WE – DO NOT AGREE!

What the hell was that today?!

What the hell is wrong with you?!

How is it that I write the truth, I saw the truth, I SEE the truth and for this someone else GETS TO HAVE THE RIGHT TO PUNISH ME FOR IT BY KEEPING ME BROKE AND POOR, SICK AND TIRED, AND ENTIRELY ALONE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

When I was at The Container Store and a person started talking about being part Spanish, I quickly talked about how I knew DAVID WOLFE went to Pamplona to run with the bulls because I wanted it to be clearly KNOWN it was DAVID WOLFE and no one else – and I don’t have to explain that any further.

I want to move on.  I want to move on from constantly talking and writing about David Wolfe .  I am tired of having to KEEP THE STORY STRAIGHT.  It is so dumb!  It is so beyond idiotic all of this which is why I REFUSE TO DRIVE AROUND IN CIRCLES ANYMORE!  I HAVE DESPISED IT FOR YEARS NOW!

Of course, it is ONLY men I have ever wanted to sleep with, have a relationship with, or spend the rest of my life with – I was born that way.  I should not have to prove that to anybody.  I should not have to prove that anymore.  I forgive myself for Edison because I was tricked, manipulated, and deceived.  I was not the one wearing a skin-suit.  I was not wearing a mask.  I was nothing but honest.  However, it altered everything and everyone involved – it changed how I felt and feel for everyone.  And, you know what, you just imagine what it might be like for a woman to have all her reproductive organs removed, her intestines, her bowels moved and scraped, stitched from the inside and outside, and then feel the same when having sex.

David Wolfe, I wrote a note before I left to try to leave Florida and you behind once and for all.  In the note I wrote how I must have the Obama virus for which I will never be cured.  I had no idea who or what the Obama virus was or is about.  The reason I wrote it – I wanted it known I was and still am unwilling to give up, or let those moments I had with you in college become perverted or degrading in any way.  What I have learned in these last several years is that some people are incapable of understanding, or knowing in any way what you and I had feels like.  It is a terrible shame for every person deserves love.  Every person deserves to have a soft place to land, a person who is the center to their whole, a person for whom the whole world disappears.

Make no mistake David, I had moments with you, but we never really dated, you never kissed me, we were barely friends.  So, I held those moments separately from a romantic love.

I deserve to have a man want me enough to keep me for the rest of his life, and I in turn want him to keep me for the rest of my life.  Love is never and can never be one-sided.  It never works if it only comes from one person.

I do not love you David.  I am not in love with you David.  I feel nothing for you anymore.

Skin should be soft.  A woman’s skin should be soft.  I am a woman.  I have never wanted to be a man in any way.  My skin should be soft.  Feet, armpits, crotch, and others should stay dry.

It is not a good sign when I cannot and do not open my blinds.  It is not an all clear sign.

Virginia, I have much admiration and respect for the persons I have seen.  He is special – that is how I saw him.  I don’t have any other understanding or comprehension beyond that, but he did stand out as special.  Higher Power – is very  interesting and there is much others learn from him.  Others want to call him Fatboy,  however that is not what I saw first.  The body sometimes is more of a condition rather than a container or vessel for the soul and mind.  I could list other Virginian’s but I have to go make money.  I do not deserve to live a life in isolation entirely alone without any friends or people, which is why I do not choose Virginia.

Method is for acting.  I am not acting, nor am I an actor.  What I have learned –  with the exception of feet-stomping, “my woman” (I want it understood this is in no way sexual or anything otherwise other than a term of endearment – “my woman” – Denzel Wasington) because even when they make me sick, have taken my sight from me, conspire to kill me in small and measured doses, stripped me of dignity, vanity, cleanliness, love, family, animals, and friendship I still have chosen his talent, ability, and that undefinable thing that can only be felt – is that actors are liars which is why I am not an actor.  Again, in case you did not read or hear it the first time, method is for acting and it has no place in a business.

However, from now on I will ONLY CHOOSE me.  I am number 1.  I choose me!

Now, I have no problem, or nervousness of any kind when talking to celebrities or rich and powerful persons I have been doing it long before 2012 and The Container Store.  I can’t even list all the people I spoke with while working at Disney, David Wolfe, James Franco, Kristin Wiig, and so on.  I have no problem because I always saw myself as an equal, as a peer, as someone who belonged there and had a place beyond my circumstance.  Since, then things have changed for me and I wish to never be a apart of that world – ever again!

Let it be said, I was the one who painted Mt. Hood, I was the one who sketched a dog in middle school, I was the one who sketched the eagle while listening to Bill Gothard speak at Basic Youth Institute.

I would love to go to the movies every week, but I cannot afford the time away from resting.  No one seems to understand how mind tired I am.

What was the point of all this?  I will never speak positively about this experience EVER!

