An Addict's Confession

I will admit it, I'm an addict and it was never more so apparent than the last 60hrs or so when my internet was getting transferred to my new home. I am addicted to the web and my blog and yes, the social networks.

It wasn't like I wanted this crack of choice. I avoided the internet my whole life, excepting in the workplace and such, and have felt quite proud that I could live without it. It's as if they laced it with "MSG" to get you liking its flavor and then...WHAMMO...you are hooked. I tried...I even reasoned and said I will just use it to touch up my foreign language skills and to keep myself company in the evenings when I am oh so alone. I later upped the ante to wanting to play a game on one of the people sites. But Facebook took hold of me and traded my "weed-a-day" habit for a heavy dose of "meth-by-the-hour" and soon I was into it so deep I couldn't be saved. I want to know what everyone is doing and who is hating who and who loves me. I want to play my 5 games, yes from one to five, and write my blog for my instant gratification in the form of applause. It is euphoric to say the least and these last few days I have been digging at my skin and itching like a feening whore!

Now I know what the fuck "heebie jeebies" are and I assure you in kind-it's no fun! I went to sleep wondering if my crops withered and how smug a look will be on Jeremy's face because he got paid and I didn't get my goods, back alley blood deals suck for reliability, and what my friends-all 1300+ of them-have posted and done. I am not apologizing for missing you guys and am sincerely sorry for one fact-that I had to stay away because the damn internet providers and utility providers cannot get things into a smooth transition. So, "I'm back, from outer space, and I walked in to find you staring with that sad look upon your face"...but I swear I didn't change the locks or throw away your key and want you to know this wasn't just hurting you, but also killing me!~mobe's love to her all and her all to her loves!

Accepting Help

accepting help has never come easy for me. I am the one they all run to when they have need and today Ms Mobe feels inadequate and useless in life and what has become of hers...I know it is temporary and it will pass, but today....well...it sucks.

I'm in the midst of watching my life unfold before my eyes and every tote packed and loaded is another memory and example of disdain to which I am forced to deal with. I know I have been harping on this but the raw emotion is overwhelming me and I sit here listening to the music of other people touching things my own and packing and feeling completely inadequate as it is taking six adults to do the job that I and my kid used to be able to do with one other person before. I have amassed so much memories in boxes and papers and business bags and slide shit. My kid has amassed a fortune of memories too and it will take months to unpack and sort through and "be fine" and settled. I cry here tonight worried that I will find what I need and be where I am supposed to be and that, worst of all, Lobo can catch up from her week long holiday while I transfer her school.

I will be out of touch and pulling my hair out for a time and not even able to come online for a couple of days. Life is unsure and it all comes down to who will help you pack your shit and help you move when the time comes. Accepting that help will always be hard for me as I am it is sure to be for some of you and that acceptance is big. It also signifies that you accept you cannot do this alone no matter how proud you may be or alone and tall you think you stand. I like my "alone" and my stature and feel so small and vulnerable right now. Disdain and I are old friends and this day my disdain is for my own inadequacies

I will miss you when I am away and lament for my computer and my "in touch" with the "www" and such and all the wonderful friends and idiots I have met that fuel my blogs and desire to be heard...love always, mobe

~mobe's love to her all and her all to her loves

Individuals: Part 6

wisdom is neither had nor given or gained... it comes to us in many forms and passes us over when we are too ignorant to yield to its solutions. Wisdom is the eye opener that someone isn't right of mind or flesh and has learned a lesson to which all should be privy but few are. My wisdom has been with me for centuries and my differences even longer...

As a horse of another color I am wise, not from my learned experiences but in spite of them. It would be unfair for me to assume that all my kind are as wise as I or that none of us are ignorant. Pain binds the mind in a fashion to which allows me to be capable of the nuances in life that others take for granted. Most all of my species have this pain associated wisdom that is rare in humans but quite common amongst the lesser creatures. Yes when we burn we know enough to not touch the fire but we don't need to burn to understand that. We can separate that to which harms our body from that to which harms the mind and more often wamphyri suffer the madness of isolation more that the cut of the blade. We suffer being misunderstood for the thousands of years and I am doing my part to ensure Lobo won't be and others like her and myself.

I learn from and gain from others' misery and mistakes quite easily and have reached a point to which I can assert an end result and accept the actions quite fastidiously before I make a leap. A friend of mine tells me I am always in denial for my lack of a guilty conscience and they are wrong. I am not mad at the assumption and haven't articulated well to them why, so I will make an attempt to here. It takes me less than a millisecond to see all possible avenues of destruction and succession before I make a decision that will affect me and mine. Out of this I act, and never without the forethought of what could be the end result, and there have been fewer times in my life than fingers on my hands where the outcome was none of the options to which I had purposed there to have been. I spent the last few days shopping and suffering in the sun and lack of sleep and knew I was to pay the piper in the end but accepted that and even "padded" my pain time to allow more healing than necessary. I covered my ass, so to speak, in my deadline of acceptability. I knew I would swell up and be on fire and ache and break parts I need later but I also knew the risk was worth the venture so when I let others know, I am accused of being negative and whiny. I don't "whine" rather I am proud of the scars and the lengths to which I go for the ones I love and am more of a realistic braggart than a whiny jerkoff. I wear my pains and scars proudly and love to point them out and yes, even show up others' lack of endurance and tolerability to such disastrous outcome. I love the fight and the honor in it. I love the pain I get and the successes I have achieved however small and large. My kid does too and it teaches her to tough it out and to tolerate far more than her peers ever will.

I don't know if this is a species related issue as I write what is relevant to me and my kind as a first. I am the first in our history to make it this far and am merely pointing out the dissimilarities in humans and I, and maybe I'm just a weird duck altogether, or maybe I am merely a good representation of the "old world" wamphyri and how they endured the ridicule and pain and adapted well to what life has dealt them in the cards. We cope well. Pain makes us drink, indigestion makes us come to accept starvation and appreciate food(s) better than most, sensitive senses allow us to appreciate the silence from the damage we incur from too much noise, and darkness yields a fondness for the black and white purist views that we see as our world. A blind man has to live without sight and a nightsider has to live without light and the deaf without sound and the pain ridden without peace. Strength is never gained without strife and me and my people have had our fair share. My concern now is if this pain I have and love made me the fantastic person I know myself to be, will it be a crippling factor to Lobo as she will be spared the life lessons as she won't suffer to the amounts I have? I am not ill for wanting her to suffer...not such, for the end result will give her focus and bring her to a place of higher learning and connectivity with the world around her...but as part human and all mother I want no pain in her future and hope she has plenty to appreciate by being spared and makes the most of what she didn't get, not just what she did.

I am not angry I was raped, beat, neglected, tortured, misunderstood, feared, loathed, targeted or hunted. I am pleased as it made me a fierce warrior and fighter just as my ancestors were. It made me strong of heart and of mind and of body. No one can compete so I am free of expecting that they should. No man can walk where I have been without my blood and scars and turmoil just as I am sure there are others who have suffered far more immensely than I, however many or few. It is what's wrong with today. Our children grow up entitled and think blindly and ignorantly that the world is really their oyster and theirs alone and that they do no wrong. Our children suffer little...but this past Friday she suffered fear and pain and misunderstanding and neglect and loathing right alongside her mum and held up well to my pride and surprise. Lobo will find her own pain to harden her steely nerve and make her stronger and will be a fine woman who no man will be worthy of and for that I am glad...she will get to choose her own mistakes and not accept what is just dropped upon her and she will be strong enough to say "No mas"(Spanish for "no more!")and change her course and future to what better suits her....

Appreciate the troubles you have and the pain you gain for no ship sailed ever only calm seas and if there never was a pain to be had we never would know the difference and life would be a lot less sweet...When I am pleased it is good and just, and when I hurt it is good and just, and I am good and just...~mobe's love to her all and her all to her loves

the Blackest of Fridays

This evening marks the end of the first day of Christmas shopping for the 2010 holiday season. Black Friday is an anomaly indigenous to the US, and for those of my dear readers that don't understand what it means, I will explain it to you the best I can...

On Thanksgiving morning millions of people go to their front porches, local convenience stores and delivery boxes to retrieve the morning paper. It is the biggest addition of the year containing the goodies in print and the hopes and dreams of every mom and dad and child in the form of a bargain and a "contest". The bargains are unbelievable and the contest is to be the earliest and most enduring individual known to mankind, and becomes a testament to all the things wrong with humanity and capitalism. It can also be a testament to love of a child by his or her parent, brother, sister, uncle, aunt, lover, family and friend. I never got into the holiday until some seven years ago and every year I still claim to not want to do it again next year, but it has become my "crank" of choice as it has many others. You cannot pass up the difference between shopping and spending $500 vs shopping and spending $250 and doing it at the wee hours of midnight to 5am...it has become as big a part of Americana as apple pie, the NFL and baseball. So after waking up Wednesday at noon, my normal time, and taking care of online business and things to do and spending time with my kid, I was up on Thanksgiving day morning with the rest of the psychos and ogling the morning paper bought at the 7-11 down the road along with a Slurpee and two muffins. The parade was on and I enjoyed it but not half as much as combing through one advertisement after another in the hopes of providing a Christmas she can remember at a price I can afford. With packing and moving and my health and disability I have to resort to a credit card Christmas based upon where the cards are. I have a Walmart and a Target card and needs of moving expenses and a refrigerator to move into with my brother and know what I can handle budget wise and what I cannot. I sat eagerly deciding and not really too upset or concerned about finances as I looked at Lobo circling her wants with a Sharpie and all the shrewdness and I frugality had passed on to her. I'm proud of what a bargain hunter she has become and even more proud of her compromising skills and debate strategy.

