Yes, again. You can skip all of these, it’s all good.

For some reason, Liquid Sex, aka Marilyn Manson is making everything a little calmer in my head parts, so of course I have it going as loud as it possibly can through headphones that have been much abused today. I throw things when I am frustrated and, well, they are the closest things most of the time. Things can be replaced, people can’t…

Or can they?

I long ago gave up hope that my blood would recognize the things in my life that I hold the most important worthy of anything other than vitriol and snide remarks under their breaths when they think they are just out of range of my ridiculously bad hearing. I learned in high school that you can replace blood when it is poisoned, so I did. Nothing maternal or paternal, that came a little later and at a great personal cost. No, at first it was a brother thing. Mine refused to acknowledge my existence except when he needed things for years so I made new brothers, family of choice instead of blood. Family that has helped me more in moments than he has in his entire life. They have taken the knife out of my hands, literally. They have held me in the dark while I screamed for a death they wouldn’t allow.

Then, sisters. Ah, sweet sisters.

Even in high school I had friends that I loved dearly that I would die to protect. That bond weakened with some, strengthened with others. I held their hands during pregnancy tests, deliveries of their children they honored by letting me witness. Yes, I beat up stupid boys for a few of them, bloodied noses and made threats like the Big Bear, even when I wasn’t all that big yet. I held them as they lost their worlds and hugged them when they discovered there were entire Universes beyond.

Like all things though, change happens. People come and go. Sometimes you happily help them move on to bigger and better things, sometimes you cut them away like toxic growths. Mistakes have been made, people lost that I would have back, people I was close to that I wish to the Goddess I had never known at all.

I love them all though, some part of me still does at least. It is what I do. It is who I am. It is the part that bothers so many.

I have a Tribe, People, Loves, Deep Connections, Soul Sisters, Brothers older than my parents would be now, a niece and god-sons and god-daughters. I chose these people. They chose me.

Do not think all blood is ill.

No, I have my Ducks. I have my Ducks and each one of them has saved me from a dark fate that I will not put down here lest I give it power it has not earned. I love them, my people smile when they see them, my loves hold them and kiss them and in that moment, in that moment when old and new, blood and choice, when they all come together.

That is my happiness.

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