Secrets to My Little Soul
Dear Jenny,
You are such a sweet and kind little thing. Yes, little. In fact, as I write to you at age 43, I weigh less little I did when I was in college; and I’m now taking much better care of myself. You will forever get picked on for being “skinny”, so don’t worry about that, for goodness sake. I know that’s your number one concern, at age 7. In fact, don’t worry at all. I do it now, and it solves nothing. If you start young, you can start practicing “letting go” and help us both out. As it turns out, aunt Kathy was right, even though you hated hearing it, “Life isn’t fair”. In fact, all the name calling and self-serving cruelty of children will be found in many adults.
Because, Secret #1) Many People Never Grow Up:
They take their experiences and the perspectives conceived by them; and carry both into the future like a little kid skipping down the lane books hanging in a satchel, tied to a branch. There is also an invisible satchel, however, and in it lies all the mental and emotional impressions seductively whispering to us; visions of who we are thus far. Many people coddle and store these impressions as though they were a fine wine; our essence distilled by wishes...and vanity. Yet, all too often the visions we create are poison in colorful bottles, they are irresistible. They inebriate us from sound decision, they discourage honest reflection and dissuade us from the most necessary changes. We grab at these bottles when we are children, not knowing the difference between the wholesome and the empty; but they grow into adult behaviors, often in the form of addiction. Whether to something tangible or simply an idea, it interferes with the growing up unless the poisons are discovered, and then drank little by little, as if creating an antidote, until finally, some people are able to digest them. It is then they are finally free of the invisible satchel, and lighten the other, only taking the knowledge from the books, and leaving both nearly empty, for new experiences and treasures to fill both. Those that don’t, become burdened and tired, angry and sad, and live a nightmare until death wakes them.
Secret #2) Boys and Alcohol both will Hurt You:
Your thinness will always cause women to dislike you and will not be sexually attractive in a world full off T and A, (Believe me, it gets worse)...so you will use alcohol to give you false courage and allow males to give you false hope. You will do this with men for around 20 years, and just a little longer with alcohol. Again, help us both out. Don’t. Drink. Ever. You aren’t like the others. In so many ways, my sweet, darling, innocent girl. You are so smart, so unique, and I know, you will always feel alone, so learn to love yourself, now. Growing up, you will hear our culture paints qualities such as “unique” in colors designed to make it seem like the unique person lives an endless day at an amusement park. But the experiences that create the unique individual are often far darker, more disturbing hues.
I know you were sodomized before you taught yourself to read, and just as you will be abused by so many people in your childhood, you will always find a refuge in books. Don’t settle for only being a consumer of books, the forge of your experiences demand that you be a producer of ideas and stories, as well. So keep your journals now. The good, the bad, keep it all. Great writing rarely comes from great times. Don’t lose your journal when you go to NYC in the early 2000′s and live on the carnival-like streets for 3 months. That journal will document far more haunted houses than fun houses, but losing this record will be like losing a friend that helped you through one of the trials of your life.
Yes, Sweetie, that will happen. Do you see the severity of the situation, yet? This three-month-long journey is the second you have taken at this point. The first was across country. That was when Grandpa died and you followed Further and Phish. The second was when your first love who was actually a sociopathic drug addict, broke your heart. You will also go twice to AZ with no real plan, to a beautiful place named Sedona. The last trip will almost work. However, Sedona will have changed, and you will still be drinking, so the decisions wont be clear and firm because you were will be so lost and will not see the opportunities, due to your foggy lenses.
But now, well, those masks that freaked you out in that comic? The ones worn in what you later figured out was a dark joke re nuclear war, well similar ones are required to go into stores now. Or you could get sick, or get others sick, and so many are dying. So you were right to be freaked out by that comic and you were right about something like this going down in your lifetime, but being right only means one thing...you should write more. So that you will not go through life feeIing like Cassandra, the unheeded prophetess, but being heard, like a Tall and Confident Oracle. Your voice is tiny but it is worthy. It took a little girl to teach the whole world that, when she embarks on a journey to save the environment. So, use your voice, because those boys will make you feel so unimportant, and you will let them, always holding an ember of hope that the next one will be different.
