I'm an elitist. There, I said it. I hold my nose up at all that does not agree with the order of things and how I perceive them. But here's the shocking news. Everyone is elitist. Even the homeless. They walk through the streets balking at people who donate and "don't give enough" and have disdain for all things not of their realm. It is the nature of all creatures. It is necessary in order to create the duress that sparks change and imagination. The need to recreate or procreate a certain venture instills in all living things the need for elitism. And we all know that elitism begets strife and wars and as a result, plagues and pestilence. It is the circle of life that cannot change. I think ours is not strong enough and lacking, stagnant.
All things shall come to pass that on the day they are born they are destined to end at some given moment in time. We cry and fuss about it all but it doesn't change a thing. Religion gives up hope eternal for some everlasting nirvana that may or may not exist for us all, and deludes the minds of the weak in its oppressive factors. I feel for the needs of many to have a device such as religion to protect their fears and create new ones in them. Talk about elitism in its highest form! Religion is one of the most disdainful professions in that you cannot do this and not do that and not say this and not say that, but if we were created in the image of a higher power with free will and the capability to "do" these things, then why in the hell shouldn't we? Because the religious elite who were organized in early civilization by then tribal leaders to impress upon the fears of many in a collective force in order to compel them, as a whole, to create or bring about a desired but predicted change to the mutual likings of the "elite" as they saw it. How else would you explain a mother's capability to sacrifice her young, yes...I am aware there are some heinous bitches out there not fit for humanity but I'm not talking about them. They found tribal children buried, mummified in tombs within the crevasse of volcanoes so as to be "smoked" and preserved\, completely unintentional I believe, but as offerings to the gods in order to bring rain or stop war or some other shit they could work around themselves had they tried hard enough. One of these was a teenage girl and not all the children were related. The journey itself had to be with the accompaniment of one or both parents and a guard and holy man as well. The parent had to trek with their child for MONTHS to get to the destination of sacrifice and then to serve the child their last drink which brought about sleep and wrap them and bury them alive inside the hip of the volcano and then trek another several MONTHS back. Elitist brainwashing.
So I see these things and wonder why things come to pass and I think of myself amongst Plato and Aristotle and Mobius and even Roosevelt. I see the future and it looks mighty dark from where I sit and I know the needed moves to change it. Like a chess game. I am so sure of myself but this is a very very BIG chess game and I cannot in my own power move the pieces to where they should be. Call me an idiot savant and slap my ass. But people do need to wake up and look at the whole of the fruit and not just the bite they left their mark in. I am an elitist BECAUSE I see the big picture and feel so helpless and am witnessing the downfall of a once great species. It has been over fifty years since someone has come up with a new idea and new technology that will better mankind in the next century. Computers were invented way back before most of you reading were even out of diapers. So were automobiles and communication handheld devices. No new ideas...even nuclear fission energy and uses were there in the living rooms of every Howdy Doody watching tot, sixty years ago. Nothing is new except the total lack of ambition and fortitude of mankind. So answer me this...when someone said the meek shall inherit the earth were they talking about me? my wolven friends? my winged cousins?...we shall see as our numbers have been increasing while yours haven't. Think about it while I sip my espresso and bite a knob off some exotic, dark, bitter chocolat and spend some quality time educating and arming myself for the big picture. *takes long draw from her cigarette and lets the smoke swirl about her amazing red mane and smiles wickedly...~mobe's love for her all and her all for her loves.
Tuesday, March 29, 2011
Monday, March 28, 2011
Visions of War
can there ever be a time when we can sit and be content in all we eat, drink and do? Dare I see a world reborn out of the violence and hate that has disrupted and perversed the mortal fiber of every man, woman and child? And will there truly be rest for the wicked?
I dream of these things when I close my eyes at morning's light. I see ancient peoples taking court as fellows and drinking of the same cup and sharing the bed of happiness. I have a hard time believing my eyes when these things are shown. I try to excuse them as mad wishes to be unfulfilled, but they keep in their urgency to impede upon my will. There have been dreams that have come and gone and I know the nature of these. They will stay with me always until the conditions are met, and I cannot help but feel the ancient beats in my head with the words of the future. War hasn't come to us all; it has been here all the time. Lurking in the shadows and biding its time with the few simple moments it surfaces for air. But things have already come to pass and it is time. All is ready and made so with the help of those who would benefit from the experience. There is to be bloodshed and fighting and a cannibalism of sorts. Many will feel the burn of a thousand centuries as they try to hold onto the past and not allow the future to take its rightful place. There's a man I will aide to his death. I will carry him in a caravan across great mountains from the embrace of foes he once was held in captivity. Only to die in my arms amongst his own people in peace and contemplation and to be born again anew, in the form of his spirit as counsel for the new era, the new age. I have seen this all and it dwells on my mind as to who he is and what purpose there was in saving him to begin with. At one time I felt it was a lost cause, and wasted time. But no more as I know what he signifies as he did when he came to me and spoke to me with all the joy of a loving father who just found his progeny.
It was never the land or the lay of it that bothered me. It was familiar though I had never set foot there in this lifetime. It was home. It was where I belonged and it was what belonged to me and mine. Far to the east and north of my present day birthplace. It stays cold there most all days of the year and even has seaside cliffs that beckon in their caves for me to come and sit amongst my ancestors and talk with them about the new things in this world and the new era taking place. Already there is a union set forth in Europe, and the Asias are still at it as are the Afrikkans with their wars and observances. All the tribes of man are unrested and zombified in their greed. But there, pristine and virgin again and with waters that run from crystals and are more pure than any here now. When the sun dares shine it is only so long as to make food for the low creatures to eat and grow fat to hunt. Nothing is forbidden here as mother lay naked suckling her young on the grasses she bore him and the deer witness her extraordinary form. Birds and insects even seem as though they were kin to me and all the creatures of this seaside forest sing one song. Rejoice in one song for the prodigal lord has returned if even to be lain beside his family bones. I was accompanied there by the unwilling. I was unwilling in fear at first but the closer we got home, the more I grew into my own ladenship as the ruler I am so born to be. I was tired. I am tired. He was my father's father's father and was much older than my own half century. I was a mere baby to him and was ready to lay beside him for eternity to talk and discuss and take counsel the young we left behind. I am happy there and this place calls me often. It called to me long before I was sure of who I am and what stock I am from. It called to me to warn me of what is to come and so far has yet to be disproven. It will come to all and I will be ready because it has been shown to me in no other way.~mobe's love for her all and her all for her loves.
I dream of these things when I close my eyes at morning's light. I see ancient peoples taking court as fellows and drinking of the same cup and sharing the bed of happiness. I have a hard time believing my eyes when these things are shown. I try to excuse them as mad wishes to be unfulfilled, but they keep in their urgency to impede upon my will. There have been dreams that have come and gone and I know the nature of these. They will stay with me always until the conditions are met, and I cannot help but feel the ancient beats in my head with the words of the future. War hasn't come to us all; it has been here all the time. Lurking in the shadows and biding its time with the few simple moments it surfaces for air. But things have already come to pass and it is time. All is ready and made so with the help of those who would benefit from the experience. There is to be bloodshed and fighting and a cannibalism of sorts. Many will feel the burn of a thousand centuries as they try to hold onto the past and not allow the future to take its rightful place. There's a man I will aide to his death. I will carry him in a caravan across great mountains from the embrace of foes he once was held in captivity. Only to die in my arms amongst his own people in peace and contemplation and to be born again anew, in the form of his spirit as counsel for the new era, the new age. I have seen this all and it dwells on my mind as to who he is and what purpose there was in saving him to begin with. At one time I felt it was a lost cause, and wasted time. But no more as I know what he signifies as he did when he came to me and spoke to me with all the joy of a loving father who just found his progeny.
It was never the land or the lay of it that bothered me. It was familiar though I had never set foot there in this lifetime. It was home. It was where I belonged and it was what belonged to me and mine. Far to the east and north of my present day birthplace. It stays cold there most all days of the year and even has seaside cliffs that beckon in their caves for me to come and sit amongst my ancestors and talk with them about the new things in this world and the new era taking place. Already there is a union set forth in Europe, and the Asias are still at it as are the Afrikkans with their wars and observances. All the tribes of man are unrested and zombified in their greed. But there, pristine and virgin again and with waters that run from crystals and are more pure than any here now. When the sun dares shine it is only so long as to make food for the low creatures to eat and grow fat to hunt. Nothing is forbidden here as mother lay naked suckling her young on the grasses she bore him and the deer witness her extraordinary form. Birds and insects even seem as though they were kin to me and all the creatures of this seaside forest sing one song. Rejoice in one song for the prodigal lord has returned if even to be lain beside his family bones. I was accompanied there by the unwilling. I was unwilling in fear at first but the closer we got home, the more I grew into my own ladenship as the ruler I am so born to be. I was tired. I am tired. He was my father's father's father and was much older than my own half century. I was a mere baby to him and was ready to lay beside him for eternity to talk and discuss and take counsel the young we left behind. I am happy there and this place calls me often. It called to me long before I was sure of who I am and what stock I am from. It called to me to warn me of what is to come and so far has yet to be disproven. It will come to all and I will be ready because it has been shown to me in no other way.~mobe's love for her all and her all for her loves.
Sunday, March 27, 2011
Passion
the softest of whispers couldn't control the stammering in your chest when I leaned in to kiss your lips one last final goodbye. Tears would fall for decades almost washing away our entwined bodies remembrance from the night before. I loved you then as good as I gave. My breast was upon you heaving in rhythm to the pulsing passion you filled me with. We had no secrets then or now, and I cannot help but pity the end of this journey with you. You know you enjoyed my sweet sojourn and the way my thighs wrapped around your torso so tight as to gently squeeze every breath from your lips as you pushed deeper into me and forced my head backwards in an arcing motion onto the bed and later, the wall. I have never felt more whole in an instant than when your member was inside me searching and probing my core as if searching for my heart to rip it out. You would if I had given the chance, if I had any heart at all and we both know it, love...lover.
Do you remember every bite and suffer so severely the thought of no more? Oh, we had our fun but it was mutual. Every single mark and bruise I allowed you to place on my flesh as you grazed your teeth across my skin and your tongue over my terrain. I enjoyed the taste of your sweat and the low, quiet gutteral sounds from your throat as you sunk yourself into me time and again. There was no place I didn't let you lie within me and you knew how well to make my heated body tremble with pleasure as you spilled all you had in you, in me. Fret not in the last supper you got my dear. You took what you wanted and left what you could. I, however, am still bearing the bruised muscles of our love making. Before we met this evening I was lain in the shower and letting the hot steamy stingers tantalize my white skin as I slid my hand to where you had been and let my dampened hair fall all about me like a deep blood red wreath. I came, not once or twice or three times but many remembering your deep kisses and the flick of your tongue as buried into every canal my body yielded to you. My lust was full this evening and the scent of you makes it stronger still, but I cannot, will not continue with you. I must go on and so shall you with nothing more than the vivid memories that will wane, for you, in time. You will not feel as bad as you will lament now and take comfort that I spared you more hurt than you could possibly fathom down the road. Your gift and the pleasures we brought out in each other will never be forgotten on my mind.~mobe's love to her all and her all to her loves.
Do you remember every bite and suffer so severely the thought of no more? Oh, we had our fun but it was mutual. Every single mark and bruise I allowed you to place on my flesh as you grazed your teeth across my skin and your tongue over my terrain. I enjoyed the taste of your sweat and the low, quiet gutteral sounds from your throat as you sunk yourself into me time and again. There was no place I didn't let you lie within me and you knew how well to make my heated body tremble with pleasure as you spilled all you had in you, in me. Fret not in the last supper you got my dear. You took what you wanted and left what you could. I, however, am still bearing the bruised muscles of our love making. Before we met this evening I was lain in the shower and letting the hot steamy stingers tantalize my white skin as I slid my hand to where you had been and let my dampened hair fall all about me like a deep blood red wreath. I came, not once or twice or three times but many remembering your deep kisses and the flick of your tongue as buried into every canal my body yielded to you. My lust was full this evening and the scent of you makes it stronger still, but I cannot, will not continue with you. I must go on and so shall you with nothing more than the vivid memories that will wane, for you, in time. You will not feel as bad as you will lament now and take comfort that I spared you more hurt than you could possibly fathom down the road. Your gift and the pleasures we brought out in each other will never be forgotten on my mind.~mobe's love to her all and her all to her loves.
Saturday, March 26, 2011
This Isn't a Tale
is there any coincidence that one would be called to arms when they are in retirement or at their final days? Why do the fates do this to people, to me? My needs have always outweighed my wants and they always make you an offer you just cannot pass up. A general gets one last theatre and I will have mine too I guess. And knowing how they love to kid and joke, I will do the groundwork and not be allowed to stick around for the big show, but I have gotten used to that fact and don't mind as I will leave my work in the capable hands of another who won't fail me.
There is a stir in the peoples here. Fighting and decimation has broke out as well as natural occurrences showing a change is coming and swiftly. Mind you, swiftly doesn't mean to me what it does to you, but I wouldn't be surprised to find the world plummeted into darkness through the end of this ordeal. It has been written as much and imprinted on the minds of those of us who are in the need of knowing. Everyone knows how I long to be rid of this place and to retire permanently, and everyone knows how life can reach up and slap you in the face and tell you to go to hell. I am ready and getting more ready for what they have in store and I suggest you all do the same. These wars in the east will find their way yet again to our shores and will force the meek and mild to make a stand. When the lights go out who will see for you in the darkness and guide you through? When the cold sets in and there is no food for fodder how will they all survive? They won't but the chosen and the gods don't give a damn who has a golden ticket for the train ride or not kiddies. They don't care if your suit is made of the finest silk and your shoes of the choicest hide. You all will need to take arms and decide how this world will move forward. It will be fundamentally a choice and agreement on all sides and there will be those chosen as ambassadors for change and a new order.
I know it gets old ringing the bell of doom. I know that's what most people think of it. I don't. I just feel I have a more expansive breadth of knowledge and understanding of the things to come. For far too long people have shoved their faces in money and the sand in the hopes of looking for a better way of life all the while bringing down the quality of life for almost ninety percent of the rest of the world's peoples, more so for the critters too. Now it will come to an end. Not a total end or obliteration but an end to the way things have been run for some time. Equality can be gained. You'll see.~mobe's love to her all and her all to her loves.
There is a stir in the peoples here. Fighting and decimation has broke out as well as natural occurrences showing a change is coming and swiftly. Mind you, swiftly doesn't mean to me what it does to you, but I wouldn't be surprised to find the world plummeted into darkness through the end of this ordeal. It has been written as much and imprinted on the minds of those of us who are in the need of knowing. Everyone knows how I long to be rid of this place and to retire permanently, and everyone knows how life can reach up and slap you in the face and tell you to go to hell. I am ready and getting more ready for what they have in store and I suggest you all do the same. These wars in the east will find their way yet again to our shores and will force the meek and mild to make a stand. When the lights go out who will see for you in the darkness and guide you through? When the cold sets in and there is no food for fodder how will they all survive? They won't but the chosen and the gods don't give a damn who has a golden ticket for the train ride or not kiddies. They don't care if your suit is made of the finest silk and your shoes of the choicest hide. You all will need to take arms and decide how this world will move forward. It will be fundamentally a choice and agreement on all sides and there will be those chosen as ambassadors for change and a new order.
I know it gets old ringing the bell of doom. I know that's what most people think of it. I don't. I just feel I have a more expansive breadth of knowledge and understanding of the things to come. For far too long people have shoved their faces in money and the sand in the hopes of looking for a better way of life all the while bringing down the quality of life for almost ninety percent of the rest of the world's peoples, more so for the critters too. Now it will come to an end. Not a total end or obliteration but an end to the way things have been run for some time. Equality can be gained. You'll see.~mobe's love to her all and her all to her loves.
Angels with Horns
angelic are the lashes of every single child who slumbers contended. My niece is napping on this big bed while I write to you and the family resemblance is uncanny when they are unconscious. she reminds me so much of her older cousin. Angelic is definitely the word that comes to mind, but by wakes eye openers, she's a demon for sure!
Don't get me wrong. They all are. Lobo was the sweetest tot when asleep and even quite behaved out in public but a heathen at home to me. This little monkey is a heathen 24/7 like her father was and into everything. I can't stay mad at her because when she is in a good mood it erases all the precocious antics she committed out of curiosity. She is a beautiful kid. Most are and I wonder fondly how she will fare as she gets older and becomes jaded as did her cousins. We all do. At some points in our lives the righteous and diligent goodness in us yields temporarily to the heathen that will rob your grandmother of her knickers if given half the chance. I don't recall ever having slept so soundly. Not as a youth anyways and am glad she is so comfortable with me. Of course she has her father and mother fooled for her preference is them as it should be and she carries on like a victim of heinous crimes involved against nature when I fetch her to my room to allow them a break to accomplish put aside tasks. Just today she ran and clung to her father's leg like I was King Kong and I was going to snatch her up and climb a tall building and deny her access. Tears broke his heart and I assured him she will be fine in a matter of minutes. Only it was more like seconds and he wasn't even around to notice as he headed outside to do some yard work. I get a big kick out of the fact they don't believe me and how she will carry on again the next time forever scarring my good reputation and name with my brother and her mother. And I will forgive her again when she comes up to me tonight and gives me her sweet little kisses and hugs that tell me I do matter after all.
As for the demon side of things. I enjoy those moments too. My own little demon makes me so proud to see her defending her own even when she knows I will intervene to keep her honest in her endeavors. She butts heads so often with her uncle and neither he nor she realizes how much alike they are. Both thinking they are superior to the other when we all know I am top kitty around here! (lol) I seem to manage to draw a great deal of attention to myself when I am at my worst so I guess I earn the stripes I get. and Lobo does this easily too. Either way I have come to embrace my own inner demons and let them roam free from time to time but with close supervision so as not to create much fuss with the natives. I look forward to tomorrow and the many moods of the wee one and my own wee one as well.~mobe's love to her all and her all to her loves.
