Not Free For Everybody

it would be remiss of me to overlook a crisis taking effect in our current affairs. Our government has misappropriated it resources and funds and now wants us, the taxpayers, to bail it out.

Not only does the burden lie to each and every person but we are made to feel ashamed for not caring for our fellow citizens and veterans who need so much but no longer can provide for themselves. What gets me is this concept that the Social Security that comes our of our income as a tax to aide the poor and ill is something we are all entitled to upon the magical age of inheritance. When the Social Security system was created during the Great Depression it was intended as a back up system to aid those that are too old to support themselves and those regardless of age who are too ill, whether mind or body, to support themselves as well. It was not intended as a retirement fund, but over the years some have seen it as just that to include our government officials who themselves have more abundance of means than most people do. 

The system is flawed yes. We pay a Social Security tax to fill that coffer for those that need. There are federal guidelines put into place to define and describe what is "need" versus what is "able." Now we have a situation where there are no more funds. Retirees receive bonuses and retirements and IRAs and still expect SSI as an extra to their magical age of "inheritance" and it is and has drained our coffers. I see people with two houses who cannot possibly live in both at one time collect more public assistance than one would believe they are entitled. Their medical is inexpensive and there seems to be breaks for all sorts of care and treatment and then they show up to town meetings and explain how they don't want to pay more taxes for school zonings because they don't have children any longer and think "we" the government are taking advantage of "them." My own grandparents did this and complained the whole time and I never understood how they would go through the money they had.

Now I am disabled and some of these elder citizens have to make a determination on my mental capacity and my physical well being. Our elected officials receive the finest of care in the best of hospitals and they decide who gets to receive a transplant and which children can go without a father or mother. We PAY for their healthcare and they refuse to share that wealth and give us the means to pay for our own. We PAY for their estate dinners and meals and we have children and sick and seniors starving. We PAY for their security and transportation while our children walk to school and without bodyguards. We pay for their lavish parties and not one of them ever came up with one thin dime to help put up a balloon at my kid's birthday. 

I know why there SHOULD be a surplus and know why these programs were created. I think it's a dying shame to have so many homes that lie empty fifty weeks out of fifty-two and kids sleeping huddled close to parents on the sidewalks of downtown Miami and New York. I think it's a dying shame that I have to wait over two years for someone who is not an authority on the subject of my disability to decide for me what is substantially a safe amount of light/daylight when all medical documentation suggests ALL light is harmful to my kind. I think it is a dying shame the programs designed to help our poverty-stricken and unwell are designed purposefully flawed so as to not have to mandate "pay-outs" and thus keeping the money in the politicians hands and the FDIC for interest accrued.

Sure we live in a free country. Look how free it is for the politicians who pay for so little yet already have so much. How much free living should the wealthy class get?~mobe's love to her all and her all to her loves.

Singular Consequences

if one is the loneliest number that you ever knew, and two can be as bad as one but the loneliest number is the number one, then why does everyone strive to be on top, alone? Oh wait...that speech was for another planet where people get along well together and actually show ambition despite of inclination.

Anyhoo, it has to be a terrifying existence up there...all alone! I climb and climb and watch a few similar minded people do the same. We're not searching for recognition or money or fame. We are searching for a way out of the primordial ooze that has become the existence of man.

Children scream and holler for their needs and wants and someone is usually there to give it to them. Even more than they probably should get. And as adults we would all scream and hope some paternal or maternal god-like apparition would fall from the sky and grant us our every wish like a parent or faeri godmother. Wake up from your nappy time and mow the fucking lawn!

Eventually the universe will spin inexplicably out of control and fall flat on its ass giggling while all the other galaxies look on in terror realizing how close they came to such an enormous ass and could have been squashed....oh....wait....that's me I'm talking about! Fear me.

I woke up this morning feeling like life was slipping me by and that I had slept far too long and was in a state of panic when I looked at my cell phone's clock on the face and it was displayed that I was only asleep for about four and a half hours tops. It makes me wonder what was so freeking scary that compelled me to wake up too soon with this feeling of "sleep regret" in my heart?

A collective mind is a terrible thing to allow happen. Dissent is the key to propel a civilization forward whether through revolution or evolution. The needs arise out of contempt for the mundane and status quo. There is no reason that could compel me to jump off a bridge because the rest of the world thought it would be a fantastic idea.