Little one, it gets really bad. What you allow to be done to you, the shame, the cycling, the increasingly frightening environments, as alcohol is no longer enough to kill the pain. Then the dark hours come. They will wash you out into the cruel sea and you will swim endless hours against riptides before you reach shore again, Your Beautiful Grandma will already be dead, and you will be barely living until it takes two DWIs to wake you up. Then she sends what looks like an Angel to guide you through. And he does, and you guide him. I ask you, have patience with this one more in the beginning. Trust him. Don’t do to him what the world has almost succeeded in doing to you. Because it is by not loving and trusting, but instead listening to your minds’ seditious whispering that will keep your hands grasping at poisons inside that invisible satchel take all your focus, that you put this relationship in a tenuous position, where it constantly feels like it needs saving, almost 8 years later. That brings me to my third and final Secret.
Secret #3) Find Yourself and Dont let Go:
You will not always have your Grandma. Know that, as you read this, that words not yet spoken are already written in a book. A book about living in harmony with yourself and nature, that we wrote. Keep reading the book you own, the one that teaches kids what they can do to save the planet. Then act on it. For you are right in fearing for our animals and plants, and you must start your mission to save them, now. For, as I write this I look back on all the time wasted chasing smoke signals, and you could have been creating your own light, and through that fire, lighting the whole world with the same compassion you hold for its voiceless inhabitants. You, being so brave and surviving so much, it doesn’t end; but the thriving may soon come. And, oh the stories we now have to write.
So, as you don’t recognize yourself as the author, for your name has changed, I know you do resonate with these words. I sent you this book to beg you to follow your own drum and don’t let them crush you. The book is written, but the ink is not yet dried; and in your innocence, you still have the ability to edit and change the path of your narrative. Start meditation, now, and continue not to eat meat. Don’t give in to a time period that does not comprehend you, yet, and perhaps never will. Take those art classes, and become who you are meant to be, instead of consuming knowledge in the form of more schooling only to accumulate debt. You did not have a father to install confidence in you, so you will have to do it yourself. It will make things so much easier. And oh yes, we will still have stories to tell, but in each one, you will be a hero, and never a victim. So, embrace your passions and morals, and inscribe them in your soul; then find out how to live that life. The one where you only have what you need and all you see is love.
Love,
You
XxxxxxxxxOoooooooo
P.S. Someone will steal your Curious George doll received from Santa, your 3rd Christmas; from your dorm in your second college. Don’t let them. You’ll miss him, and he goes on so many adventures with you before he goes away. Japan was his favorite. So was your Grammie, who you will hear, calling you, Jenny, once again. later on when you are finally able to hear past this noisy world. Right now, it’s so quiet. We are all, inside. I believe love will win, soon.
Google Translate
1 song - What if it's us,only us by me
Languages I'm transltating- Hindi
Original-
You say it’s not possible
I say we’ll do it together
You say it’s not probable
I say we’ll do it forever
We’ll make it till we break it,
Cut it till it bleeds
Do it together face it,
Never grovel or plead
What if it’s us,only us?
What if we face the world?
What if you’re mine,only mine?
What if we face the world?
You say you’re unsure
I say I’ll open the door
You say you love me
I say I love you more
We’ll see it till we own it
We’ll do it till we’re good
If anything you’ve shown that
We do things I never could
What if it’s us,only us?
What if we face the world?
What if you’re mine,only mine?
What if we face the world?
Translate-
aap kahate hain ki yah sambhav nahin hai
main kahata hoon ki ham ise ek saath karenge
aap kahate hain ki yah sambhaavit nahin hai
main kahata hoon ki ham ise hamesha ke lie kareng
ham ise tab tak banaenge jab tak ham ise tod nahin dete,
ise tab tak kaaten jab tak yah gal na jae
kya yah ek saath saamana karate hain,
kabhee groov ya vinatee na karen
kya hoga agar yah ham, keval ham?
agar ham duniya ka saamana karen to kya hoga?
kya hoga agar tum mere ho, keval mere ho?
agar ham duniya ka saamana karen to kya hoga?
aap kahate hain ki aap anishchit hain
main kahata hoon ki main daravaaja nahin kholoonga
tumane kaha tumhen mujhase pyaar hai
main kahata hoon ki main tumase jyaada pyaar karata hoon
jab tak ham ise apana nahin lete, tab tak ham ise dekhenge
ham ise tab tak karenge jab tak ham achchhe na hon
yadi aapane kuchh bhee dikhaaya hai
am aisee cheejen karate hain jo main kabhee nahin kar sakata tha
kya hoga agar yah ham, keval ham?
agar ham duniya ka saamana karen to kya hoga?
kya hoga agar tum mere ho, keval mere ho?
agar ham duniya ka saamana karen to kya hoga?
