And imagine me watching all y’all watch me just fucking blow up like a phenix and then rise form my ashes? Like wow. I must have really adapted to an acting out of character? Cuz wooooooe! Nelly. Y’all be tripping on me. Wow.
Living my life like a half written book where the main character that got me here is invisible but visible to me. Yeah. Let’s let that one sink on. Read it again. Yeah. Like Igor. Yes master. Yes master. Remember. I got two Mamas trying to tell me what to do and be thank you very much. Do you have two trying to upstage you and tell you your all wrong? No. Ya don’t. You got one unless your my sibling then, we get each other and I am not talking to at all now am I? But I’m talking for you even if I don’t know all the story. We all got our patterns.
Coming home meant now I must run two narratives for two woman now. Anyone even see that one? No. Ya didn’t did ya. Well. Look again.
Quite frankly I am sick and tired of playing all these roles. Like Taylor swift I would like to be excluded from you narrative a moment to speak on my own behalf. You want a nightmare. You got a nightmare. But I am not that nightmare. I am me watching y’all living in your nightmare thinking it me who is pointing at all the nightmares asking what’s up guys? yeah. I’m observing y’all’s reactions. About me.
It’s a mixed bag of family reactions to the change of one of their own and it’s flipped the table over without even touching a thing but my phone and computer and tapping words onto a screen that makes you all scream. Stop! It!! Yeah.
I screamed the same thing inside my head growing up. And you feel it now that I spoke up. Still connected. But removed. Still very much in tune with my original family dynamics. So much that my house looks very similar and had the same damn vibe as my Mamas, just less stuff. Her kitchen did kick my kitchens ass. But that’s ok. Mama got to have her own shine. Her cookbook library put all y’all a to shame. Fact.
And her sour dough pancakes are worth fighting the whole family for. Damn right I’m
Upset and hungry. Hangry for six long years. Trying to dial this in and catch my break. Pageant Mamas galore. Telling me how to dress and move and be. Can’t see me just their own mistakes. How frank must I be? Thirsty for tea and to see my Babies faith restored in her commanding officer when she’s succeeded at getting through to her own god damned Mama! Hello. Goodbye.
The fulfillment of my own dreams beyond my Mamas ideas of their day. More then a Mama? A worker. Way more. Be a Mama? Oh hell no. Will be both Mamas. Pay attention. I am the daughter of both and get it straight right now or nothing about me will ever make any sense. Two Mamas. If you got one be thankful. If you have two be graceful. Grateful. Adapt.