Reflections

There's only so much story I can write in my head until I finally get my lazy butt out of bed and get busy. Usually titles come to me first, but that will irritate me and then I will feel so boxed in. Then I will go through this whole process and tug of war with myself : Who made the rules of what I want to write about. Charles Bukowski keeps playing through my brain, making me laugh. I'd never heard of him, until my daughter got hooked in her high school years. We would read together like crazy,
hunger for more, immediately after we finished a  page, chapter, book. The descriptions fill my brain, my soul, like no other as he spoke of himself, life, people in it. The rawness, truth as he saw it, no holding back, actually more times than not. But I think that is the beauty of it, he called it like he saw it with no apologies, his life did not allow for that.
It got me thinking about how many layers it takes to break through to get to the core. Then, just when you think what fabulous progress you have made- time to go back to the beginning again. That's how we learn and grow, stay fresh, humble. Doesn't mean we always dig the process and open the door politely for afternoon tea.
There is probably more Bukowski in me than I know, knocking at the door. Begging to be let out and tell it like it is.... just write. No apologies, explanations, fear of fallout. The thoughts that resides in my mind, as my hubby says could make many a truck driver blush. Stories whirling around in my head begging for expression, but the good catholic girl sitting in Sister Eileen's office for so many infractions holds back, waiting to be sent to the office again.  All of those office visits made for some creative plotting, one being hoisting up the biggest  pair of ladies underwear, bought from the dime store. We had never seen such big white bloomers in our life, that's what made this little adventure even funnier. Running them up the the school flag pole- just to watch Sister Eileen's expression. It wasn't that my friend and I were about being irreverent to our country. Just 7th graders wanting to watch Nuns come out of the convent and see those giant bloomers blowing ever so gently in the wind. Things that made us laugh. There were so many restrictions and rules and punishments for breathing, at an early age we just needed comic relief, and lots of it we would find. Some more inappropriate than others, again the tighter the restrictions placed on us- the neon "Girls Gone Wild" sign blinked on faster- and off we were into the wild street of Temple City. Anyone who knows Temple City is laughing- because it was and is anything but wild, and in the 70's was a very sleepy little hamlet. An occasional ninety year old on a three wheeling bicycle may have mowed you down back in the day. I do see where this story wants to meander down this early morn, the great divide which has been my life.  I have always enjoyed many personalities in friendships, probably to suit all the sides of myself. Maybe that is just how we do it, we attract a little of everything in people, what we need, and vice versa. Sometimes the mirror reflecting back does not show the image we thought we "were",  time for a new mirror, the windex must not be working. I think this is a good place to stop, reflections. :)