My Piece -
Bear with me here for sometime.Life is selfish.First let’s think about it-What is life? People might say life is having fun,it’s a rollercoaster,it’s being successful etc.But to me life is a lie.Life is being selfish,because why do we live?To enjoy the simple pleasures life brings.We study hard,get a job and earn money,all for what?to survive?What do we get by surviving-the pleasures of life like food,home,enjoyment,family,friends.All or life we have been taught something-not to be selfish.Yet living itself makes us selfish,more if no one needs you.I’m gonna now speak about how this relates to me.I am living life selfishly because no one needs me.My parents were doing fine and happy before I was born.My friends have other friends and their own family,and I don’t have anyone else to care for.I believe in the value of selflessnes,and dying is a selfless act.It reduces the burden you give to other people,emotionally,mentally,physicaly or financially. I want to be a selfless person,and I have thought about ending my life many times for what use am I? I’m worthless.But the only thing pulling me back is the enjoyment of life,and I end up being selfish.
Translate-
kuchh samay ke lie yahaan mere saath rahen. jeevan svaarthee hai. isake baare mein aaie vichaar karen-jeevan kya hai? log kah sakate hain ki jeevan mazedaar hai, yah ek rolarakostar hai, yah saphal ho raha hai aadi. lekin mere lie jeevan ek jhooth hai. ham svaarthee ho rahe hain, kyonki ham kyon jeete hain? saral sukhon ka aanand lene ke lie jeevan laata hai. ham kadee mehanat karate hain, adhyayan karate hain? naukaree aur paisa kamaate hain, sabhee ke lie kya? jeevit rahane ke lie? kya ham jeevit rahakar praapt karate hain - bhojan, ghar, bhog, parivaar, doston jaise jeevan ke sukh. hamen ya kisee ko kuchh sikhaaya jaata hai-svaarthee hone ke lie nahin. khud hee hamen svaarthee banaata hai, isase jyaada agar kisee ko aapakee jaroorat nahin hai. main ab is baare mein baat karata hoon ki yah mere saath kaise sambandhit hai. main svaarthee jeevan jee raha hoon kyonki kisee ko bhee meree jaroorat nahin hai. mere janm se pahale mere maata-pita theek aur khush the. mere dost any mitron aur unake svayan ke parivaar hain, aur mere paas dekhabhaal karane ke lie koee aur nahin hai. main nisvaarth bhaav se vishvaas karata hoon, aur marana ek nisvaarth kaary hai. yah aapako any logon ko, bhaavanaatmak, maanasik, shaareerik roop se die jaane vaale bojh ko kam karata hai. ya aarthik roop se. main ek nisvaarth vyakti banana chaahata hoon, aur mainne apane jeevan ka ant karane ke baare mein kaee baar socha hai ki main kya upayog kar raha hoon? main bekaar hoon. lekin mujhe vaapas kheenchane vaalee ekamaatr cheej jeevan ka aanand hai, aur main svaarthee hoon.
For Thanksgiving we’re Great-Full
Anne cooked an amazing meal
making everybody feel
thankful. So full and thankful.
‘Fill up’ everybody’s plate.
She knows how to really sate.
Tankful. Filled up and thankful.
Who do we appreciate?
Anne, who jammed food on our plate.
Plateful. Appreciate-full.
Stomachs filled to bursting. Wow!
Anne cooked us some awesome chow!
Grateful. For chow we’re great-full.
Social Services
“I don’t need to wear a mask! I’ve got individual rights!”
“Well then - if you think your individual rights trump your social responsibilities, don’t use our social services then.”
“Huh?”
“I’m saying don’t clog up the hospitals when you get sick, asshole - just stay home and die responsibly.”
“I don’t have COVID-19 though! It’s a hoax!”
“Then I’m sure you’ll pull through just fine if you stay at home.”
“You can’t deny me care!”
“Why? You denied caring about anyone else - why the fuck should we care about you?”
[And yes, Americans are currently overwhelming their hospital systems with COVID-19 cases while literally dying denying the virus exists - welcome to the “land of the free” where our world class healthcare providers are about to move en masse to countries that actually appreciate their services because they are fed the fuck up with us]
[Italy already called dibs on Dr. Fauci.]
Dear Past me: WHY
Dear Past me:
Why did you do this?
Let’s get right into this...
Why did it happen?
We were 7,
And you licked the hand rail,
Because your brother,
Said it would taste good?
I mean...ngl, it was quite appetizing...
BUT NOT THE POINT-
I have another question for past me:
When that girl asked you how your day was,
Why did you lie to her?
