Drake Phoenix – 4-2-11 – “get it right”

This is Drake. At the risk of being accused of sounding like a girl, Amy was watching Glee in the middle of the night, and a song on it hit some of us to our core. i was one. so though this speaks for many here, it also speaks for me. so much that i’m fixing to post something for the first time in i think about a year and half? i’m gonna post a glee – yes glee – vid. go ahead and laugh. i dont care anymore. but i bet there will be more who relate to this song than there will be who laugh that i, the desimated prince, posted it.

but i feel like i have to. this is one of those times i feel compelled, like i have no choice, like i must, i must, try one more time. so try i will, one more time. and i guess we’ll see if Drake actually writing something blows up the site like it has in the past. i hope it doesn’t. i hope people have moved on. i even hope they’re happy. i mean that. i’m being serious. because i’m not going for that. i’m trying one more time to figure out “what do you do when your good isnt good enough”? and how do you fix it?

i dont want to die a failure and unforgiven. but who does? so again here i try. is this my swan song for certain since we are literally at the end of our road? i dont know. maybe i’ll have one more burst of energy and write some more. or maybe my writing again will make others here decide they have at least one more thing/s to say too. all i know is that i’m trying.

anyway. my apologies but one big reason we dont write for a long time now is that our illness is too firmly in our brain. we cant stay on topic, and even i dont write the same way i used to, nor can i spell or punctuate much anymore. my profound philosophical introspectic days are fading memories – like all our other memories. and soon, when the good Lord says, we will be nothing but memories. but i’m doing this right here because, even though somebody else was going to post it, i feel like i should, like its my place to. i dont even know if that made any sense.

anyway overall here, those of us left finishing out this “show” (life for singletons), we face our mortality with not one single one of us who has dealt with people – family, friends – feeling like our good was ever good enough. in particular, sharon and i are haunted by it. she as the surviving mom, the one left, the one not wanted that they got stuck with. and me because i know that my stupid boyish (oh God somebody cut me a break at least a little because i am just 16 and i didn’t come to the front until some time after the near-death year of ’98, and we were already almost completely isolated and housebound. so i’ve had virtually no experience with World people outside this family (the few who will acknowledge me) and other mults (or they said they were). i’m not making excuses for myself. i’m just saying i really have, for most of these years i’ve been at the front, i really have always done my best and tried to be good enough and tried to take care of this system, my loved ones, our loved ones.

i think i came front about 2000? its hard, no impossible to remember, as our memory fades, as we fade. and i’m not proud of myself those first oh however long that was before i started realizing i was doing damage and started desperately stupidly trying to fix the unfixable.

i did come to the front with my own agenda – a desperation for just droplets of a life. just a little piece of one. didn’t i, as a human, deserve it? i AM a human being too! didn’t i deserve even just a little bit of this life? i believed i did.

and i became a part of chosen families because our own rejected me since i’m a male. and i loved and i tried to carve out a niche – even just a small one. even just droplets.

i wrote about that once somewhere. i think too long ago to be on this journal. maybe somebody will be able to pull enough brain cells together to go into my writings and reprint it. but there will be those who will remember that about me – that i just so desperately wanted, would settle for even, just droplets of this life i must share.

then things started going wrong, and i found that i, the one who could ‘fix’ anything, the strategist, the negotiator, a high power of this place… i couldn’t fix anything out here in The World. nothing. i completely failed.

and the more i changed as a person, the more i started seeing that hey ok yeah i’m a 16 year old guy stuck in a dying older female’s body, who has a spouse and children and grandchildren. and the closer i became to God (maybe a freaky/odd thing about our system is that we were so high-functioning that, knock on wood, so far we’ve never had anyone front who didn’t have strong Christian beliefs, and who didnt try to make the family happy. and we’ve all loved those GCs with all our hearts. and we’ve all tried to be “good enough” for loved ones and for God, even my system.