Your rules no longer apply to me as I see and understand them, since you do not even adhere to your own set of rules.  Regardless of what I do, you disobey own code of conduct.

I purchased ear plugs to protect my hearing, I am not throwing away that money just to prove another point!

Here is my crime for which I have been punished into exile and isolation for years now – I wanted to feel sexually wanted by a man, I wanted to be loved by a man, and I wanted be in love with that man until the day I died.

I no longer cry for you of my own free will David Wolfe.  I have God moments where God whispered your name to me and others that I do not have time or the money to share right now.  But, all I wanted was to be able to tell you how much you meant to me in college that all the yelling and screaming did not stop be from wanted to be near you.  Because when you laughed at my blow job joke in reference to size does matter because my jaw does not come un-hinged – I saw something so beautiful in you I have never forgotten it.

I looked David up on the internet to find out who he was, his life, and his love.  I did it in part because I was so outside of the world I had no idea how Facebook, messaging or any of that worked or looked.  I did it in part because when I did enter the world again I did not want to be surprised by technology.  I wanted to be informed and not stupid.  I did not see any harm in looking about David or his family, or any of my former classmates or friends I had before.  It was on the internet for anyone to see, and my heart and intent NEVER came from harm.  Which is why when it appeared I was causing a problem between David and his girlfriend – I unfriended him.  At the expense of my own heart break it is better for us to not be friends if it causes him a loss in love in any way – that is how I felt at the time.  However, I wish never looked David up.

I don’t know how James Franco got to re-invent the meaning of a beard which as I always understood it to be before was a cover, or a person being used as a front for a relationship.

I HAVE NOT NOW NOR EVER WANTED OR NEEDED ANY PERSON TO PRETEND ANY RELATIONSHIP.

I wanted to feel sexually desirable after caring for my mother which kept me out of a life for years, after losing so much weight I lost another person, after having surgery it disfigured by body and distorted my body image.

So warped is and was my body image I used to look at bodies and wonder if that is what I looked like.  I used to watch myself walking by because I could not believe what I was seeing.  I could not reconcile my fat body with my new body.  I still have BIG problems with my weight.

David if you wanted to date me, you would not have dressed up as red-headed Tom who worked at Mac Dill Air Force.  After that date I said we were more like brother and sister.  If you wanted to talk to me you would have called out my name or something to make me stop as I walked by you at the AMC.  I walked past your brother too because you very clearly closed the door by calling me delusional.

I will no longer alter or change my driving route.

I once wrote sun on my shoulders makes me happy, but I cannot live with someone else’s pressure of any kind.  I am very capable of pushing myself, taking charge of myself or I never would have lost weight to begin with.

I will no longer believe in “rules’ that only apply to Cherith and no one else.

James Franco if you wanted to date me or know me, you would have done so in person.  If either you or David wanted to know me you would have done so in person.  End of discussion.

Perhaps no one can understand what passed between David and I in college.  I used to believe it would never go away or fade into the ether, but it has become lost to me.

All I wanted was a real man who was born a man has always been a man who loves women who love men who would love me and I could love in return for the rest of my life.  I have been writing and saying this since 2012.

Oh yeah, I am sick and tired of not being able to eat anything at all when working because my food is altered and tampered with forcing me into fasting in order to keep my weight down.

Guess what?  I am the person behind MY smile!

Since when did James Franco get to reinvent the meaning of a “beard?”

No one is allowed entry into my home at any time!!!!

Sitting here hot as hell worried about money, food, finances, employment, my ability to stay alive!

Why is that in Sims 4 every male avatar looks like a young David Wolfe? Who I never want to see or know of again!

Swirling, swirling, spinning, spinning faster and faster!  Have you ever had things go so fast that you are unable to recognize any details at all?  Having to go so fast that the entire world becomes nothing, you see nothing, and you understand nothing!

So, I painted a picture when I was in grade school of Mt. Hood that was chosen from all my other classmates it was framed and hung in the local frame shop.  There is more to this story, but I don’t have time to tell it or anything else anymore.

How did this get to be my whole life?!

I could have had a real job by now and made real money by now.  I wouldn’t have to be going through a bankruptcy because I would have had a job that paid me a salary I could live off of.  This bankruptcy is the most expensive thing I have ever had to do in my life!

People need to listen to me.

If my brother had listened to me he would still be living in San Diego, Ca.  He would still be employed By San Diego University.  His excuse was he wanted to write more instead of teach.  It turns out he prefers to teach.  He is a good teacher.  His students like him.  They ask him for help.  They involve him in their learning.  I’ve seen it.  Do you know how hard that is to find a teacher who likes to teach?!  It seems a obvious thing, but a lot of teachers are not teacher because they enjoy it.  It is a talent to be a teacher.  It is a tremendous thing for a teacher who has the capacity to teach.  I don’t have time to go into this more.  However, had my brother listened to me he would still be teaching, have real estate, and be in a better position financially.  He is a good teacher.