Don't get me wrong. They all are. Lobo was the sweetest tot when asleep and even quite behaved out in public but a heathen at home to me. This little monkey is a heathen 24/7 like her father was and into everything. I can't stay mad at her because when she is in a good mood it erases all the precocious antics she committed out of curiosity. She is a beautiful kid. Most are and I wonder fondly how she will fare as she gets older and becomes jaded as did her cousins. We all do. At some points in our lives the righteous and diligent goodness in us yields temporarily to the heathen that will rob your grandmother of her knickers if given half the chance. I don't recall ever having slept so soundly. Not as a youth anyways and am glad she is so comfortable with me. Of course she has her father and mother fooled for her preference is them as it should be and she carries on like a victim of heinous crimes involved against nature when I fetch her to my room to allow them a break to accomplish put aside tasks. Just today she ran and clung to her father's leg like I was King Kong and I was going to snatch her up and climb a tall building and deny her access. Tears broke his heart and I assured him she will be fine in a matter of minutes. Only it was more like seconds and he wasn't even around to notice as he headed outside to do some yard work. I get a big kick out of the fact they don't believe me and how she will carry on again the next time forever scarring my good reputation and name with my brother and her mother. And I will forgive her again when she comes up to me tonight and gives me her sweet little kisses and hugs that tell me I do matter after all.
As for the demon side of things. I enjoy those moments too. My own little demon makes me so proud to see her defending her own even when she knows I will intervene to keep her honest in her endeavors. She butts heads so often with her uncle and neither he nor she realizes how much alike they are. Both thinking they are superior to the other when we all know I am top kitty around here! (lol) I seem to manage to draw a great deal of attention to myself when I am at my worst so I guess I earn the stripes I get. and Lobo does this easily too. Either way I have come to embrace my own inner demons and let them roam free from time to time but with close supervision so as not to create much fuss with the natives. I look forward to tomorrow and the many moods of the wee one and my own wee one as well.~mobe's love to her all and her all to her loves.
Thursday, March 24, 2011
Random Delusions
I dwell where I lay my head and I dream no matter where I be. I reside in a state of mind that no one else can see. Housing my disease is a temple of the gods and holding my attention is the wandering lust of ambition. Such is my discord.
I been watching too much old movies lately. I can recite most of them and just feel so dreamy in the costume and wardrobes of the ladies as well as the fine threads the men wear. I like the randomness but question it still.
Today is a day of unplanned execution and I am determined to execute and put to rest my disturbed alimentary canal or suffer trying.
Not one bird was heard chirping today outside my window. Have they abandoned me too or did I offend them in my disgraced physical state and scare them off?
My "hubby" got sick today and I had to suck up my own discomfort to ease his. Poor creature done ate himself too much yummy kitty kibble and wound up regurgitating the rest and then guarding it with dear life as leftovers for later, ick!
Foul is the excrement that comes out of a teenagers mouth before you can finish explaining your unhappiness with their misbehavior.
I have excused her time and again and will do so happily long after you cease to matter because she IS flesh of my flesh and blood of my bone.
Cats are meowing in the distance...I wonder if they ate the morning birds?
Why is it the dogs with the longest and strongest legs are the ones that want to jump on your legs and leave little paw print bruises?
It's conditioning when the student doesn't want to learn and torture when you make them. Plain and simple.
When you want to eat and can't and don't want to but know you must and later find that it would have been better to chew and old shoe, then you know you're getting old.
Chocolate chip cookies are great right out of the oven but even more devilish the colder they get. Like when you put a huge dollop of french vanilla ice cream in between two of those perfect little sweet discs and lick away!
Amazing what a hot tub of water and oil can do for the stress of the day. Even more amazing when there's a glass of wine and some candles and soft classical music, sans opera, playing quietly in the background.
It's no fair to be so sick that when you wretch you poop and when you poop you wretch and then you're too afraid to accept help and you're lying there thinking you should'a just climbed in the tub and let it ride!
I put in the water like they tell me. I drink all I can but I think the water is out to get me. It keeps coming out my nose and when I pee and even out areas I didn't think could water the porcelain garden.
Doctor asked if I have seen spots. I replied no but "Muffin" is outside in the yard digging up his prized rosebush.
The only therapy I need right now can't be bought. But I can steal some ice and a hot cup of tea and a nap.
Bed is the comfort zone of the professional narcoleptic.
Whoever invented indoor air conditioning should have invented a time machine to come back here right now so I can kiss them.
My mood is absent today. So is my body and my sense of humor.
I am tired and, well, out of delusions.~mobe's love to her all and her all to her loves.
I been watching too much old movies lately. I can recite most of them and just feel so dreamy in the costume and wardrobes of the ladies as well as the fine threads the men wear. I like the randomness but question it still.
Today is a day of unplanned execution and I am determined to execute and put to rest my disturbed alimentary canal or suffer trying.
Not one bird was heard chirping today outside my window. Have they abandoned me too or did I offend them in my disgraced physical state and scare them off?
My "hubby" got sick today and I had to suck up my own discomfort to ease his. Poor creature done ate himself too much yummy kitty kibble and wound up regurgitating the rest and then guarding it with dear life as leftovers for later, ick!
Foul is the excrement that comes out of a teenagers mouth before you can finish explaining your unhappiness with their misbehavior.
I have excused her time and again and will do so happily long after you cease to matter because she IS flesh of my flesh and blood of my bone.
Cats are meowing in the distance...I wonder if they ate the morning birds?
Why is it the dogs with the longest and strongest legs are the ones that want to jump on your legs and leave little paw print bruises?
It's conditioning when the student doesn't want to learn and torture when you make them. Plain and simple.
When you want to eat and can't and don't want to but know you must and later find that it would have been better to chew and old shoe, then you know you're getting old.
Chocolate chip cookies are great right out of the oven but even more devilish the colder they get. Like when you put a huge dollop of french vanilla ice cream in between two of those perfect little sweet discs and lick away!
Amazing what a hot tub of water and oil can do for the stress of the day. Even more amazing when there's a glass of wine and some candles and soft classical music, sans opera, playing quietly in the background.
It's no fair to be so sick that when you wretch you poop and when you poop you wretch and then you're too afraid to accept help and you're lying there thinking you should'a just climbed in the tub and let it ride!
I put in the water like they tell me. I drink all I can but I think the water is out to get me. It keeps coming out my nose and when I pee and even out areas I didn't think could water the porcelain garden.
Doctor asked if I have seen spots. I replied no but "Muffin" is outside in the yard digging up his prized rosebush.
The only therapy I need right now can't be bought. But I can steal some ice and a hot cup of tea and a nap.
Bed is the comfort zone of the professional narcoleptic.
Whoever invented indoor air conditioning should have invented a time machine to come back here right now so I can kiss them.
My mood is absent today. So is my body and my sense of humor.
I am tired and, well, out of delusions.~mobe's love to her all and her all to her loves.
A Day Off
quiet times are upon us for the moment. Hookie is a fun game when you are a school age pup. Not all parents will let their kids play hookie and these same parents will take random days off from work to go fishing or to a sale at the mall or some other personal business or adventure. I allow my kid moments like this. Why? Because she does work hard, if even with a little lip service to boot.
In a blended family we cannot see why one does one thing and another doesn't/ I am sorry for this fact because it appears that in the blending of the family I am in, I always am the odd man out in my decisions and such. I miss the days when we lived alone and I didn't have to atone for my choices in how I raise her. She's a good kid really. She deserves a day to take a break or a reward even if it is at night. Whereas most parents that do entertain the idea of giving their kid a day off tend to spend it outdoors or on a mini one day vacation, my kid and I spend her one day with a little rest and relaxation. It teaches her to spend a little quality time on herself and with her condition when she gets older, it will be warranted. Note, as a working stiff I rarely indulged in these days and it may have been my downfall not to as I felt like I was burning my candle shop from the ground up and from the roof down! Laurel needs to learn balance, and if that means a little wickedness comes along with the good nature then so be it. I would rather the wickedness to be carefully selected such as a "free" day than tossing frogs like I did when I was a kid. You can never appreciate what you have if it's all glorious nor if it is all misery. Gee mom, why did that rich kid kill himself when he had so much to live for? Money doesn't buy nor create happiness.
Sure the kid had two parents. Dad was always gone on a business trip amassing and worshiping the almighty dollar and definitely too busy to toss a ball or read a book. Mom filled her days with PTAs and Women's clubs and such and shopping with the girls. When they got older they wanted to fill their own voids and had all the greatest babysitters and nannies money can buy and propped their kids in social organizations like their own or sports arenas where the kids soon come to realize all the video games in the world won't tuck them in bed at night or kiss their foreheads with the reassurance and love of a tender mom or dad. Kids need structured time for academics and play and physical exercise and meditation. Not set television time and off to granny's house or over to "Billy's" house so his mom can keep track while I go try on a swimsuit with the girls for my upcoming trip to Cabos with my hubby when he pries himself away from that gorgeous nineteen year old secretary. I feel for these families and it reinforces my day off every now and then when my kid and I just sit and talk or do nothing but sleep and watch a meaningful program together, maybe even go to the movies come nightfall. Laurel had her day off. She spent it sleeping and catching up, which she obviously needed and it made her much more appreciative of going back to school the next day. She will catch up her missed work and I will heal (sick again I am afraid and not sure I want to tell her as it makes twice in one week). and we will get caught in another rut which she will need a day off from in the next month or so. I love her and I hope she remembers not just that I gave her days off but also why. Or at least asks me why.~mobe's love to her all and her all to her loves.
In a blended family we cannot see why one does one thing and another doesn't/ I am sorry for this fact because it appears that in the blending of the family I am in, I always am the odd man out in my decisions and such. I miss the days when we lived alone and I didn't have to atone for my choices in how I raise her. She's a good kid really. She deserves a day to take a break or a reward even if it is at night. Whereas most parents that do entertain the idea of giving their kid a day off tend to spend it outdoors or on a mini one day vacation, my kid and I spend her one day with a little rest and relaxation. It teaches her to spend a little quality time on herself and with her condition when she gets older, it will be warranted. Note, as a working stiff I rarely indulged in these days and it may have been my downfall not to as I felt like I was burning my candle shop from the ground up and from the roof down! Laurel needs to learn balance, and if that means a little wickedness comes along with the good nature then so be it. I would rather the wickedness to be carefully selected such as a "free" day than tossing frogs like I did when I was a kid. You can never appreciate what you have if it's all glorious nor if it is all misery. Gee mom, why did that rich kid kill himself when he had so much to live for? Money doesn't buy nor create happiness.
Sure the kid had two parents. Dad was always gone on a business trip amassing and worshiping the almighty dollar and definitely too busy to toss a ball or read a book. Mom filled her days with PTAs and Women's clubs and such and shopping with the girls. When they got older they wanted to fill their own voids and had all the greatest babysitters and nannies money can buy and propped their kids in social organizations like their own or sports arenas where the kids soon come to realize all the video games in the world won't tuck them in bed at night or kiss their foreheads with the reassurance and love of a tender mom or dad. Kids need structured time for academics and play and physical exercise and meditation. Not set television time and off to granny's house or over to "Billy's" house so his mom can keep track while I go try on a swimsuit with the girls for my upcoming trip to Cabos with my hubby when he pries himself away from that gorgeous nineteen year old secretary. I feel for these families and it reinforces my day off every now and then when my kid and I just sit and talk or do nothing but sleep and watch a meaningful program together, maybe even go to the movies come nightfall. Laurel had her day off. She spent it sleeping and catching up, which she obviously needed and it made her much more appreciative of going back to school the next day. She will catch up her missed work and I will heal (sick again I am afraid and not sure I want to tell her as it makes twice in one week). and we will get caught in another rut which she will need a day off from in the next month or so. I love her and I hope she remembers not just that I gave her days off but also why. Or at least asks me why.~mobe's love to her all and her all to her loves.
Tuesday, March 22, 2011
A Note on Dreams
my eyes doth yield a sleepy state of affairs it doesn't know. I am not tired or worn out but just withered inside and seem to be lobbing off into dreamland again as I do so often to escape all that they have seen. There is too much to behold and yet so little of merit and I just dream better than most live. My dreams are filled with conquests and sorrow and unfinished business from day to day life's journeys. I feel it is just not worth the effort some days to open the poor things as I know what I see will never amount to that my subconscious witnesses. So to be fair, I would rather sleep like Rumpelstiltskin than to wake like the Princess and the Pea after they took the pea out, of course! Eventually, I will have to make a choice, but for now, I am comfy in my decision to not do so.
Why are dreams so captivating? In dreams why are we so much more active that it leaves one sweaty and accomplished and worn out when they awaken? The smell of death lingers on my breathe at first sight. I know I hunt and dance and yell and frolic in my dreams. I am not invincible as I have awoke to find bruises from a journey's discouraging path held fast in my sleep. Trances and such with my eyes even open and can remember vividly the quests I trekked on and the crimes and accomplishments I achieved. All of this so real and not surreal at all. Most would balk at that having little to no recollection of their own. I have walked where wolves have slept to hear them snore. I have even lay beside them to feel the warmth of their matted fur thick with the stench of the night's kills. I enjoyed bathing in a dark moonlit lake with them and admired their duality in their nature. You would have to come along if it were possible, but alas, it isn't as of yet. I want to go there and be a permanent resident. I am pretty much there most days as it is and find my existence there most welcome to those inhabitants regardless of genus. Blissful peace and the circle of life as it should be!~mobe's love to her all and her all to her loves.
Why are dreams so captivating? In dreams why are we so much more active that it leaves one sweaty and accomplished and worn out when they awaken? The smell of death lingers on my breathe at first sight. I know I hunt and dance and yell and frolic in my dreams. I am not invincible as I have awoke to find bruises from a journey's discouraging path held fast in my sleep. Trances and such with my eyes even open and can remember vividly the quests I trekked on and the crimes and accomplishments I achieved. All of this so real and not surreal at all. Most would balk at that having little to no recollection of their own. I have walked where wolves have slept to hear them snore. I have even lay beside them to feel the warmth of their matted fur thick with the stench of the night's kills. I enjoyed bathing in a dark moonlit lake with them and admired their duality in their nature. You would have to come along if it were possible, but alas, it isn't as of yet. I want to go there and be a permanent resident. I am pretty much there most days as it is and find my existence there most welcome to those inhabitants regardless of genus. Blissful peace and the circle of life as it should be!~mobe's love to her all and her all to her loves.
Justification
so the meek shall inherit the earth and inherit it they have. In the name of their fathers and sons and mothers and daughters, only they have abused that privilege and it is getting increasingly difficult to hold back the disdain for all things ignorant!
Today was Lobo's first day with her new Pediatric Hematologist/Oncologist:
THINGS YOU DON'T WANT TO HEAR AT THE DOCTOR'S OFFICE:
1. "I have no idea what to do here.."
2. "You are the first patient I am treating for this, so let's see where this goes..."
3. " I don't have a clue so why don't YOU tell me how to handle this..."
incompetence is everywhere people and don't think for one second that just because someone has a license to practice medicine that they know squat! The two most expensive and educationally required occupations are called "practices" for a reason: Law and Medicine!
I may not have a doctorate or a masters in medicine or law but I have done better with better results than a whole fucking community of legal authorities and practitioners. Legally speaking, I have been married three times and divorced two and a half (still in separation mode and working on the last amicably with him-we're still friends) and never shelled one thin dime towards an attorney and have gotten better results than I had I retained one. And I am called a "lay" person because my mommy and daddy didn't suck the dick of some dean and alumni collegiate to push me into the finer schools! Does this make me incompetent? How many lawyers can state they have a 100% perfect record at "wins"???
As for the medical fields...my record again is impeccable. I have diagnosed friends and even saved a few strangers lives without charging a damn penny. I remember this one guy from a McDonald's that used to sit across from me and he was very sickly and told me about all the trouble his doctors had with his diagnosis. I was nineteen and he was in his fifties. I looked at him and told him he had colon cancer. He was shocked and I was a little taken aback but I was so sure, and a month later after prodding them they gave him his diagnosis: colon cancer. It added up...he couldn't eat, was losing weight faster than a punctured kickball and hadn't had a bowel movement in months. DUH! Then the stupid doctors told him he needed to be "cleaned out" before the operation and the medicine they gave him wouldn't work so they had to reschedule his emergency surgery three times. I wrote him a note with directions for a health foods store and instructions for the things he needed to purchase and within 48hrs he was "cleaned" and had his surgery. I didn't see him for over a month. We all thought the guy was a vagrant because of the bicycle he rode and the clothes he wore. He lived near me and I worked around the corner from the restaurant so us meeting up there was frequent and everyone that worked there knew us as regulars. We used to talk about the banal things like weather and politics and make fun of the employees together over coffee. After the month passed this vibrant and healthy man who resembled my old friend was waiting for me there everyday for a week and he had an expensive car and flowers (fresh everyday I was told) and proposed to me. You see, he had a son. One son. He was married and she died and his kid was being raised by his sister and he was partially mentally ill from a trauma but had all his faculties. He couldn't drive and had a friend drive him there in his car. The man was filthy rich and felt he was indebted to me for saving his live and subsequently his kid's daddy. I cried. He had everything all worked out. He even told me he didn't want his "angel" to work and that it was ok if I wasn't romantic with him. He wanted to take care of me. I wasn't raised to be a kept woman, even if I deserved it or the intentions were noble. I politely told him to take care of himself and walked away having my reward already, knowing again, I was right. He was going to leave me everything of half his estate, the other half going to his eight year old kid. He died ten years later and was worth well over a million dollars. He left my half to science in an "angel" foundation to finding cures for the obscure. His son was proud the day he buried his dad and to this day wonders who that angel was that his father talked about so frequently. He never died of cancer. He died in a horrible bicycle accident. He had reflectors and flags and such but still dressed meekly and someone on a joy ride thought it would be fun to kill a "bag person" or so they thought. I cried again.
I still cry. I cry when I have to do the work of hundreds of so called "learned" individuals who think they are god and above all others because they could afford to spend money to showcase their intellect. I am a brilliant and eccentric and miserable wretch. I toot my horn not because I am a blow-hard but because I am tired of waiting for others to do it for me and even more inappropriate-others taking credit for it! Today my daughter's pediatric hema/onco was flabbergasted that she had inherited Lobo for treatment and assessment and such for her EPP. More annoying was the fact that she seemed "put out" by the fact that I knew more about the disease than she, oh it gets worse, and that there is really nothing wrong in my eyes with us other than that we are genetically superior and are asked to lower OUR standards to living like the rest of the poor helpless and ignorant sheep we call "cousins." Am I pissed?!? You betcha! Who wouldn't be with this? So tell me this...is there any justification in who I am and what I have accomplished? Does it matter? I am not a god fearing woman and I know that whatever the fates have in store for me in front on my godS will be because it already is, time is after all, irrelevant. I am no god or deity. I am a simple creature with basic needs of one which is to live as I am designed. I don't want to be as you are any more than you should want to be me. My life is no walk in the park and neither is yours so let's call it a "pass" and move on. But why can't we live together and be respectful? Is that too much to ask? I already have proven my worth to myself and what matters to me now let me be.~mobe's love to her all and her all to her loves.
