Secrets · of · a · girl · NOT · named · Mary

I just watched the movie “Rent” for the first time tonight. I watched the whole story of the man who lived his life and wanted this movie to be born. He ate, lived and breathed the birthing of this movie, and his death propelled it into the limelight. It seems that it has deeply touched many people in so many circular ways.

The ways that it spoke to me, were about my own struggle to affect the world through my craft and the idea of living it and the feeling of explosion that is within oneself to birth something like it.

I feel that passion inside myself also. There is so much darkness in this world and even such hopelessness with a President like Bush, loosing rights and civil liberties left and right, etc. There can be a sense of hopelessness. But here is the thing that I know in the depths of my soul. We cannot loose it. I have felt the world as a collective whole try to beat out of me my… essence, this thing that is inside of me, that, because it has been beaten out of other people, they see that it MUST be dead in me and I am a false thing. The cruelty of my own spiritual community makes me want to cry. I have watched brave, beautiful, talented, passionate, young women, who would become the future priestesses of our community, one by one, they have had the life, and love, and hope beaten out of them. I can remember screaming and crying alone in the night, to God and Goddess both, feeling betrayed by community (not individuals) who fell prey to apathy, and seeking to find the worst in everyone and in everything, by way of the philosophy, “What’s in it for me?” It wasn’t just being shut out and betrayed by my mortal beloved, but by having my heart broken by the pessimism, and apathy, that poisons so many I love. But in spite of the many days and nights of tears over the past couple of years, thank Shehe, that my spirit was not completely broken. I thank him/her I was able to heal, and find love, hope, and light once more.

Then seeing all of the songs, and thinking back to performance poetry, and being inspired by Inrgrid Rivera, now Ignacio. I still want everything… I want to write my book, do my art, role play, write and read poetry… give hope to the world, remind it, people, they are still loved and find a way to help people care and give a damn about what happens to one another. There really is enough. (Money, food, space, attention, etc.) Fear is so gripping over the whole world, and it rules so many. My god, I miss Mother Theresa… there is so much we feel is important that is not. At the same time, simple kindness is our greatest gift to one another. Sometimes I feel I am far to altruistic for this world. Even when I try to be hard or cruel I can’t just really manage it, even when it’s role playing, and there is nothing real to loose.

I’m sure at some point all of this will find it’s way into a poem. Will or could my life make a play? It doesn’t strike me as real, or that anyone would have understanding or compassion for me or my life unless they were in one of my minorities. Maybe I’m wrong. It does happen. Maybe everyone feels like they are out side of the box.

I’m angry at my country and culture for being and having the false pretense of not being able to say, ”I’m a good artist, or poet, or person.” It’s false for us to say “No I’m not.” Not humble. I’ve fought with it so much. Since I was 16 I have been loved in my heart by my Beloved… who knows what is in my heart, and is the only one who witnesses the truth. Who wants that crap? Who cares about that story, my story? As far as I can tell, no one. And why is it that if I were to die tomorrow then everyone would get all nostalgic about me? That people become “beautiful” when they die tragically? Well I don’t want to do that so that people who are apathetic can feel something. Most people are trapped waiting for moments to barely feel alive, all the while putting up walls, forming their own coffins. Only those who have hope are alive. Only those who take action, live. And though our rights, civil liberties, religious freedom, happiness, self expression, right to earn a living, health care, relationships and dignity through aging… you name it, has been stripped away through culture, policies and our own self impositions, yet how we feel, how we respond, how we think, how we see and perceive the world, remains our own responsibility. Apathy is our greatest sin, and fear is our prison guard, not hatred.

I could go on and on… but it’s 2:30 in the morning.

I wish nothing more, than for the walls of our hearts and minds to fall, to fade, to shrink away into the distance, and for us to find a world full of beautiful, loving, and deserving people, who are unique and divine expressions of my Beloved.

Good night, sweet princes
Good night, sweet princesses
May we all find dignity and grace in the mirror tomorrow
May we treat the world as if it’s peace were our royal
And personal responsibility
Because,
It is.

