As promised, though a day late, the entry remeniscent of an old style.

Music to soothe the savage beast: Circle : Big Head Todd and the Monsters

I told you that I was going to be adding an entry in a style I used to. I love having access to MP3s again. *grins* It�s so refreshing to hear the music pouring straight into my ears without the messy static of the radio or having to get up every 45 minutes to change Cds.

So, does this song affect me as strongly as it used to? Yup, right on the money. It makes me want to close my eyes and just zone out. Just let my fingers type whatever comes out of them. Of course, with as tired as I am, that�s probably not a good idea, since I�m getting a little dizzy with my eyes closed.

I never did get my nap this afternoon. I had fully intended to, I just didn�t get around to it. Hmmmm, there�s probably something to that, but... it doesn�t matter much.

Lot�s of run-on sentences. Isn�t that a pain in the butt? Eh, I�m too tired to keep writing now. I�m gonna go grab my nap and I�ll be back to finish this later. Sweet sleep, all.

Okay, so I sorta didn�t come back last night. I�m sure you�ll forgive me, eventually. I�m hoping so, anyway.

I�ve changed some of the songs, but you�ll never know that. Off-line play lists can be fun in that kind of a way, ya know. Okay, so what if I�m not making any sense. I�ve had sensory overload today.

Music to soothe the savage beast: Only The Broken Hearted : Clapton

I was reading Lee yesterday, and he, of course, made me turn introspective. Since he was thinking about his past and the desire, so strong, to make a world which would accept him, I started thinking about the various things I did as a child to figure out my �real life�.

I remember one day. I was about 16 or so and we were about to move to a large home in town in Snohomish Washington. It was a beautiful house and large. It was an historical home and would have been on the �tour� if we had bothered to pay the Historical Societies dues.

Music to soothe the savage beast: Let It Rain : Clapton

Before we started moving things in, as we were looking at the house one more time, I sat in the room that would have been mine. I kneeled, then sat back on my heels, with my arm on the open window�s cill. I had caught the timing just right and the church a couple blocks away started chiming its bells. There was a faint mist in the air and the weather was cool, almost like the �it�s going to snow soon� kind of feeling.

I sat there, looking out at the spire atop the church and felt as if I had been transported to another realm where people were nice, where life was kind and where I could slip outside that window and just soar off into the air. It was perfect and still and silent except for the tolling of the bells. I couldn�t hear or see anyone else. I felt alone in the world. And I liked that feeling. It was peace personified.

I have always liked having alone time like that. It�s very peaceful and comforting to me to spend a few hours alone, just me. Watching the world as it passes around me, feeling as if I were a wraith, slipping through the world unnoticed. I felt clean and untouched. And what�s more, I felt like the rest of the world was clean and untouched too. It was special to me.

I have thought back and discovered that I have actually tried to create situations like that. I have gone on long walks by myself, just so I could feel the spray of the ocean when no one else was around.

Music to soothe the savage beast: River Of Tears (live) : Clapton

I remember being about 14 or 15 and going up high on the hill on the outskirts of Snohomish. I would sit astride Ramari (a white gelding, Arabian and Shetland) and overlook the miles and miles of valley far below me, and I could block out the existence of all the houses and signs of people. I used to pretend that I was the owner of all I surveyed.

I felt the power of the wind as it blew around me, and I could feel it calling my name. I was alone. I liked being alone. I was at complete peace and I knew that with just a breath, I could be anything I wanted to be. I could see anything I wanted to. And, I could fly. I could just close my eyes, breathe in the power of the wind and soar.

My greatest dream as a child, was being able to fly. I wanted, more than anything else, to fly up into the air where no one else could touch me. Where I could be alone and quiet. Where I could sing if I wanted to. Where I could fly fast and no one else could catch me. Ever.

My escapism started early on in my life. I would hear my brother getting in trouble again and I would hide. I would hide from the sounds. I would hide from his screams of anger and rage and fury. I would slink back into my tiny little closet where no one could see me, where no one could find me, especially if I didn�t tell them where I was.

I would hide in that closet, way in the back, in the dark. I would be warm there. And I would let my mind fly away, soaring off into the air, feeling the freedom and life flowing through and around me. I could be tall. I could be untouchable. And I wouldn�t have to listen to my brother. I wouldn�t have to cry because someone else had called me �fatty fatty two by four, can�t get through the kitchen door.�

Music to soothe the savage beast: Classical Guitar Solo : Clapton

I used to walk to and from school, from first grade through fifth. I would walk and my brother refused to walk with me. No one else would walk with me. I would be alone. At first, it was by force, but eventually I grew to be alone by choice. No one hurt me. No one would scream and yell and insult me.

