Endless Cycles


They say life like fashion is a continuous cycle.  My life (at least on a personal basis,) is a living testament to that train of thought.  Until recently I had been (and continue to be,) focussed on all things Acting.  The past couple of weeks, I have done a couple of Internet Viral films, while in discussions with another agent to also represent me.  Then there is the continuing drama of actually trying to get money owed to me for an ad campaign I worked on.  The producer concerned still pops out of the Country (inconveniently for me,) and there seems to be no one responsible for accounts and settling invoices.  To this end, I am destitute, not homeless (at least not yet anyway,) but having great difficulties meeting my commitments and debts.  Does anyone who owes me money care?  Hell no!!!  Now as if this isn’t enough, I have had to endure the news from one of my sisters who lives State-side that my last surviving Grandmother passed away.

On reading her Facebook message, I asked myself the question, when will this fucking cycle of disrespect and bullshit end?  How much more of this am I going to have to endure?  It seems to go and on.  I only ever managed to get over it and around it all by just not bothering myself too much.  Not bothering to pick up the ‘phone and call.  And even then I relented.  Guilt and good manners got the better of me.  And wish now it was not so.  There is some cold comfort in that at least one sibling gives a damn about me to actually find out whether I had heard the news.  Well I had not!  And I am seething!

I guess my mother and the rest of my siblings would argue that I never laid eyes on her so what am I moaning about.  It is true I never knew her but there never seemed to be any kind of effort on my parents for us to get to know our grandparents.  Never knew any of my grandparents.  They have all died and I never knew them.  My Grandfather Arthur Gooden, died before I was born but the other three lived long lives and yet never did I see or hear from them.

And so once more I am dragged back from the 21st Century to the distant (for me anyway,) 20th Century to reflect on my early years and early adult live, something I can well do without.  Life is for living and looking ever forward.  I really don’t want to be reminded of the abject failure I was and how everyone around me looked on me as a hopeless and useless excuse for a Son or Brother.  Those days were behind me or so I thought.  My sister’s well intentioned email has brought all that back to the fore.  Once more I reminded of how little my extended family thinks of me.  No wonder I feel like I have no roots, sharing the same fate as a child abandoned in desert, left to fend for itself, when it is so clear that child would not survive in the wilderness for long.  Not a feeling I am comfortable with but once again I am reminded of the sometimes brutal and harsh verbal treatment I have had to put up with in the past.  For the news this morning represents an insult too far.  I blame not my eldest sister.  She just wanted to know if I had heard the news of our Grandmother’s passing.  I had not!  And irrespective of whether I knew her or not, mother or a brother or sister were right here in the UK, had most definitely heard the news but didn’t think I was important enough or worth bothering to be told.

Well at least I know where I stand.  There is so much more to be said, so much I want to say, so much more that should be said.  But in the end, I think to myself, ‘why bother?’  I have written about my recent experiences here so why should I be surprised that people think they can shit all over me as they like.  After all, my family have been doing it for nearly forty years so on reflection should I be so sore at the behaviour and betrayal of Ms. Sherri and Mr./Ms. Daz?  Yes I should fucking  well be!!!  Even if it something I no longer dwell on but the past has a way of coming back to the fore and taking a deep bite out of one’s arse.  And painful as that is, all I can do is what I have always done.  Soldier on through the emotional pain somehow.  It has never been easy but somehow I have managed to move forward.  No doubt I will manage again.  Time is a healer they say but Time is also a malevolent force that turns situations and events back on you by way of one’s memory.  Yes, it is all so much history one would say but history does repeat itself and right now I am having to relive all the hurtful memories of insults and putdowns.  It is really something I can do without nor need.

It is amazing how the death of someone one has never met even if it is my Grandmother, can invoke the past so vividly, so painfully.

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