Elenamary

I think to cheer myself up, I am going to go to the prision tomorrow and visit Bombo.  I bought a lot of DVDs while with Charles to make him happy.  I gave him most of them when he moved out but I did keep the series Playmakers.  It is a totally predictible soap opera-esq series about a bunch of football players, but I swear to god the series sucks you in.  I decieded I´d give it to Bombo and that we could watch it together.  So, tomorrow I will head to the state prision with a bag of dark chocolate, and the Playmakers and enjoy the day with him.  What could be a more perfect day than that?

I`ve lost myself.  I am in Mexico trying to find myself again.  I know I am here, I just have to dig hard.  I have to dig as hard as my 3-year-old cousin dug in her nose to see if she could find a nose piercing like mine (I don´t have the piercing anymore).  I lost touch with friends, with school, with my blogging, with my own physical body.  I am going to find it again, and I am going to be more beautiful than ever.  Right now, though, my cunt feels nasty.  It feels used.  

Before I get started, let me explain I LOVE the word CUNT.  It is  a beautiful word.  The first time I ever heard the word cunt I was 16, and had moved out on my own with two feminist bisexual women who referred to each other and all women they loved as cunts.  A cunt was a strong, independent, fierce, take-no-shit kind of woman.  Later I learned it could also be used to refer to a vagina, but again it was still in a positive way.  It wasn`t until months after living with them that I learned most of society views the word negatively, but by then it was too late, I loved myself the cunt, and I loved my cunt.

As my relationship has ended, I realize that my cunt beauty was jeopardized, not destroyed but abused.  I want my cunt to feel better. to be beautiful again.  I want to feel about my cunt what is spelled out in children´s alphabet magnets on my fridge “I LOVE MY CUNT”…which by the way can be written out without repeating any letters.  I love my cunt, I love cunt-self, I hate that I allowed my cunt to be abused by a man.  A male friend wrote me and in referring to Charles said :  ”A man like that only wants one thing and it is not you soul or even your heart, he needs you like a crack head needs his dealer.”  I want to grab my cunt and scream, “this is a beautiful sacred place, and you have damaged it.  You failed to appreciate it”.  I also want to know that at some point someone will love me enough to want to be with me and to share having a beautiful new life be pushed out of it.