I want a private brain again.  I don’t know how to create, or write with an audience in my head, with the appliances talking and making a racket.

How did this happen to me?!

I am so depressed, unhappy, and sad all the time – this is not who I am or used to be this is what has HAPPENED to me.

Another year, another Christmas all alone without a single person to be my friend, without a boyfriend or a husband – this is not who I am!  Let alone I am unable to put up a Christmas tree #1 because I cannot afford it, and #2 the lights I have someone has replaced and put cameras in them, so I cannot even decorate in my own home.

Why is it everytime I go to work and return home someone I did not create ends up in my Sims game?!

So depressed!

As if it were iron

It stopped me

Inhaled all

And sought me

Born to a machine

It lives

With arms outward

Screaming

Grasping

Choking

Blink

Blink

Breathe, breathe, breathe

Original write date: 5/23/1996

I visited Dachau, Germany November 1988.  It was an experience I will never forget.  Driving into Dachau, the overcast sky seemed to have fallen hanging closer to our heads.  The townspeople walked with the burden of living like a coat too heavy to wear.  We had no idea how to get to the Dachau site.  My mom parked on the street asked me to get out and ask for directions.  As I approached what looked like a toll booth plaza, I didn’t even have to say anything as I was handed directions printed in many different languages courtesy of the local police department on John F. Kennedy Plaza.  I had to travel from America to wind up in Germany at a police station named after an American President.

It was an election year, and I was not yet old enough to vote.  I remember another mother and daughter on the plane with us, the daughter had a Mondale pin on her coat.  How exact opposites we were because if I could have voted I would have voted for Bush.

By the time we got to Dachau we had been in Germany for several days.  As we parked and got out at the site, the very air was different.  The pain of thousands still hung in the air with crushing pressure making it difficult to breathe.

I was teenaged blasé about the importance of the events that took place there.  We started to walk the grounds before going to the museum.  To my great shame, I recall walking by the barracks where they slept at the concentration camp thinking, it’s not so bad.

God heard me.

We came to a turn in the path, and as I turned, I saw the crematorium.  It was as if God thumped me in the head for I could not walk any further.  I was struck at the site.  A blink, and a million images flooded into my head of the torture, of the panic, of the cruelty, of the dead, of the never-ending screams.  I could see and hear.  Unending sympathy, empathy, a never-ending connection to the Jewish people instantly replaced the teenaged blasé boredom.  I was forever changed by that moment.  I couldn’t continue any further.  I couldn’t walk to the crematorium.

I had been so struck.

My mother and I went through the museum, we ate dinner, we found a hotel for the night.  Then, after having a shower and getting into my pajamas did I feel myself come out from the shock of witnessing the crematorium.

It was such an experience and I had so many other life changing experiences afterward it took me many years later to put it into words.

Yeah, God heard me.  He let me see the truth.  He let me feel it.

Years later when I auditioned for The Diary of Anne Frank and didn’t make it.  I asked to help behind the scenes.  I got to do the costumes, and something else I can’t remember.  The memory was still very present in my mind, so I organized a field trip for the actors to go to the Florida Holocaust museum, which is where I bought Sophie’s Choice.  I wanted to impart some of the importance that I witnessed and experienced to the actors, so they could use it, if nothing else, in their performance.

Upon leaving the museum, the actress who played Anne’s mother said to me, “Well, it was interesting, but I didn’t get much from it.”  You could have bowled me over with a feather (it’s an expression).  I was so stunned, here is a woman older than myself who was also a mother, but could not find anything from the museum to take with her.  I still don’t know how to understand that, other than not everyone is emotionally able to receive at each moment.  Some people go their whole lives, and are not emotionally available to receive.

Yeah, God struck me.  He let me know.  I am ashamed of my callousness still.  Because the truth is I am not an uncaring or calloused person.  It’s one of those hard-wired things you’re born with that do not change.  God made me that.  I guess the betrayal was painful to God, so He told me so.  As it turns out, the betrayal was painful to me as well.  To knowingly go against your own nature is a pain that cannot be described.

 

Sitting in traffic Dr. Dre pulls up alongside of me.  I hear a voice in my head saying you are in the presence of greatness.  Without missing a beat I respond, yeah, but does he know my name?

How did I get here?  I saw a video of James Franco talking about men are beards and women are moustache’s now my entire world is having to drive on Painted Turtle proving that I only want men.  I don’t ever get to move on from this?

I am too tired to finish this.  Of course, it can only be men for me!  Why do I have to do this over and over, year after year?!