Today was Lobo's first day with her new Pediatric Hematologist/Oncologist:
THINGS YOU DON'T WANT TO HEAR AT THE DOCTOR'S OFFICE:
1. "I have no idea what to do here.."
2. "You are the first patient I am treating for this, so let's see where this goes..."
3. " I don't have a clue so why don't YOU tell me how to handle this..."
incompetence is everywhere people and don't think for one second that just because someone has a license to practice medicine that they know squat! The two most expensive and educationally required occupations are called "practices" for a reason: Law and Medicine!
I may not have a doctorate or a masters in medicine or law but I have done better with better results than a whole fucking community of legal authorities and practitioners. Legally speaking, I have been married three times and divorced two and a half (still in separation mode and working on the last amicably with him-we're still friends) and never shelled one thin dime towards an attorney and have gotten better results than I had I retained one. And I am called a "lay" person because my mommy and daddy didn't suck the dick of some dean and alumni collegiate to push me into the finer schools! Does this make me incompetent? How many lawyers can state they have a 100% perfect record at "wins"???
As for the medical fields...my record again is impeccable. I have diagnosed friends and even saved a few strangers lives without charging a damn penny. I remember this one guy from a McDonald's that used to sit across from me and he was very sickly and told me about all the trouble his doctors had with his diagnosis. I was nineteen and he was in his fifties. I looked at him and told him he had colon cancer. He was shocked and I was a little taken aback but I was so sure, and a month later after prodding them they gave him his diagnosis: colon cancer. It added up...he couldn't eat, was losing weight faster than a punctured kickball and hadn't had a bowel movement in months. DUH! Then the stupid doctors told him he needed to be "cleaned out" before the operation and the medicine they gave him wouldn't work so they had to reschedule his emergency surgery three times. I wrote him a note with directions for a health foods store and instructions for the things he needed to purchase and within 48hrs he was "cleaned" and had his surgery. I didn't see him for over a month. We all thought the guy was a vagrant because of the bicycle he rode and the clothes he wore. He lived near me and I worked around the corner from the restaurant so us meeting up there was frequent and everyone that worked there knew us as regulars. We used to talk about the banal things like weather and politics and make fun of the employees together over coffee. After the month passed this vibrant and healthy man who resembled my old friend was waiting for me there everyday for a week and he had an expensive car and flowers (fresh everyday I was told) and proposed to me. You see, he had a son. One son. He was married and she died and his kid was being raised by his sister and he was partially mentally ill from a trauma but had all his faculties. He couldn't drive and had a friend drive him there in his car. The man was filthy rich and felt he was indebted to me for saving his live and subsequently his kid's daddy. I cried. He had everything all worked out. He even told me he didn't want his "angel" to work and that it was ok if I wasn't romantic with him. He wanted to take care of me. I wasn't raised to be a kept woman, even if I deserved it or the intentions were noble. I politely told him to take care of himself and walked away having my reward already, knowing again, I was right. He was going to leave me everything of half his estate, the other half going to his eight year old kid. He died ten years later and was worth well over a million dollars. He left my half to science in an "angel" foundation to finding cures for the obscure. His son was proud the day he buried his dad and to this day wonders who that angel was that his father talked about so frequently. He never died of cancer. He died in a horrible bicycle accident. He had reflectors and flags and such but still dressed meekly and someone on a joy ride thought it would be fun to kill a "bag person" or so they thought. I cried again.
I still cry. I cry when I have to do the work of hundreds of so called "learned" individuals who think they are god and above all others because they could afford to spend money to showcase their intellect. I am a brilliant and eccentric and miserable wretch. I toot my horn not because I am a blow-hard but because I am tired of waiting for others to do it for me and even more inappropriate-others taking credit for it! Today my daughter's pediatric hema/onco was flabbergasted that she had inherited Lobo for treatment and assessment and such for her EPP. More annoying was the fact that she seemed "put out" by the fact that I knew more about the disease than she, oh it gets worse, and that there is really nothing wrong in my eyes with us other than that we are genetically superior and are asked to lower OUR standards to living like the rest of the poor helpless and ignorant sheep we call "cousins." Am I pissed?!? You betcha! Who wouldn't be with this? So tell me this...is there any justification in who I am and what I have accomplished? Does it matter? I am not a god fearing woman and I know that whatever the fates have in store for me in front on my godS will be because it already is, time is after all, irrelevant. I am no god or deity. I am a simple creature with basic needs of one which is to live as I am designed. I don't want to be as you are any more than you should want to be me. My life is no walk in the park and neither is yours so let's call it a "pass" and move on. But why can't we live together and be respectful? Is that too much to ask? I already have proven my worth to myself and what matters to me now let me be.~mobe's love to her all and her all to her loves.
Sunday, March 20, 2011
The Bitch in Me
we all have our moments whether we are truthful or not. I have mine and I share them with you. I ask nothing in return and I give nothing in kind and today, of all days, I care not.
The bitch in me dictates all I see and gives status to convey I'm a bitch every day. There is no apology or social politeness to give for what I am is what I be. I like me this way. It's been too long since I declared a rightful war on mankind, or womankind, as it were. Just a second more might have pushed me to things you would regret, but I would have simply enjoyed them at best. The bitch in me makes me foul out loud to the fuckers and losers and faces in the crowd. The bitch in me has a special place in my heart for the beatings and the bashings of all that take part. Can anyone be so sick and yet carry on? Can the bitch in me turn angelic and forget all I've done? I think not and don't give a damn! It's the bitch in me, yep that's what I am. Delusions it will be said and insane called upon too. And the bitch in me will still rant as the bitches always do. So I say here now and not for the last time. The bitch in me is fed up and tired and sick and over it and not listening and doesn't care and won't help you and dares and is enjoying your pain as well as your demise. It's the bitch in me clearly, not some evil disguise. So if you have want or desire or whim, tell some other fool for the Bitch is now in!~mobe's love to her all and her all to her loves.
The bitch in me dictates all I see and gives status to convey I'm a bitch every day. There is no apology or social politeness to give for what I am is what I be. I like me this way. It's been too long since I declared a rightful war on mankind, or womankind, as it were. Just a second more might have pushed me to things you would regret, but I would have simply enjoyed them at best. The bitch in me makes me foul out loud to the fuckers and losers and faces in the crowd. The bitch in me has a special place in my heart for the beatings and the bashings of all that take part. Can anyone be so sick and yet carry on? Can the bitch in me turn angelic and forget all I've done? I think not and don't give a damn! It's the bitch in me, yep that's what I am. Delusions it will be said and insane called upon too. And the bitch in me will still rant as the bitches always do. So I say here now and not for the last time. The bitch in me is fed up and tired and sick and over it and not listening and doesn't care and won't help you and dares and is enjoying your pain as well as your demise. It's the bitch in me clearly, not some evil disguise. So if you have want or desire or whim, tell some other fool for the Bitch is now in!~mobe's love to her all and her all to her loves.
Time's Passing
time will tell what lips won't quiver and eyes will not see what fingers thither. A heart will not beat what a drum ekes out and a soul will not reap when a scythe pulls out.
essences of eons and stars in the sky, give way to immortal thoughts on high
but the meekest of mouse is the mightiest of foe when the largest of lions shows up to the show
nothing is the same or will be for too long and no bird will sing on the last day their song
for tis time we all want and all crave down the line, and is time that eludes even the rich when they wine
not a care or a whisper but a spine of iron guild will it "hole" all the water but nary a bridge build
to the needs of the land lover on a distant sea shore who cannot convey from there never more
there is a voice calling loud from up above high in the cloud
and down below the deepest trench to tear my heart with every wrench
this time will leave me soon and foul, for other purpose left on hour
seconds tick and a bead of sweat I wait for lover perhaps perchance
but time does mock the broken femme and teases harshly to do her in
so judge thee not but look on clock or count the chimes on old tick tock
will be your lonely lazy cell to hear those sounds forever hell
as prisoner to old Cronus' bars, in a bottle, on the desk, in the cabinet jars
it maddens me to wait upon any and all for things to abate and people to call
the sound of it causes such pain and ill will, I had enough of it all I'm up to my fill
silence is craved in abundance today not a moment to soon for this woman's melee
absolute quiet from time's taunting hands in a room full of black with no reprimands
or excuses to tell and apologies too just the passing so quietly of life in the room
without mercy or mirth or come uppance deserved there is a place for me and I'm sure it's reserved
where time once had captured what man could no longer hold, is I, is me, I am so bold
to dare stick out tongue and flick it the bird, so to have final stance and last giving word
and I sit in my tomb with a wry sickly smile when the rest of you sheep shall wonder all the while
is she sane? will she heal if given enough time? but too late, not so sad, she's gone-sublime
~mobe's love to her all and her all to her loves.
essences of eons and stars in the sky, give way to immortal thoughts on high
but the meekest of mouse is the mightiest of foe when the largest of lions shows up to the show
nothing is the same or will be for too long and no bird will sing on the last day their song
for tis time we all want and all crave down the line, and is time that eludes even the rich when they wine
not a care or a whisper but a spine of iron guild will it "hole" all the water but nary a bridge build
to the needs of the land lover on a distant sea shore who cannot convey from there never more
there is a voice calling loud from up above high in the cloud
and down below the deepest trench to tear my heart with every wrench
this time will leave me soon and foul, for other purpose left on hour
seconds tick and a bead of sweat I wait for lover perhaps perchance
but time does mock the broken femme and teases harshly to do her in
so judge thee not but look on clock or count the chimes on old tick tock
will be your lonely lazy cell to hear those sounds forever hell
as prisoner to old Cronus' bars, in a bottle, on the desk, in the cabinet jars
it maddens me to wait upon any and all for things to abate and people to call
the sound of it causes such pain and ill will, I had enough of it all I'm up to my fill
silence is craved in abundance today not a moment to soon for this woman's melee
absolute quiet from time's taunting hands in a room full of black with no reprimands
or excuses to tell and apologies too just the passing so quietly of life in the room
without mercy or mirth or come uppance deserved there is a place for me and I'm sure it's reserved
where time once had captured what man could no longer hold, is I, is me, I am so bold
to dare stick out tongue and flick it the bird, so to have final stance and last giving word
and I sit in my tomb with a wry sickly smile when the rest of you sheep shall wonder all the while
is she sane? will she heal if given enough time? but too late, not so sad, she's gone-sublime
~mobe's love to her all and her all to her loves.
Profound Change
I witnessed change from a baby today. Actually, she has been changing all along, but she reminded me of the days gone by when I would watch for every indicator of Laurel's own metamorphoses. There are more than science would have you believe and very few parents really take notice of these rare celebratory moments.
Rare indeed to be seen but oh so common in occurrence. My niece has been a fit to date. By fit I mean to say that as long as I have known her in speaking terms, she has been a "terrible two" and full of piss and vinegar. Mind you I have also learned her ways and how to approach the precocious tot as she has learned my ways as well. I am not as easy to bowl over as her own parents and I think she understands the world a little better through my eyes and example. Her parents are still gods in her eyes as it would be expected to be and I am merely an enchanting devil who amuses her at times and also is quick to torment her. Now before you get all in a tiff about an older adult bullying a youth, understand that is only how she perceives it, though I will cop to a rare moment when we have all had enough of "her highness" and I will tug a lock of hair or mock faces in her strife to remind her the world doesn't evolve around her many actressing ploys. Overall she's a good kid and like all children she has grown accustomed to the environment she lives in and how its dynamics work right down to manipulation for her own benefit. Her parents, my brother and his girlfriend, don't always agree and each is quick to accuse the other of some foolish infraction while they both are committing the same parental mistakes and the little miss takes advantage of every opportunity. I see right through this and make a point of bringing most of it to light, not all because even tots are allowed to have a break from rules and regulations. Today, marked a great change gone unnoticed by their squabbling.
She has been sick as of late with a stomach irritation and growth spurt. All kids go through them and some are barely noticeable as this one was. Beyond the ability to hold down food, due to her body being occupied trying to get things in order for the "big developments," she was even more irritable. She also was quite content with sticking to her own bedtime and little fuss about naps. Her most profound change had been her voice. The chords of her voice are thickening this time around and the cutesy squeak we have come to loathe when she is miserable has passed to more vocabulary and a deeper resonance. She is aware of her own change and has been chatty and talkative as she rather enjoys being able to articulate better and more audibly. She has been practicing her language alone, just as her older cousin had, in the solitude of her room when no one is listening, or so she thinks. Her walk is more stable and her wants are few as she is now accustomed to better discipline and all around I like her more. As much as it is stressful to be here when I am accustomed to my lone existence with my own almost adult daughter, I think it has done her well for me to be here as another example to her about fairness, sharing and behavior that is proper. Before I wouldn't have taken her out in public for all the tea in China and now, I believe she will behave almost like a young lady is to be expected, excepting when she is over tired. It's a shame her parents missed the opportunity to encourage her and applause the milestone with her. I can't blame them really as most parents that get caught up in the daily activity of life do miss these things, and I having so much free time to examine the mundane never fail to notice. Like a scientist observing a tribe of aboriginals and only interfering in the slightest. She knows my dominance and is yielding more and I look forward to helping and encouraging more milestones as long as the fates allow.
Take notice of the wee ones. Don't disregard the little intricacies that come their way and cherish each one as they do. She will never speak like she did a few days ago. Her walk will never be so wobbly as it once had been and she is a little more independent each and every day.~mobe's love to her all and her all to her loves.
Rare indeed to be seen but oh so common in occurrence. My niece has been a fit to date. By fit I mean to say that as long as I have known her in speaking terms, she has been a "terrible two" and full of piss and vinegar. Mind you I have also learned her ways and how to approach the precocious tot as she has learned my ways as well. I am not as easy to bowl over as her own parents and I think she understands the world a little better through my eyes and example. Her parents are still gods in her eyes as it would be expected to be and I am merely an enchanting devil who amuses her at times and also is quick to torment her. Now before you get all in a tiff about an older adult bullying a youth, understand that is only how she perceives it, though I will cop to a rare moment when we have all had enough of "her highness" and I will tug a lock of hair or mock faces in her strife to remind her the world doesn't evolve around her many actressing ploys. Overall she's a good kid and like all children she has grown accustomed to the environment she lives in and how its dynamics work right down to manipulation for her own benefit. Her parents, my brother and his girlfriend, don't always agree and each is quick to accuse the other of some foolish infraction while they both are committing the same parental mistakes and the little miss takes advantage of every opportunity. I see right through this and make a point of bringing most of it to light, not all because even tots are allowed to have a break from rules and regulations. Today, marked a great change gone unnoticed by their squabbling.
She has been sick as of late with a stomach irritation and growth spurt. All kids go through them and some are barely noticeable as this one was. Beyond the ability to hold down food, due to her body being occupied trying to get things in order for the "big developments," she was even more irritable. She also was quite content with sticking to her own bedtime and little fuss about naps. Her most profound change had been her voice. The chords of her voice are thickening this time around and the cutesy squeak we have come to loathe when she is miserable has passed to more vocabulary and a deeper resonance. She is aware of her own change and has been chatty and talkative as she rather enjoys being able to articulate better and more audibly. She has been practicing her language alone, just as her older cousin had, in the solitude of her room when no one is listening, or so she thinks. Her walk is more stable and her wants are few as she is now accustomed to better discipline and all around I like her more. As much as it is stressful to be here when I am accustomed to my lone existence with my own almost adult daughter, I think it has done her well for me to be here as another example to her about fairness, sharing and behavior that is proper. Before I wouldn't have taken her out in public for all the tea in China and now, I believe she will behave almost like a young lady is to be expected, excepting when she is over tired. It's a shame her parents missed the opportunity to encourage her and applause the milestone with her. I can't blame them really as most parents that get caught up in the daily activity of life do miss these things, and I having so much free time to examine the mundane never fail to notice. Like a scientist observing a tribe of aboriginals and only interfering in the slightest. She knows my dominance and is yielding more and I look forward to helping and encouraging more milestones as long as the fates allow.
Take notice of the wee ones. Don't disregard the little intricacies that come their way and cherish each one as they do. She will never speak like she did a few days ago. Her walk will never be so wobbly as it once had been and she is a little more independent each and every day.~mobe's love to her all and her all to her loves.
Friday, March 18, 2011
Individuals: Part 15
the sickly taste hasn't left me yet. Like a wild dog in the forest I will purge and examine what remains of the day in my gall and then leave the steaming mess to fertilize a new day. My stomach is turning in its own stew and reeks of sewage and backed up stress placed upon my shoulders. Shudder and tremors take my muscles and tighten them to a coil of duress and I want to hurl, I need to, but I won't. To do so would be to admit I am dying and to admit in jest is one thing but under the stress of truth is another.
I have wanted death to play cards at my table and I suppose it would have been nice if he would be a pleasant visit in the day's sleep like all creatures pray for. But this foul sulphur erupting from my body's caverns leaves me to believe that there are other more painful bouts I will have at the black jack table with the cloaked one. I know my organs are already dead and need puppetry to force my will upon them and it sickens me even more, mentally, to know I have to coerce my own temple to host my soul. Damned I am and I didn't even do a deed in this lifetime to warrant it but that's ok by me. I know full well I have added much to atone for through the journeys of my past and will do so proud with my head held high. My vanity escapes me as I ponder who can smell the stench rising up my esophagus like the putrid steam of feces rising in the cold night from the city's sewer grills. I feel for the weak of heart and stomach for they cannot help but gag on my every word and fall ill as I ail and am dying. My bloated body does me great injustice as it proves their lies about my kind to be somewhat true. I am the dead walking. I am dying and still bear the strength of any ten men of their kind. I was a bad beast this past few days and did not put on the act of puppetry I needed to to keep my illusion of "living" alive. So I will suffer in silence, except on paper and screen, these next few days as I carefully take count and restitution and make the necessary changes needed to appear, normal.