Lobo wanted a PSP, a handheld gaming system, and cited reason personal to her for wanting it that were filled with emotion and quite valid. The problem was the item was expensive and I wasn't sure what I'd be able to afford as it was more important to me that my little buddy had a  new bike so to be able to ride and chaperone her disabled mom when I got my fat ass up on my mountain bike. I had all these ideas of clothes, she didn't get any new ones for the school year and I felt I owed her, and jewelry(every girl never has enough) and various trinkets and figurines and makeup and music to stuff her stocking! She argued and even to the point of tears that she didn't care for any of it and was satisfied and only wanted the PSP...didn't even want the bike but knew I wouldn't bend on that as that was equally important to her and I....Then, she gave up, with a stoic face, and wiped her tears and said "Momma I'm not mad, it's just frustrating and I would rather have nothing and have you than to have all this stuff. I really want it but I know we may not have the money for it."

God, that hurt and still makes me cry as I write her words. Being a single mom with little support has been a struggle and my sister and her twin brother have houses full of kids and I never wanted or will ask them for a hand as with my bro, he's helping enough already filling in as a dad to my kid and giving us our new home. My sister lives meagerly and had her own hopes and dreams for Black Friday. So I took a little nap after my shower for an hour and got up at 3pm and got dressed conservatively and drove to dinner with her. We talked about our game plan and I didn't want her to go with me as I have done this before and felt she would be terrified but she was so worried about me being by myself and refused to accept my firm NO. She's heard my horror stories year after year for the last six of them. After dinner we went to my brother's and talked and stayed up till 11pm and then went to the first store. We were an hour early but there wasn't a parking space to be had and I drove around in circles waiting for someone to come out and open one up for me. We went in to a horde of equally hopeful moms and dads and with the confidence of the ignorant(yes, I have my momos), went to the back of the store to find the gaming system, that wasn't on sale for the holiday, was out of stock. I was mortified. The games was 40$ off it's original price and had bonus items in the form of a memory card and a movie and a game disk saving you $100 off of a $230 price tag when all said and done. I left my soon to be 15yr old to wait by the case for the manager while I went to go grab her cycle as the store was too crowded to even push a cart around and being just four aisles over never really was a concern. But, where I was with her was in the middle of the toy marathon section and at the stroke of midnight, the manager came over the speakers announcing Black Friday had begun and people started screaming and 3 parents got into a punch out over a big wheels electric car and all hell broke loose as normal ignorant humans turned to rabid jackals ripping things from each others hands and tugging on clothes and pushing an shoving.

The scene unfolded in a few seconds and I panicked and ran to get my kid and made sure she was safe and left, without her game and bike, disheartened. I have seen people behave this way during food shortages and even felt pity as the need was there but could find no need to behave like this over a toy or a sweater or a movie. Lobo's look was mortification and I had to get her out of there and we both were in a state of shock and gave up knowing that no matter what we were going to try again, and may not succeed but at least know we had tried. The next Walmart we got to had both her bike and seconds later with my lovely babe screaming and running down the bike aisle while I sat there stunned and proud at having at least been able to get her bike came barreling down to momma hugging her game console and crying and bursting into tears further when she saw the bike too. One gift she wanted and two she got(and then some with the money saved)and I have never seen her more peaceful and angelic and helpful in my life. Now she was all in and wanted to go to another store and get me some things she knew I was admiring. We were tired, hungry as we hadn't ate since 4pm and it was now 4am Friday morn and all was a blur from one store to the next each carefully mapped out in order of when they open with the last being the necessity, the fridge to save a $1000 of groceries from the casualty list of moving, we headed to Home Depot. I met a wonderful man there and everything was blissful and calm seeing as all the big daddies were playing tackle positions at Toys R Us and other like stores in the hopes of the father of the year award...we know who already got mom of the year(chuckles). I found a perfect small refrigerator within my $600 budget for $398, no tax and no delivery charge(going to be delivered tomorrow at my brothers house for its new home in the garage)and was so full of holiday thankfulness and cheer. I couldn't walk anymore, barely see and not feeling at all well and drove to breakfast then home to fall fast asleep by ten am and stay out until ten pm...I'm achy and sore with a newly broken hand and swollen feet and too much sun exposure, but I feel like a queen. I am in her eyes and will never lose my crown.

At the end of the day, I sit and reflect on those three parents duking it out and the people cutting us off and the store personnel who had to work instead of shop for their families and the waitress who served us at breakfast and the sore feet and headache and inflammation, broken fingers and lost day and think to myself how imperfect my world is and how perfect my love for her is and how well she knows it. I asked her if she would do it again and she exclaimed without hesitation "Only if I'm with you momma and YES I want to-this is cool, scary but cool!"...so, on that note, on the blackest of Fridays, came the hope of the purest of love and the whitest of Christmases~mobe's love to her all and her all to her loves!

A Fowl Day Indeed!

Happy Thanksgiving from mini me(Lobo)and the cats to you and yourn. I won't trifle you with tales of pompousness or evil deeds that I think on continually or what kind of hell this place is for us all. Today is a righteous day of thankfulness...

Today all good fowl run amok hiding under every crevasse they can to keep their damn tail feathers on. There is no chicken, goose, duck, hen, wren, pheasant(mmmmmmmm) safe, and poor uncle turkey waddle has it the worse! I kind of feel sorry more than thankful on this day for all the poor critter carcasses in my freezer(and belly)and the sucking of bones and crunching of bits of this and that. Today is a day for football and I am thankful for one thing...

...I don't have to be tortured with nothing to watch as the "best team money cannot keep out of jail," the Cowboys, show their asses yet again! I have my New England Patriots battling it out at one pm on CBS so the gods have smiled down on thee and given her one present thirty days early! Unfortunately, as wamphyri go, I will be just waking up and getting dressed and dragging my sick ass and Lobo's to the restaurant in the next town of choice and pigging out till we hurt and going home to a sink clean free of dirty dishes and no tempting heart attacks in the fridge calling at 4am(eat me...come on, you know you want to...just mix a little of that tart jelly with some mayo and slather it on my thighs and slide me between two slices of bread with a dash of salt! mmmmm you know you love me that way baby)for it's dirty rendering in my sore tummy. We will be pretty with no squash under our nails and no flour in our hair and not one gravy or grease stain from fighting with a dead bird over whether or not it wants to be buried in the pan or served on a plate for later intering ritual, our stomaches! Lobo and I look forward to tomorrow(today) and I look back on yesteryears at the cool and even snowy thankful holidays and the parades and the men getting drunk and fighting over the tv and the women battling dead animals with the fierceness of hungry wolves hell bent on feeding their pups first. The only flaw today will be the pity I have for all the poor soles that will be with us as we are both sick. Yup. Sick.

Even the sick gotta eat so I won't mention to which place we will go, and only tell you that I promise not to sneeze, cough, snot, snort or hiccup until I leave the establishment and get to my car. I will probably be more hygienic than the other patrons and maybe, if I find a real asshole or dick out there, I may succumb to temptation of ill will and rub my eyes and swipe my nose and casually touch the fucker! Especially if he is one of those spouse abusing dicks or child hating jackholes! Anyhoo, have a happy turkey day and if you're eating out, behave or it will be a "fowl day indeed" for you! Mua ha ha ha ha ha hah!~mobe's love to her all and her all to her loves

My Own Jiminy Cricket

I live in my own personal hell day in day out. I don't bother to move to an upscale form of purgatory as I truly believe there is none to be had. I have a conscience. I hate it and it screws every ill intention I want to exact in my constant state of disdain.

There's nothing wrong with admitting you're quite comfortable with the awkward and uncomfortable, but it is true that we would rather stay with the devil we know than to be with the devil we don't. I have a demon of guilt that rides my ass like a cheap donkey at the state fair! People that are coming and going and vandalizing and robbing and stabbing have no idea how difficult it is to hold back, but I do. Shaking my head all the way home I run through this infernal film that never ends in my mind of a bloodbath. Everything from mutilation to burials to searing fire and explosion. I don't much care for horror films, not because they scare me but because they remind me how sick I am and what I am capable of doing if there was no world order of things. Honestly, I don't even think I would live a short life either in that world, as I would certainly have a name for myself and people would fear me. I'm sure it would eventually lead to a permanent target being invisibly on my back, but the reward of regality and the stigmata that strikes fear would be orgasmic to say the least. You won't catch me suffering torment trying to figure out if I have a killing nature. I do. I just have one with a really big "safety" on it and lucky for you.

Perfection takes time and natural talent and I have lacked neither. My mind works 25/7 in that it never stops and even finds(steals)extra hours when it can. There is something sexual about a well oiled gun and slow stroking it to a nice hard finish! hahahaha(thought you were sleeping there for a second) And finally inhaling, raising the rifle and looking with one eye down the scope out four hundred yards between the crosshairs at some well deserved jackoff. Relax your shoulders and firmly place your middle finger on the trigger and slowly exhale and pulling back as you do! Slow motion sex as the ejaculating bullet sears down the barrel and coils in a wiggly worm dance out on an arc and rushing to its target! Priceless, and though it all happens in less than milliseconds, it takes forever that first time when that final sound, that chpuk, as it hits the clothing and flesh and rips through your enemy. The curtain being the sound of fifteen stone dropping like a sack of potatoes, and the eventual plume of sand, dust or smoke from the impact. Ever notice even on clean concrete there will be a billow of some sorts when a body or carcass falls-like it's displacing air and material the naked eye cannot see except in fast motion. I fantasize about this shit daily. I love the feel of guns and ammo and even have been hunting with my father and one of my ex husbands and unbeknownst to them felt more aroused holding those guns in the presence of men than pointing them at animals. I never fired at an animal and wouldn't unless it was begging me to in agony from some jackass' poor shot or if it was attacking and threatening my child/family and I had no other way and exhausted all other measures to remove the threat. Walking in camp with my rifle and knowing that with my chef skills and that gun and my eyesight and eagerness-there would be no stopping me and I would have disposed of the body count well before authorities knew the jig was up.

