well didn�t I kick over a can of worms again� what a subconscious mind I've got under the lid... seriously, I appreciate all the concern (and even appreciate the hate mail, though I am puzzled why anyone who claims to be reading me regularly would email me for the very first time in a negative or hostile way (don�t mean any of you who contacted me publicly in comments or who called with concern, mind you, your concern is much appreciated... I'm giving up sleep for you to prove it)� I am wondering why some people would read me for a long time and reach out only when they find something to berated me about (or prejudge negatively or misunderstanding)� and why anyone who never had any contact with before would presume they know me well enough to judge me, case closed, based on five words, well, the wonders of human nature never cease to amaze me�

no worries about my emotional or psychological well being, I take abuse for a living (no joke)... when was the last time someone tried to spit in your eye or take your head off with a heavy wooden chair?... anger lets me know you care about something, even if you are not exactly sure why or how or about what... but we'll get to that later...

and if my laughing offends anyone, well, consider reading the rest of the words again and take the other thousand or so words as seriously (and believe them as much) as the five words that got you to finally say hell� and hello�

personally, I would think any reasonable system of belief or common sense alone would suggest a person say hello to a stranger before telling them to go to hell, ya know?�

word.

yes, I am still playing with words, and the message so far in this entry is to a select few who never contacted me before yesterday and mixes sarcasm with seriousness, but then, I would hope that that is at least one of the things you come here for since it�s an integral part of my writing style (a mix of sarcasm and seriousness)�

now to answer the rest of you who have said hello at least once and know me well enough to know my name and come here with an open mind looking for the fun of words (cuz that�s my first reason for writing here)� and to my friends and you dear folk becoming friends� I trust you know didn�t mean to tweak any nerve hard enough to hurt or cause any serious stress and in the limited time I had last night I tried to get word to each of you privately and in my comments to quell any worries you had�

most of this entry is going to come from an email I wrote inspired by your comments and the question of what I meant by #5 on the short list in the previous entry� you might need to read that before this one to get the point, but proceed any way you please... some of this entry will even be the first comment I wrote in response to comments left for the previous entry, a comment that I somehow needed to re-write cuz I could not find it for upload after getting distracted by my roommates... as I said, I won�t quote from yesterday�s entry, but I will tease a bit by pointing you to the rest of the entry, specifically the preramble that leads to #1 and then #3, #4, and #5 in the rambling list� and if you don�t have enough time to read all that again, then how about #2 on the short list?� seriously...

I love you all J

especially you few worried about my reputation� maybe I should take it more seriously, but I find an online reputation an amusing (hysterically funny at times) concept because, well, read the entry linked as word and see if you can understand that perspective� I will try to babble a bit less and be a bit more succinct here out of respect for a few of you who really do appear concerned for me�

I woke up yesterday afternoon, a few hours earlier than I usually do, cuz my phone was ringing a few times and I had to go find where I left it cuz it was about time for Precious to need something� during my sleep time, which is usually daylight hours, I will usually look at my phone if it wakes me and if it is not Precious, I will most likely roll over and continue sleeping unless I feel rested� it�s a matter of maintaining the body�s health, not rudeness or avoiding your calls and I trust you to understand that that is part of life on a night shift�

I decided the phone rang enough so that I should listen to the messages even though I still needed four more hours sleep to make eight and I try to get eight hours at least every other day and yesterday was one of those other days cuz I didn't catch up on sleep on Monday as I usually do�

one voice mail message in particular was from someone I respect enough to get me out of bed to look at the computer and I came, read your comments, and wrote the following comment that somehow didn�t get posted (as I said, I lost it while distracted by my roomies and wrote another comment instead� hey, hopefully the comments I left helped clear up the confusion, but remember I was in a deep sleep stupor and I think some wise part of me might have considered my first comment a bit too playful to just drop here and head back to sleep�

anyway, this was the comment that was (or wasn�t, actually):

I just woke to get a drink and should be back asleep, but decided to sit down and drink my water because laying down in bed and drinking water often leads to wet sheets cuz I just might fall back to sleep before I put the cap back on the water bottle... what woke me was the phone and voice mails suggest I check behind the candoor so here I am...

ah, dear peoples (and don't I demonstrate my points too well sometimes J

do I really have to clear up a good controversy this soon?

of course I don't and the playful side of me says let�s see what happens if I don�t, more serious sides of me say now that I have your attention, let's see what you do with it but then, I love and respect your concern for how I am read by people who have not taken the time or made the effort to know me as you have (and you are all beautiful people in my mind, even if you never reach out - no guilt, no worries, ok?) because I was just as seriously irreverent in #1 on the long list and #2 on the short list as I was irreverently serious (or vice versa) in #5 on the short list and the paragraphs that immediately followed... and maybe the balanced voice in my head saying now that I have your attention, let's see what I can do with it is the voice I should listen to... and your advice, of course...

