Saturday, September 3, 2011


I'm trying to form a blog. Compose words into meaning. Type things that would entice your thought process and even maybe change your mind about a few things.

There is something about seeing a natural disaster that sets everything in perspective. Something that triggers the, "this is bad, but it could always be worse" mindset. The ache in your gut that there was nothing physically possible in stopping what has already occurred. The fleeting feeling that you've left emotional struggles to face head-on the physical ones.

I left Greensboro in haste. I was pretty much an emotional wreck. Not a slow moving train or sinking ship... but a fully submerged vessel still glub-glubbing to the bottom and a derailed train, doing flips down an endless cliff. Both at the same time.
Yes, that serious.

I arrived at night and by the mask of darkness my hometown seemed pretty normal until I went to park in my mother's yard. I had to wedge my car in between fallen branches and chopped up tree. My mom's yard is huge and I couldn't find a place to park... anywhere. Her entire yard was covered by branches and fallen trees. It was really bad, the worst I've ever seen it. We spent 12hrs cleaning up that mess and I got to see the neighborhood in the sun as I traveled to my sister's house. Everyone seemed to be outside picking up pieces of trees, sweat pouring down their face and their eyes squinting.

The next day I saw my grandmother's house and words can't even describe how horrible her yard looked. Now remember, I'm saying how terrible it is and I didn't even have time to see the worst part of the county. It's terrible... Humbling, frightening and personal in an impartial way. Irene didn't care who she fucked up, she just did what she was built for, large gusts of wind in a circular motion until something in the climate/landfall/cold front either made it change direction or dissipate. The whole community is coming together. People would drive past my grandma's house and txt or call my sister or mom and offer to come over and help with clean up. (Yes, it was that bad) There is a man from down the street from my grandma that keeps breaking his tractor trying to help us with clean up. Today he got a screwdriver in his tire. No blame, no anger, just "I'ma fix it and be back tomorrow" and he then shows up, ready to go.

This was exactly what I needed, I'm just sad for the reasons I was needed back home but they have proven to be fruitful. My family and I have been on edge since... well, I was 12 years old. The catalyst was when I came out of the closet at 21. My family and I have been on eggshells ever since. Each visit was spent with polite conversation and me just listening to their current events and them never asking me anything about my life. I'd go home feeling jipped and jaded. Maybe it's because this visit the focus was on a common goal? I'm unsure, but this visit was the first visit I've ever felt a part of the family, not just an alien visitor. It was delightful.

I came home late yesterday afternoon and had to call out of work because traffic was just horrid through Raleigh (as always, I hate that place) and I had spent a bit too long in Wilmington working out some brainstorming ideas with some really awesome chicks that help run Homoground. I'm so honored to be apart of the group and support such an adventurous idea. The chick that runs it is truly amazing to have put this all together basically alone and make it happen. I'm hoping that my radio insight and my obsession with writing everything down keeps me in the position of always being able to be apart of this project.

Suddenly I've gotten entirely too ADD to finish this post... 

So sorry.

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