Empowering and morose as it sounds, these thoughts I have no conscience in the know of or guilt. My guilt would be in violating laws of man and what example I would set for the children of men. Knowing I can kill is enough for me. I don't need to pull that trigger. I don't need to taste the blood as I can do that when I bite my lip as I walk by them and fantasize that I tore their throats out with my bare hands and teeth. It is never becoming of a lady to think on such things....but I am no lady, it is my nature for I am what I am and that is anything but human~mobe's love to her all and her all to her loves

Weather Report: Cloudy with a Chance of Sunshine

the weather is temperate and still I feel a hot, heated, volcanic eruption about to begin. I should be happy as today this blog is officially registered, but as usual, I am in grief's grip. It's not that I look for things to bitch and gripe about. They just sort of happen, all the time and all around. You get used to it after awhile and when you have a mind that doesn't stop like mine, you kind of expect it to happen. It isn't a negative approach to life so much as realistic one.

*cue the adult man on the stick horse with the knight's helmet in an over exaggerated and poorly delivered french accent "You evil minded simple kunigget(bad pronunciation of the word: knight...a la francais chantez en l'anglais! *compliments of Monty Python)! This place is full of idiots and ignorants and if you expect the world to be full of daisies and sunflowers and butterflies, you're mistaken. I really expect the absolute worse to happen. Don't get in a tizzy over it as I have a valid reason. If it does happen I am prepared for it and if it doesn't happen then it is a bonus. I won't go through life running around with my head shoved up my ass completely unprepared for what it will throw at me and thinking everything smells like roses...'cause it don't! It never did and it never will. So once my kind doctor, yes they do help with the ineps' mundane efforts to become something more than just sane, had established my registered status, all hell broke loose. My mind began to unravel as I watched patiently for him to set it up, and kept my hands busy as they were itching to take control of the situation if even to get it done quicker. He was more than helpful and equally patient and tried as he will could not understand why there was no way to manually put in keywords as targets for my impending audience to be guided to me. Sounds good so far...(out pops another cranial screw)but I wasn't satisfied, mobe wasn't satisfied indeed. I knew, without even putting to words out loud, that there wasn't going to be that avenue available to me despite his confident promise there would be. I went home and opened the laptop and even investigated myself, trying not to hope or wish or waste any good gray matter on foolish invention, to see if I could find a way to tag this for you all to be able to access me and my thoughts quicker.

Mind you, tags are useful in that they give someone an idea about what they are getting into without being fully invested. They're like a test drive, only now the webmaster feels necessitable to be the test driver for me and you in the stead of my own opinion on the matter and install these tags themselves based upon the content of my humor and vernacular. I don't know from this point who my audience will be or if they have a clue as to how complicated this whole ordeal is and if it really matters as much as what I have to say rarely does. I have become unglued yet again and am not even the slightest bit apologetic for it. The clouds have masked most of the sun today for me(for those that don't follow too closely: this is the equivalent of a sunny day to you), the air is cool and the music in the background is perfect and amicable. I sit in my blue dress(not the same shade as another infamous blue dress of presidential stature)with my hair in a bun and bang out another poor weather day for you all to enjoy. The nothingness I feel is the absolute in my life and I am not angry. I am not sad and I am not confused, it's just business as usual where somewhere off in the distance sits Pan and his wooden flute playing a melody of indeference and swaying his pointy ears back in forth as if in amusement at my demise. It is what it is as nothing will ever change and of that I am at least secure in the know of...~mobe's love to her all and her all to her loves

What's Mine is MINE, Not YOURS!

I don't own anything. Not even the sheets on my bed, as it would appear every other creature seems to believe that what is mine is theirs. I have a jealous daughter and five jealous cats and even jealous ex boyfriends and ex hubbies. Why is there so much jealousy?

I bought these damn sheets, but here on this king size bed sits five of the fattest little buggers of fur known to mankind. They fight and squabble on a continuous basis over who gets to sit closest to momma and when "shooed" out of the room for the night, will sit and bang on the door while screaming and hollering bloody murder like they're holding me hostage to their incessant noise for the lack of attention they think they're getting. As much as we try to define all the differences between man and animals it becomes more and more apparent everyday in my world how much the two are alike. My daughter gets jealous of any new man momma is with even if she doesn't actually get to meet them, for she still thinks after twelve plus yrs, that she owns my breasts! I nursed her for a whole year and another year on and off as I weened and she was a good babe and we both loved the bonding, but I cannot shit in my own home without her and everyone else, whether four-legged or two, in the bathroom with me supervising and robbing me of privacy. She is just as clingy and I no longer have a say as to what transpires regarding ownership of my own body or my own possessions. I paid for them and worked for what I have and yet my bed belongs to everyone else and my heart has been torn to bits and my body obviously belongs to my kid. 

I love them all really and maybe it is partly my fault. Maybe I am too good at providing a loving and stable environment and so the only excitement is the trivial shit to which they bicker all over one another. The cats get pushy when Lobo gets more attention and the Lobo gets antsy when the cats get more kisses. I need to just disappear for like a week without notice and let all six of them fend for themselves and see if they can build a nirvana society where there is peace in my stead. One can hope right?? As for the exes...would you believe that one or more of them believe they deserve their third or fourth chances based upon their assessment of who I am with or who shows me affection via social networks? "I don't like him..." and "who the fuck is this dude?" are heard(stalker alert! stalker alert! one even has subscribed to all my postings via telephone and I get texts regarding my comings and goings)on a continual basis as if I have nothing better to do than to be grilled by the "EX"BI on my whereabouts on the evening of February 31st between the hours of eight pm and ten thirty pm. It's ridiculous and I want my life back! I want my bed and my Wavy Lays and the remotes to my fucking tv and dvd player/dvr and my down pillows that mysteriously disappear often.(need a new set it would seem now the ones I have are flat and old).

It''s high time people own their own shit, mow their own yards and mind their own businesses, even the meow/wuff/bubble/cawing people to which I hang out with. So I say unto you in the hopes of offending all equally and impartially-"GET THE FUCK OFF MY BED, LEAVE MY GODDAMN CLOTHES ALONE, NO YOU CANNOT SNUGGLE ME AT THE COST OF ANOTHER, WHERE THE HELL IS MY REMOTE, SHUT THE FUCK UP I'M ON MY PHONE, AND FINALLY...BE QUIET DAVID LETTERMAN IS ON AND THEN CRAIGY-FERG IS NEXT!"~mobe's love to her all and her all to her loves!

Time Well Spent!

making the best of my time "not" well spent! I have plans and make plans and even change plans, but the best plans yet are the defiant ones when I have my little temper tantrums and just say NO! I slept and slept and slept to my little heart's content, only getting up to utilize the little girl's room and then get something to drink and to go back to bed and sleep some more as I drift off to uncharted waters in my guilt-free mind.

I wish I had made every opportunity to make the best of my time. I really do but sometimes my heart isn't in it and, well, I wanna know what's my motive? Seriously, actors get their motive, criminals get theirs and even the damn religious door to door salesman have their motives too! I just need reminding, and being single means I get a "sick day" whenever I want when I cannot remember why the frig I gotta do this or that or whatever. Deadlines are changed and broken all the time and I know this isn't a corporation and if it was I got a few good ideas as to what we could sell but I'm afraid the one employee I have would "smoke" the profits! lmao

So tomorrow is Monday here and I have twice the work to go to and as much as I would like to take another "sick" day I know I cannot afford to. So packing it is and changing addresses and reserving a truck(as I had not done that for the weekend so the weekend was a bust-though the landlord>bless him<did give me an extra week to get gone)to move the big stuff and thousands of totes to which I have stored all my stuff. My and Lobo's personal effects will come with and quite a bit of my cooking paraphernalia too, but beyond that and the fishing equipment I will put in my brothers garage, it's just us and the cats. I still need to find a freezer for the food as his little fridge won't hold all he has and all I have, but no complaints-we'll manage. It's only gonna take me a whole month just to get comfortable and settled in and I still have to change the kid's school and all, but we'll be fine. Time is all I have, to spend as I see fit and I can either get in my own damn way or get the fuck outta it and get busy. My choice-my blame-my reward. I can do this. I need to get this all done and soon for the holiday is upon us and it blows as everything comes rolling along this time of year as we suffer from too many celebrations at once!(Thanksgiving-my birthday-Christmas-New Year's-Lobo's birthday-Valentine's day-state fair; all in the span of just under 3mos!)

today's unhappiness is with myself, for not getting my Lazy Sunday ass out of bed and getting something done. Don't worry my pets, I am not too hard on myself as I needed the sleep and my kid and cats needed to see me sleeping and peaceful for a change so all was not lost.~mobe's love to her all and her all to her loves!

No Disdain Today...

In keeping with my word so true, I have not here disdain for you
 but rather still a little poem, right from my heart 'bout my new home
To brother's house with kid and cats, a small white cottage a roof of slats
 we'll make it work someway somehow, with blood and sweat and tears on brow

My baby bro I taught so much and proud of him for giving and such
 shows true to family and sister proud, and rescued her from darker clouds
To give me shelter and help with all, and a few good laughs-we'll have a ball!
 as truck pulls in and boxes all about, I feel the need to shout this out!

