I’ll Give You Thirteen Reason Why

Lace up those Asics,
How’s the Gatorade taste, Kid?
We’re at the races
and I’m intimidated by the fast pace
it paces.
And times ticking
I don’t wanna waste it,
cuz life is cause and effect
and I have yet to see the affect of me
I’m not meant to be a burden
or a pest
Cause I’m DRIVEN,
I’m not hidden!
I’m on Fire!
I love the truth
I’m not a liar,
I’m a lion,
a Leo that saw where Amerigo!
I can’t see a mountain
and not climb it
So I’m putting my feet to the pavement
Blood sweat and tears?
Didn’t think I could make it
It hurt.
For me wisdom came in devastating spurts
The dream I chase
is so close I can taste it
I’ve been given a gift


I have a tattoo on my arm…8-9-11….a date…I got it on that very day…it was three days before my birthday.  I called it “The-day-it-was-too-late-tattoo.”  And it had everything to do with the biggest, slyest devil on my shoulder, addiction.  When I was at work and people would see the clock on my right arm (different tattoo) I would say, “It’s 6:38 on the clock….I did that on purpose.”

Jill Burr would always ask….”What’s it mean?!  What is 638?”   Jill was a DPS security officer at Harborview Medical Center and we have wrestled many a combative patient together…Note to self, check in on Jill and see how she is doing these days :).

Random facts bout the number 13:  What does it mean to me?  I was born on August 13.  My 21st birthday was on FRIDAY THE 13th…(da da daaaaa….FORESHADOWING!)  A week before I actually left adolescence behind for the treacherous teen years, I almost died, AGAIN (there have been a handful of close calls and adrenaline rushes) …it was in a hay bailing accident that almost nabbed me… 🙂 …, exciting little story I’m writing it down on a scratch paper next to my desk where I can keep a list titled “writing assignments.”  🙂

Right after I got my 8-9-11 ‘The Day It Was Too Late” tattoo…’  I was at a point in my life where I WAS “GOING THROUGH IT”, as someone I once knew would have worded it.   In fact…I had just started going to therapy and this coworker had approached me…his name was Robert Bandera…he said “God told me to give this to you….”  (I believe him).  He handed me a book on tape…it was a self-help book all about saying out loud what you haven’t said out loud before…the things trapped inside that can’t be verbalized.  It was right at the beginning of my whirlwind, when I told Jessica, “There are some things I cannot say out loud, I have tried and they get stuck, but I can write anything….may I WRITE YOU?”  , in fact it was listening to what Robert had given me that gave me the courage to email Jessica.  (Thanks Rob.)  I was 33 years old, I had just had an injury that had ended my fight career) my husband had an affair and had left me rather abruptly to paint a new picture in a new town with a new family and I was working nights on an ambulance…losing my shit.  My reasons to be were like sand through my fingertips…I could not get a grip…and the slope or rope or whatever I’ve been sliding down was steep and slippery and this has been an uphill climb.

At this same time my then partner on the ambulance, my amazing friend, Heather…. Heather handed me a book called Thirteen Reasons Why and told me that I should read it because it reminded her a bit of me…it was about this girl with some snowballing conundrums….at the time I didn’t know how frighteningly close to home it would all be.  I was just holding on.

Anyways…I have a lot to say and it’s going to start trickling out of me and I imagine it is important so I would like it if you read.  I wish I could spend all my life writing and making videos and talking and interviewing peeps while out and about (currently hand out blankets and toiletries and other such things to the homeless while I’m delivering my papers…a thank you to Kingston Mercantile, a Borrowed Kitchen Bakery, and a merchant marine named Mark Jensen for your beautiful inspiration, I am paying it forward.)  It would be spectacular instead of sleeping during the day and delivering newspapers in the Everett and Lynnwood and Edmonds area every night/morning…if I could just work with and help others collaborate and make art and get things to people in need….

(note to self)Emma, welcome to your new testament… your SECOND Living Journal.  You have made it…now breathe….  It is just beginning…and I have no idea what tomorrow is going to be like.

(note to reader)  No editor…writing on the fly, I can’t afford the middle WOman because I am HER…I do believe.  (AKA, what I’m trying to say is that ‘it’ will come out in one way or another…I am…my own middle man.  I have no editor.  I don’t proofread.  I have poor grammar.  So be patient with me, and feedback is welcomed and appreciated, but if it’s something petty please just let it slide for now?  🙂

Thank you for sharing this day with me.  This wonderful Cinco De Mayo on this beautiful planet earth….she needs to be cared for….we’ve been mean to her…I imagine she will let us know soon…Somewhere in the bible it talks about being luke-warm….causing a spitting….and I imagine that is what this world’s atmosphere is.  It feels luke-warm and icky.  It is murky gray area.  Smoggy foggy gray, I say!  I don’t like it.  The world is weird.  I don’t know home…and a spitting out of God’s mouth doesn’t sound pleasant…IN FACT IT SOUNDS DOWNRIGHT CATACLYSMIC.  It sounds a lot like God vomit…so if we as a collective could perhaps work to preserve HUMANITY?  I would like that….I bet your kids would as well.  hahaha.


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