I remember one day, walking to school. This group of four or five little kids, boys and girls both, were laughing and talking loudly. They saw me ahead of them and started talking about how there was jenny the fat kid. (I was an extremely skinny little girl. I had a body shape much like some current supermodels, but without the breasts. Well, and a lot shorter.)

Music to soothe the savage beast: Whiter Shade of Pale : Clapton

Anyway, they caught up to me, looked at me, laughed cruelly, then ran ahead of me, screaming and carrying on. They didn�t want to get �jenny cooties� They didn�t want to be �contaminated� by me. After the first six months or so of that, I quit listening.

My teacher would call me fatty, pinpoint me as being the one who did it wrong, every time. She would laugh at me and humiliate me in front of the other first graders. She would �lose� my homework. She was not a nice woman to me. And my parents were continually confused about why I hated school.

I got low marks in first grade.

Music to soothe the savage beast: While My Guitar Gently Weeps : Clapton

I remember being at school and walking up into the woods where I usually played. I would make up stories and sing songs to myself. Some of the other girls came up to me one day and asked me to play house with them. I was surprised as this was the first time anyone in the school had voluntarily included me in anything.

I was supposed to be the husband. And these other girls made a soup... with poison in it. So that they could kill off my character. These same girls asked me to play two more times, but both times they were the family and I was supposed to be the monster that destroyed everything. I knew how to growl and I played with them. And I was the monster. And I destroyed things the way they told me I should.

They ran screaming, then laughing as they pointed at me. The second time I saw this, tears on my face and I turned back and went a little deeper into the woods. At least no one would see me cry. That was talked about among the children for a few days.

I remember one day, in around 4th grade or so, when I went to the monkey bars and was playing on them alone. Two little girls, one was a transfer student (I later met with her again at college), came up to me and tentatively started a conversation. We talked a little, we played on the monkey bars together and it was nice.

We then heard a large group of kids coming and I remember hearing, �Here come the other kids, I�m going to pretend I hate you now.�

Music to soothe the savage beast: Tribute to Stevie Ray Vaughan : Clapton

I accepted it. The three of us never played together again. But I remember that day so clearly. -- I think that situation is one of the reasons I like small groups rather than large groups. I like small parties with three or four people, rather than huge groups where no one knows anyone else, and they wouldn�t care anyway. -- I remember those girls fondly. For 10 minutes one day, they risked the fear of �jenny the monster� and found out for themselves that I was not as nasty and gross as they had been told.

I think that the kids in first grade latched onto the example of the bad kid... I think that when the teacher ridiculed and humiliated me in front of them, that they found out I could be emotionally and psychologically abused without punishment to them. I don�t know if that�s true, but I suspect it now.

I learned how to watch people and see what they did and what happened when they did it. During first grade, I would cry almost daily. I would walk home by myself and cry once I got there. I would tell my mother that the teacher was being mean to me. My mother, not understanding my extremely limited vocabulary (I was 6/7), continuously said, �Oh, it can�t be that bad honey.�

I would say that the other kids teased me all the time. She figured a little teasing was normal. After all, what kid doesn�t have stories about how they were teased in school, huh?

I didn�t know how to communicate what was really going on and my mother didn�t know how to understand what my tiny mind was saying. Such is life, eh?

Music to soothe the savage beast: Story Of Us: Main Title Theme : Clapton

Anyway... I grew up being alone for the most part. Sometimes by force, sometimes by choice. I learned how to develop my imagination. I learned how to escape early on. I liked the world I created so much better than the world I really lived in. And I could control my fantasy world.

I remember being about in 5th grade. Every day, for about a month or so, this one kid and myself got off the buss at the same stop. I don�t remember how it started, but one day we started �swordfighting� with our umbrellas. We would do this in silence. There was no verbal or even vocal communication. Nearly every day for about 5 minutes or so as we walked the same way, until we got to his street.

Music to soothe the savage beast: Phenomenon Theme : Clapton

Then, on the last day of school, we both got off the bus. We swordfought until his turn off. He walked up the street a little ways, then looked back at me, smiled, and said, �You know, you�re pretty cool. You�re not as bad as the other kids say you are.�

I smiled, but didn�t say anything, specifically because he�d turned and ran the rest of the way up the block. But I walked the rest of the way home, thinking to myself, �Yeah, maybe I�m not as bad as they say.�

I haven�t thought about that for a very long time. It�s a bittersweet memory. In a positive way.

I learned from that, that I could sometimes share my special world with someone else and they wouldn�t spit on it. I learned that some people wouldn�t laugh at me if they saw who I really was. But I didn�t know I�d learned that. It took quite a few years of experience before I understood exactly what was going on.