I was a teenage werewolf...
I was a child prodigy...
I was a child bride�
I was a male prostitute..

wait, that last one should probably not be used in this example of how I used language, but dang if it isn't there and heck if I'm going to start editing myself now (see, there is seriousness in all my rambled, #3, #4, and #5 on the long list too)...

. . . excuse me, Rasputin is looking for the TV remote and until he finds it there'll be no concentration here... Precious is constantly misplacing it and then they start sorting through my piles of stuff thinking I must have somehow stuck it under piles of papers around my computer area... ironically and appropriately, the real-life environment rears it's head up even as I write a response to you�

. . . . . . ok, it's a bit later and I still hope to get back to sleep so I shall try to keep this brief (well, brief for me... Rasputin's phone rang during the search so add that delay into this comment too... finally, the remote was discovered under the couch cushions on the third time searching the couch (first time I searched there, alas)...

so where were we?...

yes, those examples� make sense or do I need to explain further?� a child bride is someone married as a child� a teenage werewolf as a teenager� a child pedophile is a person attracted to and who has some sort of sex with children as a child� maybe my literary logic is too literal sometimes, but it makes sense to me�

as I mentioned at least a few times in my diary and on other lists, I started exploring my sexuality with partners in nursery school, about 4 years old, naked, touching, sex... she was four, I was four, since age matters so much in our culture, and it was our mutual idea... I've been interested in and unafraid of sensuality and sexuality ever since and no cultural pressures have been able to scare me out of it (and I faced a bunch)... I was never afraid of my body or sensuality or sexuality and found a few others in my classes in school who did not buy into the cultural taboos against sex either... so as a child, or what our culture calls a child, I loved a few other children in every way possible... and being an innate observer, most of the time I was not the initiator of the interaction... I don't think aggression is part of sexuality until we get older...

I thought this would be clear based on the other items on these two lists, but maybe some of you who do not know me well enough to understand my word play (or give me the benefit of the doubt � and I do not mean you guys here in comments) read the five or two words of #5 on the short list and missed the rest of this entry and this diary, which is full of word play and literary challenges as much as it is full of compassion and a willingness to die for love and a better world... all of that is me, no joke, that is why I do what I do in the real world for minimal income when I could be doing something else and living in luxury...

if you want to know more, call me J

so maybe that helps even more than the comment yesterday and maybe it doesn�t and maybe it even shocks or upsets even more people but I am what I am and I hope my fearlessness and lack of inhibition and insecurity is not mistaken for disrespect or something harmful based on your fears, history, or insecurities... I mean no harm and am trying to find the words that convey the message I think will clarify my meaning� and now I will pull from the email I wrote when I realized I was not going to fall back to sleep which digs deeper into the subject at hand�

succinct?... that might be wise, but I am not feeling succinct at the moment... I think I woke something up in me (and maybe lots of you too) and that sets me off the babble to find just what it is that woke up... feel free (seriously) to edit me if you think anything in my thoughts is word putting up in neon or quoting... really, seriously...

the following is coming from an email I wrote to reassure a dear new friend that I am not a monster... and in the real reality, my claims at who I am mean nothing for you will come to your own conclusion based on whatever you read, but I hope you read on and think about the message in the following more personal (and hopefully more real) layer of this me who lives behind the candoor:

I'm gonna rant a bit...

maybe this will turn into the next entry in which I respond to the confusion some are finding in five words out of thousands in the meme entry, we shall see... I value your opinion and hope to have your feedback J

hopefully you'll give me the benefit of the doubt as that is the only way trust can begin to be real and strangers can become friends... anything else is just entertainment or a waste of time (we're not wasting time, right? J )

I really should be sleeping, but my phone woke me up a few times today and I decided to finally listen to the messages (this is what I get for working nights and trying to interact with the rest of the world during the workweek... and why I sometimes don't upload entries Monday through Thursday J

I come here first (ok, second, I dropped a comment in smash's new soap opera first because he deserves it and it wasn't going to take as long as a response to an email J

I come here before responding to telephone messages and comments because I linked you in the meme entry and if you want me to unlink you I will - I care more about people than my online image or the irreverence I love so much - so seriously, if you want out of the entry just say so - no worries - no offense J

throughout the entry I was searching for new things to tell about me and new ways to say it... the introduction to the meme and the first #1 sets the tone and I thought, expressed me and my way with words as well as most anything I've written before...