Saying your day was fine,
Putting a mask on,
You knew it was not fine.
Your friend kidnapped you-
Dragging you against your will,
Up to this guy,
Who said he’d give you 5 dollars,
If they brought you here by force-
Well they sure did, didn’t they?
NOT A GOOD DAY-
I mean you got 5 dollars-
BUT STILL!
And final question:
Why did you ask for a second chance?
You didn’t deserve it.
Not any of it.
Second chances don’t go to people,
Who set their brothers hair on fire,
Because it looked like “Grass”
I WAS 6! (((And playing with fire :)
And I got punished :(
He was fine tho-
Her pen Her Voice
She couldn't speak,
but she could hear.
She heard every sound,
every noise,
every creature that there ever was.
But most importantly,
she heard words.
She hears the words that were said.
Each day she kept them.
Hidden from others.
When she was 5 she went to school,
just as every normal kid would do.
The other kids asked her if she could talk,
but unfortunately she could not.
But the kids didn't care,
and besides, she could hear.
She could still see,
and so she played.
Hopscotch and tag.
But then she got older.
The kids who she played with,
didn't want to play with her anymore.
She couldn't talk,
but she could sign.
She learns sign language when she was young,
but the other kids didn't think it was fun.
So they didn't understand,
not a word she did.
So she learned to write.
She wrote what she wanted.
She wrote what she needed.
Her handwriting beautiful,
elegant, and small.
She also used big words,
words the other kids didn't understand.
They seemed so simple to her,
but they didn't want to learn.
They already did that at school enough anyway.
She spent her time in the bookstore after school.
Her father was deployed,
Her mother worked at the bookstore,
so she kept an eye on her daughter that way.
She did her school, and then volunteered.
She stacked shelves and filed papers.
She had questions asked to her,
but she could never answer.
One day a little boy came in,
he could not hear,
for he was deaf.
But he wanted a book from which to learn,
and there was only one way for him to communicate.
He signed,
"I need a book for my school.
Could you please help me?"
The boy's mother tried to translate,
but the girl was already right to it.
"No need to explain, I know sign too.
Now let's find just the book for you."
The boy smiled,
and she kept those words,
never spoken,
in her heart.
She fell on hard times.
The bookstore closed,
her best friend moved,
the only one to learn sign.
It was all she could do to keep up with school.
She was pushed in the halls,
cornered in the grounds.
They demand that she talk,
that she was faking since she could see and hear.
She often sat with her mother,
rocking herself,
knees up to her chest.
She had heard screams before,
but she had never made a peep.
But sometimes,
she wished she could scream.
She decided to write a letter to her friend,
but she ended up writing a poem.
She crumpled it up in the trash,
she started again.
But she realized she felt better.
The poem helped her calm down.
So she wrote another,
and another,
and another.
The words kept in her,
all those years.
They were finally written,
as she shook with tears.
Every word that she heard,
ever sound that she knew,
everything that she's seen.
She poured it onto those pages.
Paper was her words,
The pen her voice.
She showed her mom,
her mom showed her teacher.
So touched were they by her words,
that it was shared with the school.
Some students listened,
but most did not.
It didn't matter to the girl.
She knew her talent,
she knew her way.
And now some kids would let her play.
Then she became an author,
she brought in money,
and she let her heart go.
The girl could not speak,
but she could hear.
And every single word was held dear.
For the paper her words,
her pen her voice.
Act Natural
If you're reading this, you've successfully landed on Earth and will need to follow these instructions to blend in as you procure the precious fuel, Milky Way Bars.
1: Analyze any human that approaches you and claim to have the same "political views" as them. This will greatly enhance your ability to garner their trust.
2: They eat with their mouths. This is nothing to be alarmed by. If you are uncomfortable attempting to absorb nutrients this way, wait until the coast is clear before exposing your frontbutt to feed.
3: If they ask you to "go out for drinks" Do Not Go Out For Drinks. This is a trap. These beverages are not to maintain a consistent hydrated status. Humans act...strange on these foreign elixirs. Politely deny them and say something along the lines of "thank you for offering, however I have work in the morning." Or "I have to go, my child's on fire." These will likely lead to a mutual respect for your decision. And lastly.
4: Do not pet the dogs. This will be tempting as their eyes are undeniable and pure but do not pet,the dogs. They run the planet. Do not inform the humans however as this is our advantage to collecting resources and moving on.
Thank you for your service to the Galactic Mining Empire as we desperately need all the help we can get in these times of drought.