Music to soothe the savage beast: More Than Words : Extreme

It�s amazing to me how some music brings life to my memories. *smiles softly, listening to the song*

The words of this song are very important to me. Many people say �I love you� when they don�t really mean it; or perhaps, when they don�t really understand what the words mean. That�s not a phrase to bandy about mindlessly. But, that�s a topic for another time.

*just listens to the rest of the song*

Music to soothe the savage beast: You Can Leave Your Hat On : Clapton

*sighs softly, shrugging a bit* Well, I suppose this shows my eclectic tastes in music, hmmm? Going from a romantic, loving song, to a raunchy, bluesy, get-it-on song. *chuckles quietly* Remember, folks, this is the song used in The Full Monty

*grins* I love this song. Bring it on baby. You can leave your hat on. *smirks*

Anyway, back to the main point of today�s entry. I learned how to escape. I learned that the world I could create in my mind could do amazing things. I also learned how to tune out everything else around me. I learned that I could sing to myself, creating music, and I could create invisible, but gentle and kind, friends. And I could fly. Up, up away from the nasty sounds, the nasty noises, the mean people.

Music to soothe the savage beast: Tick Tock : Clapton, Raitt, Tritt, King et al

I remember that whenever I would play make-believe, I was always an animal. Because animals weren�t as cruel and mean to each other. I was an eagle, cougar, dog, horse... most often either an eagle or a cougar. When people were mean, I could claw them or fly away from them. I liked wolves too, but I didn�t know much about them.

I remember that that day with that boy who admitted I wasn�t so bad, was the last day I ever went to public school. Until I attended the local community college in 2000. My first college was a private, limited acceptance college. My second university was a private, religious school.

Music to soothe the savage beast: Bad Love (live) : Clapton

*listens to this song*

Music to soothe the savage beast: Gotta Getcha Some : Toby Kieth

So... My fantasy world always worked for me. I would slide into it rather easily whenever something negative happened. I liked my fantasies. No one ever hurt me in my fantasies. And no one ever hurt anyone else. Not because they didn�t try, but because I would always come in and rescue.

Music to soothe the savage beast: How Do You Like Me Now :Toby Kieth

I used to have dreams of becoming rich and beautiful so that I could go back to those who had so hurt me and tell them, �How do you like me now, hmm? Here I am, intelligent, slender, competent and capable. Big difference from a gawky, scrawny, scared little girl.�

That�s one of the reasons I�m fat now. The emotional/psychological thing... I�m not as likely to get hurt when I�m fat. That�s what I have believed for a long time, anyway. It�s not true. I can get hurt just as badly, if not worse. As was evidenced by that case of shattered-heart-itis. *chuckles*

But, the person I most need to say �How do you like me now� to is me. See... part of escaping, is that I ignored and pretended I was something different. That meant, that I didn�t find any worth in the person I was. Trust me, this has not been an easy or fast revelation to me. Hell, I�m 31. Have been for four months now. And It�s just in the past month or so that I have understood the importance of my own opinions as they pertain to ME.

I think that what I would like, in a realistic fantasy situation, is to be able to talk to Ms. Hoagy and tell her, �Hey, do you remember that kid back in 76 or so... first grade class, little, scrawny red head. You said she was worthless. You said she shouldn�t have been born. You said she was stupid and would never accomplish anything. You said she was a mistake.� I would pause, smile and then continue. �She knows better now. She knows that your opinion is your own and doesn�t matter anymore. She knows that she is only limited by what she believes, and she doesn�t believe you anymore.�

Music to soothe the savage beast: I Wanna Talk About Me : Toby Kieth

*shrugs* Sometimes the most important lessons happen when I�m sleeping. I get dreams like that sometimes... I�ve mentioned them plenty of times in the annals of this diary.

One of the reasons I read other people�s diaries is that I learn so much about myself from them. People will talk about their lives, lessons they�ve learned, realizations they�ve had, and I�ll be watching them grow, thinking, �Damn, that�s right, maybe I should try one of those too.�

Lately it�s been Lee and Astral. But it�s happened with others too. I realize that I have merit and worth. I have realized that by reading other people�s diaries. Seriously. I have spoken with both Astral and Lee, one on one, via chat and messenger. I have driven into their minds and explored them. I have learned some very interesting things about them, and I have spent many, many hours marveling at how incredible, intricate and wonderful they are.

Then, I see their diaries, where they expose their fears, concerns and self-esteem problems. I see their words when they consider themselves less-than someone else in some form. And that spurs in me the idea that maybe someone is looking at me when I type disparaging remarks about myself. I think that maybe, it�s possible, that someone out there thinks I�m pretty cool and doesn�t agree, in any way, with my own self-opinions.