isnt it ironic that my ragtag group of rebels, the renegades, made up of people from the two dark systems who not one of us was ever dark enough for the darks or good enough for the lights? isnt ironic that its us, almost totally us (nominally including sharon and lisa because they are my sisters, drew because he is my brother, and amy because she is my daughter)? but its our system, and a few closely related to me, finishing this show out – the left-standing ones? why us?

i’ve pondered so much on what made us stronger? what was it about us, my people, the renegades – never good enough nor bad enough for anyone – that made us be the strongest in the end?

as for me, oh i could just walk off. i could go to the place we call the badlands, and i’ve known other systems seem to call the same or similar place other things. and i have tried a few times. every time, i’ve had no choice but to take one of my youngest daughters, and, to our knowledge, our last split, several years ago – DJ, destiny.

anyway i’ve had no choice but to take DJ with me because she literally goes uncontrollably wild without me. i guess a combination of fucked up parts she got from me, and from her mother (who eventually denied/disowned her), made her one little fucked up super power mess that daddy has to have with me at all times or she wrecks havoc.

once or maybe twice, i’ve tried to go and take my children, leaving of course amy because hell it took her years just to stop calling me her “internal paternal figure”. her place isnt with me. never was. her place isnt even really here at the front in this gawd forever dying time. she was with the most highs too long. she is more them than anything else. and sharon. she and my sister are too much alike, too closely tied. and i never tried to take my oldest son, who’s never fronted but says his place is here. ok. i was making decisions by his age, and we are talking internal, and we are talking mult, so i let him choose. but i did try to just take the rest of them and see if i could stay away from here, this place, this front of this dying body – and maybe, if i could, they might be able to pull themselves together, rally, one more time against all odds (we were first diagnosed terminal over 20 years ago).

i did it with the convicition/belief that maybe maybe if i could stay away, maybe this system would be able to right/fix itself eventually one more time. damn but if G didnt go and shock the shit out of everyone a few years ago when suddenly boom there she is taking over and running the whole freakng show! and kicking ass and taking names, getting people away from us so we might have a chance to rally one more time (our weight for instance hit 86 months after we were put on long-term end-stage care – before the court battle cause sharon dug her heels in and said she wasnt doing that hysterectomy for recurrent cancer with the chaos going on online and threats and shit. Enter Gypsy out of nowhere.

could’ve knocked even me over with a feather. and we’ve been together – me, her, cody – our entire lives. forever. we’ve been together. i didnt know G had that shit, that power, those powers i guess would be more accurate, in her. but man when she took over, she got it done. and to this day, its mostly G and Cody and amy who run the show. i dont even claim to be anything anymore but me. they’re the power triumvirate in our death time.

our system has always since the beginning of time for us run on the power of threes. i do not know why. i might have known at some point. but if i did, i’ve forgotten. if i ever knew, i probably wrote about it in the voluminous writings i did trying to figure things out, piece it all together. i failed.

so it was me, yeah i admit mostly me, who threw us in to these last few years in this death time. i swear to God it was accidentally. but i was, as amy says, more than stupid, i was stoopid, because even though i could see i coudln’t fix anything, i couldn’t quit. i could not stop trying. i could not process, believe, that there wasn’t some way – i just hadn’t hit upon it, found it yet – i couldn’t believe there wasnt some way i could fix the death sentence my stupid loyalty and idiotic boyish belief that i “deserved” a piece of a life was wrong and i had realized it, now let me fix it. i couldnt believe i couldnt fix it. well surprise

but man, when you’ve been shoved over a cliff dude, you’ve been shoved over a cliff. and i got us shoved over a cliff. its my fault.

oh we’ve been told by medical people no it is NOT my fault, that we were a powder keg waiting to happen, that something was probably soon gonna shove us over the cliff into the dying zone – if for no other reason than that massive tumor that was finally removed after several months of an open gut wound when drew fell out of a chair in the middle of the night with us alone trying to calm down some girl having a psycho fit and calling dozens of times. if my memory’s correct, i think there were dozens just on the cell phone record.