Normal is a funny word though. I shall never appear normal. In the bloated state I am in I have never appeared normal and only fooled the too stupid to read and irritated at best those who know how bad off I am. I still push forward, not in denial so much as a need, for no one else will carry my load will they? I push and trivialize the mundane and strive for a schedule to stick to though one hasn't been had since my last trimester some fifteen plus years ago. If I am to dine with her this evening I will need a miracle to save my poor "copperpot" from the rotting taking place. I know come three days hence the evidence of my failure to take care of myself will render itself into the sunny expelling of my flesh into the wastewater and far off to the cleansing of such matter. I don't know how many times I have digested my own stomach lining, but I assure you it wasn't a treat or planned and it has happened more than a 100 days a year for the last 38 years. There is naught a rumen in tact that will hold so much as a glass of sweet red wine and a cigarette without sounding its discord for the holes it bears. Ack, I can't handle it and suppose myself into the fetus positioning of my beastly self in the hopes that no one recognizes my little "hill" and expects companionship. I will weather my pain in silent tears as sleep takes its hold and allows me to roam free to sup and dance and fornicate on into the day and sun in my dreams. Such are the dreams of the Wamphyrii that I have made a good stance in remembering each and every one as if it were a poignant date...~mobe's love to her all and her all to her loves.
I have wanted death to play cards at my table and I suppose it would have been nice if he would be a pleasant visit in the day's sleep like all creatures pray for. But this foul sulphur erupting from my body's caverns leaves me to believe that there are other more painful bouts I will have at the black jack table with the cloaked one. I know my organs are already dead and need puppetry to force my will upon them and it sickens me even more, mentally, to know I have to coerce my own temple to host my soul. Damned I am and I didn't even do a deed in this lifetime to warrant it but that's ok by me. I know full well I have added much to atone for through the journeys of my past and will do so proud with my head held high. My vanity escapes me as I ponder who can smell the stench rising up my esophagus like the putrid steam of feces rising in the cold night from the city's sewer grills. I feel for the weak of heart and stomach for they cannot help but gag on my every word and fall ill as I ail and am dying. My bloated body does me great injustice as it proves their lies about my kind to be somewhat true. I am the dead walking. I am dying and still bear the strength of any ten men of their kind. I was a bad beast this past few days and did not put on the act of puppetry I needed to to keep my illusion of "living" alive. So I will suffer in silence, except on paper and screen, these next few days as I carefully take count and restitution and make the necessary changes needed to appear, normal.
Normal is a funny word though. I shall never appear normal. In the bloated state I am in I have never appeared normal and only fooled the too stupid to read and irritated at best those who know how bad off I am. I still push forward, not in denial so much as a need, for no one else will carry my load will they? I push and trivialize the mundane and strive for a schedule to stick to though one hasn't been had since my last trimester some fifteen plus years ago. If I am to dine with her this evening I will need a miracle to save my poor "copperpot" from the rotting taking place. I know come three days hence the evidence of my failure to take care of myself will render itself into the sunny expelling of my flesh into the wastewater and far off to the cleansing of such matter. I don't know how many times I have digested my own stomach lining, but I assure you it wasn't a treat or planned and it has happened more than a 100 days a year for the last 38 years. There is naught a rumen in tact that will hold so much as a glass of sweet red wine and a cigarette without sounding its discord for the holes it bears. Ack, I can't handle it and suppose myself into the fetus positioning of my beastly self in the hopes that no one recognizes my little "hill" and expects companionship. I will weather my pain in silent tears as sleep takes its hold and allows me to roam free to sup and dance and fornicate on into the day and sun in my dreams. Such are the dreams of the Wamphyrii that I have made a good stance in remembering each and every one as if it were a poignant date...~mobe's love to her all and her all to her loves.
The Tempest's Tale
the storm is already here on our doorstep. No one asked for it or needed to, it just came. A great big cloud of unhappiness that waltzed into the scene of the moment only to be swallowed up by the inhabitants and spread through them with the haste of a viral infection running out of time.
It started pretty innocuous. A little seed was planted in the heat and shadows of the night. The seed was disdain and it settled into my lungs. Its emphysematous tentacles choked all happiness from the terrain of my insides. I was blind-sided. I thought my perfect little world was all one could hope for. All that was needed to disrupt my cosmos was schooling. At certain ages, depending on the customs of your land, you will find parents and guardians send their little demons to scholarly folks who you expect to impart the knowledge of the gods and devils upon them. Only in my instance I was more transfixed upon the social aspects of my newfound environment and studying my fellow inhabitants. I made one friend out of sixty. Pretty bad odds for a kid but I only had one job opening and even the hired help came with her own entourage in the shape of an older sister. MaryAnn was a good kid and believed I was the reason the rains came and the clouds drew near and I loved her for it.
No one else dared select to break my experimentation processes, not even our teachers. The words "queer little girl" were bandied about with the cookies and milk at break time. As much as I was involved in my own personal growth and search for answers they would sit and stare and make their little notes on my behaviors to report back to my family on what a failure they felt I was. This failure of a child took her breaks correcting discrepancies in teachers manuals and logic that rendered itself useless long ago and resumed her analytictations. All the while a tempest brewed inside her as her world rejected her time and again. Never proven wrong, she became quite an object of respite and hatred as she drew the unwanted attention daily as she slept through math and was forced to spend recess in the comfort of the classroom during the hottest periods of the day when other children were outside playing in the warmth of the sun. Our little diseased carrier would only venture out and remain alert on the darkest of days to splash about in muddy puddles or collect bugs and toads and worms to subrogate as her new interests and exact her ministrations on. She grew and the storm within her grew. The disdain for all things improper and all things illogical. Soon she would be too smart for typical education factions and be forced into the servitude of her peers and be allowed to teach them and to correct those surrounding her that had in their power to pummel her in dodgeball or shove her on the playground.
It couldn't last too long, this unstablest of environments, and soon it was to come forth as a big typhoon, her disdain for the unrighteous as she laid hands upon a student several years her senior in defense of a kindergartener. Proper authorities had to be called for such violence was not allowed and the child was rendered unconscious in her wild state and when awoke found herself charged with bodily harm and intent on ill will. The boy in question had sucker punched her in the face leaving a tell tale black eye to which she carried proudly having spared the younger helpless child a lunchless interlude, and he walked with his parents down the long hall with a broken arm and a broken nose. Her parents were furious and she knew right then and there there would be no tender mercies for her good deeds and she would pay a far higher price when she had gotten home. Pay she did and suffered in silence the thrashing and verbal tirade because of the lawsuits that had been laid upon their door. You would think the storm would have blown over and quelled but never. Never would it as it found more fuel in the everyday strife of the little scientist to find logical answers. Her tempest grew into the storm of a lifetime and she became quite a force to be reckoned with having learned to select, carefully, the times she would vent like the winds of war. Our little warrior looks back fondly at how far she has come. I look back at what a storm the fates let loose on the human stain and all the rich fueling resources they gave me to blow my fury at the inane and mundane and ignorant existences that call themselves civilized. I am that tempest and the storm is not over. It has only begun and now, the tempest has begat another tornado of disdain. It has procreated its own beautiful carbon copy. Enjoy!~mobe's love to her all and her all to her loves.
It started pretty innocuous. A little seed was planted in the heat and shadows of the night. The seed was disdain and it settled into my lungs. Its emphysematous tentacles choked all happiness from the terrain of my insides. I was blind-sided. I thought my perfect little world was all one could hope for. All that was needed to disrupt my cosmos was schooling. At certain ages, depending on the customs of your land, you will find parents and guardians send their little demons to scholarly folks who you expect to impart the knowledge of the gods and devils upon them. Only in my instance I was more transfixed upon the social aspects of my newfound environment and studying my fellow inhabitants. I made one friend out of sixty. Pretty bad odds for a kid but I only had one job opening and even the hired help came with her own entourage in the shape of an older sister. MaryAnn was a good kid and believed I was the reason the rains came and the clouds drew near and I loved her for it.
No one else dared select to break my experimentation processes, not even our teachers. The words "queer little girl" were bandied about with the cookies and milk at break time. As much as I was involved in my own personal growth and search for answers they would sit and stare and make their little notes on my behaviors to report back to my family on what a failure they felt I was. This failure of a child took her breaks correcting discrepancies in teachers manuals and logic that rendered itself useless long ago and resumed her analytictations. All the while a tempest brewed inside her as her world rejected her time and again. Never proven wrong, she became quite an object of respite and hatred as she drew the unwanted attention daily as she slept through math and was forced to spend recess in the comfort of the classroom during the hottest periods of the day when other children were outside playing in the warmth of the sun. Our little diseased carrier would only venture out and remain alert on the darkest of days to splash about in muddy puddles or collect bugs and toads and worms to subrogate as her new interests and exact her ministrations on. She grew and the storm within her grew. The disdain for all things improper and all things illogical. Soon she would be too smart for typical education factions and be forced into the servitude of her peers and be allowed to teach them and to correct those surrounding her that had in their power to pummel her in dodgeball or shove her on the playground.
It couldn't last too long, this unstablest of environments, and soon it was to come forth as a big typhoon, her disdain for the unrighteous as she laid hands upon a student several years her senior in defense of a kindergartener. Proper authorities had to be called for such violence was not allowed and the child was rendered unconscious in her wild state and when awoke found herself charged with bodily harm and intent on ill will. The boy in question had sucker punched her in the face leaving a tell tale black eye to which she carried proudly having spared the younger helpless child a lunchless interlude, and he walked with his parents down the long hall with a broken arm and a broken nose. Her parents were furious and she knew right then and there there would be no tender mercies for her good deeds and she would pay a far higher price when she had gotten home. Pay she did and suffered in silence the thrashing and verbal tirade because of the lawsuits that had been laid upon their door. You would think the storm would have blown over and quelled but never. Never would it as it found more fuel in the everyday strife of the little scientist to find logical answers. Her tempest grew into the storm of a lifetime and she became quite a force to be reckoned with having learned to select, carefully, the times she would vent like the winds of war. Our little warrior looks back fondly at how far she has come. I look back at what a storm the fates let loose on the human stain and all the rich fueling resources they gave me to blow my fury at the inane and mundane and ignorant existences that call themselves civilized. I am that tempest and the storm is not over. It has only begun and now, the tempest has begat another tornado of disdain. It has procreated its own beautiful carbon copy. Enjoy!~mobe's love to her all and her all to her loves.
Thursday, March 17, 2011
Their One Last Chance: II
there hasn't been a sun since we left camp. Now only I, my guardian and the creatures we look after are left. Most of my people have long since passed on to the next plane of life. Everyone speculates as to what it is but there is an old man in the village that swears he's seen the faces of the gods and has assured me where I will be. I'm not sure I buy his story as of yet as I am holding out to the final hour to decide for myself.
My father wanted more for me. He pushed me endlessly trying to justify all the humiliation under the credentials of a good deed. I guess he figured if he belittled every single thing I have done then it would somehow compel me to do better next time. He's not here to see if his plan worked and nor is my maternal guardian. The only living relative I have left is my child and she has been appointed my keep in my final years. Then the wars came. All daylight was obliterated in the need for more energy and the human consumption kept climbing in its efforts to dwindle the resources of this barren planet. Trees and greenery were stripped to find cures for ailments brought on by each generation before. Food became scarce and only my kind survived and a few of them. All deemed "chosen" by their god. For a century we have now lived in darkness and the real monsters showed the colors of their mirth. Humans wrecked this place and humans killed my kind and our cousins and now for some insulting salt to the open wounds of my heart we have been granted the keepers of their endangeredness. Language has been replaced by telepathy and you can thank the Wamphyrii for that though the weaknesses in mankind have not allowed for the use of such valuable tools as this, so I being half breed play the role of mediator. No matter how mighty my peoples have been the weaker have clenched and dug their parasitic claws into our backs and not let go. I am weighed down by remorse for comrades lost and to watch in horror as my own progeny is enslaved and carrying the load of a hundred of their men.
I wanted more for her. I saw more for her. She was supposed to be the light in the dark and I her teacher and now she carries these old broken bones through another half century when they should have been lain at the feet of my forefathers some time ago. I don't know why I am still alive and what my purpose is but I am still by her side and feel her pain through it all. How can I reason with them when they cannot see past their own grief? They weren't the only beings who lost in the war. By percentages my kind suffered along with the dog people far more in casualties. She and her mage partner are expecting their first born, my only grandchild, soon. A halfling of noble birth to be born in the mud and blood of its ancestors and to bear witness to the new world order. I only hope she survives the ordeal as she has shown signs of her end of days as well. My days ended so long ago and yet I am still kept here, without order or directive, and I know not what I am to do. Shall I outlive her? Why shall I outlive her? A parent should never bury their child and still we do. I watch her as she leans to a brook to wet her lips against the night's wind stripping of the flesh back from her teeth. You can see she was once a gloriously beautiful thing and now looks more like a twisted mad and tortured heathen cursed above all men. I am thankful he be at her side and I feel like the third wheel on the cart. He is amicable enough and protects her and comforts her.
The light in the distance signals the end of the nights day and allows us to recalculate our journey once again. My little troop packs and loads the beasts as we set out again for the northern cliffs. It will be my last, maybe even hers too and it will still take several decades of human span to reach there on foot, myself on rigging as I can barely walk a full days stride now. Pretty soon, I tell myself, pretty soon it will be over as the new one has begun. She will walk where kings have died and lay me down upon dark grasses and the fires will be lit and the music will play...pretty soon.~mobe's love to her all and her all to her loves.
My father wanted more for me. He pushed me endlessly trying to justify all the humiliation under the credentials of a good deed. I guess he figured if he belittled every single thing I have done then it would somehow compel me to do better next time. He's not here to see if his plan worked and nor is my maternal guardian. The only living relative I have left is my child and she has been appointed my keep in my final years. Then the wars came. All daylight was obliterated in the need for more energy and the human consumption kept climbing in its efforts to dwindle the resources of this barren planet. Trees and greenery were stripped to find cures for ailments brought on by each generation before. Food became scarce and only my kind survived and a few of them. All deemed "chosen" by their god. For a century we have now lived in darkness and the real monsters showed the colors of their mirth. Humans wrecked this place and humans killed my kind and our cousins and now for some insulting salt to the open wounds of my heart we have been granted the keepers of their endangeredness. Language has been replaced by telepathy and you can thank the Wamphyrii for that though the weaknesses in mankind have not allowed for the use of such valuable tools as this, so I being half breed play the role of mediator. No matter how mighty my peoples have been the weaker have clenched and dug their parasitic claws into our backs and not let go. I am weighed down by remorse for comrades lost and to watch in horror as my own progeny is enslaved and carrying the load of a hundred of their men.
I wanted more for her. I saw more for her. She was supposed to be the light in the dark and I her teacher and now she carries these old broken bones through another half century when they should have been lain at the feet of my forefathers some time ago. I don't know why I am still alive and what my purpose is but I am still by her side and feel her pain through it all. How can I reason with them when they cannot see past their own grief? They weren't the only beings who lost in the war. By percentages my kind suffered along with the dog people far more in casualties. She and her mage partner are expecting their first born, my only grandchild, soon. A halfling of noble birth to be born in the mud and blood of its ancestors and to bear witness to the new world order. I only hope she survives the ordeal as she has shown signs of her end of days as well. My days ended so long ago and yet I am still kept here, without order or directive, and I know not what I am to do. Shall I outlive her? Why shall I outlive her? A parent should never bury their child and still we do. I watch her as she leans to a brook to wet her lips against the night's wind stripping of the flesh back from her teeth. You can see she was once a gloriously beautiful thing and now looks more like a twisted mad and tortured heathen cursed above all men. I am thankful he be at her side and I feel like the third wheel on the cart. He is amicable enough and protects her and comforts her.
The light in the distance signals the end of the nights day and allows us to recalculate our journey once again. My little troop packs and loads the beasts as we set out again for the northern cliffs. It will be my last, maybe even hers too and it will still take several decades of human span to reach there on foot, myself on rigging as I can barely walk a full days stride now. Pretty soon, I tell myself, pretty soon it will be over as the new one has begun. She will walk where kings have died and lay me down upon dark grasses and the fires will be lit and the music will play...pretty soon.~mobe's love to her all and her all to her loves.
Tuesday, March 15, 2011
Just Listen
turn off the lights. Turn off the sounds. Leave only one candle burning and grab a blankie and listen closely to what I am about to tell you. People don't listen often enough and it sparks me as sad and definitely not to their credit.
For one thing, we are hateful to one another and without provocation. We step on each other day after day and eventually it was bound to come to this. Someone had to grab you all by the ears, just like grandma had done, and set you straight. Today I feel that responsibility falls to me for I see things more of a black and white nature than most of you. I have too much idle time on my hands and have observed your kind for centuries and see the discrepancies in your communities. I will now share with you what I have learned as well as any recommendations I have come up with along the way if I have any.
When you see a person of a significant difference of appearance than you, you need to be aware that it is never socially acceptable to comment on their qualities BY insulting their flaws. The word "but" should be removed from the vocabulary of most of you as you have abused its intent time and again.: "Oh you are such a lovely creature and have such beautiful skin, but if you only would lose a few pounds you'd be perfect!"...the travesty and the torment you bring down upon each others' heads is holding you back from achieving anything worthwhile in your wake. I love the bosses that critique your work in the new methods taught by the "team oriented" world today. Team oriented is only meant to suggest you have even less say than you did before and that to rock the boat paints a beautiful red and white target on your back as you will be the first asshole shown the door and in the unemployment line. The team never works for the betterment of anyone except the company as they use the team dynamic to spread seeds of disdain and make you suffer collectively so that you will generate new innovative ideas under duress and your "teammates" will steal them for favor and reward from the almighty bosses! You guys are blind to this and think it is healthy but the duress is unnecessary. There are no free imagination processes occurring here. Invention is created by design and necessity but there needs to be boundaries and those boundaries need to be broken, not shattered, to make the achievement worthwhile. Countries and ideas were made from breaking rules. This forsaken country was founded on the principle take and break!
