Drunk, Depressed and Suicidal…the story of a boy.

All in Love Baby Boy

This weekend I saw a man dance to candle light and deep cathartic tribal music. The phenomenal power of every muscle and shredded fiber vibrated deep, along with the pounding of his limbs, as he stomped the earth and made an electrical connection to those of us watching. I saw the beautiful connectedness of the brotherhood and the low, resonating humming of the male soul in colors.
I then saw this little boy. This poor little pale boy with “Ojos de Víbora” (Snake eyes) standing alone in a deep dark room. Then I thought, “What makes this boy a man but the understanding of his own power. The power to protect and destroy, or to nurture and demolish a soul.” Yet his own lack of self love and self denial may be the root of his hatred for life. This boy came into my life pretending to be a man and I dared him to be one, not as a way to dare him to fail, but as a dare to allow the little boy to know he COULD be a Man. His fight is long and hard however, and his path of destruction takes women down with him. I am thankful for being knocked down, however…..because that is what it took for me to wake up….but boy, oh boy, you have no idea who you have awakened!! I am a woman of deep roots and there’s a reason why my Latin fire and passion was your draw! God am I thankful!! If this life had given me any other soul to have encountered on my path, then my purpose would not have been revealed. This boy’s denial of his own power allowed my power to come to life!  
I saw him many nights and days disconnected through the bitter taste of vodkas, the deep lows of lonely empty nights, the dark thoughts of suicide and self destruction….all this stemming from the guilt of the repeated use of women; yet again the view from the outside can be seen two fold. This man can be a healer, a healer of other men, to use women in such a way that he can break them, to take away from our soul, our families and our children. This man who gives false hope and stunted love. It’s not his fault, this is all he knows, he can only love as deeply as he can love himself….he can only give himself the facade of hope and love which leads him to fantasize about giving it all up, letting go and finally give in to the deep dark thoughts. 
Another year of life baby boy, another year of life. What will be of you as you turn one year older, and have not harvested the seed to carry your name for your father and ancestors. Maybe that’s where your kind ends. But no, there’s hope babe, I’m sure you can get a hand in this. I’ve been on the other side and you can be there too. Embrace your true power and love yourself enough to live fully. There’s no love at the bottom of the bottle, there’s no pill that will clear the fog, there’s no other bed that will heal the emptiness, or a loaded gun that will take the pain away. You, my baby boy, are powerful beyond belief, so allow yourself surrender, and only then you will see your worth without needing validation from newly broken women, or get fulfillment from the hearts you break. I see you baby boy.
In love and light,
Cinthia

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