Love…

I thought I got used to rejection and being misunderstood. It’s hard to love someone. It’s not hard to have feelings for someone but it is hard to truly love someone. Is it love to stay married to a person for years that has no interest in you beyond the good things that you provide for them? Or is it good to stay married to someone simply because they provide for you? Is it love to go out on a date with someone and leave your spouse home alone because they don’t want to go out but you do? Or would going out and leaving them alone to peace and quiet be an act of love? Is it love to give a rose or love to not expect one? Is it love to take a child home because you gave birth to it or is it love to give it away to someone who might want it…care for it…give it a life.  

I don’t believe love is what most people think it is. I believe it is the emptying of one’s self for the good of another. It is allowing yourself to look small so another can feel worthy. I’m not sure what it is completely but I know that it forgives the side of the story that’s known realizing that the other half of the story just might validate the actions taken.

And for that reason… I forgive. It would just be nice if I could be forgiven once in a while. I understand some men that spend the night with me who lie to their spouse and seek the affection of another so they don’t make her feel less of a woman than she is even though she just might be. I understand the teenage girl who chooses to have her child adopted because she is afraid she won’t be able to provide for that child. I cry for the meek and lowly who are overcome by people who choose the easy road of abusing another instead of confessing their inadequacy and asking for help or consideration. And I am content with my decisions though others will cast a stone without concern for knowing the rest of the story. I have made a decision: It is better to have loved and lost than to have loved and never been discovered.

Good Night Diary…

Tesuqah Mae

Remnant of a Man

He laid there just barely alive after pouring out every portion of barrenness that had torn apart the man he could have been. The song he played would never be heard again for it was never given ink or paper and the soul that was released with every note would be left to itself knowing that its return would only drag to hell the remnant of man that remained. My first impression when I walked in the door after knocking and getting no response. He wouldn’t be satisfied with anything coming from anyone mostly from himself. He was a perfectionist in his art but a vagabond in every other part of his life. His maids couldn’t keep up with the rage he had inside that showed itself in explosive episodes when completely frustrated with his lack of ability to communicate on his piano the emotions he so desperately wanted to work out. Masterpiece after masterpiece. I could barely wait to sit and listen to him play. Had my heart not already found a soul to embrace I would have given it to Bruce. He never lashed out at me. He cared for me like I was his baby and only sister. I know he loved but could never tell if it was a person or the dream he was trying make a reality. Today, I saw him like I never did before. He was completely spent. I moved aside the blank papers that covered the piano bench and sat down beside him. He never looked at me but allowed me to move his head to my lap and soothe his wearied mind. If only I had half the heart of that he had. My fingers pour out words on a page like a two-year-old stacks blocks in the middle of the floor never quite getting them to do what I want them to do. Bruce is my hero. I will have to put him in my will should I ever have anything of value to leave behind that my son would not appreciate.

Thank-you Bruce. You make me want to be more.

Tesuqah Mae

January 1st…New Year’s Resolution (Mae’s Diary)

“January 1st–I’d make a New Year’s resolution but that would require me to become disciplined while practicing a life of self-indulgence. And self-indulgence is all about New Years! That was an incredible night. I am so relaxed.  I’m not sure if it’s the wine or the company that makes me feel so but I could write all night. Gina was the perfect date. She gets along with everyone even if she’s not in her right mind. I think mom even enjoyed her tonight. Sometimes I wish she was a man. But…I don’t know. There’s only one man that could fill the void that evades my soul. Feels like only yesterday that we made…can’t think of that. Tonight was too good. We could have been perfect together. He filled up a part of me that would have followed him into eternity over the edge of the highest cliff. I would have given up everything. But… there wasn’t room for me. I feel like he is still leaving the room. I knew it was over. From every confine that echoed a valley of emptiness within me, I knew when he walked out the door I would never get to hold him again. If only I could have said the words that couldn’t seem to be given a voice that night…Please, don’t leave me. I’ll do anything. What’s wrong with me? But he left anyway unable to hold back or even say a word. But why? Because of the sins he’d committed or the one’s he couldn’t confess? Your God will forgive you! Just come back! Please!