Why can’t they just shave it off?  Does it make a man less of a man without any facial hair?!  Not to mention this men vs. women is not the definition of a beard as I ever understood it before.

I don’t know what’s wrong with this word press and why it doesn’t work with Norton.

At the cash register of European Gourmet as I was about to leave in walks a man wearing dreads, painted black handing the person behind the counter free samples of energy drinks – it was Eminem.

I originally wrote this story back in July/August 2014 which is now lost.  I did not have a hard copy of it.  I am not happy with this version.  To me it is not enough.  To me it is me trying to write as fast as possible getting as many stories out as possible.  But, I know this story is more powerful than what I’ve written…so far… 

On an airplane, going on vacation with my family to Florida.  Headphones on listening away, changing channels as each time I got bored.  Wearing my hand-made knitted sweater my mother made in that fantastic 80’s shade of pearl grey.  I was in my own little world believing I was a grown-up.

When, I am suddenly surprised by some else’s drink landing in my lap.  The stewardess quickly apologizes for her blunder and telling me the airline will pay for the dry-cleaning.  Over and over, I’m sorry, they’ll pay for the dry-cleaning.  Here I am with Coca-Cola and ice from my mid-section to my lap, I look up from my all-knowing-adults-don’t have-a-clue eyelids and slight disgust to say, uh-okay.  But, I want to say lady, I’m only thirteen years old.

We arrive in Florida to be greeted by Hurricane Elena.  Departing the airplane, I quickly became acquainted with the wet air of humidity.  My mother had our route all planned in advance, however to stay ahead of the storm we had to change our plans.

Instead of having hotel reservations waiting for us, we ended up at dive motels along the road.  Our trip to Walt Disney World was cut short as the park closed due to weather.  It was hard to stay out of the rain.  Everywhere we went it was raining, so it was just like being back in Oregon except it was hotter and more humid.  The only consolation on the trip was Bill Cosby.

It started on the airplane Bill Cosby: Himself was playing on the airplane, it was on the radio, and it was on television in the hotel rooms.  We listened to it over and over again.  It seemed we all agreed on it.  After another long day of rain, and sunshine, and August Florida humidity, and the joys of family vacations we ended up at a small motel along the highway watching Bill Cosby: Himself, again.

We were all tired and exhausted, yet laughing here and there.  Something happened that night.  While I was laughing – the whole world suddenly stopped.  A moment frozen in time with my mother, father, and brother in mid-laughter.  A multitude of images swirled in my head as I saw the neon glow of Motel reflected in the pool’s water outside, the leaves along the edges and bottom of the pool, the chair and table my brother was sitting at, the dubious cleanliness of the shag carpeting, where the car was parked outside our hotel door, the color of the night sky, the glow from the streetlights along the road, but what I really and truly saw was my mother, father, and brother for the first time.  Not as a parent or a sibling, I saw them as their most beautiful selves.

Because something happens when you laugh.  It is the greatest opening to a person’s soul while laughing.  It was the first time my family became real to me.  Not that they weren’t real before, it was the first time I got to see them as something more.

It is a moment I know with certainty existed.  It is a moment that happened.  It is a moment I have shared every chance I get because in that moment I was hooked, I was addicted.  If it was possible to see my own family differently than the same must be true for everyone else.  Every chance I could I would try to make other’s laugh.  Oh, but not just laugh or giggle it’s that breaking down of walls and barriers laughter that sheds a person exterior to reveal the real beautiful within.  I have loved it my whole life.  The sight of someone’s true self reveled through laughter.  There is nothing else that can compare to it.

I will be forever grateful to Bill Cosby for that moment he gave me while being himself.

Sitting outside reading a book on my lunch break David Wolfe as Alfredo Cruz asked me if he could get me a chair.  He said he hoped it would rain, so he didn’t have to mow the lawn.

Not all people who have children are cut out to be parents.  They can be useful or successful in other areas of their lives, yet still be terrible parents.  So, the other parent has to take up the slack.  My father was not cut out to be a parent.  I don’t have time to go into much further today.  The previous post I posted today took me over four hours to write, and it was not the only thing I had to do today.

My mind is spent.  My body is tired.  I am beyond weary.  Oh, yeah…I am broke as hell.  I want this to end.  I want my life back.

My mother went to her parent after the wedding night, they told her to get the marriage annulled.  He dragged her down the hallway by her hair.  I hate having to share this in this way.  I would have waited, I would have used it in a different writing.  You would have had to live with my father to understand.  He is a hoarder.  It was a terrible mess going through and getting rid of boxes and boxes of paperwork when we sold the home.  I am not taking my mother’s word for it alone I don’t have time to go into all the bad times with my father.  He used to hit my brother in the ear.

I guess my vagina/crotch is never going to feel clean again.  I guess my “lips” are constantly going to feel violated.  No wonder I would rather die.