I am so sick of watching the people get dumber and dumber and lazier and lazier. I would run circles had I the legs and still am most independent for someone of my predicament. I love people who think they know my genetics better than I do. I even love people who will decide for my kid what's best for her when it was me alone, yes alone as her father has chosen to be absent 95% of the time, who looked after her well-being. The same people who tell me I am too strict and she needs to "experience" life for herself who let their own kids experience it by burning the fucking house down because he trusts them more than he thinks I trust mine. Trust doesn't even come into it! It is my RESPONSIBILITY to NOT trust them and by doing so keep them safe. They don't understand trust yet, as they cannot be taught this by someone who doesn't themselves trust. I have been told I don't trust but I trust far more than most of you that the world will purge herself of all the ills of your likes as she has done so many times before. I know a man who trusted his parents, the very same alcoholics that made him what he is, a drop-out with no education who lives with his mama and papa and spends all his money talking and drinking instead of making himself a better man and contributing to society. He trusted that they were perfect babysitters to his little precious girl and found one day she was gone! Not just gone but kidnapped while they were home passed out and raped and beaten and buried alive not 500 yards from the house where she slept. And all on a school night while he was out at the bar with his girlfriend and the kid's mother lived some 1000 miles away! A school night! Parents should be home with their children keeping vigil that the "fox" doesn't sneak into the coop while you are away! People were awash with fear and loathing for the vermin that did it and I was awash with pity as I had nothing to fear. A duck is a duck and he, the criminal, even told the jailers that let him out he will commit crimes of that nature again because he didn't feel rehabilitated and didn't think he was strong enough to withstand the urge. An alligator will bite no matter how hard you teach it not to, so will a pitbull. He was let out of jail and led a pretty low key life for a few months and saw this opportunity he couldn't pass up. He had more remorse for his actions than the community that failed that girl did for their part in it. He genuinely wanted to get better and instead the system let him down as well as Jennifer and "set them up" for failure.
Why would I identify with him? Because my kid paid a price for what he did and how he did it. She paid by having a good momma who used that incident to lecture her and teach her the way and reason she is treated as she is. It bound us tighter together and made her appreciate me more and the sacrifices I made. It reinforced her as a parent for the future and let her know she mattered more to me than a boyfriend or a date. That father made a big deal and got some notoriety in the deals he made but he is still an uneducated shit of a man who I wouldn't let watch my dog. Society expects so much out of people unable to do it yet gives so little. I would be perfect had I not the big ass and loud mouth I have. I would be beautiful to my ex husband if I "knew my role" as he defined it. I am a strict momma who has her kid and she is not the little whore and pig some of the children today are encouraged to be. The monsters are not the other people they are YOU and the choices you make. I am a monster to my kid when she doesn't get her own way but I would rather be the monster that doesn't let her go over "Sally sleeps around alot's" house than the "angelic example of motherhood" that condones all ill behaviors and blames the world for what I beget! Imagine living in that town and your kid is a close resemblance to that poor little tortured missing creature. Imagine people, strangers, coming up to your kid and questioning her without your consent and insisting to her she is who she's not! I feel for the loss of her but know she was not looked after properly so a higher power brought her "home." I break many rules in parenting and societal norms. But I have a little girl growing up who I tuck in every night who is safe and respects herself and loves me even when I busted her ass a time or two.
What you do and what you say matters people. It mattered that this guy warned the people rehabilitating him that let him out due to overcrowding. It mattered to that little girl too. It matters to me when I work a job that I have to "prove" I am worthy based upon the fact that I am fat and no one else is asked to prove their competence.(as if fatness equals stupidity or skinny means competence and intelligence) It matters what I say to you right now and what it means to you and I won't ask you to live your life in total darkness anymore than for you to insist I live mine with her by the light of day. It matters that I want her to succeed in life enough to sacrifice my needs for hers. You are not there to be their team mate or best friend. They will choose their own in time when they are older. Be kind and stop expecting a fat chick to prove herself capable when she can do more than you to begin with. Stop punishing a paralyzed man for not having feet and a person with a big ass for not fitting in a chair on a plane. Start pulling the planks out of your own eyes before telling someone else of their own splinters...and before you tell me that is exactly what I am doing, understand I have earned the right because I am ALWAYS bettering myself for my kid and myself and society. I have plenty of time to see what you are all blind to, so wake up and take count!~mobe's love to her all and her all to her loves.
For one thing, we are hateful to one another and without provocation. We step on each other day after day and eventually it was bound to come to this. Someone had to grab you all by the ears, just like grandma had done, and set you straight. Today I feel that responsibility falls to me for I see things more of a black and white nature than most of you. I have too much idle time on my hands and have observed your kind for centuries and see the discrepancies in your communities. I will now share with you what I have learned as well as any recommendations I have come up with along the way if I have any.
When you see a person of a significant difference of appearance than you, you need to be aware that it is never socially acceptable to comment on their qualities BY insulting their flaws. The word "but" should be removed from the vocabulary of most of you as you have abused its intent time and again.: "Oh you are such a lovely creature and have such beautiful skin, but if you only would lose a few pounds you'd be perfect!"...the travesty and the torment you bring down upon each others' heads is holding you back from achieving anything worthwhile in your wake. I love the bosses that critique your work in the new methods taught by the "team oriented" world today. Team oriented is only meant to suggest you have even less say than you did before and that to rock the boat paints a beautiful red and white target on your back as you will be the first asshole shown the door and in the unemployment line. The team never works for the betterment of anyone except the company as they use the team dynamic to spread seeds of disdain and make you suffer collectively so that you will generate new innovative ideas under duress and your "teammates" will steal them for favor and reward from the almighty bosses! You guys are blind to this and think it is healthy but the duress is unnecessary. There are no free imagination processes occurring here. Invention is created by design and necessity but there needs to be boundaries and those boundaries need to be broken, not shattered, to make the achievement worthwhile. Countries and ideas were made from breaking rules. This forsaken country was founded on the principle take and break!
I am so sick of watching the people get dumber and dumber and lazier and lazier. I would run circles had I the legs and still am most independent for someone of my predicament. I love people who think they know my genetics better than I do. I even love people who will decide for my kid what's best for her when it was me alone, yes alone as her father has chosen to be absent 95% of the time, who looked after her well-being. The same people who tell me I am too strict and she needs to "experience" life for herself who let their own kids experience it by burning the fucking house down because he trusts them more than he thinks I trust mine. Trust doesn't even come into it! It is my RESPONSIBILITY to NOT trust them and by doing so keep them safe. They don't understand trust yet, as they cannot be taught this by someone who doesn't themselves trust. I have been told I don't trust but I trust far more than most of you that the world will purge herself of all the ills of your likes as she has done so many times before. I know a man who trusted his parents, the very same alcoholics that made him what he is, a drop-out with no education who lives with his mama and papa and spends all his money talking and drinking instead of making himself a better man and contributing to society. He trusted that they were perfect babysitters to his little precious girl and found one day she was gone! Not just gone but kidnapped while they were home passed out and raped and beaten and buried alive not 500 yards from the house where she slept. And all on a school night while he was out at the bar with his girlfriend and the kid's mother lived some 1000 miles away! A school night! Parents should be home with their children keeping vigil that the "fox" doesn't sneak into the coop while you are away! People were awash with fear and loathing for the vermin that did it and I was awash with pity as I had nothing to fear. A duck is a duck and he, the criminal, even told the jailers that let him out he will commit crimes of that nature again because he didn't feel rehabilitated and didn't think he was strong enough to withstand the urge. An alligator will bite no matter how hard you teach it not to, so will a pitbull. He was let out of jail and led a pretty low key life for a few months and saw this opportunity he couldn't pass up. He had more remorse for his actions than the community that failed that girl did for their part in it. He genuinely wanted to get better and instead the system let him down as well as Jennifer and "set them up" for failure.
Why would I identify with him? Because my kid paid a price for what he did and how he did it. She paid by having a good momma who used that incident to lecture her and teach her the way and reason she is treated as she is. It bound us tighter together and made her appreciate me more and the sacrifices I made. It reinforced her as a parent for the future and let her know she mattered more to me than a boyfriend or a date. That father made a big deal and got some notoriety in the deals he made but he is still an uneducated shit of a man who I wouldn't let watch my dog. Society expects so much out of people unable to do it yet gives so little. I would be perfect had I not the big ass and loud mouth I have. I would be beautiful to my ex husband if I "knew my role" as he defined it. I am a strict momma who has her kid and she is not the little whore and pig some of the children today are encouraged to be. The monsters are not the other people they are YOU and the choices you make. I am a monster to my kid when she doesn't get her own way but I would rather be the monster that doesn't let her go over "Sally sleeps around alot's" house than the "angelic example of motherhood" that condones all ill behaviors and blames the world for what I beget! Imagine living in that town and your kid is a close resemblance to that poor little tortured missing creature. Imagine people, strangers, coming up to your kid and questioning her without your consent and insisting to her she is who she's not! I feel for the loss of her but know she was not looked after properly so a higher power brought her "home." I break many rules in parenting and societal norms. But I have a little girl growing up who I tuck in every night who is safe and respects herself and loves me even when I busted her ass a time or two.
What you do and what you say matters people. It mattered that this guy warned the people rehabilitating him that let him out due to overcrowding. It mattered to that little girl too. It matters to me when I work a job that I have to "prove" I am worthy based upon the fact that I am fat and no one else is asked to prove their competence.(as if fatness equals stupidity or skinny means competence and intelligence) It matters what I say to you right now and what it means to you and I won't ask you to live your life in total darkness anymore than for you to insist I live mine with her by the light of day. It matters that I want her to succeed in life enough to sacrifice my needs for hers. You are not there to be their team mate or best friend. They will choose their own in time when they are older. Be kind and stop expecting a fat chick to prove herself capable when she can do more than you to begin with. Stop punishing a paralyzed man for not having feet and a person with a big ass for not fitting in a chair on a plane. Start pulling the planks out of your own eyes before telling someone else of their own splinters...and before you tell me that is exactly what I am doing, understand I have earned the right because I am ALWAYS bettering myself for my kid and myself and society. I have plenty of time to see what you are all blind to, so wake up and take count!~mobe's love to her all and her all to her loves.
Sunday, March 13, 2011
Their One Last Chance
nausea washes over the soul as the last gasp of breathe escapes from its sac filled tomb. My head is reeling and I feel I am slipping into the abyss without a rope or way out. Time is ticking fast and but for the briefest of instances, reminds me of all I had wanted and all I haven't achieved.
I awaken to a dark world and just as my eyes adjust I am slammed into the ground where I consume enough dirt to suffocate my lungs. My lip is torn and I am aware of eyes all around me with an electric green phosphorescent hue. I am being watched and only the sound of my heartbeat can be heard. "Are they alive" I ask myself silently in my head, "You have been judged" was their reply. Still not being able to hear a sound or murmur from them, I slowly come to my feet again to be knocked surely down to the ground. This time I am sure it is blood I am tasting and being a fast learner, I saved my stomach the meal of dirty earth it would have gotten had I not been more prepared.
"You have been chosen. You need not ask questions as to why and by whom as all will be revealed in due time. Your fate is yours alone and your sentence has always been with you." Nothing more was said. The soft glow of a light saffron orb no bigger than a housefly led me out of the deepest darkest cavern I have ever seen. I have always known they would come for me as it was a matter of time. I have done so much to draw attention and they knew I already knew who they were. The wolves show no mercy on human life or any facsimile therein and their rather amusing game with me was there way of keeping their honour. To let me go unscathed would be to show fealty to one not their own and that would make them targets in a world where they rule and are feared with purpose. My abrupt snort and I followed the little fae out into the thick of night.
It took near twenty minutes to walk out into the starry night sky and it was time well spent. I know why I am here and I know what it is I am supposed to do I just haven't decided whether it was worth my life to do it at this point. Neither wolf nor human I reserve the right to make my own way and I kneel to no one no matter how hard they knock me down. Cause for concern, I am aware I am not alone on this journey and that I hold the lives of others in my stead, for every decision I make will either bring the wrath of the gods that be or peal with the laughter of cheating the fates. A rustle here and a crunch there showing me they are coming whether invited or not. As if! As if they could sway me to take the challenge and guide the ignorant fools out of the darkness they brought upon themselves. My people tried to show them the way some centuries ago and now it falls to me and my kin to guide them in their self imposed stupidity to some promised land designed for them? What of my people's promised lands torn from our grip to be chiseled away into harlots' dens and whores' beds. This whole damned world was put here for them. They feel they are the chosen though me and my brethren and cousins, the wolves, are far superior species to accommodate the needs of saving this planet. It wasn't designed for them but they raped and took what they could and now, with nothing left but the destruction they made, they want me to lead them out into a salvation not deserved of their kind.
Anger knows no fury as that I wear on my back. The marks she gave me, mother, human. I am a half-breed born of mortal womb and with the fire of kings and generals that flows through my veins like a river of red hatred for all things on two feet. I will make a way and I will make a guide for them but I am still unsure to as of yet what fate I will guide them to. As my grandfather was once at their mercy and shown no favor so too will they be at mine and shown no favor. The journey be long and treacherous and the rode will wane as we hit wild country but I know this land better than they born here and to them I am their salvation, their one last chance...~mobe's love to her all and her all to her loves.
I awaken to a dark world and just as my eyes adjust I am slammed into the ground where I consume enough dirt to suffocate my lungs. My lip is torn and I am aware of eyes all around me with an electric green phosphorescent hue. I am being watched and only the sound of my heartbeat can be heard. "Are they alive" I ask myself silently in my head, "You have been judged" was their reply. Still not being able to hear a sound or murmur from them, I slowly come to my feet again to be knocked surely down to the ground. This time I am sure it is blood I am tasting and being a fast learner, I saved my stomach the meal of dirty earth it would have gotten had I not been more prepared.
"You have been chosen. You need not ask questions as to why and by whom as all will be revealed in due time. Your fate is yours alone and your sentence has always been with you." Nothing more was said. The soft glow of a light saffron orb no bigger than a housefly led me out of the deepest darkest cavern I have ever seen. I have always known they would come for me as it was a matter of time. I have done so much to draw attention and they knew I already knew who they were. The wolves show no mercy on human life or any facsimile therein and their rather amusing game with me was there way of keeping their honour. To let me go unscathed would be to show fealty to one not their own and that would make them targets in a world where they rule and are feared with purpose. My abrupt snort and I followed the little fae out into the thick of night.
It took near twenty minutes to walk out into the starry night sky and it was time well spent. I know why I am here and I know what it is I am supposed to do I just haven't decided whether it was worth my life to do it at this point. Neither wolf nor human I reserve the right to make my own way and I kneel to no one no matter how hard they knock me down. Cause for concern, I am aware I am not alone on this journey and that I hold the lives of others in my stead, for every decision I make will either bring the wrath of the gods that be or peal with the laughter of cheating the fates. A rustle here and a crunch there showing me they are coming whether invited or not. As if! As if they could sway me to take the challenge and guide the ignorant fools out of the darkness they brought upon themselves. My people tried to show them the way some centuries ago and now it falls to me and my kin to guide them in their self imposed stupidity to some promised land designed for them? What of my people's promised lands torn from our grip to be chiseled away into harlots' dens and whores' beds. This whole damned world was put here for them. They feel they are the chosen though me and my brethren and cousins, the wolves, are far superior species to accommodate the needs of saving this planet. It wasn't designed for them but they raped and took what they could and now, with nothing left but the destruction they made, they want me to lead them out into a salvation not deserved of their kind.
Anger knows no fury as that I wear on my back. The marks she gave me, mother, human. I am a half-breed born of mortal womb and with the fire of kings and generals that flows through my veins like a river of red hatred for all things on two feet. I will make a way and I will make a guide for them but I am still unsure to as of yet what fate I will guide them to. As my grandfather was once at their mercy and shown no favor so too will they be at mine and shown no favor. The journey be long and treacherous and the rode will wane as we hit wild country but I know this land better than they born here and to them I am their salvation, their one last chance...~mobe's love to her all and her all to her loves.
Saturday, March 12, 2011
All in a Day's Work
it was all in a day's work but not enough to give her hope for her future. I had it out with the disability insurance company only this time, I really had it out to the point to where the CSR, my case manager, would hang up on me and send me into a tirade that would last the better part of the morning and well into the evening.
To my credit, I did not swear or cuss out the insensitive bitch and have been in contact with her since she was transferred to my case a little over a week ago. We have been communicating about my benefits being terminated and at first she seemed like she genuinely wanted to help me. Notice I said seemed. I accused her company of putting profits and the almighty dollar before the welfare of the clients they serve and she gave me instructions to which I replied "Whatever!" and she hung up. Seriously! My other choice for end conversation with her was to say "fuck off bitch and do what you want cuz you're gonna anyway!" so the whatever I belted out was totally appropriate, even for a thirty-nine year old at the time. If I was miffed before I said whatever you can rest assured I was royally pissed off afterwards. I took two breathes and called back politely asking for her supervisor and when I was patched through I burst into tears and started cussing like the good sailor I am and crying my heart out because I am just having a hard time believing they are looking out for my interests. The worst of it was realizing the manager, who left the case and gave it to Miss Whatever, didn't do her job and others were interfering and they don't have all the medical records they needed so are pulling the plug on my life support so to speak. The super gave me an extension to get in touch with the other doctors they don't have the 411 from and then they will send out requests for documentation from them and make a final verdict on my life, deciding whether I can care for my kid and pay my bills or not.
You see, if I cannot financially meet my obligations to care for my child then her father has grounds to take her from me. I would be considered unfit. I am barely making ends meet as it is and am only doing that with the help of my brother and his family. I have been feeling like a failure for some time and cannot wrap my head around what these people expect from me. She IS the only reason I am not dead and without her, there really is no point now is there? I have lost my house, my job, my health, my heart, my mind and only have her and my shitty life left and without her there is no need to continue such a miserable existence. Life is hard when you look it right in the eye and realize it is going to pull the trigger whether you want to or not. I am trying my best but it isn't good enough. Not that I haven't said it all before but let's recap the last two and a half years:
lymph cancer~benign
cervical cancer~bad but under remission
considered morbidly obese~edema/chronic inflammation from organ failure and resulting lymphatic pooling. I am a plus sized gal to begin with but not this plus sized!
organ failure~liver/kidney/brain/heart/hormonal systems
mental acuity~major depressive with sever anxiety disorder and OCD and lack of censorship, suicidal and homicidal as in a harm to everyone(excepting my kid of course)
EPP~inability to tolerate light in all forms and cannot do so without literally killing myself even more than the above to begin with
...complications from EPP~digestive disorders that make Crohn's, GERD, acid reflux and irritable bowel syndrome look like fun! multiple fractures on an ongoing basis due to the severe malnourishment from lack of eating for over a decade that have depleted my minerals and metals to non existent and they haven't even climbed UP TO dangerously low yet with therapy
...with all of this How and Where am I supposed to work? What job is going to take an overweight mental patient who is dying from a rare genetic disorder and has NOT been released by her doctors who are treating her? Well Met Life seems to think I can and I challenge them to find me a job without light and standing where I won't be around other people and be occupied enough to not want to "off" myself on their watch!