anyway that’s random. sorry its in our brain big time now. point is, he fell out of a chair, hit just right, and immediately busted open the outter capsule encapsulating a tumor. hence open nonhealing abdominal wound for i think about four months, several surgeries – finally the sucessful one which removed a huge encapsulated soft tissue tumor filled will suture material from the ruptured feeding tube in our intestines those years ago in the ’98 dying time when we didnt die but they swore our stomach was dead.

the thing is we were told, that tumor was pushing on our intestinal wall and about to breach it. that would have meant immediate overwhelming sepsis from bowel contents spewing through the breech into our abdominal cavity – and we would have surely died. so, in a way, she who swore to see us dead, who shoved us over the cliff, who i’m sure has laughed a lot that we’re dying – in a way, she saved us, gave us several more years. so thank you for being a mega evil bitch controlling your little group of demonettes.

ok that was kinda funny. you have to admit that was funny. seriously though, she threw us into the death spiral, but she saved us the probably imminent/not long certain death that was building in our gut and about to blow open our intestinal wall. so. and because we have gotten these years, we’ve gotten many blessings. and i hope we’ve given a few. i know kids and dogs still adore me.

but back to the point of all this, of why i would speak after so long – amy watching glee and some song slapped most of us still standing upside the head with its profound connection to putting how we collectively feel into words/song…

“what can you do when your good isnt good enough

and all that you touch tumbles down?

cause my best intentions keep making a mess of things.

i just want to fix it somehow.” “Get it right” from Glee 2011

here’s the vid. and below it the lyrics. now i’m done.

Drake Aaron Phoenix, a 16 year old insider of the multiple system known as TC, The Collective

 

 





wouldn’t you know it – it only let me post it on facebook. oh well here’s the youtube link. i think…

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=g5J5U2CXJ3o

Lyrics to Get It Right :

What have I done?

I wish I could run,

away from this ship going under

just trying to help out everyone else

now I feel the weight of the world is on my shoulders

what can you do when your good isn’t good enough

and all that you touch tumbles down?

cause my best intentions

keep making a mess of things,

I just wanna fix it somehow

but how many times will it take?

oh, how many times will it take for me to get it right, to get it right?

can I start again, with my fate again?

cause I can’t go back and endure this

I just have to stay and face mistakes,

but if I get stronger and wiser, I’ll get through this

what can you do when you’re good isn’t good enough?

and all that you touch tumbles down?

cause my best intentions keep making a mess of things,

I just wanna fix it somehow

but how many times will it take?

oh, how many times will it take for me to get it right?

so I throw up my fists, throw a punch in the air,

and accept the truth that sometimes life isn’t fair!

yeah, I’ll send down a wish and I’ll send up a prayer

and finally someone will see how much I care

what can you do when you’re good isn’t good enough?

and all that you touch tumbles down?

cause my best intentions keep making a mess of things,

I just wanna fix it somehow

but how many times will it take?

oh, how many times will it take for me to get it right?

What have I done?

I wish I could run,

away from this ship going under

just trying to help out everyone else

now I feel the weight of the world is on my shoulders

what can you do when your good isn’t good enough

and all that you touch tumbles down?

cause my best intentions

keep making a mess of things,

I just wanna fix it somehow

but how many times will it take?

oh, how many times will it take for me to get it right, to get it right?

can I start again, with my fate again?

cause I can’t go back and endure this

I just have to stay and face mistakes,

but if I get stronger and wiser, I’ll get through this

what can you do when you’re good isn’t good enough?

and all that you touch tumbles down?

cause my best intentions keep making a mess of things,

I just wanna fix it somehow

but how many times will it take?

oh, how many times will it take for me to get it right?

so I throw up my fists, throw a punch in the air,

and accept the truth that sometimes life isn’t fair!

yeah, I’ll send down a wish and I’ll send up a prayer

and finally someone will see how much I care

what can you do when you’re good isn’t good enough?

and all that you touch tumbles down?

cause my best intentions keep making a mess of things,

I just wanna fix it somehow

but how many times will it take?

oh, how many times will it take for me to get it right?