word.

that entry, word., gave people reason to judge me as someone not worth their time (a few of those people were constant readers and one called me several times a week for hours at the time)... I thought it was one of the truest and clearest bits of babble about the reality of the online world and sharing on the internet I've written... they apparently read it as a rejection of their words and voices and friendships...

their dropping me like a hot potato immediately after I uploaded that entry, from my perspective, only went to prove the point I was trying to make in that entry... but I can not put my understanding of anything in anyone else's head... that is up to each individual reading and - we do see things not so much as they are, but as we are...

that's the introductory preramble... I seldom write a letter (or an entry, or anything, perhaps) without greasing up my literary brain and fingers with some rambling... now let's actually get to the source of all the rhubarb (and maybe the following should be an entry all it's own... I hope to hear what you really think):

for those of you who do not know, I currently work with the children of convicted pedophiles and have worked in various hospitals and facilities with the fringe of society throughout this life... along with the rage, the agony, the shame, the guilt, the torturous nightmares, the condemnation by society, the misunderstandings, the trauma, and the suicidal thoughts, humor is an essential aspect of the experience and most especially, of the cure... healing requires an unabashed exposure of the truth, of everything, and the strength and courage to forgive and laugh...

if I was an actual adult pedophile, this society would not be healing itself by killing me or by destroying me because that same hate is what condemns the children to trauma and leaves them ostracized by shame and guilt and ultimately, caught in a psychological loop of repeating the cycle... forgiveness, re-education, and rehabilitation is the only real cure for the sad confusion that leads an adult to find sexual attraction or physical comfort in children... though a large part of me feels castration is justified as well...

but what about the children?... love is what the abused children need most of all... understanding, forgiveness, acceptance, and healing... what they get is usually condemnation as powerful, if less obvious, as their victimizer...

think about that...

that's the serious side of the subject from my perspective... if I or anyone must state "I am not a pedophile" I am empowering the fear and perpetuating the cycle of abuse by pandering to those who judge without really seeking a solution... judgment seems to be more than enough for many in our society and that is a large part of the root of all of what is troubling our society... it is the equivalent of having to say "I am not a murderer" in a gun club or "I am not a ghoul" in a fan club for horror movies or "I am not a blasphemer" in church...

words mean nothing, what are we doing about it?...

do people who watch and enjoy violent TV, film, or video games (or actual violent activities, like all those who will proudly fight and die for their country and glorify the macho aggression and ultimate killing that the military and war and horror films are about) have to justify their passion for violence, killing, or bloody glory?...

pedophiles are as different, individually, as any other people... they generally share a few traits, an immaturity and fear of intimacy often stemming a deep rooted trauma of their own... most pedophiles were introduced to sex by pedophiles when they were young children, usually by their own supposedly unconditionally loving parents, and cultural taboos keep any sort of understanding or change in the cycle from happening because our culture does not get past condemnation and judgment...

to help the children, we need to get past the fear, past the condemnation and judgment, past the shame, guilt, and closed mind that perpetuates the cycle because it is these things even more than the sexual acts themselves that traumatize the children and create the future pedophile...

the trauma and abuse does not end when the touching stops, it begins in another horrible way...

the child is loved by the parent, but because the parent is afraid of mature equal-level intimacy, the parent seeks physical intimacy with the child... unbalanced, unfair, and not healthy, but too often in the twisted mind of the adult, it is what they were taught was love... the pedophile does not differentiate between bouncing a child on their knee or lap without sexual pleasure with bouncing that child and allowing their adult body to feel the contact... the abuse that follows usually comes from the other parent looking away and the involved parent failing to exercise limits and boundaries on their sexual urges...

if the child questions what is happening, or mentions it to someone else, too often the child is met with the condemnation, the pity, the horrible stares, the ostracism, the shame, the guilt, the judgment of society (but no real intervention) therein shutting the child down and further empowering the parent to continue because the child learns to shut up, to not tell, because in telling they are made to feel like they are horrible, evil, wicked or, even in the best situations, that something horrible happened to them...

the same cultural fear and ignorance happens in how too many people deal with rape... it is a physical act... we turn it into a psychological time bomb and permanent mental emotional trauma too easily by not dealing with it, by trying to bury it and make it go away, by blaming the victim and believing they are forever tainted, scarred, impure, not to be accepted in fine society... our culture loves the victim because it makes us all feel better to think we are not them...

it could never happen to me, we like to think, and yet available statistics say 1 out of 4 girls in our modern culture are sexually molested in their childhood and that is just what is reported... the taboo (not the act or feeling) can be even worse for boys, so even fewer boys would report it... scary yes, but deal with it...

we need to move beyond the labels... we need to find the courage, wisdom, and awareness to overcome the fear that creates, empowers, and fuels the abusers and the abuses... the secrecy and condemnation only facilitates more abuse... we need to face the fact that the repression of sexuality turns it into a weapon, a secret weapon, and it's the rare person who does not use it to their advantage on some level, however socially appropriate that level might be...