I am not sick enough to get help and not disabled enough to stay out of work but I have several medical professionals who disagree with them and they still want me out and about....maybe I need to take a trip to Lexington KY where there headquarters are and apply there for a csr position...The economy is tanking and they are worried they won't make AS MUCH as they would like to and may miss that fantastic convention in Hawaii they were planning as a corporate bonus or may have to take fewer Leer jets to work and such and I am trying to keep my $1200 from them to live on with Lobo's $600 a month to which my medical eats up $600 monthly-so $1200 to pay bills and car payment and care for my kid(and five cats I've had for several years). It's all about the bottom dollar folks and they are 6mos into the fiscal year* and doing their annual reviews and are trying to shake the monkeys from the tree without cause or concern and the kicker is I am APPROVED until August from my LTD but they don't wan to pay the last six months so they want me off the payroll. Life is good eh?~mobe's love to her all and her all to her loves...but lost at the moment.
* note most government and business fiscal years start on the first Monday following Labor Day in September(why I don't know but I remember this from economics class and such...fiscal is different that calendar year and is the reason most of the annual inflation rates and year end raises resulting from don't happen until the end of March...another reason to beware the "EYES" of March!)
To my credit, I did not swear or cuss out the insensitive bitch and have been in contact with her since she was transferred to my case a little over a week ago. We have been communicating about my benefits being terminated and at first she seemed like she genuinely wanted to help me. Notice I said seemed. I accused her company of putting profits and the almighty dollar before the welfare of the clients they serve and she gave me instructions to which I replied "Whatever!" and she hung up. Seriously! My other choice for end conversation with her was to say "fuck off bitch and do what you want cuz you're gonna anyway!" so the whatever I belted out was totally appropriate, even for a thirty-nine year old at the time. If I was miffed before I said whatever you can rest assured I was royally pissed off afterwards. I took two breathes and called back politely asking for her supervisor and when I was patched through I burst into tears and started cussing like the good sailor I am and crying my heart out because I am just having a hard time believing they are looking out for my interests. The worst of it was realizing the manager, who left the case and gave it to Miss Whatever, didn't do her job and others were interfering and they don't have all the medical records they needed so are pulling the plug on my life support so to speak. The super gave me an extension to get in touch with the other doctors they don't have the 411 from and then they will send out requests for documentation from them and make a final verdict on my life, deciding whether I can care for my kid and pay my bills or not.
You see, if I cannot financially meet my obligations to care for my child then her father has grounds to take her from me. I would be considered unfit. I am barely making ends meet as it is and am only doing that with the help of my brother and his family. I have been feeling like a failure for some time and cannot wrap my head around what these people expect from me. She IS the only reason I am not dead and without her, there really is no point now is there? I have lost my house, my job, my health, my heart, my mind and only have her and my shitty life left and without her there is no need to continue such a miserable existence. Life is hard when you look it right in the eye and realize it is going to pull the trigger whether you want to or not. I am trying my best but it isn't good enough. Not that I haven't said it all before but let's recap the last two and a half years:
lymph cancer~benign
cervical cancer~bad but under remission
considered morbidly obese~edema/chronic inflammation from organ failure and resulting lymphatic pooling. I am a plus sized gal to begin with but not this plus sized!
organ failure~liver/kidney/brain/heart/hormonal systems
mental acuity~major depressive with sever anxiety disorder and OCD and lack of censorship, suicidal and homicidal as in a harm to everyone(excepting my kid of course)
EPP~inability to tolerate light in all forms and cannot do so without literally killing myself even more than the above to begin with
...complications from EPP~digestive disorders that make Crohn's, GERD, acid reflux and irritable bowel syndrome look like fun! multiple fractures on an ongoing basis due to the severe malnourishment from lack of eating for over a decade that have depleted my minerals and metals to non existent and they haven't even climbed UP TO dangerously low yet with therapy
...with all of this How and Where am I supposed to work? What job is going to take an overweight mental patient who is dying from a rare genetic disorder and has NOT been released by her doctors who are treating her? Well Met Life seems to think I can and I challenge them to find me a job without light and standing where I won't be around other people and be occupied enough to not want to "off" myself on their watch!
I am not sick enough to get help and not disabled enough to stay out of work but I have several medical professionals who disagree with them and they still want me out and about....maybe I need to take a trip to Lexington KY where there headquarters are and apply there for a csr position...The economy is tanking and they are worried they won't make AS MUCH as they would like to and may miss that fantastic convention in Hawaii they were planning as a corporate bonus or may have to take fewer Leer jets to work and such and I am trying to keep my $1200 from them to live on with Lobo's $600 a month to which my medical eats up $600 monthly-so $1200 to pay bills and car payment and care for my kid(and five cats I've had for several years). It's all about the bottom dollar folks and they are 6mos into the fiscal year* and doing their annual reviews and are trying to shake the monkeys from the tree without cause or concern and the kicker is I am APPROVED until August from my LTD but they don't wan to pay the last six months so they want me off the payroll. Life is good eh?~mobe's love to her all and her all to her loves...but lost at the moment.
* note most government and business fiscal years start on the first Monday following Labor Day in September(why I don't know but I remember this from economics class and such...fiscal is different that calendar year and is the reason most of the annual inflation rates and year end raises resulting from don't happen until the end of March...another reason to beware the "EYES" of March!)
Friday, March 11, 2011
Idle Worship
long ago there were peoples who worshiped the sun and the moon and the rain. Today not much has changed, and I sit and ponder the visits from old friends as I notice they haven't changed either. I am too tired to fight about stuff I cannot change. There isn't enough care, want or energy left.
Whether they intend to or not people always manage to find the right way to hurt one another. It seems it's the only thing we are good at really. No matter whether human or not we all know how to bite to the core of an individual with the quickness of an asp and leave no carcass behind like a tiger in the reeds. Children and men and woman and the elders all know exactly that point to which they made you "just" snap. First the shocked look of horror washes over the target. Then comes the welling up and the running in circles in their mind opening every door looking for a solution or comeback. Either way it hurts and good too. I bite often as I can and I know the exact words that will hit the mark as well as the right time to lay hands upon the ignorance of mankind. Sometimes they just irk me enough when they don't get it. They needs a helping "hand" to remind them of where their brain lies and where their truths slumber. I just don't feel it anymore. My golden years of "retirement-forced" have yielded a lonely existence for me. Deep down inside I know it is meant to be like this for me but I still hold on to this stomach turning hope that there would be someone, anyone, I can spend the rest of my days with and have a reward in kind for all the hard work I have done and all the good deeds I amassed. Of course the fates would have it otherwise seeing as they have a better record than I as to what my accounts held as far as goodness goes. Let's face it, any good deeds brought on my behalf were mostly those I deliberately used to justify an end or mean for my own self preservation. I am not really sure there are any that are completely without a reason that benefits me.
We are a selfish lot. All creatures are and we supposedly are the ones who are superior. Only the difference between me and you (besides the obvious) is that I am aware of my selfish acts and accept them as inevitability whereas you sell yourself a story you wrote yourself to assuage your own insecurities. I know I am worthy of a vacation even if all of my deeds have insinuations attached to them. I know I deserve love and affection and companionship too. I am also aware how I perceive myself may not be how others perceive me and that the beauty in me is only found in the fractures of my humanity. There is no golden mane or porcelain skin for one to look upon and covet and cherish. There is no perfect structure or mind to hold up to the barrage of whims one has for the self. I am not ever going to be completely cool with the loneliness but at least I keep good company for myself.~ mobe's love to her all and her all to her loves.
Whether they intend to or not people always manage to find the right way to hurt one another. It seems it's the only thing we are good at really. No matter whether human or not we all know how to bite to the core of an individual with the quickness of an asp and leave no carcass behind like a tiger in the reeds. Children and men and woman and the elders all know exactly that point to which they made you "just" snap. First the shocked look of horror washes over the target. Then comes the welling up and the running in circles in their mind opening every door looking for a solution or comeback. Either way it hurts and good too. I bite often as I can and I know the exact words that will hit the mark as well as the right time to lay hands upon the ignorance of mankind. Sometimes they just irk me enough when they don't get it. They needs a helping "hand" to remind them of where their brain lies and where their truths slumber. I just don't feel it anymore. My golden years of "retirement-forced" have yielded a lonely existence for me. Deep down inside I know it is meant to be like this for me but I still hold on to this stomach turning hope that there would be someone, anyone, I can spend the rest of my days with and have a reward in kind for all the hard work I have done and all the good deeds I amassed. Of course the fates would have it otherwise seeing as they have a better record than I as to what my accounts held as far as goodness goes. Let's face it, any good deeds brought on my behalf were mostly those I deliberately used to justify an end or mean for my own self preservation. I am not really sure there are any that are completely without a reason that benefits me.
We are a selfish lot. All creatures are and we supposedly are the ones who are superior. Only the difference between me and you (besides the obvious) is that I am aware of my selfish acts and accept them as inevitability whereas you sell yourself a story you wrote yourself to assuage your own insecurities. I know I am worthy of a vacation even if all of my deeds have insinuations attached to them. I know I deserve love and affection and companionship too. I am also aware how I perceive myself may not be how others perceive me and that the beauty in me is only found in the fractures of my humanity. There is no golden mane or porcelain skin for one to look upon and covet and cherish. There is no perfect structure or mind to hold up to the barrage of whims one has for the self. I am not ever going to be completely cool with the loneliness but at least I keep good company for myself.~ mobe's love to her all and her all to her loves.
Fleeting Passage
somewhere locked inside all this mess of flesh, blood and bone is a mind willing to permeate the space and time it takes to think of how to not be. There is no beginning or end in here and only the murmur of an all too broken heart bashed about on the seas of transgressions from others who know exactly what they do.
Amazed and full of wonder I stumble through life with only enough light to guide my ample body from destination to destination. People's faces pass me by in the slow motion of a picture reel and mock my every visual aesthetic that ticks them off. Trying to remain concealed in my tomb of carbon and water, I peer out from time to time in the hopes of catching a state of approval from one of the onlookers, to no avail. The shame is unbearable as if I brought this on myself. The guilt for being too feeble to fix what was torn and shattered by others. You ask what present I have for you upon my return and I tell you no greater a present than the here and now! I speak in riddles for it is my way of weeding out the plants I do not want in my garden and being able to have a more suitable and functional field of knowledge. A give and take and I give so much and take so little and loathe not that fact, excepting on the days that end in "day" and begin with the letters of the alphabet from A to Z. Tears well up at the site of the all knowing eyes of another tortured mass. I see them, the blank faces like a canvas stripped in anger by turpentine's hurtful sting. They walk ever slowly behind and below and about but never aside, and suffer all they yield to and without so much as a single loud audible breathe for fear 'twill be there last. A quick silent gasp and then the slow balancing act to try to keep in the dark shadows in the hopes that the sighted won't see and the audibled won't hear.
Footsteps echo and ping like sonar on the deepest vessel in the bloody waters of hatred. I can feel my own sonar calling me to arms and making me, compelling me to move forward and hold my head proud. They now know what they refused to believe and still they starve for lack of understanding. One can only feed and provide for that to which they cannot nourish themselves with and hope and prey upon the weak as their own sustenance. What I crave is the absolute that isn't there no matter how hard I try to achieve it. It is the ever never attainable brass ring of my peace as there can't be a way out of the maze so long as the maze keeps being altered by Pan. Why must I be so mocked and by the gods that created me as well? My will super-cedes my ability and mocks me too, and everywhere I turn is a jester's hateful laughter telling me to give in and give up. Yards of green grasses beckon me to their seat and trees once climbed long ago call to me in the wind and know I cannot enjoy their boughs no longer so are missing me as much as I them. The glare of the snow drifts reflect the cold dark world I am only allowed to see in blackest of blacks and lightest of greys. I need a colorful spectral allowance to provide my temporals the "eine" they so desire and crave and feen for. There will be no last dance and no last supper and no last drink from the Holy Grail for my lips have succored upon myths no one should be allowed to trespass onto and my eyes befall sights to waken the blind from their sleep. I will go when I give in, when my breathe is acrid and metallic and when my heart feels no more. I will go when I am called if even late and I will go willingly and I will notice no hatred anymore.~mobe's love to her all and her all to her loves.
Amazed and full of wonder I stumble through life with only enough light to guide my ample body from destination to destination. People's faces pass me by in the slow motion of a picture reel and mock my every visual aesthetic that ticks them off. Trying to remain concealed in my tomb of carbon and water, I peer out from time to time in the hopes of catching a state of approval from one of the onlookers, to no avail. The shame is unbearable as if I brought this on myself. The guilt for being too feeble to fix what was torn and shattered by others. You ask what present I have for you upon my return and I tell you no greater a present than the here and now! I speak in riddles for it is my way of weeding out the plants I do not want in my garden and being able to have a more suitable and functional field of knowledge. A give and take and I give so much and take so little and loathe not that fact, excepting on the days that end in "day" and begin with the letters of the alphabet from A to Z. Tears well up at the site of the all knowing eyes of another tortured mass. I see them, the blank faces like a canvas stripped in anger by turpentine's hurtful sting. They walk ever slowly behind and below and about but never aside, and suffer all they yield to and without so much as a single loud audible breathe for fear 'twill be there last. A quick silent gasp and then the slow balancing act to try to keep in the dark shadows in the hopes that the sighted won't see and the audibled won't hear.
Footsteps echo and ping like sonar on the deepest vessel in the bloody waters of hatred. I can feel my own sonar calling me to arms and making me, compelling me to move forward and hold my head proud. They now know what they refused to believe and still they starve for lack of understanding. One can only feed and provide for that to which they cannot nourish themselves with and hope and prey upon the weak as their own sustenance. What I crave is the absolute that isn't there no matter how hard I try to achieve it. It is the ever never attainable brass ring of my peace as there can't be a way out of the maze so long as the maze keeps being altered by Pan. Why must I be so mocked and by the gods that created me as well? My will super-cedes my ability and mocks me too, and everywhere I turn is a jester's hateful laughter telling me to give in and give up. Yards of green grasses beckon me to their seat and trees once climbed long ago call to me in the wind and know I cannot enjoy their boughs no longer so are missing me as much as I them. The glare of the snow drifts reflect the cold dark world I am only allowed to see in blackest of blacks and lightest of greys. I need a colorful spectral allowance to provide my temporals the "eine" they so desire and crave and feen for. There will be no last dance and no last supper and no last drink from the Holy Grail for my lips have succored upon myths no one should be allowed to trespass onto and my eyes befall sights to waken the blind from their sleep. I will go when I give in, when my breathe is acrid and metallic and when my heart feels no more. I will go when I am called if even late and I will go willingly and I will notice no hatred anymore.~mobe's love to her all and her all to her loves.
Wednesday, March 9, 2011
Individuals: Part 14
this is just a fleeting update to let you know that I am looking for new information about my genetics as we speak. Even my own doctor is without proper knowledge of the species and our discernible traits that separate us from you. She had to research in basically fifteen minutes in her office to come up with a trial game-plan on how to deal with me. I tried to keep in touch with the "leading authority" via e-mail but the woman in question has written me off as a "kook" or village idiot. In today's day and times it is not unusual for someone or many ones to claim superiority or alien existence to mankind, even if the alien existence is still terrestrial to this planet.
With renewed fervor, I will make a point to spend at least and hour each evening to that end. There has to be texts or manuscripts somewhere that has the genealogy and possibly biographies of ancestors and how they carried on daily. I will even write a second letter to the lady doctor at Harvard in the hopes she will see I am not some crazy fetish queen looking for fifteen minutes of fame. I have valuable information to pass along to her and her studies and feel a collaboration and a rewriting of our "tale," if you will, will not be out of the question. She needs this documentation and I need to get things right. It's what I do and even if she refuses, I am more than certain there are several dozens who will be happy to help me write a handbook for my peoples. So few of us but I can feel an uprising and have noticed the numbers climbing through the years. Could be the "not willing to seek medical attention" anomaly but I like to think of it as we are coming back and much needed at this time. The world is threatened by global warming and holy wars and what not. Chicken Little runs through the streets almost daily to ring the bell of doom for humankind. I see darkness and dark days ahead and the need for my kind to have more numbers. Otherwise, why else would a dormant gene lay still for 500 years and suddenly pick the loudest fat chick it can cling to and make her life a living hell. Tonight I sit and write this as well as several other entries so that I may take on the arduous task of searching every engine I can find and every link that is allowable until I am exhausted. I won't let you guys down and will keep posting daily or as often as I can and you all know I am good at making up lost time and word! Thank you all for being here and making yourself known, one at a time and secretly, so that I may be comforted in the know that this all wasn't a vain waste to lie here in the eventuality my kid will want to read it someday. I hope I have helped you or made you laugh or even cried so that it did matter, in a way, that I mattered. I will keep you all posted as to my findings in between the hysterical and dour poetry and crude observances of fellow behavior.~mobe's love to her all and her all to her loves.
With renewed fervor, I will make a point to spend at least and hour each evening to that end. There has to be texts or manuscripts somewhere that has the genealogy and possibly biographies of ancestors and how they carried on daily. I will even write a second letter to the lady doctor at Harvard in the hopes she will see I am not some crazy fetish queen looking for fifteen minutes of fame. I have valuable information to pass along to her and her studies and feel a collaboration and a rewriting of our "tale," if you will, will not be out of the question. She needs this documentation and I need to get things right. It's what I do and even if she refuses, I am more than certain there are several dozens who will be happy to help me write a handbook for my peoples. So few of us but I can feel an uprising and have noticed the numbers climbing through the years. Could be the "not willing to seek medical attention" anomaly but I like to think of it as we are coming back and much needed at this time. The world is threatened by global warming and holy wars and what not. Chicken Little runs through the streets almost daily to ring the bell of doom for humankind. I see darkness and dark days ahead and the need for my kind to have more numbers. Otherwise, why else would a dormant gene lay still for 500 years and suddenly pick the loudest fat chick it can cling to and make her life a living hell. Tonight I sit and write this as well as several other entries so that I may take on the arduous task of searching every engine I can find and every link that is allowable until I am exhausted. I won't let you guys down and will keep posting daily or as often as I can and you all know I am good at making up lost time and word! Thank you all for being here and making yourself known, one at a time and secretly, so that I may be comforted in the know that this all wasn't a vain waste to lie here in the eventuality my kid will want to read it someday. I hope I have helped you or made you laugh or even cried so that it did matter, in a way, that I mattered. I will keep you all posted as to my findings in between the hysterical and dour poetry and crude observances of fellow behavior.~mobe's love to her all and her all to her loves.