I look at these people I enjoy, like, want to know better, and respect, and I realize that both of them have parts of their lives which are negative in their eyes. I see these parts of their lives too, but they are so minimal as to be non-existent when I compare the bads with the overwhelming goods.

I see an intensity and intelligence in both of these men which astounds me. I want to be able to spend hours upon hours inside their heads, not touching anything, but looking at everything, seeing how they�re put together, seeing what makes them tick... why they do one thing rather than another.

Even when they don�t see anything good about themselves or their lives, I do!

SO, that turned me to thinking about my own self image. What if all the bad things I can see, are really small in comparison to the good things I am not looking at? What if my size isn�t the biggest turn off for many people? What if my own personal opinion of myself is what keeps people at bay?

Music to soothe the savage beast: House Collection: DePeche Mode�s It�s No Good : Paul Oakenfeld

When I look at Astral, I see an incredible person. There are so very many things about him that I strive to emulate. He is strong in his belief, but he is not afraid (or if he is, he does it anyway) to admit when he doesn�t have the answers.

I look at Lee and see a gorgeous, tall, strong and courageous man. I see a man who has so great a skill, that he can code for hours on end and come out with something that WORKS at the end. I can sit here and code for six, seven, ten hours, and what I have when I�m done is a single web page that looks kinda nice. *chuckles*

Lee has an ability to look at a problem and snap pieces in place to form an answer to it so quickly. He has, many times, held up the mirror so that I could see myself accurately. He has pinpointed flaws in my logic and understanding which were so simple to fix, and yet, I�d stumbled over them so many times. He has promotion in his job, more responsibility and the respect of his boss. He has a wife who loves him so deeply that she is willing to admit when she is afraid of something, about him, or about life in general. He has a son who is such a precious and cherished gift.

He has a poor self image. But I see so much wonderful stuff about him.

I realize, from that, that perhaps I should stop thinking about what I�m not and start thinking about what I am.

Music to soothe the savage beast: Words For Love : Paul Oakenfeld

So, what am I? I am a tall, beautiful, courageous and cherished woman. I am a gift and a blessing to those I meet, not because I�m special, but because I strive to be a blessing and gift to all. I am a good listener, and I can see through the bullshit of apathy, offering an objective and true view of who and what a person is. I am a woman capable of listening to someone and hearing. I am music. I can sing and my voice will soar as my mind used to (and still does sometimes). I can listen to a song and feel the power, emotion, passion and life flowing through it.

I am a best friend. I am a kind and gentle woman. I am honest and straight forward most of the time. I will tell you the truth if you ask me a question, and I won�t sugar coat it for you unless you specifically ask for that. I am powerful and free and pure and clean and bright and everything I had ever dreamed of being.

But most important?

I am happy. I so enjoy my life. I like who and what I am. I can see myself shining with an internal power, an internal fire. I can see myself like this... so strong and confident and attractive because... well... *smiles softly* Because I am what I need to be. I have a strength of character I didn�t know existed. And I will succeed in everything I put my hand to, not because I�m all-powerful or magic.

Music to soothe the savage beast: Planet Rock (SwordFish) : Paul Oakenfeld

I will succeed because no matter how many tries it takes, I will keep going until I have accomplished everything I want to. I will work and push myself farther and harder. I will do and accomplish all the things I need to. And I will, again, sing like Andrea Bocelli. I will again bring people to tears with the passion in my voice. I will again soar in REAL LIFE.

I remember being there on stage, singing... I remember my voice teacher telling me time and time again that I wasn�t serious enough about singing, that I didn�t try hard enough. And then, she saw me on stage. She saw me perform for an audience. She said I was serious. She said that I was a different person on stage.

I know that. I didn�t truly understand it when she said it, but I understand it now.

When I�m on stage... I�m flying. When I�m on stage, singing, I am flying on the notes. My soul, my spirit, part of me, is in every word. As I sing, my soul is pushed forth and given, freely, without consequence or restriction. I am open and honest and real. I am music.

And I love it. I miss it, and I will be there again. I will have it again. I will be music again because once you are music, you can�t ever not be.

It�s like a radio... When you look at a radio, you realize it�s a radio. Yeah, that�s nice, a radio. Cool, but I�ve seen those before. And then, you turn it on and hear the soul of music through Bose speakers. The music is alive, and you can almost taste it.

That�s me. Whether I�m singing or not, I am music. When I�m on, though...

*shrugs*

I am happy. I enjoy my life. And I am proud of what I have accomplished. I am happy in who and what I am and I like me.

It has taken me many, many, many years to be able to say that. But, I like me. A lot.

*smiles softly*

Stay safe and be well, folks. You are only limited by what you believe. Believe you can fly, and you will!