Sincerly,

Secret Mary

So I went to a poetry retreat and a married man wrote this poem about me:

Secret Mary Blues

The woman I'm in love with
got a thousand dollar cloak,
wakes up with a poem
stuck in her throat.

She can fix my body
and read my mind,
women like her
ain't easy to find.

Every where I go
there are spy cameras,
the woman I love
is polyamorous.

She's got two degrees
and five careers,
lovers to keep her
in champagne and tears.

I begged her to share
my bed with me,
told her I'd give her a PhD.

We could be so happy
under the covers,
all her degrees and
her amorous lovers.

The woman I'm in love with
is polyamorous,
everywhere we go there are
spy cameras.

I don't know what's more
dangerous,
to be in love with
a Christian Witch
or a bi-sexed hypnotist.

My only fear is, she's
a Republican pagan.
She'll have me talking
like Ronald Reagan.

I hope she knows
my intention is pure
when I ask what ever happened
to regular amor?

The woman I'm love with
is polyamorous,
everywhere you look
there are spy cameras.

End Poem

This was the first conversational information that he felt this way about me. I'm a bit in shock because he's a married man. I sent an email asking him what's going on. He didn't ask me to bed as it says in the poem. Perhaps it was just in his head. I'm really not sure what to do with this attention.

Sincerely,

Secret Mary

So there is a girl in my office that is a cute young red head, and I would LOVE to kiss her. But it would be SO inappropriate. I actually met her outside of the office first, at a poetry reading. She's here in the office right now hanging out with another girl her age having a good time. I can so see them bonding... *le sigh* Nothing really had/has a chance of happening. Personally I think it's a good sign that I am even having such thoughts. It shows that my heart is healing and ready to get involved again.

God it feels good to express such things out loud.

I go through arguments back and forth about words like, slut, whore, etc... but I actually have sex a hell of a lot less than most people I know. I am just more expressive about what(or whom) I find attractive. When I do get opportunities, it's like last week. When friends of mine (Esther & Saul) called up and asked me to come over so that we could all make love together. Just out of the blue... (I love my friends). So that was the first time I've been with anyone in 3 months... the last time was with Saul. (they have an open marriage*duh*) Esther asked me to come over and keep Saul company because she was going to break in a new lover else where and he needed some company. Then before that was a month... so it's just because of other factors that people think of it as being "whorish." Even if most couples and singles are getting a hell of a lot more than I am.

So I got to go. TTFN.

Sincerely,

Secret Mary

Just a bunch of things going through my head.

I need to vent.

(So I have used Saint names or Biblical names in place of the people's actual names...)

I work in a college office that supports GLBT students and have been denied access to the counseling center's relationship group because I work in our office. This really pisses me off because I do so much for other people and I am not getting to have this opportunity for myself. So one of the ways I am dealing with this is by writing this journal. So I can get "safe" feedback from people who are removed from the situation. One of the many reasons I LOVE the internet.

So there is also this person in our office that I have a HUGE issue with, Paul/a. She is disabled and puts herself down a lot. She dresses in a manner that a street person would (she helps people who are often homeless) and wants to dress well but just really can’t manage it. She often has stained clothes from food droppings, hair that is bleached and can’t be combed through to lay down, …well you get the idea. She is gregarious and isn’t afraid to talk to anyone. But the thing is, that no matter how delightful she may be, she carries herself as a martyr, talks happily about how stupid she is, dominates conversations with her own anecdotes which may or may not have any relevance, doesn’t listen to what other people are saying, makes promises and commitments and then breaks them, and makes herself out to be a representative of our office without our permission… *groan* For the last 2 offenses my boss, Nathaniel, and I are going to have to reprimand her. She inappropriately talked about herself as an abortion baby at a talk she invited herself to, to speak on our office’s behalf. It had NOTHING to do with the topic.