Lemmings are rare due to the conformity of their civilization. I can give you so many arguments for why a lonesome life is a truthful and compelling one. Monarchies survived the ages with a "one" thought conceptualization. Sure they want everyone else to think as they wish but they rose alone to that thought before the rest of the herd. Concluding that neither can exist without the other really. Not enough of those that would take the punch in the face for their ideals huh?

I guess it is safe to say I will remain the end of my days as I had begun the first of them, unhappy and too damn intelligent for the likes of man. I may be unwise but at least I will persevere and work through it along the way. Wisdom is not dictated by what someone else needs and mucks through but by experiences unique to each individual there is.

I don't mind really as there is a certain amount of peace that comes with the unrest as a way of balance. It amazes me how many people don't understand fully that balance means the good AND the bad and not just one or the other...I take what I get and I give what I can and that is all I have to offer. ~mobe's love to her all and her all to her loves.

A Human Job

there are things you find in this world that really knock you flat on your ass. Some may even knock the air out of your chest and slam you to the wall. Relationships are like that. It's not to say that we don't want to get roughed up a little bit here and there but I would wish for it to take a break once in a while to catch my breathe before the next wave...

It never takes a break for you when you want it to. It never takes a break when you need it to. It doesn't have to and doesn't need to and what you want or need is of no consequence to what is out there or whether it wants to comply. My moral compass tells me right from wrong and I often wonder if anyone else's does the same, but I am being re-taught to understand theirs doesn't have to. It has been said all I have to do is change MY perception and go with the flow and do what everyone else is doing. It has been said that I don't have anything to prove to anyone and that I don't have to be good all the time or think about others and that I should treat them the way they treat me. The same said people would tell you that it is un-Christian to act on what people do and to act the way you would like to be done. Actually that is a common denominator among all religious factions or most anyway. And if I choose to follow that credo and do unto others like I would have done to me versus do unto them as they do to me; than am I going with the flow of religious zealotry?

In a sense I would have to agree with them. I need to learn to stop worshiping my peers and to start believing in myself and thinking ahead and doing what is best for me. I should try not to make as many waves as possible and it will be hard to overlook the ones I do like the rest of the world. It's just that this isn't me, it isn't the way I am. I don't get why I have to bend to an intolerant world and tolerate their idle lazen attitudes and craptastic ideals! I don't get why for forty years I have proven my worth and proven my capabilities and my value and yet, they tell me I should be more of an asshole like they are. Listen...my forefathers may have been bloody heathens in pain ready to take it out on the world who fucking hated them and labeled them and may have been good at it, but that doesn't mean we have to be. I WANT to bem seriously, but my moral compass is broke and I have a fondness for the continuity of your kind. And this interest has nothing to do with food, as most would have accused my kin of some hundred years ago.

Grasping as the last few strands left of what is my lifeline, I find I don't agree with them. I can be a morally sound person and if I must suffer to do so then so be it. No one wants to suffer but I am sick of every time that I breath, fart, scream, sleep, eat and every other function, someone tells me I am wrong and the whole other world is right. When this has NOT been the case for the "other world" and I have been right there to kick them in the seat of the pants when they were wrong on more than one occasion. Mobe: 1 gajillion/ world: 1. The world can do what it wants, even blow up for all I care but I will not sit quietly and do nothing when my bones and boiling blood know that the only person who has been right has been me when it comes to my life and my child's. Relationships are just that, how we relate to others and being very different than most, it should never surprise me that the consensus wouldn't agree, ever. My father asked me once if it is more important to be right than to be happy. My answer is a resounding "yes" and will always be. My kid would have a far different life today had I not been diligent in believing in myself above the masses that would keep me down. I don't know if that doctor truly thinks he is right all the time and has a worse ego than my own id or if maybe I am wrong this one time, but I will go with my odds as I am the underdog and always seem to come out in the correct side of the track.

It's a shame I see so few people have conviction like that. So few people unwilling to give up the creature comforts to set a decent example and roll up their sleeves and get a job done. So few people who behave...well...like people. It takes someone on the inhuman side of things to do the human things...As far as relationships go, they be as damned as my kind has been for centuries and I assure you I am not to blame for the downfall of the social family unit. Maybe I am the one dinosaur who is clinging to a simpler way of life and trying to bring a continuity to the fine examples of how to behave to one another, something that was lost.~mobe's love to her all and her all to her loves.

Individuals: Part 25

the sadness comes at a cost. I did this and I alone can fix what I did. I may not have broke myself, maybe I came defective, maybe those I was given to the guardianship of broke me, but either way I am broke and I keep picking apart the splinters of my carcass apart and I need to stop doing this.

