— ABCs Of Kink

Life is a series of steps. There is no plan but the one which unfolds. This is what can be counted on, though dreaming is central as we decide where to place our feet. Moments before the storm are some of my favorite. I think the meaning of life is tension. Strings stretching out between…

via — ABCs Of Kink


Death and the faded*


I sit here now past 2 AM. I tried to sleep going to bed around a quarter to midnight. And preceded to lay there till about 1:30 AM. Deep in thought and restlessness over life.

The siblings’ funeral is today. One which I’ll probably skip. As the idea of a two hour long event with what passes for my genetic family seems only to invoke dread and the knowledge that it won’t end well.(Yes I know funerals don’t generally end well in the first place.) So yeah why spend two hours in annoyance.

Since Tuesday, I have wondered about feelings or lack there of. This dead sibling one of eight others all half to me. Yet to my knowledge the one closest to my age and whom I grew up with. Yet there is nothing only the feeling or rather the thought of “okay she’s dead”. There’s not even the empathy that comes with a death of a stranger. Just goes to show I didn’t consider her a stranger.

I try to remember the last time I saw her. Probably in the early 2000’s if I recall right. Certainly before 2007, like most of my genetic family I cut ties with them only seeing any of them sporadically in the last decade or so. This sibling holds only the distinction of probably being the one I disliked the most growing up.

She was the youngest till me. A seven year age gap, displacing her as the baby of the family so to speak. My earliest memories of her are always the same. Her reminding me of the fact of being a half sibling. To me it’s a pretty petty fucked up thing to tell a 5 or 6 year old kid, he’s not your real brother. More so when that continues years later always being mentioned in some shape or form. Into her adult years and my teen years it would go on.

Add to that various instances of how dysfunctional my genetic family is. Some she was directly the cause of by pretty much being a carbon copy of our maternal parent. Left me with little love for her on any level. Never cared much for personality nor how she raised or in some cases didn’t raise my nephews. Again hearkening back to the parental skills of selfishness she learned from that same parent.

Sure she like I inherited dysfunctions from our upbringing as did the other 4 siblings on the maternal side. Yet still I cannot forget nor forgive the past. Least when it comes the genetic family. So she’s dead does it alter my current life , no. She’s been dead and faded to me for years.

I had a whole witty irrelevant thing planned with the title of this post. Yet now I find it less amusing. So the in joke will remain mine and mine alone. For humor is a great thing even when not in tragedy.


Grand schemes and forgotten dreams
Circle round
From the cradle to the grave
Everyone is a coward yearning to be brave
Yet no one will tell you all is not what it seems
Will you dance or will stand in the corner hoping for a chance
There’s only a choice
To what voice will you listen
The one that holds you down
Or the one that will see you free
Choose for yourself
Choose your path and see where it might lead