like sharing these ones. I still have the written prose/stories that goes with each..but these are some of the personas that I was and explored in as around mid to late 2000. I was exploring the ideas of “masks, alternate personalities and personas” All of these are parts of a whole but when you pull then apart they are each unique and fully formed representations. You have to really look beyond the surface of the images as there’s subtle things layered and blended in…all these subtle and not so subtle images and the emotions they evoke make up the overall image but the moment you take off one layer the image will change. Now with the idea of NFT’s I’m wondering if I should “re-publish” this collection… and sale myself into the digital nether world.. hmm.. something to to stop and think about. I need more info on nft’s and I have to really decide if I’m willing to sale myself… For now I’m sharing thes… I reserve all copy rights so please don’t steal my work.

Origins of the Geek gril uncovered

Before I was a postmodern tease, I was just a geek girl

So I’m still uncovering things… the progress is slow as I have to carefully monitor my time and assess the emotions that are brought up as I pour over these images, music, musings, and written documentary of traumatic events during that time period.

I was pleasantly surprised to unearth this picture. This is the 16 year old me. This was my freshman year of highschool. The funny things is I can remember that exact day.. I can tell you where I was sitting and who took the picture and what’s in my hand/lap. It’s very strange to have such memory/emotional recall…. and that’s something that I’ve realized that I ‘ve had all my life. It’s a stem of the symentesia of sorts… and a part of why for so long I was full of chaos, swirling emotions, disjointed thoughts.

For now I think I’m going to withhold the back story of this picture. Instead I’m just going to publish it here for myself. I’m going to enjoy the pure joy radiating off my face and not go down to the deeper rabbit hole from this particular day…. I know cryptic as you the reader has no idea of what I’m talking about.. but again this is my adventure not yours. SO, for my own self sanity… I’m going to publish this and perhaps I’ll touch down on it another day.. fo right now I’m just going to enjoy the happiness and remember what my real life avatar was before I because the person that I am in the here and now.

The story behind her eyes

Worn thin lost in a haze. Hazy shadow lingering around like a ghost.

Just a darksparkle orbiting in the sky.
A shell, a ghost lost in the machine along the data stream.

Another Girl lost.
Lost in translation.
Take the words from her mouth.

Twist and turn they’ve got her crawling on the ground.

She wants to break the surface and taste the air in her lungs.
Just like a phoenix rising from ashes she starts another day in a cycle bound by their tethers deep in her soul.

She’s just prey to the hunters and traders. Behind their scope her images they snap and steal.

Hidden away left to be cataloged and banked in their secret data vault.

Each time they take another bits of her soul, leaving her traded like currency.

She’s a sacrifice for the masses.
They’ve broken her down into tiny little bits of data.

Each time they take and she looses little bits of herself on the data stream.

Everyone wants their pound of flesh.
A feast for the masses.
They take their fill and discard the shell on the floor.

She’s just running on fumes.
Empty and alone just a ghost of her formerself lost in the machine.

Tattered and torn, crumpled like torn fabric
Fabric of the web straddling the abyss.

In the darkness she sits balancing her black & white hat crooked hat.
They’ve made sure to have her breathe the gaslight fumes.

She surrenders to the monkey pulling on her strings.
She’s got scissors in her coat.
She’s got to be careful not to run or she’ll get cut up.

Watch the blood fall down, as they take another slice to add to their database of her soul.

I’m amazed she still functions at all
Truly amazed she still feels anything at all.
She’s got Half a life left and no one to call friend.