Warning Graphic!

 

I Will Be Recognized For Who I Am

I dreamt that I was on a long, winding road and did not know where I was or where I was going.  Some would call this lost, but I never feel lost;  only like I don’t know where I am, but certain that I will find my way.

 

Sometimes I was traveling on foot, sometimes faster as though by rail or car.  The road was rocky and that describes life pretty well.

 

I had binoculars and looked into the crowds in bleachers, people at a distance and then in a remote area, where there seemed to be few others around me, I watched a horrifying scene unfold.  There was a narrator, such as you would expect on a tour, describing the scene in front of me with total detachment.  I do not remember his words but I was aware of his monotone monologue.

 

There was a white sandy beach, pristine in its beauty before me.  There were two small boys, maybe three years old, with dark, Indian features.  They were playing in the sand and a man was approaching them.  He too, was Indian and handsome in a fierce and rugged way.  He was dressed in animal skins and was carrying a club.  Hovering over the children, he bashed them senseless with the club.  Before the first one died, he cradled the boy in his arms in what looked to be a loving gesture at first.  He then ripped the child’s throat open with his beautiful, straight, white teeth and began lapping the child’s blood up with eerie delight.  The child’s body was convulsing as his life’s blood was being sucked out of him.  I could not continue to watch.

 

The tour continued to a large building, such as an airport or extremely large gymnasium.  There were lots of people there, including Robert Mitchem.  Didn’t he play in “The Fugitive”?  Maybe that is why it was him.  I had to be about 4 when that show was popular and couldn’t tell you anything about it.

 

A lot of women were vying for his attention, but I knew that I would stand out above the rest and approached him.  We seemed to get along very well, and I thought I was reading all of his sexual cues, but when the time came to make a commitment, he said that I was not his type.  What surprised me was my reaction.  I did not feel rejected.  I felt such love and compassion for him that I was able to let him go and wish him well.  There was no emptiness in my heart.  No feeling of inadequacy.  It felt fine.

 

He seemed so shocked that I reacted the way I did that he began to retract and say that perhaps he would like to continue this relationship, because there was something undeniably special about me.  I woke up.

 

The moral of this dream?  I will be recognized for who I am and the love I am capable of, by the right person.  I don’t have to take the emotional clubbing and blood letting that I subject myself to in order to feel loved (cradled).  It is when I love, with no need to control the situation, that I will be the happiest.

 

 

I've been writing my story since I was able to write, but when the media goes to share it, they only choose the parts that fit their idea of what will generate views.  If I'm going to share my story, it should be the whole story.  The titles are the dates things happened. If you have any interest in who I really am please start at the beginning of this playlist: http://savethecats.org/

 

I know there will be people who take things out of context and try to use them to validate their own misconception, but you have access to the whole story.  My hope is that others will recognize themselves in my words and have the strength to do what is right for themselves and our shared planet.  

 

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Music (if any) from Epidemic Sound (http://www.epidemicsound.com) This video is for entertainment purposes only and is my opinion.