Tuesday, March 8, 2011
Another Look at Subsonscious
thinking on the subject of unconsciousness or subconsciousness again. I read the book on the Interpretation of Dreams by Dr. Sigmund Freud when I was still in high school. It might entertain you to know that I did it of my own accord borrowing it form the library time and again until I finally, at the age of twenty-five, purchased my own hard copy.
Many people have tried to prove this man wrong. All sorts of medical and experimental studies have given way to proving the actual rightness of this man's work and I am not here to preach to the choir. I will say simply I concur with his findings and have even tried myself to come to a different solution. I have been keeping a mental track of my dreams and analyzing them since I was a teenager. I am almost forty now and have found not one dream that doesn't amount to wish fulfillment or the rehashing of old dealings in my life. Even my most carnal wishes of world domination and total annihilation of the human species falls under the manifestation of wants. The rehashing of old shit is the haunting of the past by our subconscious to bring about change because we are so tormented by the outcome. It can also mean we are haunted in a good way too and like the familiar setting of a trip to the beach or the first ice cream cone or something similar that we gravitate to in tough times. We either want or have had. Animalistic and crude and simplistic but accurate. If people didn't want they wouldn't want to live. There would be no desire to bear offspring or procreate the species. We would be mundane until our final hour and then fizzle out like a star on the sky's canvas, never to be seen with only a minimal trace we were ever here. But we don't, because we care enough to want and to dream and are twisted enough to commit vile acts upon each other to justify those ends.
I have no problem with what goes on in my head. Asleep or otherwise I have no issue at all. It is you and yours that have issue with my thoughts. My classification of mentally ill by way of severe depression and anxiety is a manifestation of your fears, for I know exactly what I do and don't give a damn beyond my own reasoning or needs. I have met most, if not all, of my wants through the ages with very little help from outside sources like family and friends. It troubles people to believe some of us are not conforming to the mass-stupification that all things have to be rosy 100% of the time. I like the melancholy me that is haunted by rapes and beatings and men thrown through plate glass windows and fighting with every last gasping breathe for what I believe in. Amorous at that! I am even more mystified by my own acceptance of the basic principles of why I am here and am no longer cluttered by "what ifs" for there are none, only the "what is'." I eat, I sleep, I shit, I piss, I fornicate at my own will, with or without the aide of another. I will kill if my time has come to do so and I will do so merciless and without regret. I don't regret picking my nose as a child nor do I regret anything my body can do whether it be dream or die or cause strife into another's existence. It is sad when I affect so many without even trying but definitely not depressing. I am only depressed because it is the only explanation for why I am so angry and quick to the take. I will confess to trying to right the world as I am molded. But we all do that. Four decades of being fed the stories of a lifetime and then finding out the truths and that they aren't as demonic as the rest would have you believe tends to allow you a certain crazy/mental STABILITY that others lack and fear, so to make themselves validated will explain you as ill or sick and inferior, however they can classify it. I am aware of almost every dream I have had and been able to swallow the jagged little pills along with a heaping helping of the lies fed to me when I was young. Anybody who tells you they never thought about doing in the existence of another or wreaking havoc on their foe is a liar. Acting on those thoughts is what separates the men from the boys. Pure and simple. This is not an allowance to you to randomly and without merit be a shit. But if that time should come when it means everything to make a stand and lay on some heat and take the life of another, then make sure your facts are straight and you follow through. That whole don't draw or point a gun unless you intend to pull the trigger works too! I'm an easy read. If you find you seem to be dwelling on the list of people that my world can live without, it would be a good thing to keep your distance and to stay away from what is mine, as we all know what is whose at all times. Believe me the English, Spanish and the Vikings knew full and well there was a peoples on this land and yet, they took what they wanted and burned or plagued the rest. If you come to plague me, know I will take back what is mine and that I have instilled my blood and my kith to follow in my footsteps even if those steps lead them to your door!
I know my uniqueness and that I am wired differently than you. There is no justification other than I am what I am. I am not human nor a duck. I will cleave to what is mine and obtain that to which I need and spend the days in between enjoying the fruits of my labor. Nothing more. No unawakened thought is left untouched. Nothing is spared. I am as one in entirety's whole and at peace with who I am. Are you?~mobe's love to her all and her all to her loves.
Many people have tried to prove this man wrong. All sorts of medical and experimental studies have given way to proving the actual rightness of this man's work and I am not here to preach to the choir. I will say simply I concur with his findings and have even tried myself to come to a different solution. I have been keeping a mental track of my dreams and analyzing them since I was a teenager. I am almost forty now and have found not one dream that doesn't amount to wish fulfillment or the rehashing of old dealings in my life. Even my most carnal wishes of world domination and total annihilation of the human species falls under the manifestation of wants. The rehashing of old shit is the haunting of the past by our subconscious to bring about change because we are so tormented by the outcome. It can also mean we are haunted in a good way too and like the familiar setting of a trip to the beach or the first ice cream cone or something similar that we gravitate to in tough times. We either want or have had. Animalistic and crude and simplistic but accurate. If people didn't want they wouldn't want to live. There would be no desire to bear offspring or procreate the species. We would be mundane until our final hour and then fizzle out like a star on the sky's canvas, never to be seen with only a minimal trace we were ever here. But we don't, because we care enough to want and to dream and are twisted enough to commit vile acts upon each other to justify those ends.
I have no problem with what goes on in my head. Asleep or otherwise I have no issue at all. It is you and yours that have issue with my thoughts. My classification of mentally ill by way of severe depression and anxiety is a manifestation of your fears, for I know exactly what I do and don't give a damn beyond my own reasoning or needs. I have met most, if not all, of my wants through the ages with very little help from outside sources like family and friends. It troubles people to believe some of us are not conforming to the mass-stupification that all things have to be rosy 100% of the time. I like the melancholy me that is haunted by rapes and beatings and men thrown through plate glass windows and fighting with every last gasping breathe for what I believe in. Amorous at that! I am even more mystified by my own acceptance of the basic principles of why I am here and am no longer cluttered by "what ifs" for there are none, only the "what is'." I eat, I sleep, I shit, I piss, I fornicate at my own will, with or without the aide of another. I will kill if my time has come to do so and I will do so merciless and without regret. I don't regret picking my nose as a child nor do I regret anything my body can do whether it be dream or die or cause strife into another's existence. It is sad when I affect so many without even trying but definitely not depressing. I am only depressed because it is the only explanation for why I am so angry and quick to the take. I will confess to trying to right the world as I am molded. But we all do that. Four decades of being fed the stories of a lifetime and then finding out the truths and that they aren't as demonic as the rest would have you believe tends to allow you a certain crazy/mental STABILITY that others lack and fear, so to make themselves validated will explain you as ill or sick and inferior, however they can classify it. I am aware of almost every dream I have had and been able to swallow the jagged little pills along with a heaping helping of the lies fed to me when I was young. Anybody who tells you they never thought about doing in the existence of another or wreaking havoc on their foe is a liar. Acting on those thoughts is what separates the men from the boys. Pure and simple. This is not an allowance to you to randomly and without merit be a shit. But if that time should come when it means everything to make a stand and lay on some heat and take the life of another, then make sure your facts are straight and you follow through. That whole don't draw or point a gun unless you intend to pull the trigger works too! I'm an easy read. If you find you seem to be dwelling on the list of people that my world can live without, it would be a good thing to keep your distance and to stay away from what is mine, as we all know what is whose at all times. Believe me the English, Spanish and the Vikings knew full and well there was a peoples on this land and yet, they took what they wanted and burned or plagued the rest. If you come to plague me, know I will take back what is mine and that I have instilled my blood and my kith to follow in my footsteps even if those steps lead them to your door!
I know my uniqueness and that I am wired differently than you. There is no justification other than I am what I am. I am not human nor a duck. I will cleave to what is mine and obtain that to which I need and spend the days in between enjoying the fruits of my labor. Nothing more. No unawakened thought is left untouched. Nothing is spared. I am as one in entirety's whole and at peace with who I am. Are you?~mobe's love to her all and her all to her loves.
Monday, March 7, 2011
Worth Waiting For
the value of a desired object is also in accordance to what it is worth waiting for. Desire is a complicated emotion because it brings to question a person's tastes or opinions, and not everyone would agree. Some feel drained and feel like they are running up against a brick wall on that fact while others could care less. The truth is it is a good thing we don't all crave the same things or attention from one another as the diversity makes it all worth having in general.
Right now as you are sleeping you are listening to your subconscious hashing out old business to the want of wish fulfillment. Dreams are our way of "winning" in the long run and most everyone has dreams of want and desire. Even some of the most darkest dreams from the most uncivilized peoples are a manifestation of want and wishing. I myself confess to the perverse world of the subconscious and it's way of eradicating what we don't want to be tied to and achieving that to which we want to obtain. When at my darkest hour I wished for my end. Only my rational self couldn't allow it to happen for fear of the safety and the ramifications to my child. So, in my dreams, I would fantasize about her and my end. It bothered me. It still does but I understand it for what it is. I could never ever harm a hair on her head and she knows it, but in the end we rode off to some nirvana together and left this world. I never saw it as ending our existence, for to me and my beliefs it was the passage from one plane of existence to another, higher and better plane. Most would be ashamed to admit this so openly but as I promised, there are no secrets. This is for her, this blog and all I write and leave behind are for her. She knows most of this already and understands far more than most adults do or her peers.
I don't want to die painfully but I have seen my future time and again and know this will come to pass. Dying is not a "just" situation to talk about because of the nature of most peoples' fears that I seem to lack. I welcome it as well as a kiss from a tot on my cheek for a dolly given. Love is no different than death. Most will argue whether it is an emotion or not but death isn't an emotion either, for those of you who entertain that ideal that they aren't. We crave death, our own or others and we desire love from both ends as well. My love currently is under reconstruction to be built yet again while under the heart of another. He is away and is coming "home" soon but I know we will not get our chance to be together because his obligations will keep him away as most assuredly mine will keep me here. When I lay my head down tonight, I will find my wishes manifested in the dreams that unfold of how we will be with one another and the intimacy between us. They will be interrupted a few times by other wants and desires but right now, in this moment, what I want now is him. I am not sad or pissed or angry. I accept that we are who we are and will be who we will be, and we have to either accept what the fates have in store or admit a wrong fit and find a more suitable block to which we can build our love upon. We both are treading hazardous and dark waters because we both have rocky pasts and skeletons that haunt us to this day. I don't know if we will survive but I know I want to make a genuine effort and am hoping that is a common goal for us both. We will find out in due time for sure. It's been a long time for us and we spend it a couple times a week in each others company from afar getting to know one another. Only now he is on his way home to take care of his daily life issues and will more than likely not have time to visit before returning to his unusual career schedule. For now he makes me happy and makes me laugh and keeps me in line and even sends some of the sweetest and tenderest moments that make me just find more worth in him than he may have in himself. He is worth waiting for and I know when the time comes he will not disappoint me and I hope I am what he has been dreaming on. I want to be the one that he finds worth waiting for. So, I make peace with that fact and I sit on the shore of life looking out upon its rocky waters and wait for that ship to come in. Heaven has no place for us when it does, for we will behave like two unruly children and heathens for sure with our giggling and chuckling and our kisses and hugs. Know that he is missed, as I'm sure each and everyone of us is throughout our lives. He finds it odd that I can say that I missed him. He doesn't understand how a person can miss something that isn't tangible. Until he sees me and accepts me I am not tangible to him and I am ok with it like this. I cannot dictate what he thinks and feels but I won't stop telling and sharing mine and he will soon see that I was genuine in my account of missing him. Maybe he may even get what the fuss is all about too-who knows?~mobe's
Right now as you are sleeping you are listening to your subconscious hashing out old business to the want of wish fulfillment. Dreams are our way of "winning" in the long run and most everyone has dreams of want and desire. Even some of the most darkest dreams from the most uncivilized peoples are a manifestation of want and wishing. I myself confess to the perverse world of the subconscious and it's way of eradicating what we don't want to be tied to and achieving that to which we want to obtain. When at my darkest hour I wished for my end. Only my rational self couldn't allow it to happen for fear of the safety and the ramifications to my child. So, in my dreams, I would fantasize about her and my end. It bothered me. It still does but I understand it for what it is. I could never ever harm a hair on her head and she knows it, but in the end we rode off to some nirvana together and left this world. I never saw it as ending our existence, for to me and my beliefs it was the passage from one plane of existence to another, higher and better plane. Most would be ashamed to admit this so openly but as I promised, there are no secrets. This is for her, this blog and all I write and leave behind are for her. She knows most of this already and understands far more than most adults do or her peers.
I don't want to die painfully but I have seen my future time and again and know this will come to pass. Dying is not a "just" situation to talk about because of the nature of most peoples' fears that I seem to lack. I welcome it as well as a kiss from a tot on my cheek for a dolly given. Love is no different than death. Most will argue whether it is an emotion or not but death isn't an emotion either, for those of you who entertain that ideal that they aren't. We crave death, our own or others and we desire love from both ends as well. My love currently is under reconstruction to be built yet again while under the heart of another. He is away and is coming "home" soon but I know we will not get our chance to be together because his obligations will keep him away as most assuredly mine will keep me here. When I lay my head down tonight, I will find my wishes manifested in the dreams that unfold of how we will be with one another and the intimacy between us. They will be interrupted a few times by other wants and desires but right now, in this moment, what I want now is him. I am not sad or pissed or angry. I accept that we are who we are and will be who we will be, and we have to either accept what the fates have in store or admit a wrong fit and find a more suitable block to which we can build our love upon. We both are treading hazardous and dark waters because we both have rocky pasts and skeletons that haunt us to this day. I don't know if we will survive but I know I want to make a genuine effort and am hoping that is a common goal for us both. We will find out in due time for sure. It's been a long time for us and we spend it a couple times a week in each others company from afar getting to know one another. Only now he is on his way home to take care of his daily life issues and will more than likely not have time to visit before returning to his unusual career schedule. For now he makes me happy and makes me laugh and keeps me in line and even sends some of the sweetest and tenderest moments that make me just find more worth in him than he may have in himself. He is worth waiting for and I know when the time comes he will not disappoint me and I hope I am what he has been dreaming on. I want to be the one that he finds worth waiting for. So, I make peace with that fact and I sit on the shore of life looking out upon its rocky waters and wait for that ship to come in. Heaven has no place for us when it does, for we will behave like two unruly children and heathens for sure with our giggling and chuckling and our kisses and hugs. Know that he is missed, as I'm sure each and everyone of us is throughout our lives. He finds it odd that I can say that I missed him. He doesn't understand how a person can miss something that isn't tangible. Until he sees me and accepts me I am not tangible to him and I am ok with it like this. I cannot dictate what he thinks and feels but I won't stop telling and sharing mine and he will soon see that I was genuine in my account of missing him. Maybe he may even get what the fuss is all about too-who knows?~mobe's
Sunday, March 6, 2011
Libra's Fairness Weighed
isn't it amazing how a debate can break out over the course of discussion as two sides see things quite differently? What one person finds fair is not what another would and I have been told that fairness is an archaic concept. I don't buy it and neither should you.
Fairness is knowing right from wrong. Every war on this planet through the ages is brought about by the same simple argument over what is fair and what is not. People try to cajole and wheedle their way into your possessions or ideals as if they have a right and exclaim it was the gods/god that told them so. They feel empowered to invoke a spiritual excuse that holds no merit when their very same gods/god has given them clear and defined laws as it were that they run to hide behind and ignore at their leisure. Life is about choice and there is an inherent choice between what is acceptable and what is not. It is never good to kill but I would do so in a quickness should the need arise and I would have not one iota of remorse for my means are justified in mine own eyes. Let someone mess with my kid and see how far I take "thou shalt not kill" to "get me a rope" because when I am done enjoying my task I will hang them up as a lesson for all to see and be forewarned, just as my great grandfather would have done! Hell, he was notorious for the chopping off of the heads of his enemies and staking them in front of him home as if to say "thou shall not put US UNDER or bring harm to what is within these walls" and I am quite humbly enamored with his core sense of family values. My own father was meek and would never defend so carnally nor would he ever be true to his inherent animal nature, that we all have, some more than others.
I will kill and I have lied. But you can count each arduous task on one hand collectively together. I reserve the right to be a heathen if I so choose BECAUSE I accept the consequences of my actions! There's a statement that is rare to find. Most people don't take responsibility so also cannot fathom fairness. Things are replaceable, people are not. How you treat another is permanent. Whether it be to end another's life or give one theirs, then it is so. Nothing is more permanent then the inside scars we give each other. You can tell a woman she is beautiful a thousand times and later in anger tell her once she's a hag and she will never forget the insult. The same is true for men as well. Why lie? You will be found out eventually. Even if you are pissed at each other, to what end is the insult, if it is untrue, going to make a bit of difference other than to erase any happiness you once had and replace it with what amounts to what you are. Life is ugly and the truth may be so as well but a lot more people would find some satisfaction in it than without it.
I would consider myself a fair individual. Most of the men and women I have had as partners will even tell you so today that I was fair to a fault. My fairness never ended a damn thing and even led to some pretty interesting chapters in my life. Handling the "fair" side of things is another story, as some have a problem with it. I am cold and true to my fairness and it really pisses most off after awhile as they seem to think I am cut from the same clothe as they are. And I wish they were the same tie-dye print of a person I am. Dream on, right? I know why my relationships ended. I am not angry anymore and accept full responsibility and still would not change. I have raised my daughter to be similar in nature knowing full well she will have a hard time of it unless she is lucky enough to have a mate who is like herself. I hope she loves with every cell and attacks with every cell and hates with every cell and is excited with every cell as well as laugh. I want her to have a full and vivacious life and I know she shall whether I am still in existence or not. What fairness she finds will be her own to choose just as mine has been.~mobe's love to her all and her all to her loves.
Fairness is knowing right from wrong. Every war on this planet through the ages is brought about by the same simple argument over what is fair and what is not. People try to cajole and wheedle their way into your possessions or ideals as if they have a right and exclaim it was the gods/god that told them so. They feel empowered to invoke a spiritual excuse that holds no merit when their very same gods/god has given them clear and defined laws as it were that they run to hide behind and ignore at their leisure. Life is about choice and there is an inherent choice between what is acceptable and what is not. It is never good to kill but I would do so in a quickness should the need arise and I would have not one iota of remorse for my means are justified in mine own eyes. Let someone mess with my kid and see how far I take "thou shalt not kill" to "get me a rope" because when I am done enjoying my task I will hang them up as a lesson for all to see and be forewarned, just as my great grandfather would have done! Hell, he was notorious for the chopping off of the heads of his enemies and staking them in front of him home as if to say "thou shall not put US UNDER or bring harm to what is within these walls" and I am quite humbly enamored with his core sense of family values. My own father was meek and would never defend so carnally nor would he ever be true to his inherent animal nature, that we all have, some more than others.
