Tao of Taos

Resisting is Futile and painful as a fucker

*Disclaimer: The individual who I am talking about is NOT to be vilified, or is to be talked shit about. If anything, I am the one who is to be vilified. This is not some type of self deprecation, or me being some sort of martyr. I fucked up. I own my role is this. I own my fear. I own me not trusting, not only myself or the individual. I thank him. I thank the time I had with him. I thank the pain. Without any of this, I wouldn’t have seen.*

tune in, tune out, snuff out

Rage crying from Dallas, Texas to Taos, NM is not recommended.

Blurry eyes at 80 miles an hour on I-40 can lead to a potential

disaster(glad that I averted this disaster)….here comes the pain

Rage crying is the first stage recognizing scorching pain I do not

recognize.

What the fuck is going on?

Why am I feeling? FEELING?

Just do what I always do…ignore

……disassociate

…disconnect

.disappear

Not

this

time

Amarillo Texas..first time..storms coming

I do not remember much from Dallas to Amarillo. I am pretty sure I took the long way

around.

A direct shot is not was needed. I needed wheels on pavement and distance

Moody doesn’t even cover the first leg of a journey I did not want, but

was revealed to me. The entire way from Dallas to Taos was whispering, because

that is all I could do, screaming, and softly saying why?

Two days in Amarillo. I was convinced someone was murdered in my hotel room

I stayed to long in Amarillo, but I needed to stay artificially connected.

Free Wi-fi

At the time I did not have a cell phone(sounds so adult and responsible…its a burner phone folks).

the only way I communicated was on my iPad.

out here in the Substackian world

Wi-fi babies

I was not artificially connected to whom I needed

to be artificially connected

As long as I had Wi-fi I would remain connected

I couldn’t sever

How?

When the connection is deeper than any

impliment, physical or mental could sever

I just wanted this pain.

This odd strange pain

Cut out of me

A dedication to someone they love

Carson National Forest scenic rest stop.

Eat

Be in Love

And be happy

A lament to a loved soul

Gone too soon

My gateway drug

Could this numb this pain? Make me forget?

if you refuse to see the signs placed before you Bertie

your eyes will be forced open

and

will

stay

open

you will scream Bertie

your tears will dehydrate

the atoms of your anatomy

you will scream Bertie

you will suppress what is about to hit

build a shelter

protect?

hear the wolves?

little girl….little girl

let me in for your straw house ain’t shit

Each mile placed between Dallas and me

was the straw house being annihilated

Taos. First night. South end. Those mountains is where my pain met me

House made of sticks

I always wanted to upgrade. Hell I didn’t have a home anymore

I had nothing. How many times did I need to turn everything to glass

before

before

fuck me

Two nights at a Motel 8 in Taos to get my mind to do something

other than need to keep this artificial connection.

I didn’t want to stay away. I didn’t want to go away

I

didn’t

Want

……this

I knew I needed to cut this line

I

needed

to fall on the cold concrete

Feel every sliver of glass penetrate my bones

my hand

met his

we

did this

we cut this line

….together

oh my fucking gods what have I done?!!!!

little girl……

….little girl

you know I do not need your permission

house of sticks

falls

sacred place where a foundation started

I have never minded the taste of my own iron and copper.

I have licked my wounds before, and will again. This time

is different. My blood tastes different…thicker,

darker

tastes of memories

pain surfacing

I will make you taste

puke

taste again

Both hands upon the knife

but only one pushed

and the other has been ripped open

thank you

I can either stay with my bleeding guts dripping onto the Carson National Forest floor

or I can take myself to the river

What am I going to choose? For this choice is mine.

I filled a journal with thoughts that were burned and sacrificed to the aether

I made a mistake, in staying in contact with Substack

one day you will learn Bertie…that day is approaching

He is not a cruel man.

Only his words

his words(cut bone marrow deep)

but I needed to be cut this deep to understand

understand(time heals..just give it time..you didn’t give yourself time or him time)

This was my first week in Carson. The second week of June.

My second week in Carson turned out to be different. The third week of June

This is what I wanted. Each day spending the time I needed to be better than yesterday

I was not spending much time out on Substack. Much of my writing was chaotic.

Flash poetry. Random personal essays. Nothing hinged, or steady. My marrow was screaming out. I was not going to be hinged, or steady.

