xmas 2014

I'm not sure I've written about this ever on here, i might have. 

i think about it now i guess.... there was something I saw that triggered stuff. It was the year I was leaving Chris, I was in Connecticut for the holidays. I was staying with MM. I guess that was, for us, our last hurrah. 

i met one of my half brothers, of my biological father. there are two. anyway, for awhile, we struck up a kind of rapport and i never allowed myself to tell him exactly who i was, just that my mother knew his father a long time ago.

I have written about this. I suppose much of why I like to read about history and those historical figures so much is because of who he was and I want to understand better as a objective outsider; a bystander how this may be understood.  of course, I could not tell him who I was. His mother ruined our father in court publicly. she ruined him. I heard stories from my mother. she ftold me everything. of cousre she omitted the dirty deed but it was admitted without words a million times, who am i kidding? the point is....

i got convinced by MM that I ought to meet him. It was the start of my life as a singer person after Chris and I was fresh for the course of start.... 

Why do I look at this now? I guess because there is a need to examine meaning. 

How did our meeting go? do you wonder. I know I wrote of this. We met at Grand Central Station. He is tall, like our father. He is dark haired, like our father. This was the first thing that I observed. 

But that was where their resemblance ended. It is a strange thing to meet a sibling for the first time when you are all grown up. I examined his features. I searched. But I felt a jab within; the same as what I have known of my other sibling. This stranger, this man who is my half brother who does not know that I know this and he only sees me.... but no.... of course he would suspect after all look who our father was..... 

He was not erudite. I was immediately disgusted. I was turned off by his manner. He was handsome, I guess, but the kind I do not like; arrogant with the machismo  assumed by his assumed superiority based on his gender. He acted towards me as if I was a prospective hook up, eyeing me, flirting, sharing his fries with me and calling for more shots.

What did I expect? 

I cried all the way back to MM's and had to repair my makeup on the train. we would spend new years eve in Manhattan watching the ball drop at Time's Square with Tristan; American and Jan; Swedish, her gay couple friends flown in from Milan to crash our party.

I see him putting up old photos of dad and he imposes himself as if he is meant to step in those shoes but .... it was a moment of pause and i just felt like some lost shuffled Princess of Joan of Wales, bastard to a king and tossed to the mountains in exile 

maybe in a world of peacocks that is totally perfect

                   I don't recognize that world anymore as significant enough to look at. it is dull and boring to look at it. 

I guess what made me feel sad about his post was-- he feels so fake; like a pretender and it deeply disturbs me. Did he know sitting next to me that I was his sister? Or worse, so shallow, did he only think of me as pussy? Like cast from an Ex lover of his father's so why not? Did I feel flattered he flirted with me? No! I was shocked. Why should I have been as his own culture is that way so, perhaps it was not within his intelligence to see beyond the box. 

He was not intellectual. I tied to engage him in politics. He was not political either, even as he is running for office! 

I think what upset me was-- there was no connection. It could very well have been my sister sitting there. He was interested in the football game they had on and playing footsie with me

that was a turning point that Christmas .... I met my half biologerical brother for the first time and last, one of the only living connection to my father

what is truth?