I will kill and I have lied. But you can count each arduous task on one hand collectively together. I reserve the right to be a heathen if I so choose BECAUSE I accept the consequences of my actions! There's a statement that is rare to find. Most people don't take responsibility so also cannot fathom fairness. Things are replaceable, people are not. How you treat another is permanent. Whether it be to end another's life or give one theirs, then it is so. Nothing is more permanent then the inside scars we give each other. You can tell a woman she is beautiful a thousand times and later in anger tell her once she's a hag and she will never forget the insult. The same is true for men as well. Why lie? You will be found out eventually. Even if you are pissed at each other, to what end is the insult, if it is untrue, going to make a bit of difference other than to erase any happiness you once had and replace it with what amounts to what you are. Life is ugly and the truth may be so as well but a lot more people would find some satisfaction in it than without it.
I would consider myself a fair individual. Most of the men and women I have had as partners will even tell you so today that I was fair to a fault. My fairness never ended a damn thing and even led to some pretty interesting chapters in my life. Handling the "fair" side of things is another story, as some have a problem with it. I am cold and true to my fairness and it really pisses most off after awhile as they seem to think I am cut from the same clothe as they are. And I wish they were the same tie-dye print of a person I am. Dream on, right? I know why my relationships ended. I am not angry anymore and accept full responsibility and still would not change. I have raised my daughter to be similar in nature knowing full well she will have a hard time of it unless she is lucky enough to have a mate who is like herself. I hope she loves with every cell and attacks with every cell and hates with every cell and is excited with every cell as well as laugh. I want her to have a full and vivacious life and I know she shall whether I am still in existence or not. What fairness she finds will be her own to choose just as mine has been.~mobe's love to her all and her all to her loves.
Men are From Mars; Women want Hershey's
a day late and a twenty short (hey inflation ...ok?) and all I keep thinking about are the good men and women who never give each other a fare shake. Wives dare not shake the boat and the men won't stand up. Where have all the cowboys and secret agents and knights run off to? (I'm a chick so it is natural for me to be looking for what I need but it goes both ways folks!)
It isn't as if it is some big deal. I do remember a time when the sexes were defined and lived mostly amicably together. Yes I would say I am half feminist but I am half male chauvinist pig too. I see the points on both end. I am also to blame as well as all of you. But I, at least, have a better excuse as it is my nature to my species that I am dominant and never yielding. You all don't have that excuse. Men don't want to be "men" anymore. This is not a gay bashing ploy or reference here. When was the last time a door was held open? When was the last time he would walk a half pace behind you with his hand gently on your forearm guiding you as if in a romantic waltz when you walk together? Where is the lighter kept in his pocket to light your cigarette before you even have it out of the case? (I do carry a case-hard shell antique for just such a man!) These things have disappeared. Men have left their homes and left children fatherless and forced the mom to go to work and then come home for her second shift. Even now the father's who are at home go to work and she goes to work but when they get home it's "quiet time" or "tv time" and everyone has to "cow tow" to him. But when she gets home she has the shopping to put away and dinner to cook and laundry to do and so on...I see this everyday. There are very few men out there who know how to be "men" and everyone of them will tell you it's because we don't act like women. And I'm afraid to say it but they're right. Most of us don't act like women because we have no choice but there are some who choose not to because they feel they want their fifteen minutes of fame while trying to break some sexist barrier that need not be broken. We all need to get along and just BE ourselves!
Yes as I have said there are problems with both the sexes and each could sling their own fair share of mud in the war between the two. What I want to know is why can't we just stop it all and start over and try to propel each other forward in appreciation of each's differences rather than trying to decide who is more important than whom. If a child is left motherless at birth because his mom bled out, the father is more than able to take care of the infant. It has been shown time and again. And when the dad's leave or die we women all step up and play mom, dad and coach to our tots. So why can't we all do this together? Why can't he come home from work and do the dishes and help with the laundry or get dinner started while mom is out grocery shopping? Understand this, NO ONE wants to be the one to do the dirty work or to be considered less than. We all need to do it fairly and squarely. I will be your Ms. Vivianne if you be my Edward Lewis...men all want a mom in the home to do things for them and a whore in the bedroom, and find that when they enslave the wife to be their mom they don't like the frumpy bitch who is tired and worn out. Then they seek another whore to replace the one they thought they had who they claim let herself go. Women want a man who is dangerous and protective and a good provider but also want to be dangerous and protective and a provider and then get sick of the meek poor excuse of a man that they have been providing for and protecting. Both are wrong. Get with this people. It isn't women's work to wash your drawers anymore than it is men's work to mow the lawn. My dad cooked and did laundry. I have mowed lawns and shoveled snow...Wake up-we are putting a great divide between each other and what we have left are two peoples who don't even want to make an effort and our kids raising themselves and showing their crotches on television and cameras and internet for attention. Things need to change, and I hate to say it they need to simplify and right quick, think on it.~mobe's love to her all and her all to her loves.
It isn't as if it is some big deal. I do remember a time when the sexes were defined and lived mostly amicably together. Yes I would say I am half feminist but I am half male chauvinist pig too. I see the points on both end. I am also to blame as well as all of you. But I, at least, have a better excuse as it is my nature to my species that I am dominant and never yielding. You all don't have that excuse. Men don't want to be "men" anymore. This is not a gay bashing ploy or reference here. When was the last time a door was held open? When was the last time he would walk a half pace behind you with his hand gently on your forearm guiding you as if in a romantic waltz when you walk together? Where is the lighter kept in his pocket to light your cigarette before you even have it out of the case? (I do carry a case-hard shell antique for just such a man!) These things have disappeared. Men have left their homes and left children fatherless and forced the mom to go to work and then come home for her second shift. Even now the father's who are at home go to work and she goes to work but when they get home it's "quiet time" or "tv time" and everyone has to "cow tow" to him. But when she gets home she has the shopping to put away and dinner to cook and laundry to do and so on...I see this everyday. There are very few men out there who know how to be "men" and everyone of them will tell you it's because we don't act like women. And I'm afraid to say it but they're right. Most of us don't act like women because we have no choice but there are some who choose not to because they feel they want their fifteen minutes of fame while trying to break some sexist barrier that need not be broken. We all need to get along and just BE ourselves!
Yes as I have said there are problems with both the sexes and each could sling their own fair share of mud in the war between the two. What I want to know is why can't we just stop it all and start over and try to propel each other forward in appreciation of each's differences rather than trying to decide who is more important than whom. If a child is left motherless at birth because his mom bled out, the father is more than able to take care of the infant. It has been shown time and again. And when the dad's leave or die we women all step up and play mom, dad and coach to our tots. So why can't we all do this together? Why can't he come home from work and do the dishes and help with the laundry or get dinner started while mom is out grocery shopping? Understand this, NO ONE wants to be the one to do the dirty work or to be considered less than. We all need to do it fairly and squarely. I will be your Ms. Vivianne if you be my Edward Lewis...men all want a mom in the home to do things for them and a whore in the bedroom, and find that when they enslave the wife to be their mom they don't like the frumpy bitch who is tired and worn out. Then they seek another whore to replace the one they thought they had who they claim let herself go. Women want a man who is dangerous and protective and a good provider but also want to be dangerous and protective and a provider and then get sick of the meek poor excuse of a man that they have been providing for and protecting. Both are wrong. Get with this people. It isn't women's work to wash your drawers anymore than it is men's work to mow the lawn. My dad cooked and did laundry. I have mowed lawns and shoveled snow...Wake up-we are putting a great divide between each other and what we have left are two peoples who don't even want to make an effort and our kids raising themselves and showing their crotches on television and cameras and internet for attention. Things need to change, and I hate to say it they need to simplify and right quick, think on it.~mobe's love to her all and her all to her loves.
Friday, March 4, 2011
Bureaucratic Bullshit: Part 2
life is complicated enough without the outside interference of individuals whose main concern is to save some corporate bigwigs money so they won't miss their annual trip to Fiji. My life seems to be one where it is all about buying expensive cars and jewels and furs, but, unfortunately, I don't get to wear any of them because I am buying them for perfect strangers who already have more luxury than should ever be allowed a human being.
No one needs this racket. As if being an overweight mental case who is not quite human isn't enough on one's own plate, they feel necessary to add more to it by forcing me to do their jobs rather than they doing their own. I abhor the medical profession and have for so many years and it comes as a surprise that I could find something to stick up for in that chosen field. I actually hate another entity even more than medicine because they are all that is wrong with medicine to begin with and we all know it comes down to government, and lord knows how many times I curse and throw up the one finger gang signs to really show my love their way! Medicine has been wrong for so many years and I have seen some of its greatest triumphs and some of its worse defeats. Twenty years it took over a hundred educated assholes to solve what was wrong with me and ultimately they didn't, I did. It took them some bit to even allow me to diagnose myself and it was a hard pill for them to swallow but swallow it they did, even one medical professional had gotten fired in the ordeal. So to sit here and have to back them up and point out how they get so corrupt is not so much a great shock as a great loss to me of the love I had for the disdain I held for anyone in a white coat with that penlight they use to check your irises to see if your dumbass is blind or not! My team of mental health professionals are at their wits end handling my psychosis (happy to say I have none) and the exact terminology and diagnosis is this: I am a morbidly obese (meaning my weight contributes to my poor health and is threatening my life regardless of how it got there. It is not a judgement so much as an observation and means nothing about my ability to function or my overall ambition to work and all things physical-to the contrary I am more active than some of my more healthier peers and even my own youthful child...), severe major depressive with anxiety disorder with GERD and EPP and am totally frustrated with the world enough to have suicidal and homicidal tendencies. Nice isn't it? It isn't my doctors' fault that I am what I am and I am so appreciative of how they are trying to work WITH me and allow me my dignity and say on what happens to my self.
So, we take what we know from that and we get here, to today, where the insurance company (rhymes with BET WIFE) feels privileged enough to side-step the government laws of mental illness diagnostics to allow a complete stranger to look over my paperwork and notes from my three doctors and determine that a woman who hates everyone and cannot be near light of any kind, who suffers from multiple fractures often and routinely and has severe chronic inflammatory disease as well as be depressed enough to not give a shit who lives or dies save her kid, and deem her fit for work and social settings. The problem with that diagnosis is that HE would have had to meet me and unless he snuck into my bedroom unawares in the middle of any particular night, he hasn't! I am approved for my long term disability, already, through its full duration but they are trying to see if they can get me off their payroll and cut costs at my and my kid's expense. Somewhere I hear another wealthy couple boarding a plane for some tropical oasis on my money and tax dollars. I have five, count it 5 medical professionals, one primary care physician, a hematologist and oncologist, a psychiatrist, a biophysio-psychologist and a therapist who all think I am mad with a capital M-A-D, and fucked up physically enough to not do a damn thing but rant online! And I am too-I assure you all of this. My genetic predisposition alone is enough to render me useless in the workforce which antagonizes my depression worse because, here's the clincher, I WANT TO GO BACK TO WORK! Doctor's and such don't feel it is safe for me as well as those around me to go back into the workplace. They don't feel I will EVER be able to. I have had enough! They know it and agree that they wouldn't want the amusement park trip I have had for a life and are, somehow, a better peoples for it knowing they had been spared my shit sandwich as it were. I can even hear the almost inaudible sighs when I enter a room for they know no matter how yuck their day was it certainly wasn't as sucking as mine! Who wants to hire a woman who isn't medically cleared to go to work? Who wants the risk of putting her under lights and making her climb stairs with broken legs? Who wants to put themselves or their employees in her path knowing she will blow up, uncensored, at any moment and possibly take a few out with herself? I have been a boss and a pee-on and let me assure you I wouldn't hire me. I wouldn't even make me stand on a street corner selling crystal-meth. But I am "OK'd" to go back to work because some fake psychiatrist acting as a legal counsel for fancy suits who are late for tee-off thinks I am a slacker. FUCK! I have worked everyday since I was 11years old! I have even worked two and three jobs at one time while trying to take care of elderly grandparents and siblings' kids while they went to work and such. I have had money and I have had to scrap about when I didn't. I worked factories stuck in the Iron Age and worked sales floors in heels dealing with multiples of assholes at a time. I have done phone sex! Actually talking to lonely pedophiles and trying to convince them that me beating the shit out of them was more arousing then them playing with some kid off the playground! I have been a chef, teacher, clerk, banker, foreman, singer (yes paid), Avon delivery agent, child care worker, elder care worker, mechanic and just about every middle management to entry level shit sucker you can think of for the last twenty five years-up to 2009 when I decided the world was a better place without my fat ass whining in it. NO ONE calls me a fucking slacker or lazy or weak! FUCK FUCK FUCK!!! My kid is healthy and her boyfriend too and I am broken and confused and scared and depressed and I still can run circles around them physically and intelligently! Of course, I pay dearly for a few days but then I am back up and running around all over again doing shit I ought not to because everyone keeps pushing me and mistaking me for a fucker who is human and gives a shit! I'm done! I'm fed up. I will let you all mow it over for a bit while I go slack some alcohol on my wounds and begin the mental meltdown and strategize what I need to do to make these fuckers see what is really going on.~mobe's love to her all and her all to her loves!
No one needs this racket. As if being an overweight mental case who is not quite human isn't enough on one's own plate, they feel necessary to add more to it by forcing me to do their jobs rather than they doing their own. I abhor the medical profession and have for so many years and it comes as a surprise that I could find something to stick up for in that chosen field. I actually hate another entity even more than medicine because they are all that is wrong with medicine to begin with and we all know it comes down to government, and lord knows how many times I curse and throw up the one finger gang signs to really show my love their way! Medicine has been wrong for so many years and I have seen some of its greatest triumphs and some of its worse defeats. Twenty years it took over a hundred educated assholes to solve what was wrong with me and ultimately they didn't, I did. It took them some bit to even allow me to diagnose myself and it was a hard pill for them to swallow but swallow it they did, even one medical professional had gotten fired in the ordeal. So to sit here and have to back them up and point out how they get so corrupt is not so much a great shock as a great loss to me of the love I had for the disdain I held for anyone in a white coat with that penlight they use to check your irises to see if your dumbass is blind or not! My team of mental health professionals are at their wits end handling my psychosis (happy to say I have none) and the exact terminology and diagnosis is this: I am a morbidly obese (meaning my weight contributes to my poor health and is threatening my life regardless of how it got there. It is not a judgement so much as an observation and means nothing about my ability to function or my overall ambition to work and all things physical-to the contrary I am more active than some of my more healthier peers and even my own youthful child...), severe major depressive with anxiety disorder with GERD and EPP and am totally frustrated with the world enough to have suicidal and homicidal tendencies. Nice isn't it? It isn't my doctors' fault that I am what I am and I am so appreciative of how they are trying to work WITH me and allow me my dignity and say on what happens to my self.
So, we take what we know from that and we get here, to today, where the insurance company (rhymes with BET WIFE) feels privileged enough to side-step the government laws of mental illness diagnostics to allow a complete stranger to look over my paperwork and notes from my three doctors and determine that a woman who hates everyone and cannot be near light of any kind, who suffers from multiple fractures often and routinely and has severe chronic inflammatory disease as well as be depressed enough to not give a shit who lives or dies save her kid, and deem her fit for work and social settings. The problem with that diagnosis is that HE would have had to meet me and unless he snuck into my bedroom unawares in the middle of any particular night, he hasn't! I am approved for my long term disability, already, through its full duration but they are trying to see if they can get me off their payroll and cut costs at my and my kid's expense. Somewhere I hear another wealthy couple boarding a plane for some tropical oasis on my money and tax dollars. I have five, count it 5 medical professionals, one primary care physician, a hematologist and oncologist, a psychiatrist, a biophysio-psychologist and a therapist who all think I am mad with a capital M-A-D, and fucked up physically enough to not do a damn thing but rant online! And I am too-I assure you all of this. My genetic predisposition alone is enough to render me useless in the workforce which antagonizes my depression worse because, here's the clincher, I WANT TO GO BACK TO WORK! Doctor's and such don't feel it is safe for me as well as those around me to go back into the workplace. They don't feel I will EVER be able to. I have had enough! They know it and agree that they wouldn't want the amusement park trip I have had for a life and are, somehow, a better peoples for it knowing they had been spared my shit sandwich as it were. I can even hear the almost inaudible sighs when I enter a room for they know no matter how yuck their day was it certainly wasn't as sucking as mine! Who wants to hire a woman who isn't medically cleared to go to work? Who wants the risk of putting her under lights and making her climb stairs with broken legs? Who wants to put themselves or their employees in her path knowing she will blow up, uncensored, at any moment and possibly take a few out with herself? I have been a boss and a pee-on and let me assure you I wouldn't hire me. I wouldn't even make me stand on a street corner selling crystal-meth. But I am "OK'd" to go back to work because some fake psychiatrist acting as a legal counsel for fancy suits who are late for tee-off thinks I am a slacker. FUCK! I have worked everyday since I was 11years old! I have even worked two and three jobs at one time while trying to take care of elderly grandparents and siblings' kids while they went to work and such. I have had money and I have had to scrap about when I didn't. I worked factories stuck in the Iron Age and worked sales floors in heels dealing with multiples of assholes at a time. I have done phone sex! Actually talking to lonely pedophiles and trying to convince them that me beating the shit out of them was more arousing then them playing with some kid off the playground! I have been a chef, teacher, clerk, banker, foreman, singer (yes paid), Avon delivery agent, child care worker, elder care worker, mechanic and just about every middle management to entry level shit sucker you can think of for the last twenty five years-up to 2009 when I decided the world was a better place without my fat ass whining in it. NO ONE calls me a fucking slacker or lazy or weak! FUCK FUCK FUCK!!! My kid is healthy and her boyfriend too and I am broken and confused and scared and depressed and I still can run circles around them physically and intelligently! Of course, I pay dearly for a few days but then I am back up and running around all over again doing shit I ought not to because everyone keeps pushing me and mistaking me for a fucker who is human and gives a shit! I'm done! I'm fed up. I will let you all mow it over for a bit while I go slack some alcohol on my wounds and begin the mental meltdown and strategize what I need to do to make these fuckers see what is really going on.~mobe's love to her all and her all to her loves!
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