So Nathaniel and I had a talk and we are going to have to lay down the law with her. He asked if he could be the bad guy and I said I was fine with it, but that if I felt he was being too soft with Paul/a I was going to go off on her myself. I have already sacrificed quite a bit for Paul/a. I too my own personal time to go to the store with her to buy clothes (hell I even helped her in the F%&*%&* dressing room) so that she could present the image she wants (professional & pretty). So I am really DONE. I have reached my limit. I have maintained my professionalism and decorum, held a bay my feelings of revulsion (for her hygiene and manner of dress/exposing parts I’d rather not see), the incessant negative self talk, barging into my personal space, putting me on a pedestal, etc…

Ok more later… I have got to go. TTFN!

Sincerely,

Secret Mary

IF YOU'RE ON MY FRIENDS LIST,
I want to know things about you. I don't care if we've never talked, never liked each other, or if we already know everything about each other. I really don't. You are on my list, so let me know a little bit about with whom I am friends!

1. Your Middle Name:
2. Age:
3. Single or Taken:
4. Favorite Movie:
5. Favorite Song:
6. Favorite Band/Artist:
7. Dirty or Clean:
8. Tattoos and/or Piercings:

HERE COMES THE FUN ... ... ...

1. Do we know each other outside of Live Journal?
2. Whats your philosophy on life?
3. Would you have my back in a fight?
4. Would you keep a secret from me if you thought it was in my best interest?
5. What is your favorite memory of us?
6. Would you give me a kidney?
7. Tell me one odd/interesting fact about you:
8. Would you take care of me when I'm sick?
9. Can we get together and make a cake?
10. Have you heard any rumors of me lately?
11. Do you/have you talk(ed) crap about me?
12. Do you think I'm a good person?
13. Would you drive across country with me?
14. Do you think I'm attractive?
15. If you could change anything about me, would you?
16. What do you wear to sleep?
17. Would you come over for no reason just to hang out?
18. Would you go on a date with me if i asked you?
19. If I only had one day to live, what would we do together?
20. Will you post this so I can fill it out for you? (No obligation, it just seems to be the last question on this thing.)

So I have been reading some of the groups that post secrets to get an idea of how and what people "confess".

My first one seems really lame, but I am really afraid of people being mean, nasty, judgemental gossips who would use it as an opportunity to use it as "proof" that I am what the gossips and nasty backstabbers claim. Every spiritual community has them. They are just a part of the sea of humanity, or perhaps I just haven't found that place of spiritual heaven on earth where human being exist and don't do that kind of thing.

It may take me a while not to be so heady about it.

or not.

*Breathe*

I revel in the knowledge that my ex-wife and her family have the last name I gave them, and that they don't (neither husband nor her nor their child) have the last name they got through blood.

*Breathe*

ok... so I am terrified that this is enough information to nail me...

Sincerely,

Secret Mary

So I looked up communities and individuals who are interested in secrets. I have friended several random people based on several factors.

1. We have secrets as a common intrest
2. You don't have anyone on your friends list that match anyone I know in my "other" life.
3. You seem interesting
4. I'd like you to be a friend.

So if you don't want to be a friend just let me know and I'll remove you. As I become more comfortable with sharing my intrests, I'll add them. Right now all I have listed is all I feel safe to share.

Sincerely,

Secret Mary

Today I met the man who started the website www.postsecrets.com and he opened up to me the catharsis of revealing the things we are all afraid of letting other people know. I will mail into him a postcard, or several... who knows. But he inspired me to do this.

Often I am in a postion where others look up to me. I am a mentor, teacher, therapist, clergy, the friend everyone cries to, or on... and rarely can I do that with others. rarely can I let my guard down because of the spotlight I feel I am in. So here will be the place I will say the things I am afraid to say. Here will be the place I can lay down thoughts and processes, much like the Pensive in Harry Potter.

My first secret is that I am afraid that if I "lost it" in front of my spirtual community that they would eat me alive.

Sincerely,

Secret Mary