I love you Jason more than you know, my only and bestest baby bro
 and never have stopped nor ever will even when my last breath shall have its fill
For what we are together is much more than when apart, and I just had to tell you all of this   from...well..you  know
You saved me in my time of need, and in the end rewards for deeds
 may not come from the source but somewhere else, and when least expected makes you melt

So to you I go and our families combined, shall have one hell of a jolly good time
 and maybe even not want to leave, so's not to suffer or bereave
We'll make this work I promise now, to you and yours from me my vow
 as Lobo will need you for she lacks so, to your little cottage away we go!

...no disdain. Just tears of relief and of worry and even some of guilt for not being able to keep it together on my own...but, most of all tears of joy and jubilation for knowing my brother grew into a fine young man(even if a little rough around the edges)and I was there to witness it all...I love you JayJay~mobe's love to her all and her all to her loves!(quit staring!-ain't you ever see a grown woman cry because she loves her brother so!?!?)

Help from My Friends

no one is so independent that they should ever refuse the hand that lifts them up. I do often when I know it is gonna lift me up, but be wary of those that would hold you down for sometimes it is hard to tell the difference as the lifters have to be tough and strong and determined and the holders come off as being sweet and special and looking out for your interests.

With a little help from a friend you can walk through life with a keen sense of heads up to tell the difference. I won't go so far as to say the holders are all evil on purpose but some are. Some just can't see the meadows beyond there forests for all the fear and failure they cling to in desperation for the evil they know is better than the one they don't, or so they suppose. I can spot the malicious fucks a mile away now, but it wasn't always so for me. In my world it is the non-evil hearted holding helpers that break me into a thousand pieces. Today one will see this, or maybe more than one and think I don't love them. Unfortunately, they don't know me very well if that is the conclusion they come to. I love them all and have just come to realize I cannot live within the parameters of their fears, especially when I don't know the rules to begin with. It's like playing paintball with your best bud you know so well only once you get out there he turns into the grocery store clerk and becomes very unpredictable as you know nothing at all about whether this idiot has got your back or not! I have learned through the scrapes and bumps of life how to spot one of them. As much as I want to help them, I run as fast as can when I see the building fall. I have been caught on the bottom of the rock pile trying to help them more than the help I needed to begin with and have suffered at the "sucking the life out of" what respect and feelings and energy existed between us.

I know they can do better and be better and even pull themselves up using the strong forearms I offered. But I was the one who needed help and I got a bum rap of and a sentence of servitude to their issues for my show of weakness and neediness. I am too good. I know this and before you laugh I have papers, reams of them from medical professionals who know me in and out who think I give too much and don't make a strong enough stand or yell loud enough when I am in need and am quick to switch into the helping role because of my exceptional problem solving skills. And they're right-I AM good and have all those skills and more, but I feel cheated. Now I am in a time of need with finances and my daughter and my brother is helping me. I am grateful for that and worried it may not work out but never worried enough as I love my brother, and even if it doesn't work out, completely I know he tried. But it is the romantic things in my life that trouble me. I can't marry Jason, though he and I kid that it was cruel and unusual punishment for us to be bore unto the same parents as we know we are ideally suited. We have even teased his partners and mine to that fact which has evoked some dark secrets in some of them about their feelings towards incest, but I assure you I have never and would never as he and I are siblings and full sibs at that. I am thankfully getting by with a little help, or a lot, from him and his family, with the next few months or years with Lobo as she has had no strong male role model in her life. Now I would like a little help with finding a partner. Someone who isn't in a hole bigger or deeper or darker than mine and who isn't wrapped up in fixing me as I am doing an excellent job of doing that part alone, and if I got into trouble am at least intelligent enough to admit it and ask for help when I need it. I want them to be there for that and help, but only what I need and ask for not the meddlesome help of trying to change me completely. I need a rock with strong arms and back and endurance to match my own. I'm not asking much as my endurance has waned some in my years so it isn't as difficult to find someone to equal up as it once had been. I need comfort and love and sex, yes lots of sex, and someone to walk on the beach at night with until my "jail time" in this state is done. I want a mate who can drive and likes to as much as I do because I don't want to be the one driving all the time because I don't trust them. I want a person who will know when to back off and know when it is ok to approach and be able to be alone at times when I need space without completely disappearing out of the home. I want to be safe and loved, and I know he or she is out there...and that I will find them...with a little help from my friends!~mobe's love to her all and her all to her loves

The Uncensorship of Mobe

have you run out of places to put your anger like I have? There just isn't enough cyberspace or paper or air time to reflect upon on all the things I see wrong on a day to day basis. It has even gotten to the point that I cannot keep quiet either. I have always been one to think before I speak and act, but as of late it has escaped me to do so as I have been opening my mouth at some of the most inopportune times, and, saying the most god-awful things.

It's not as if I want to be this crazy old lady who walks up to total strangers and asks them when was the last time they took a bath? Maybe I am just providing a service to the rest of us that have to smell or look at the unkempt individuals. Or how about the batty bitch who sees the kids with their pants half off cinched around their hips with thier daddy's belt, I just love walking up to them with my drawers half off and tell them mine are cleaner than theirs and to pull their pants up so I don't have to look at the shit stains they are advertising. And then add that if they are so poor that they have to wear their father's/mother's wardrobes then maybe they don't need that IPod or IPhone they have and can use the money to buy better fitting clothes! In the latter situation I don't know whether to beat the hell out of the moms or dads or to just put the little rude shit over my knee and slap the offensive area in the hopes each stroke of my hand will push their thinking brain back up to its point of origin! Better yet, I have noticed it has become increasingly hard to not tell the parents of the screaming meemies under the age of four that their little darling is singing the age old song of "I need a spanking right now please!" and offering to do the job myself. Yup. It has become increasingly hard to keep quiet these days.

I go home all itchy with contempt and need a shower like I just waded through the sewer systems of Haiti with no clothes on. My body cringes and coils up and my palms clench and unclench as I walk the streets with no way to express my feelings and emotions except through words, of disdain. I get that the world doesn't share my views, I do. I even accept that the world is aloof to the social structural breakdowns of our society, really. And if the lot of people share my own disdain then why do they still allow this to continue? Is it that we are all these little worker ants and believe the tyranny of our leaders and just blindly eat what they tell us, speak how they want us, do what they think is appropriate, go where we are told and behave to the manner which best propels THEM forward? And while we're on it...why is it that every person I meet who works in childcare reform is childless? What qualifies them to tell me I cannot flick my daughter in the mouth when she calls me a bitch(not that I would, for to me that is a compliment-in her case when she calls me nice)when they have no clue as to what will really work or not? And everyone yearns for the days when children respected their adults and when we actually had a say to some point in what our towns and cities do with the things and money we provide?? We are breaking down people! And if standing my fat ass up and telling everyone to take a flying fuck for themselves gets me locked up and noticed, if it makes you think about why someone educated would bear the need to explode their verbal "off" button thusly rendering themselves a constant nag to society and its many ills, then my job is far from over as I have the audience I need and maybe in time they will stand up too and wedgie the little fuckers who are showing their drawers. Freedom of expression is one thing-I'm a home nudist and if I went outside in my underwear I would get locked up but because my daughter and her peers do and are considered "attractive" when they do it, it is ok?? Buncha freeking political pedophiles who discriminate against the adults in favor of the youth that they taught to be disrespectful.

I am not going quietly and plan on shouting as loud as can be because it is all I can do! Besides knocking some heads and paddling some asses of course! ~mobe's love to her all and her all to her loves

Days of Frustration

at any given moment of any given day I will awaken with this feeling of impending doom that I will be unable to shake no matter what I try. It isn't as if I didn't put a genuine effort to it, I just have no choice in the matter and so, having come to a part of my life where I know what works and what doesn't, I just go with it.

You ever have a day that just screams to you "GO KILL SOMETHING!"? I have and I embrace those days and realize I need them as much as I need the days when the souffles always come out fluffy and never drop. In order to maintain balance we all have to come to an understanding of what our demons are and how to live with them the best way possible to allow them their freedom, but at minimal to no cost to others. I must say, despite the neglect and abuse to which I was brought up, I was generally a happy kid if even I was afraid most of the time. And now that I am older I am generally a peaceful one. I love my evil days and wish there was a way I could save them all up like you would vacation time to cash in at the end of my existence so I can enjoy the devious deeds my mind comes up with for kicks. I would love to literally disembowel some asshole who really had it coming while he/she still whimpers in his/her pool of blood, and sit there with him/her and force feed him/her each inch of his/her intestinal tract as if to let him/her know he/she can eat their own shit from now on because I and everyone else is done with what they've been dishing out. I wouldn't even be disgusted by sitting in their blood with them with my macabre stares and wild eyes as I explain the crimes and the reason for their current situation. I have far darker dreams and ideas for what to do with all sorts of people in this world that refuse to treat others as they would like to be. But I have come to realize they DO want to be treated the way they treat others, only no one has the balls to do so, and the political correctness of society and the "everyone must win" mentalities have held them back from their just desserts! Rapists and abusers and thieves and cheats and liars and torturers and oppressors and all sorts of criminal riff-raff would cringe if ever they announced a social united front and brought back public execution and torture chambers. I would be the first fucking bitch in line, I tell ya. Hell I would kill off the competition for the job without guilt, as if they really thought they were worthy! hahahahaha

It is one of the two darker professions to which I am most ideally suited. The latter being a prostitute without guilt!(giggles-I just love the response on people's faces when I explain just how much money I would make seeing as I am never sated! I could work one night a week and make more than most lawyers!) But public executioner is the one that I like the most. The blood red life force of some denizen just spilling into my hands gives me goose bumps far quicker than anyone I know. I don't dwell on the thought of whether or not I think I am a closeted serial killer, let's face this head on and just say Dexter has a sister. And like my infamous television brother, I would hunt and kill all who are deserving. The government could make money from the space in jails they would save, mind you-not all crimes would be punishable by death. But should death come at their own ignorance for not seeking or affording medical treatment when I am finished with my "play time" then death it is! No remorse and no "monster's ball" for them. As I have stated before, I don't carry guilt for I have done little to be guilty of and have corrected that to which was the "little" in part. I can hear the howls and screams of the pedophiles as they are publicly castrated and turned into eunuchs and then put into public slavery as professionals in some piece of shit job we can find for them. Keep them occupied for the idle hands of a dirty man shall be the necklace charms of Mobe!