Sigh… good night diary”

(Tesuqah Mae) 

Katey Didd…

Katey Didd…I met a new friend today. If I was a boy, nothing would stop me from making her mine. She reminds me of a girl I babysat once in my teens wearing her daddy’s shoes like she was Cinderella. She has left me barely able to think. She’s young, full of life and in awe of everything yet content to have nothing at all. She’s like a babbling-brook after the snows melt away and the sun shines and the crocuses break forth from beneath the autumn leaves and bloom their perfect shade of purple giving cause for the frogs to croak wildly at the excitement of life after a long hard winter.                                                              I don’t know how Manny found her and I hope she is not easily corrupted. The snake seems to have the ability to sink his poisoned claws into people and turn them into mere shells of what they could have been. It will be my life’s ambition to keep this young lady from being infected by his devious advances. I lost my best friend before I realized it was too late. Optimistically rationalizing everything doesn’t stop the poison before it laces beneath skin turning friends into what could have been prevented. I blame only myself and owe my life to saving her from this hell she torments herself with. David has got to meet Katey Did. She could invade his soul and bring him to a joy that I have deprived him. My son deserves her…

The beginning.

In the search of Tesuqah Mae’s house and the cleaning up of things, her son, David, discovered notes and portions of poems and scribblings on scraps of paper. It wasn’t hard. They were scattered all over the place! David started gathering them up into a trash bag at first until he stopped and read one that was rather lengthy and setting atop the coffee table. This is what he found… saved…and included a piece of in chapter 4:     “Whore? Two-bit Slut? – I am so thankful that God in His foreknowledge thought it good to ripen grapes and then let them ferment into a delicacy fit for the appetite of a beleaguered soul who is hell-bent on keeping a sound mind. I try not to write until I’ve gained some composure and can speak clearly through this ink-filled vessel especially when someone may find the writing some day and trash it for the vulgarity that would have come if the wine didn’t do its job.                                                                                                                                                        I was called upon this evening to entertain a man for the evening. I normally refer to my clients as gentlemen but this one was none of the sort. Obviously, he had no clue what a ‘Grizette’ is nor the role one can play in a gentleman’s life. The card reads “Tesuqah Mae Moore, Grizette.” If I would be buried someday instead of cremated, that’s what I would want on my tombstone. I do not play the part of a hooker, whore or two-bit slut as this beast of a man suggested that I am. I am a date for a night. I am not paid to have sex with you. When I agree to be your date for the night, I say what we do and do not do. I am there to be pretty, professional and congenial by your side and in front of your guests. At the end of the night, I decide what I will and will not do. My fee is to perform the function of an incredible escort like your best friend. This man thought he was special. He thought he could buy me into his bed.                                                     Though his drinks came often and his touch was soft, the purpose of gestures became clear as his wallet was opened and a key was offered to a room that was purchased but for an evening. ‘No’ was not the answer he expected nor would it be well received. But it was the answer. This body was not made for a pleasure any amount of money could afford.”                      Good night diary.

Tesuqah Mae– Who is that???

My friend Mok’s grand-mom used to say: ”Just remember, No good deed goes unpunished.”

Interesting perspective. I guess it’s  a little bit like ”Nice guys finish last.” So I figured I’d do something–but history first.

Tesuqah Mae is a fictitious character I’ve created. Her life is kept in the novels I’ve written and will be expanded on as I continue to write.  During the process, I’ve come up with sayings that she is being given credit for. I suppose you could call her my Ultra-ego.

Weird.

I’ve always enjoyed sayings. One I have used for years is “It’s all about Desire.” That’s what got the ball rolling.

Tesuqah is a Hebrew word for “desire.” I say ‘a‘ Hebrew word because there are several. However, this particular one was only used 3 times in the Old Testament portion of the Bible. Its three uses are intriguing. They can be researched or read about in the first of the series “Desire: sin lies at the door” where Tesuqah is introduced. I won’t elaborate here.

In the sequel, Desire’s Child–longing to be embraced, a diary is discovered along with a lot of other bits and pieces of papers. Nearly all of it was Tesuqah Mae’s. She wrote of things many people are uncomfortable talking about. And she wrote lyrically at times so much so that volumes were collected and will at some point be put together in a type of Anthology of contemplations of a fatherless-child.

From here out, Tesuqah Mae’s diary will become a part of my blogs as a way to keep fresh the art of writing. And to open up the possibilities of what could be or what could not.

Desire…sin lies at the door

What is it that provokes a person to strive for that which they should not have even if it causes them pain, poverty, poignant posturing of opinionated people and sometimes even an earlier than expected visit to The Gate where  Peter stands holding the keys that might possibly let one enter?

Could it be “Desire”… that one thing that drives a man to do things no rational person would ever dream of doing unless infected by some mind-altering disease?!? A love so intense that you give all you have just to be close to for no more than a small moment in time?! A craving so strong that one loses all sense of pride to obtain the one thing that will drive them to an early grave?

This is about Desire… not just a want or a like… this is Tesuqah… In the Hebrew tongue, it draws a woman to a man; it draws a man to kill his own brother; and it causes a lover to forsake all others because of the affection of one.