Meekly Howling at the Moon. And Beating my Chest Just a Little.

¹man·i·fes·to

 noun \ˌma-nə-ˈfes-(ˌ)tō\

: a written statement that describes the policies, goals, and opinions of a person or group

 

I do this every now and then. I like to clarify my policies, goals, and opinions. To myself. Sometimes these rants are motivated by anger, and I type it all out, post it, and then delete it. It's like I drain the poison on unsuspecting, good natured people. That's no way to live.

 

But I am manifesting today regardless. I am not mad. Not at all. Not even sad, which is delightful. I have not been sad now for quite a run, and I am not cocky about it. I am like the person at the zoo that found out the hard way NOT to tap on the glass at the reptile exhibit. I get it. I will observe the snakes in an orderly fashion or avoid the whole damn building.

 

So this is the deal. I have gifts. They are intellectual, emotional, and spiritual. We all have them, and feel free to elaborate on yours in the comment box. I would love to read about them. But mine are here, too. I say that because I am learning that I have been willing, my whole life, to diminish my gifts to receive love. Unfortunately my little plan NEVER works. It goes something like this: I find an impossible source of love. One that is doomed and flawed from the get go. Then I pour my heart out in an attempt to fix this situation. Nothing gets fixed, but I got to act out my tragic cycle. Yuk. So God (insert whatever entity you adhere to) allowed me to get my fill. I am talking Thanksgiving full. I have been in a scenario where I cannot disappear enough. There is no bottom, no point too low, the Who on Horten's clover. I have met my match. My martyr abilities (and I am good) have been sucked dry. And graciously, I concede. After all, a person's a person no matter how small. Thank God for Horten.

 

I am Karen Marie Louque Miller. I am smart, funny, highly observant, loving, empathetic, vulnerable, and intimate. I know things. I feel lies. I have my entire life. They, the lies, create an energy that even the best of liars cannot control. And I have seen some of the best. I rarely speak of this, because there is no need. It's no party trick. I am digressing....Anyway, I see things. I can communicate, and my heart is pretty good. I hate organized group exercise. I like sex. I am not only tired of becoming invisible to be loved (wtf?), but I am done with it. I am going to flourish. I will ask my questions about the past, the present, and the future. I expect to be treated with respect. I will respect myself. And in the end, if I am left being my own "girl", then so be it. I would rather walk through whatever is left of my allotted time being honest. I am honest. It physically hurts to be any other way.

 

Thank you, God, for making me drink way more than I could handle. You dared me to do one or two more shots of tequila. Everyone was watching, and You knew it would make me sick. I woke up not knowing where I was, and my pants were gone. Tequila. My hangover is still lingering, but that's probably good, too. Good luck to everybody in your journey toward wholeness, enlightenment, or just peace and contentment. I am like Rabbit when he tried to lose Tigger in the woods. I am humbled. Forever. God thinks I am worth this. And for the first time, I truly do, too.