I embrace these days of frustration and even look forward to them to keep myself a well oiled machine. I do not cower or hide what I am and I do not sell a lemon from my lot, so to speak. I will most assuredly list all my "perceived" flaws first when meeting new people and let the chips fall where they will on the table. Most often the blooming idiots in the garden of life don't believe me. And I have no guilt for their remorse or shock at finding out how truthful I really am, their ignorance is my guilt-free gain. Never has a true friend seen my darkness and been feared of what that holds for them for they are sincere in their acceptance of me, and they know how rare those vile Mobe momos are. So I say unto all, live as you want you to live but remember to live as though Mobe is watching and taking names for someday my ship will arrive and you will see a new pair of work boots to go with the ax I got to grind!~mobe's love to her all and her all to her loves!

How much is that Kitty in the Window?

consider the feline companions we have held dear for centuries. There is no one more independent or self reliant that I have been able to witness in this world. I have five of them and each has come into their own personality and has its own modicum of respect for me. No one knows for sure why we love or hate them but we do know they can be your best friend, your clowns, your babies and your spouses if need be-attn:perverts! wasn't meant that way!

I have been in love with cats since I was old enough to cling to our family cat, Ming Su a siamese lilac point, when I was a baby. She was my nanny and put up with a lot of shit from me pulling her tail to biting her ear when I was crawling and still had teeth coming in. My own parents loved her but they also feared her as, if either raised a hand to me, she would attack. She was like that with all of us kids and I still think back on her intelligence and grace. Have you ever seen a mother or father have to check a room for pets before correcting their child with corporal punishment? It's a funny sight and I was always in the accompaniment of her and her soft furry body that was like a giant slinky in my arms. All cats thereafter had to be of her temperament for me to be able to warm up to them as they were a lot more dangerous than a dog because their claws could shred the skin off a shark should they swim those depths.

Iggy, is my husband pro-temp. He is a white kitty with a black skull cap and tail and his identifiable black patches on his hind and sides. He was adopted from a litter that came from my brother's cat and is the only survivor of that pregnancy as the others that had gotten adopted had lost their lives due to neglect or unlucky misfortune. Anyhoo, Iggy came along as my other "hubby" was in passing and Jo Jo was more than happy to train and slap him and train him again to take his place. I remember what a shit the little one was sneaking up on the others and smacking them and running or biting their tails and stealing their food to get attention. One thing they can all count on is momma's lap and kisses and pets and hugs, her comfort. Now I have Iggy and several others but none holds the place in my heart as he does. I saw him born and raised him alone and he is a fine male and companion. He has took to adopting a son who is every bit as a pain in the ass as he was, I cannot even eat without having to "vote him off the island" that is my bed in order to do so without incident or the little rat thief taking what he thinks is his fair share! Gordy is a good son to us and even resembles his dad, except where Iggy has black it is a soft gray on the younger, though he was birthed from the undercarriage of my vehicle where he would hide when he was a wee one to keep safe from raccoons and hawks and such. Lobo and her boyfriend found him and she knows damn well you don't bring a new baby in the house because they never leave! I had four already of which two came with and two were birthed from the same "female auto" as Gordy. Add to that the fact we had a little dog, purse dog named Charlie Bear and at one time two budgies. I take in all strays human and non.

My issue is that I fear Iggy is going to leave me and he's only eight years old. I know that is a good age and all but I grew up with a cat that lived sixteen years plus and had some pets that lived longer and even a few, shorter. He is robust, all my animals are as I leave a community feed bowl out with he same for water and they are a family unit. Hiro is a big gray with white tux shirt and booties and mittens. He is the one who bolts when company arrives and only comes to me when I eat but never pushy like Gordy, he will wait for me to cut little morsels and hand feed him. Roxy is a rescue from my sister's house where her other feline was bullying her and she is an unusual tiger in the fact that she looks like she fell down a chimney. Imagine Morris the cat covered in soot-if you look closely you will see her tiger markings under the black dusting. She is our mother hen and "washing mistress" and the whore about town in that she has an affection for all humans male. And then there is Boomer, the other car baby, an all black boy with the voice of a woman and the swish of his tail as a woman too! lmao-he is our politically correct, homosexual kitty and no, I did not raise him that way so much as the little doggie acting as mommy one minute until Boomer grew up and then same little doggie pulled the old "Woody Allen" on him and sodomized the poor thing until he grew to like it. If we took the cat away they both would cry for each other and none of the other cats wanted a thing to do with Charlie Bear so we figured it was all good as they were consentual by that point and as long as I didn't have to watch it I was ok. So, with all that love and affection, Charlie Bear was re-adopted by a friend who wanted him as I am not a dog person nor a heathen, it does leave wonder about whether I will be cremating another hubby and shedding tears of grief that will be with me always as Jo Jo's were and are.

I see Gordy growing into a possessive temperament like his predecessors and know he will be a fine mate in that regard. But I am not ready to part with Sir Ignacius the Fool, my loving clown, just yet! So our little "prince" Sir Gordon Ramsay Jr, will have to wait to accept the throne until it is relinquished by his dad, my love. Iggy adores me. He is my hubby in every way, save sexual, as he is protective and argues and compromises and is indignant and demanding and affectionate as ever any one of my "real" spouses have been. He is ten times the man any of them ever were and he adores his adopted daughter too. He even watches over us and grieves our loss when we are away and has accepted that he cannot share my bed at nighttime for I fear when I do have male company he will harm them, just as his predecessor has done. Hell, in the morning he would bolt into the room only to inspect to see if I was ok and well, and would make a point of "fucking with" the men should he doubt their gentlemanliness. I love all of them dearly and wouldn't be sane without them and Lobo would be lacking in siblings if not for their place in our home and hearts. Consider this, if any person should wish to be my friend or my partner they must pass muster first with the rest of my family, including my hubby, and be accepted or it just won't ever be. Ig has judged many a man and woman and found them "wanting" and not worthy.~mobe's love to her all and her all to her loves

How May I Help You? a customer's nightmare

There is no polite way of getting your point across but this day just blew! In the secret sanctity of day-dom, this was the epitome of the world's worst asinine day known to humankind and all other forms of life!

I can't get a break. No matter how hard I try to be patient and to "put myself in someone else's shoes" there will always be this imminent underlying and overwhelming need to choke the living shit out of the dumbass dead heads walking around this planet with entitlement! Let's take a journey and see if you can find where "I" went wrong or let me know if ya feel the un-love and would have blown a fucking gasket like I did!

First I have been troubled. No one specific person's fault but been under a lot of stress lately with moving and holidays and exes crawling out of the woodwork for a "last try" so their dumbasses can say they had a date over the holiday season and not look like the needy fucks they are! So having only two hours sleep in the last 48 hours, I settled into bed at seven am which was right on schedule and awoke at 2:30pm when my baby came home from school. She kept her issues down to a minimum as I forewarned her that momma was not feeling it today and was still tired. Then her father calls. No biggie but I had already called him this weekend to discuss the holiday schedule as we hand her off in alternating holidays-for those of you with slow friends that means one gets Thanksgiving and the other gets Christmas and we switch the following year. Well he had decided to discuss it further with our 14yr old daughter and not include me into my own holiday as he was making plans for my holiday with her. Her saving grace was to tell him to bugger off to which she handed me the phone and we got into it. So I wasn't feeling it at all by that point, if I was only a lil bit earlier and her and I headed out to go do errands after supper. Nothing unusual except my first stop was at the local gas station to find some idiot with a gumball license had parked directly in the middle of a four pump access so as to make sure she didn't get her 2004 Mitsubishi dented for fear it would lose its "lot" value! Incredible as it was, it was no surprise to see her talking to herself when she finally emerged from the freeking store and even answered herself too.

Next we drove to our Walgreen's to get my vampy prescriptions. I call them in every month and to avoid ME they established a new call center so some crazy bitch in Louisiana has something to laugh about and fuck up after she gets off the phone with me, twenty five miles northwest of Tampa FL. So over a short duration I figured how to get to the pharm directly and make sure I get someone who will answer for the screw ups when they occur. Today I went to the drive thru and patiently waited without mirth or injustice in my heart, and when it came to my turn she rang me up without issue and I checked my bag to find they omitted two of my medications. Now I know odds, and two out of nine isn't bad, but when we're playing with people's lives it is critical. I was told it would be 15 minutes so I informed her I would return later and get them after my routine. I mean seriously, I explain to them every time on the phone that this is an issue of incompetence and even have to spell my prescriptions to them and listen to them gossip and whatnot while entering it all into their handy-dandy computer, to go there in three days and find the "re-re" bitch either deliberately or ignorantly missed one or two or even three! I left with a less than stellar smile as they all looked so concerned for the hassle they caused the last 5 years with making me return time and again.