This

is

what

I

had to do

both of our hands on the knife

one pushed

the other lied bleeding

I am a selfish

awful

being for feeling the way I do

I am not facing my mortality and I have no right to be a fucking

ungrateful

cunt

so why does this hurt so much?

Bertie, darling.

You weren’t opening up(I didn’t want to trauma dump)

You weren’t honest(I didn’t want to burden him, and fuck I am sorry…too late)

You were impatient(moved way to fast, and I know I can be too much)

You gave off the vibe you wanted way too much from him that he was not

able to give(all I wanted was to know who this beautiful creature was)

You are too impulsive, and while you think that is okay Bertie, others do not and it is very put offish(I didn’t want to live with him…just be close…just be there…just be)

Talking is hard, and I know I suck a big bag of dicks when it comes to communicating in a healthy manner.

I get frustrated when I am interrupted and I just shut down(are you okay baby…yeah I am fine, when internally I am screaming like two trash pandas fucking, because I feel, maybe incorrectly, I am not being heard, or listen too)

I created false narratives. This does not help me, nor the person I am trying to establish a relationship with(I am my weakness)

Second week in Carson. Third week of June

Bloodletting is not for the faint of heart. This is something I needed to do, and I found out just how sharp my Swiss Army knife was

While licking the wound from the severing of an infant tie…I needed to, not metaphorically bleed. I needed to leave blood upon the bosom of the forest

This scar is one I look upon as not just a physical healing but a long time coming mental healing.

thank you

Third week, and last week in Carson. Fourth week of June

I made a promise, and come hell or high water I will keep my promises

I do not make a promise if I do not intend on keeping it(there may be a few who will disagree with me, but that is very private and personal…please keep it that way)

I left Taos on the third of July a very different woman, but still guarded.

Still wounded

I was not going to lie to myself that in one month…I was gonna be alright

I needed to fulfill my promise by going back to Texas where the tie was severed

where I might find reconciliation?

redemption?

answers?

just remember do not let your emotions show Bertie

he deserves much better than you

you are bad news Bertie

horrible influence…

you are not good for him

he does not need you and your fucked upness

how dare you?

you really don’t know what the fuck you were thinking

now

do

you?

Fuck you Borderline Personality Disorder. Seriously.

Eat my fuck. Instead, I was the one eating that fuck

no pictures of Texas the second time around…so ya’ll get this

Just leave the bag at the door Bertie. DO NOT ENTER.

This is what I was thinking sitting, in my car

DO NOT ENTER. It does not matter if he wants to see you, and good gods fucking almighty do you want to see him. Every fiber in your evicerated body is screaming you want to see him…for this may be the last time. Is that what it was? Two words. Last time

I knocked on the door

I stayed from Sunday to Thursday

My mind was a vortex of confusion I could not understand let alone form into words that would form some sort of explanation of what I was thinking, or even feeling

I was just going with the flow, until I built a dam

That dam was built on my misunderstandings, and instead of talking…I shut down

Everything I worked on in Carson wasn’t there. Everything I learned, I refused to lean on. In this moment is where everything I learned about myself was needed, and I fucking shut down because of fear. Fear just wasn’t the mind killer. It was the death of something good. Fuck.

I became an impetusous child. I locked myself away, even when shown concern.

I

shut

it

the

fuck

down

Let me make this clear….this had nothing to do with what is going on with him. Wow. Talk about diminishing what he is going through. Even out here in Substack land…typing words on a screen cannot convey what I really mean with the statement above. Shit. I am going to attempt to clarify. Be forewarned….I may get wordy

I did not run away from him because he is facing his mortality. I can deal with physical death. I shut down

I ran away

Because I refused to let him in. Not the other way around. Fucked up? Very.

There is nothing compassionate about refusing to allow someone in, when they need that the most.

I walked out without saying goodbye. I was not saving myself. I was being a fucking twat.

I made accusations that were so far off the mark…these accusations were in another galaxy. I was the one who turned cold, and turned away

I was going to make sure the tie was never going to be able to be reunited again

He deserves better

He never deserved to be treated in the manner I treated him

I didn’t listen the first time.

Now I am

I want nothing but the best for him. I want him to fly the middle finger, and live.

I want him to fly the middle finger at me, and tell me to go fuck myself

I want all of his goals to become a reality

Most of all..,. I will say this again

I

Want

Him

To

Live

where the fires of my ancestors burn

January 2nd 2026

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