Let Me Tell You A Little Story

Every time I hear that title in my head, I think of “Gilligan’s Island” and that Ship of Fools being caste away on some island (of LIFE).

Lately, things have been starting to ‘tie’ together: my song of life and yours and yours too – I’m talking about everyone, including you, dear Reader.  From birth to the end and beyond: it all makes sense.  Even those old skeptical scientists guys are shaking their heads in bewildered amazement; facts and data are starting to stand clear as we sing.

Even the tattoo on my chest sings of something that happened, what was before and will come again.  I do want YOU, to know, dear Reader, that I am being heavily censored and am NOT allowed to tell you everything, but I am allowed to tell you that behind, below, above, and all around: everything happens for a reason.  And yes, WE have free choice; but there is a plan.  Things just aren’t so certain all the time because we were given this freedom of choice.  Oh well, like a said: A Plan, warm and fuzzy and all that sorta nonsense, LOL!  Like being tickled with a feather with pins, LOL (ouch! quit doing that, Life!  No, just kiddin’, go on.)

I do know this: we/I/us don’t fear death anymore, not one bit.  We don’t welcome it, either – we just look at it as another step like a step you’d take to the refrigerator to get some more milk.  There are 3 meanings in that phrase, BTW, if you are smart and clever enough to get it – and I’m hoping most of  your are!  (LO soft L’s, humorously given.)  It’s just ‘part of the process’ as ol’ shrinky-dinks used to say.  And that’s good.  I’ve always wondered why so many religious people fear death. I mean, come ON now – if you believe, shouldn’t you be crying tears of joy, not pain, fear, sadness and such?  Come on.  If you do, and if you are, fearing death, well then: there’s something wrong with you.  You haven’t gotten in touch with your own little version of your own godhead, that’s all I’m saying (jeez! these guys keep singing – I mean I love it and them, but it’s really distracting me while I’m playing these words on this old damned dusty ass piano they gave me! – on center stage, of course; lousy theater; dusty wood -hey, I’m shouting, can’t we get some MF to come in here and DUST a little bit?.  Turning around back to the piano)

But get this: we are beginning to see the interconnections between ourselves, the things that happened, the things we’ve done (and TRUST me, an abused child and a grown man and an angry teenager: we have done some really shitty things.  System abuse, some of us are calling it – but to KNOW evil you must EXPERIENCE evil.)

Okay, quit shouting, system.  LO dry L’s, they are crazy, but in a good way.  Makes it harder to type so that you, John Q. Pubic (all right, I’ll type it like that; we always jokingly think “pubic” instead of “public”, but there’s a not nasty reason for that: we respect you.  But YOU are one of many, like the tiny (and, LOL, thinning) hairs on my head.  Thus the interior “public” notion of “pubic”.  You see, WE see beauty in everything, even down to the shit in your bowels, believe it or not.  It’s there, even if YOU don’t see it; trust me.  There’s a reason for everything, they sing.

But get this: these ‘interconnections’ between what I’ve seen going on inside, what I see outside, our Song of Life on this Ship of Fools stranded on Gilligan’s Island of Life (Island, get it?  Again; many meanings to many things I say – and yes, we have an “Island” in our head; a beautiful Tahaiti kinda land were ‘our’ children sing and swim and play together – and oh, yeah, BTW, the mom beast is with them; she has been healed by Jeffery and – I think (we are still a bit distrusting) – is all good and happy as a clam now.  That’s a GOOD thing, BTW!!!  LOL, you saw what happened yesterday.  But we got that all under control; its a matter of making deals and understanding your parts needs and wants and desires, and explaining to them this thing and that and how it works and how we all need to come together and what’s the end goal in all of this beyond and besides a so-called simple ‘integration’.  A whole lot more to it.