My next trip would have been uneventful had not the cashier look like my kid will be his boss in two years when she turns 16, he being 40 with he IQ of a 6yr old who just found out what his dick could do! I paid for gas at the pump for a separate receipt(yes I went to a gas station earlier for lottery as this place doesn't have it, and thank the gods because this idiot couldn't handle just cigarettes and gas!)and went up to his kiosk to get cigarettes and a couple of calling cards. These are global cards and they have the best price in town and he disappeared in his kiosk, which was an amazing feat considering the whole unit was 8ftx8ft and the cigarette wall was see through and moved back and forth. He came back some 5 minutes later to inform me he couldn't find them and they didn't carry them. LOL, I purchased them there a dozen times and they had a sign I could have beaten him with not inches from his face and when I got in that line it was me, myself and him and now the whole damn town was there and giving me the "eye" of disdain! I said fuck it and told him I will be back later when an adult came to work and then I left. Drove around the corner to Walmart for a lock for my new storage unit. No biggie again. Found the lock and a couple of items to stash for Christmas and went through the register to have my credit card declined. Now at this point I was pissed. There were little kids screaming with their low class parents and grabbing shit in the check -out aisles and I was seriously fighting the urge to put the mommas and the poppas over my lap and  give them the ass whoopin' their little demons deserved! In some cases I do think it is warranted and today was such a case. I paid with the other card and left in a huff and hurried to my car. I called Capital One to ask them what the fuck was up and why they keep declining my credit when I am never late and pay more than the minimum and was told they need more verification as there was suspicious activity on my account. I guess my meds set off an alarm and the gasoline and cigarettes made them quiver and when I tried to buy a Pepsi they just couldn't handle it!

This lady was from another country to which I will be discreet and not disclose except to say it rhymes with BINDIA, and wanted my social security number, my address twice, my three digit code on the back of the card, a cup of coffee and scone, my bra size, shoe size and to sit and have a fucking chat about every transaction I did today as well as everyday since I was 18 and had my first credit card! I verified my social number with auto-help and verified the code and typed in the correct account number and, beyond my name and address, she really should have gotten her own breakfast and a puppy to break up her lonesome momos so as to not need the chat time on my schedule. I asked for managers, six fucking times as she kept reading her script like she was auditioning for "Slumdog Trillionaire: the Sequel" and finally, after threat of bodily harm and possible napalm/genocide, I was transferred to her boss, a polite southern black woman who asked her in front of me if she verified the code and address and social security number and why the hell she wouldn't release my account. Then the boss disconnected her, as it was safe to assume she wasn't on vacation in the middle east, and apologized to me and released the funds.

problem solved....Now while all this is happening and my happy fat ass is rolling through town looking for the next fucker to go on my Christmas Death Wish List, there were sirens everywhere. THAT should have been an indication today was 'TARD day and all good peoples should stay indoors with duct tape around the seals so the infection doesn't spread-but I didn't, and well, I think I'm coming down with something "not" funny-my nose itches! Hindsight being 20/20 I should have "throated" the little bastard kid in the car next to mine at the pharmacy for being a shit as I was dealing with missing LEGAL drugs and he was hanging his six-yr old head out the window screaming "hurry-up!" I should have gotten out of my car and punched his mother in the face as she did nothing and grabbed him by the ears and slammed him into the door/window jam and cracked his pipe so he wouldn't be able to fuck up his school holiday play as he was sure to do, he could play a goat. It never ends. I can't get a break. Had to drive to Walmart number 2 to get what Walmart number 1 didn't have and try to act all happy and not homicidal and actually pulled it off, but then wouldn't you figure as we were leaving, some dumb bitch ten years my junior shout to her mom while walking into the store "Holy Fuck I want that tree Jesus fucking Christ why do they have it up now?"(here's her sign: *holds up both hands with one finger secretly hidden) Please, there were Christmas displays out as early as before Halloween by weeks and I know this chick and her barefooted momma in their jammies didn't shop at the local Macy's, so perhaps, what do you think the odds were that she has seen the displays well placed where her kind will see them so as to maximize the income potential from the "government assistance but not needing it" crowd! I wanted to take my car and run her over and over and over and over until she was a puddle the street sweepers will get at 3am. All's well...Walmart was finished and yea, the card worked at this one, and we left and headed....you guessed it...back to Walgreen's! To get my fucking prescriptions and go home at midnight with this sick feeling that I am turning into a serial killer, my targets: ignorant fucks! Why can't people do the RIGHT thing the FIRST time instead of continually doing it WRONG! If it's a case of not liking your customer, there are things that are considered better to do. For one, do it right so the person doesn't come back and wait for your shift to end and follow you home to watch your routine for a month and then sneak inside your house and chloroform your ass and beat you with an aluminum bat!~mobe's love to her all and her all to her loves(and a tranquilizer for bed)...gnyt!

Can You Tell Me How Much Time I've Got?

Precious are the days to which you find you have more time than was previously thought. Most of us cannot find enough and for the more somber situations beyond mere mortal control, some fall very short. No matter how long or short we are a greedy lot and want more than was allocated.

For my kind the truth is we aren't immortal. Even the ugliest of my kin are beautiful creatures in that we have youth on our side and it torments us. All humans share in that concept as I have been a cashier and know the sting of a woman who didn't get ID check for her age limited purchase. I have also been on the opposite side of that counter and still get carded for cigarettes and alcohol and I am pushing forty years old. We look young so it is assumed we will live to be old and wrinkly and then die of natural or unnatural causes as would be most cases. I am supposed to die young though, if a half century is young. Either way I squander my time aimlessly putting off what needs to be done until the last possible moment to which will just get me into the deadline or just after it. I miss the punctual nerd I was as a youth, but I couldn't be the inspired artistic jackass I am today had I held too tightly to the pocket protector and suspenders and goofy attire and knee socks!

What is time? Time is the absence of thought to me. The act of sitting on a park bench and completely blacking out until it is just you and nature no matter how many cars and roller skates go by. Time is what happens to the voices of children's laughter that have dissipated in the dream state you drift into and you're gone for but a second but you feel like you've been away an eternity. Mobiuschic was an interesting handle to have picked as no one on the internet even tried to have it. Type in any pop slang and you're guaranteed to be able to find it as someone's username. But, you will find only one "mobiuschic," all lowercase as the capitalization isn't as important as the distance it goes. The truth is we never take the opportunity to use all the time we are given and a great man existed who made his opportunities travel through time! Mobius, or August Ferdinand Möbius, Germany (November 17, 1790 – September 26, 1868; was a man of great concept and mind. You will get nowhere without his help and that's a fact as his strip, called the google, is the model of infinity as time is always expanding and never ending. I chose that name quite carefully and have eaten up many emails and used it at a multitude of forums...chances are if you come across a "mobiuschic" then it is I. Here I have gotten used to the lazy week mentality of my peers and allowed them to alter it in conversation to simply-mobe.

My time is always relevant to me as I, like all creatures, am approaching my fall and feel winter closing in on me fast and in a manner of speaking, time is running out for me. My only contentment is in the fact that my "strip" will continue to entertain the masses to the end of time, pardon the pun. Now that I have wasted yours a bit and mine as well I seem to be running out of the prescribed amount I allocated to my packing and moving, traveling to my bro's for a permanent vacation. So mobe wants you to make the best of your own infinities and be productive and loving to one another, or, if you fight do so to the fullest extent of enjoyment! ~mobe's love to her all and her all to her loves.

Meat or Veggies?

There's always a benefit to good nutrition no matter what you decide to nourish. An appetite or for health reasons or even the soul, you just cant beat the chewy feel of meat or the crunchy side of veggies. One has so many options, so which do you choose? Meat or veggies?

I guess it would all depend upon if you are nourishing yourself or if you are feeding the other. And of course, if you are the food or not. This is autumn and it the season of mating for the larger forest beasts. Big record breaking bucks will come into "rut" showing off their fighting stance to attract the females. Always the wiser and most powerful wins and he get his pick of how many does he wants and which ones. But what of the does? Don't they get a say and why don't they do something about all this fighting??

I have witnessed some human bucks recently. Only this time when they had "hunger" the food on the menu was me! It would be easy to say that I was flattered but that thought never crossed my mind until way after the event of a lifetime... I was terrified and worried and in a state of shock and not one bloody nose in the whole ordeal, though I know full well had they been close enough, it would have come to such or a black eye at least. I have a lot of friends and most are of the male persuasion. It goes hand in hand with being so vocal and being a different species. I am not any more special but because I am different it's like I'm a new toy and one of a kind so the rarity breeds jealousy. I never have seen either of them behave like this and I felt like a felled gazelle being ripped apart by a lion and a jaguar! It wasn't fun in the least as I care for both of these men and was thanking the gods on high that no other exes showed up to the "party" and joined in. It doesn't matter who won as rarely when it is human strutting no one person truly wins, but I can't help but feel broken. I have been racking my head all night and most of my day trying to figure out what I did to encourage it or how I could have better prevented it, and what I came up with, their wasn't a way to change it. It happened. I don't know who's mad anymore or if I'm at fault in anyone's eyes or what I lost yet, as the doe always loses in this deal. If this one doesn't want me to talk to that one and that one...you see what I mean. I am friends with both these men and have a history with one, to lose either as my friend will hurt me to no end and now, I'm feeling like it's gonna come down to me being forced to make a choice. I have to choose which piece of meat and in turn feel like a vegetable when it would have been a lot better had King Solomon just cut my body in half and doled me out! I would make an ample and lovely arrangement amongst edible flowers and chocolat and passion fruits-dontcha think? I would have been happier had I been a veggie and they just both sliced and diced me and moved on to another piece of food!

So ladies and gentlemen, lasses and blokes, the chef is happy to serve one of the finest and most rarest of decadence know to mankind: the delicacy called Wamphyri from a little west of Boston butt steamed in her own anger and awashed and basted in guilt for her part, with a side of humility and angst for the lost two coconuts she loves!~mobe's love to her all and her all to her loves...