I do not condone, defend, or justify pedophilia, rape, or any harm imposed on anyone...

I do not condone, defend, justify, or accept the fear, repression, ignorance, prejudice, closed-minded judgments, dead-end condemnations, shame, guilt, or suicidal tendencies that creates, empowers, and perpetuates the harms people do to each other...

the first harm can be stopped by removing the child from the pedophile's grasp...

the second harm continues for a lifetime because we almost all do it no matter how well meaning or well intended we are... just think about your reaction to reading five words among thousands in a diary of more than a thousand pages... it is not often a kid can reach the level of healing that allows them to laugh at the phrase I was a child pedophile because there is so much going against the healing, but the few who do can accept what happened to them and the mixed feelings they have about sex and start to let go of the stigma because they can laugh at the confusion and fear and powerlessness behind it...

and that can break the cycle...

in my daily physical life I work to help people see past their fears and laugh at the trauma which is the ultimate healing (and I know as well as anyone how challenging and sometimes unsuccessful that process can be)... I work with kids who are institutionalized, torn from the warmth and comfort and only life they ever knew (and their fondest dream is that nothing is wrong with them or with their parents and their parents will come take them home and love them without hurting them)...

they are thrown in with other kids, strangers, all of whom have varying levels of trauma, some suicidal, some homicidal, all ready to teach each other how to act out in an institutionalized setting... all passing on the institutional tricks of the trade, how to get attention from staff by any means possible, how to get drugs from doctors by any means possible, how to avoid and disassociate from the nightmare by any means possible...

staff who, in some cases, hopefully have a high school diploma and make a little more than minimum wage and have no idea how to understand the rage the kid, the patient throws at them... staff who, due to lack of experience, training, and education, over-personalize the kid's rage and demand something be done with that patient...

the child was ripped from the womb, however cruel or abusive that womb, and thrown into a system that treats them as a commodity... they have a price tag on their heads... they fill a bed that brings money into the business that has lofty goals, but pays squat to uneducated staff who too often take out their own frustrations on the kids...

this is the mental health care system... this is supposed to be the cure for the abuse the kids have been through... the kids are labeled, catalogued, process, and stored in out of the way buildings with pretty sounding names and provided treatment because they are sick in the head... eight year old kids walking around so drugged they can pass for junkies on the street... because they are so angry and their rage must be controlled... eleven year old girls pinned to a mat by three adult men - to protect them from hurting themselves or someone else... because they are so angry and their rage must be controlled...

because there's not enough staff, because there's not enough money, because there's not enough real caring about these kids... sure, you are outraged at the word pedophile... at the concept... at the person who might be one... at the act it represents... you are ready to rip his nuts off... you are ready to vote the death penalty or at least castration... you are so damned angry you forget all about the kids...

the ones you label victim for the rest of their lives...

the stigma they carry is a psychological branding, a curse perpetuated by all of us... the treatment they receive is too often as abusive, albeit in different ways, as the original abuse... and it lasts a lifetime because we make it so...

I wish people would think about this when they see the word pedophile... the child who only wants the unconditional love from their parent that every child is supposed to have and curses the world for taking her or him away from home, for locking her or him up, for letting the abuse happen, and for continuing a different abuse under the guise of helping or saving her or him... and we tell ourselves... it is for their own good...

in my writing, I escape from the emotional work and let go of as much of the cultural mores and rules and dare myself to write whatever comes to mind, to free associate and explore the infinite possibilities and hopefully come up with some words that amuse and teach me something about myself and others and ultimately, have fun while offering some worthwhile ideas to the world... because I prove to myself every day that I can trust myself to deal with hate and anger and not deflect it, but digest it and hand it back as love... tangible honest love...

and sometimes I just write nonsense to completely clear my brain...

you, dear reader, get to decide which is which...

and I love you all.

. o O ( NOTES ARE THE NEW HAPPY PILL ) O o .
(just let me know you were here)