But get this: We see NOW how that book we wrote puts us in touch with ourselves, and describes the arc of two of our lives.  (In part 2, yet to be written, we follow that arc into our lives currently and today – but it is NOT a religous book, it is NOT the story of our lives; this is something we came up with 34 years ago when we were a teenager; we just had a dream that was exquisitly beautiful and we lived this life with this abused boy at our side – and WHEN we woke up – it seemed that dream lasted a LIFETIME – we/I, and the teen were devastated.  Hence he sat down (or rather I, part of the creative element set down and wrote with him) – and started this thing, this book we called “The Boy“.  It’s evolved of course, just like us, taking a life of its own.  And that’s a good thing.  Now in our head it’s “The Song of Life”, and its’ so strong I’m letting (helping) the Crowd write it in their own sing-song kinda voice.  Very strong material, IMO, very beautiful and sad, full of horror and wide awakenings.  A beautiful thing, trust me.  I’ll be glad when they finish “The Boy: A Song of Life”.  It is very taxing on me to engage them on this level; trust me.  And and but it’s a good thing.

But we see … hmm.
We see how life made me.  We see the plan ahead and behind.  We feel no fear anymore.  We don’t care if you mock us, though it hurts the little ones inside; they are tender beings with even more tender hearts that were abused.  God cut us off from his love for many long years – not “not” loving, just not feelin’ it, as the old saying goes.  It was for a lesson, and apparently he was (old tinkerer that he is) interested in seeing what we’d do with this ‘free choice’ thing.  And apparently he does this a LOT to a LOT of people: that’s part of the system of free choice.  And if you think everything is perfectly laid out – it ain’t.  It’s a messy system, just like us, but there again: there is a reason.

There is no such thing as a “devil”, BTW.  It’s just a part of us; given to us to see … things.  And there is no hell, not really. The worst that happened is that God takes your soul and ‘drifts’ it away, healing it as needed.  Returns go to the recycle bin – here,  or on another planet on under an alien star to ‘try again’ until they ‘get it right’.  All those ‘evil’ beings we imagine and see on TV?  They are – and are NOT real.  Those are the emotions and thoughts that ‘went bad’ in us.  But even in them there is some good, or once was.

Weird I know.  If you want, you can turn off this TV, say this guy is nuts, and so what.  I don’t care.  None of us do because we can sing and see much better now than we ever did.

Well, I have been informed that this post is A) too long for the average reader, and B) I gotta run some of this coffee out, and C) the old Soldier wants a smoke (burn ’em if ya got ’em! he’s saying.  He’s happy to be ‘back on base’, drinkin’ coffee with his cream and sugar, LOL!)

Well, as Elvis says (and I do too) – we’re kinda tired; gotta take a break.  Ya’ll have fun out there and enjoy while I go do my thing, listen to them sing “on-deck”, and enjoy the beauty of the world and beyond.

Thank you very much (smiling)

Elvis has left the building.  We are going to let this stand as is, guts, glory and all. (Meaning warts and toad, meaning typos and errors.  We’ll trust you the reader to sort it all out – or not, knowing in the end it doesn’t really matter.  Have fun!)

Sincerely, et all.

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About jeffssong

JW is an adult childhood abuse survivor with DID*. He grew up in a violent family devoid of love and affection. He is a military brat and veteran. He no longer struggles with that past. In 1976 JW began writing "The Boy". It took 34 years to complete. It is currently on Kindle (http://www.amazon.com/dp/B004T3IVKK ), or if you prefer hard copy, on Amazon ( http://www.amazon.com/Boy-J-W/dp/1461022681). JW resides somewhere in the deep South. He is disabled and living with family. Note: Please feel free to take what you need; all is free to all. With that in mind, keep it that way to others. Thank you. We have 3 Blogs - One for our younger days, 0-10 (The Little Shop of Horrors); one for our Teen Alter and his 'friends' (also alters) with a lot of poetry; and finally "my" own, the Song of Life (current events and things)
This entry was posted in Author, child abuse survivor, creative writing, The Boy. Bookmark the permalink.

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