...ps...I'm not really blaming me-it's hunting season-ruttin' time, so what do you expect?! lmao

The Maiden Comes

With crossed arms and furrowed brows to the tips of ears and shredded shrouds
     Standing against the winds
Hollowed hearts and weakened knees trembling spine filled with disease
     Standing against the flames
Tires soles and frozen hands hang beside all reprimands
     Standing still aside

There's no place I cannot run or a face come all undone, but I will not be any fun, if I crawl inside.

Steadied legs will brace for change despite the cramps and muscle pangs
     Why don't she go inside
Readied arms will hold up tight with all of strength and all of might
      Why don't she go it's time
Shall not strike 'less stricken first and not hollar 'cept in thirst
      Why don't she swallow pride

There's no way I'll be locked up tight to be tortured through the night, allow for only devil's sight, if I run and hide.

Stoic stance in face of death lends to her but nothing left
      Will fall before she flies
As they come not one by one but all at once to harm them some
      Will call upon her guides
There she lay upon the ground alone and pure not e'er a sound
      Will return to skies

There's no way to silence her, to quiet all she sings in mirth 'tis her right since from her birth, reborn to them outside

So our maiden's come again to lend another helping hand and do all her bones they can and no more less than rend

So they watch her fearfully with shocked visage and quaky heaves as she toils happily white hearted they did send

So she'll watch more closely to the trees and mountains and seas. In the valleys she will lie amongst the birds and bridled beasts. For she's here each time as a door to see what all has done by humanity and sends a word up high to thee. And each time she will be but briefly here, will you invite her inside?

Insert Foot Here

I eat lots of things. All of us do and even at times we find it hard to swallow certain unprescribed medicines to keep ourselves in check or safe or well. There are even times those non-prescriptions involve the eating of one's own foot, so how did we get to this point?!

When a person makes a stand for whatever they are either sick of or believe in, they usually have something to say or do. My battle stance is my words, and when I feel my rights aren't right I will speak out-LOUDLY and, to the dismay of others not involved, it tends to be an issue. Today this happened to me with a group of people I hold comradeship with. I spoke out regarding the issue of adults behaving like children whining on a playground. But it occurs to me in the speaking out that I too am guilty of whining in my stand and, thusly, am chewing on toes and heel as we speak.

So how does one prevent these undesirable meals and still get to have a say in what drivel comes through to them? I don't know, I don't think anyone has a perfect answer to that question. And as battles go, when a person stands up, they become a target. I meet many people on the internet and many people abroad and can happily call most of them friends-close ones at that, but there are some who I am friendly with that I haven't been able to get close to. People have a right to express themselves and be who they are but we all want them to behave as we like. I love you all here at home and abroad. I want my friends to be comfortable to say what they want without the threat of a "sole" meal to cure what ills them. And as we all know by now when Mobe wants, Mobe assuredly won't get and for that I am sorry, especially when it affects you guys. I say what I want all the time and very rarely have to apologize for what I say as I feel there is no need to as I have a right. But now I understand some have a right to not have to listen and have the freedom to dislike or even bitch about it if they so choose. None of us enjoy the negative criticism doled our way, but we all have to face it and I got my dose of it today. I will always speak here from the hip and with all honesty and grace but I also promised there would be no censorship to what I say as this is my editorial. I won't even censor any comments(aside from threats of bodily harm or personal attacks against my family)placed on my blogs. I just can't do it with a clear heart, and want you to all know that you STILL CAN be yourselves, here at least, and you will be loved and accepted as my friends and colleagues, as my family.

This is a serious day of enlightenment for Mobe as she thinks about what she has to say all the time and even how to articulate it so it gets the best "funny" out of you and so it can be understood. There is no funny today, for Mobe mourns the loss of her foot and the lost of innocence and the right to speak freely. Everyday our first amendment rights are under attack and today is such that day...love one another, teach one another, guide one another and let live as you would want to be allowed to live~mobe's love to you all and her all to her loves

Locked Doors & Brick Walls

I have learned most of what I share with you from a plethora friends. It's not to say that I haven't picked up on shit on my own, and certainly not without the common sense to be able to put two and two together and come up with four. You just aren't aware of the impact my friends have on me and how many of them exist that the untrained eyes cannot see. Today I had an interesting conversation about the subject of "locking things up."

We struggle day to day for basic needs of which one is comfort. How we place a measurement on that is as individual as fingerprints but also it is the same in the fact that comforts are not really tangible, unlike what we think. We need to be accepted and so on and we tend to build walls and lock up parts of us we don't want anyone to know or see. We tuck our emotions and seal them up with mortar and earthen bricks. The problem is these things are alive! And as living things go, they have a will to survive and those bricks will fall and the doors will unlock and the sunken chests will always float to the surface. I struggled day in and day out for my right to exist and to know who and what I am. I never have locked up part of me as it never ceased to feel alien to me to do so. We dress ourselves up for a date and put on our best "faces" but these things are not who we are. Gotta eat with the right fork and always keep our hands in our lap and never laugh too loud or love too much or make a "to do" or pitch a fit. We are afraid of these uncivilized parts of us that we cannot even kiss our loved ones and enjoy their flesh as sacred or express proper emotion for fear of being driven from the pack! Piss on that!

If it was intended that I be in a pack I would be lupine not Wamphyri. My heart bleeds and is wounded by the men and women I meet that are one thing and then another always trying to act out an existence not their own. We are animals and nothing more, and we procreate and defecate and urinate and flatulate and eat and sleep and sing and laugh and fight and sparr and teach. We are capable of being so much more than the pretty faces and bodies and words that others hold as standards for us to follow. I don't want to own a pack or even be a part of something so diseased that it would force me to cut off my arm to join. So why would I want to be part of a society that forces me to act civilized in a world where it is perfectly ok to blow up a peoples because they might do us in first and send my kid in to do it for me? This world needs its leaders and its followers and I would rather die being a leader, or scout, who fell on burned blade showing the dangers to the rest of the sheep, than to hide in my treasure chest and pretend to be something I'm not and let others make my decisions for me. I don't follow-ask Lobo this. It unnerves me even to have a freaking car in front of me when I'm driving let alone a flock of assholes who can't see in the dark. I will fall as all of you will and would rather die learning and teaching than to live with part of who I am locked up somewhere for fear that I may have rocked the boat and offended the ignorant and unoffendable. I am all about being lude, crude and socially unacceptable and relish and enjoy teaching it to those who are sick of the sheep mentality. I don't wear underclothes all the time and rarely do up my beautiful face. I haven't shaved my legs in almost a year as I see no need to hide what was put there for a reason. I don't even shave "that" to which makes me resemble a child to which I am not! I despise those that do and find it sickening enough to regurgitate the evening's meal in a steamy pile to stare at it than to bear witness to the fallacies of human nature. Men shaving their genitalia in the hopes it would appear more hearty to the women they hope to catch!  A dog doesn't rub it's crotch on a rock so it will look more pink to a bitch in heat! It is preposterous, it is ugly! I love every fat and healthy square inch of my ass and all parts in between. The same goes for my angry self and vindictive side as I have no need to alter my emotions to suit someone who doesn't feed my kid or I and wont give me a pillow for my head. My disdain has been brought to you by the sheer disgust for all things not proper-as I SEE THEM! I love a man whether he be bald or black or burned or crippled or what not. I want someone in this world to take charge and lead us that can go to a fucking Walmart to buy kitty litter without having to make me wait while he spritzes on his Polo.

As for civilized...I see more civilization in a troop of ants then I do the human race. I love my smell and the things that come from me of which Lobo is loved most of all. I loved the smell of her head when she was born and smelled of me and my "private" parts, the pussy, and enjoyed knowing that if you blindfolded me and passed around twenty infants I would know mine from the rest! My odors tell me if I am ill or if I am happy and say so much more than a doctor ever has been able to! It took those fuckers 22yrs of my adulthood and another 16-17yrs of my childhood to finally diagnose, validate who I already knew I was! So, for tonight's thoughts and mind altering states I am happy to announce that I did NOT shower today and have no plans to as I am clean of heart and soul and mind, and happen to enjoy knowing I can still break a sweet musky sweat when thinking alone at night, in my bed in front of my words, and later drift off into blissful and sated(in all ways)slumber at dawn until my fat, happy, stinky ass wants to get up and trudge through the jungle, in front of the pussies and wimps that are locked inside their own fake lives and brick tombs!~mobe's love to her all and her all to her loves!(p.s. You know who you are when you see this-you are loved and are accepted in all you are for you are YOU-big loveable you!)

Individuals: Part 5

Each time I post on the subject to me I find my head swimming with repeated affectations telling me to stand my ground and that I have the strength. Strength is a matter of perception and I am strong to others but to me, I am not any more stronger than a wee weakling.

When I was in high school I wasn't able to pass the presidential fitness evaluations that were mandated by the Reagan administration during the 80's.(I think Arnold Schwarzenegger was appoint the secretary of physical fitness and I remember that I weighed exactly what he did in the tenth grade!) If I recall correctly, it was supposed to be that, when it came to lifting weights and the show of "might," that a man should be able to lift around half their own body weight and the woman far less. This was an effective tool for measuring where you lie respectively but no more than that. I couldn't lift my weight and do pull ups on the bars, I believe most women aren't capable as our musculo-skeletal systems vary from that of our male counterparts. However, I was able to lift almost twice my weight in "foreign matter" in the form of squats and such! I was a goddess in my own right and despite suffering the side effects of old age and abuse and medical issues, I am still mighty by that standard. Our people have been attributed with super-human strength and though I have not met too many others in person, I find that holds true with the two Wamphyr I know. I can't tell you what it means to me now, but I can say this, as I get older and even though I am getting healthier I miss those days when I was a beast! A sexy beast, that could pick up a grown man by the time she was twenty years old and throw him through a plate glass window for whatever offense the dumb-ass had incurred.

Every myth has its reasons and ours is simply that we are capable of pushing through to the points unreachable by humans past the pain thresholds. Yeah my arms ached like a bitch but how many women are there that you know that can lift the rear end of a '77 Mustang six inches off the ground by herself and feel her tendons ripping and elongating severely and her bones snap, and keep lifting? My poor girlfriend Linda was freaked out as she sat in the driver's seat trying to gun the engine while I lifted the rear tires out of the sandy lot that was her yard. When the car finally leaped forward my knees buckled and I went down like a sack of turds with a rock in it thrown into a pond! In the next yard over there were four burly-big dudes in lawn chairs pouring beer on a fire and shooting the breeze together. I ain't ever seen four fat men move their asses as those had. They had guilty consciouses as they sat and watched and even mocked us for our endeavors and not one believed I could do it! But when I went down I had their respect and when they tried to lift the tail end of that steel "boat" they were scared! They immediately went form respect to admiration and even idolization for the young woman on the ground silently and calmly bading them to keep their distance for she was afraid of hurting them.

I wasn't wanting to hurt anyone. It is also a side effect and one attributed with most animals, even some of the human kind. I don't like people near me when I am hurting or protecting my interest, my kin. In this case hurting, and I knew I would have to put my knee back together and pull myself up, but it was more important to me to do it gracefully and with dignity for I too had a guilty conscious, pride. One had gotten bold enough to come over and grab my arm to lift me and the words that came out of my mouth would bring Charles Manson to tears in the validity of their promise of mirth. "Back up and remove your hand or I will get up broken knee or not and rip it off at the shoulder and beat you with it while you still bleed until either you crawl away or fall in a crumple to the ground like the 'pile' you are!" I was calm when I said it and you could see him look at his other three buds trying to lift the car and look back at all 224lbs of sexy blonde ambition and back at the car and his straining friends. Slowly the wise fool backed away and I didn't get up until they had rocked the car in and out of the sand. Linda was silent and on her stomach operating the brakes, she had no driver's license, and the gas at my command as I drove to the hospital some ten miles away with two broken knees and two sprained ankles. Once there my treatment was less than ideal as I had no insurance and was given x-rays and sent home on crutches and told to follow up with orthopaedic.(they do this so you will have to eventually owe someone something as no ortho will touch you without payment in advance-so I just went about my days on crutches until I didn't need them and moved on a little less than I was, and a lot wiser for my efforts on all subjects)

Strength is perception, yes, but it builds character and wisdom too as I know not to "do" things just because I can~keep safe and love one another and don't sit back and watch her fall to the ground, pick your neighbor up before they need to be! ~mobe's love to her all and her all to her loves!

Needs

Needs suck! We all have them and have had them for centuries to millennium. I need right now to know where the original copy of this particular post disappeared to in cyberspace! Seriously, I had it finished and >poof< it is gone and this site wants me to show it my scars so it will know it is me at my computer as if my vernacular was common practice these days! Anyhoo, let's see if I can do this again...

Ever since the beginning of time we have been a social society with needs leading us like lemmings to the White Cliffs of Dover. Don't get me wrong I have my own fair share and who doesn't want to feel needed? It has it's perks but I have learned to love the lack of needs being thrust upon me without consent or invite. Lobo needs me less and less each day and has no problem telling me so. She is at the point where if I don't feed her she won't starve and can take better care of herself than most men/women I have resided with! No more diapers and booboo knees. She doesn't even tell me when she is hurt or injured until well long afterwards. And despite what she'll say, I do get a little satisfaction out of the fact that she still needs me to cheer her on and such, less hands on and more head in. Head in the oven of the stove, while she shreds my ears day in day out with her incessant need to inform me of every issue and friend and song she knows I won't approve of and fart she puts to paper as if my own smell isn't bad enough in print! I feel like sticking my head in the range and hanging a sign on my fat ass that reads "Ding Dong the Witch is Dead: Now Get Your Own Damn Dinner!" But I will settle for the blank stare I can pull off without a twitch. Good god she folds her arms and pushes her one foot forward as if to tell me to STFU with her needy little OMGs and WTFs and what nots.

Don't get me wrong. I have met some needy shits in this day and she isn't too bad. I'm not even without needs of my own as the only one I truly will have unfulfilled by the time I'm dead is the need to be HEARD and understood.(that's where you all come in for those that didn't catch it) It was me listening to the adults growing up and never daring to open my mouth for fear I'd miss something important, and now my own kid holds me hostage to listening to her fourteen year old drivel. Since when did my right to speak just get tossed out with the dirty water?(throws hand to forehead as if the over-dramatic gesticulation will incur the "sucking in between the teeth" pity response from you the audience) I need a break and while we're at it I need a car and a home and a smaller ass and my kid to wear a muzzle and a man who thinks the sun sets on my fat ass and the moon riseth on my breast. Be kind and throw in my grandma's blueberry dumplings too with a scoop of Breyer's French Vanilla ice cream and everone to get the hell out for a bit while I make love to the bowl and spoon! Seriously! Beware the Needful things, my lovelies, for they will steal your souls and banish them to the kingdom of fire and brimstone! Mua-hahahahaha-hah!!~mobe's love to her all and her all to her loves(if ya find a sexy "mr. not gonna do her wrong" walking around anywheres send him my way *wink)

Moving Rewards: Ben & Jerry's

If someone told you that you could live a long and fruitful life raising your child for eighteen plus years and then bequeath them to the world to be alone in your home with the blinds pulled and your pets gathered around and the only intelligent conversation you will have would be "Would you like paper or plastic?" at the checkout counter, wouldn't you too just want to climb into the ice freezer at your local grocer's with a butcher knife and dare the fuckers to take your Chunky Monkey from you?

May the gods strike anyone dead in those times of need when I'm having my monthly affair with those two guys!(Ben and Jerry in case you're a little slow to the take) And if they don't have something that moves me then well.....game on!! I am lactose intolerant to a small degree and if I'm gonna fuck up my night I might as well enjoy it a naughty bit! There are so many reasons one craves cherries and chocolat or fudge and coffee with Heath bars but whatever reason you don't want to come to blows in the middle of them and their desire! I feel a "B n J momo" coming on as I have been frustrated with all I have to do to move! I know I will need to de-stress, but I am denying myself that reward(delayed gratification is a wonderful thing)for my misbehavior until I know I have done something worth rewarding! Talk about mental! I even "toy" with myself a bit just for something to do! I still have to go to my kid's school and get a hold of my lawyers and sort through a two-bedroom condo's worth of shit and make it small enough to fit in one room at my bros! I stare at a wall of clothing I don't hardly wear and I am sick with myself at having amassed so much and wonder, if I had all that cash back, what kind of house I could be staying in instead! Maybe one with this huge deluxe bathtub big enough for 4 adults or one very fat and happy Mobe to sprawl out in and float in her trance and sleep soaking in rose and eucalyptus oils. I am infatuated with bathrooms and kitchens! I rarely inhabit my own living room and prefer to "live" in my bedroom and to play in my kitchen and to meditate in the bath!

So the great wall of Mobe will fall by the end of next week(hopefully)and the era of a hoarder shall wane. My pots and pans will get boxed up and put in storage and along with them most of my dishes and furniture outside of beds and bookcases. I keep telling myself we will be happy, and for the most part believe it, but I am also worried I might have to be there forever and never see my things again! lol I still have stuff in storage that my wonderful ex hubby to be, number 3, wouldn't help me get and unpack. I hate it...I never wanted to have 3 sets of dishes and such but it gets piled up. Funny how you can live a life with someone and what you want matters not to the point of each of you amassing too many repeat things! Putting them in storage and then needing something immediately, but not having access, it was always just quicker to go to "Uncle" Wally's(Walmart)and get what was missing but not lost!

This week there is no time to feel sorry for myself and do nothing. My bedroom is first and then so on and so forth! If I make it through over half the house then off to the grocers to get me a good belly ache and a happy tongue as my reward!(the things I do for chocolat!) lol~mobe's love to you all and her all to her loves...anybody wanna help?(free pint of B n J's if they come and stay the week and help me knock this out!-don't worry includes meals and a couch and company too, and if you're cute who knows...lmao)

Wonderful Dreams

I wonder if there's someone who can hear my every thought,
do they see something deep inside that think I am or not?
I wonder what I should've said or did or know to be
what they would like me to instead I wish they'd let me see.

I dream at night of days ahead and gone by morning's sun;
of ships that float on timid seas and carnivals of fun.
I dream because I'm mostly sad and in them I control
the loves and hopes and wishes and wants of every mortal soul.

No one can tell me when to wake or what to say and do
nor can they raise a hand I think if I don't continue too.
No one can bother or break my spell for I am in trance alone
and under such cruel circumstance I rule as one on throne.

Where are my subjects when I'm awake and when shall they arrive
to please me so, not much, it takes a jester's tumble or his dive?
Where are my sparklies that I wear when it's time for me to go
and how come they disappear at light like little flakes of snow?

You see right now what fun it is but not a life for all
this dreaming state is quite full bliss, such a majestic ball.
You see right here where my head had lain the indent is still deep
from troubled mind to faeri tales I drew up in my sleep.

The hour is nigh for one more view of what my life could been
if only dreams were truer so what would we dream of then?
The hour is up and high time it is for there's many things to do
no longer sleepy tasks at hand there's always life for you.