I perceive the world as capable of knowing right from wrong. This is a flaw. Not just mine either, and it has caused me great unhappiness with the expectations I hold myself to and others as well. The ideal of wrongs and rights is a perception and only a perception because environment dictates a person's actions. I keep telling myself I am a good person and for the most part I would agree, but I wish so much to NOT be and this is a moral short-coming I have.

I spent the day crying yesterday. I DO have a beautiful daughter and have a pretty fair life when others suffer far worse, but I am truly unhappy and not content with it. I know there is more to life. I know there is more that could have been done and could have been achieved and could have been added to my hope chest to utilize better. I know there is so much that has passed me by in my grief. I have been grieving for far too long.

Some will tell you it is because I haven't found god. Some will tell you it is because I am unwise or too smart without application. I refuse to accept that my life is a lie. To sit and admit I am unwise or ignorant would make me a fool. I am not a fool though am capable of foolish things. This is the little shred of humanity I claim. No one could be more happy to find out they don't belong! No one would be as relieved as I was/am to know who and what they truly are but it still doesn't make me happier or wiser or content.

I am still learning. I don't want to but have yielded to the fact that I am and this is tiring. I want to be a slacker like so many others have become. I want to be "retired" from life and just be peaceful and calm, but I will never be peaceful and clam without accepting what I am completely. I haven't done this yet. I am still struggling with how I came to be, unlike most of you. Sure a man and a woman...but I am not blood of their blood or flesh of their flesh. By humanity standards I am tainted and I see this taint as running deeper than thought or body.

What do I do? Who do I turn to when there is NO ONE of my own kind to teach me? I am alone. People don't like to hear that because I do have friends and family. But as a species of my own person I am alone. I have to teach my child and there is no one and has been no one to teach me so I feel like a sparrow lost in flight. My body is still strong for a human but so weak for our kind and my mind is broke. I am a crippled bird and I am afraid. I must keep going and give her all I have and hope the fates are kind and can give her the things I was unable to...~mobe's love to her all and her all to her loves.

PSA #666

have you ever been so good at being so bad that they had to ween you off the "tit" of the corporate drug companies' prescription psyche meds because they aren't effective enough to control your disdain? (just checking)

It's been a hell of a day in the land of mobe. I feel wired and tired and "on" without a purpose, which must be better than "off" with nothing done. It isn't easy and my mental health state has just seceded from the union that is the United States of Mobe. USM has been fighting a good war but now needs each and everyone of you to send 1$ and a self addressed stamped envelope to 1111 Nowhere, no way, no how Avenue, Instability 06660. Please allow three weeks for your F.Y. response and thank you card for your donation to the militant efforts~mobe's love to her all and her all to her loves.

I Dare You!

mean! Just plain vile and aggressively mean. Not one nice bone in her body and you wonder, what could have made her this way?

Trust me. It is an answer best left to be never uncovered. I like being mean. Sure, I often wonder what it would be like to be ignorant and foolish and sweet and nice. I even spend time guessing as to what I would do after choking myself with a dirty rope too! I am mean. To myself and my child and my lovers and family. No one is spared and there is glorious beauty in accepting what role and part I play in this world.

Having the logic and memory is where it is at. You can take me or throw me away and either way it won't change my kindness for others. I will minister and teach and preach and lay beside the most ignorant of souls all the while chiding myself for the needy state of affairs I led myself into. Who else does this? Seriously! I love myself and have a healthy, more than healthy sense of self but feel it necessary to constantly prostrate (not the nut sack gland-look it up!) myself for being remotely human. I have been catching myself doing this for some time and only now, upon hearing of my inhumanity, do I accept that it is okay to err once in awhile and do so at the risk of being confused as such. When I was perceived as human it was most erroneous to me to even be clumped into the faction. How mean can you get when you won't let yourself sleep for all the punishment you bring to your hat?

Hilarity and funny and seriously warped really. But I do what I can and contribute where necessary and challenge each pair of eyes and ears to either read or listen to what contributions they have provided this shared world, this shared experience. Who will tell all their tales or all their secrets? Who will piss off those they supposedly love for the sake of art? Who will come to the fire and burn themselves with labels and stand naked in front of the masses for judgment? I will. I am. I have. I shall continue to do so until there is no more mobility of mouth and fingers to spell out the story. And...even then...I can blink it to someone in Morse, can't I?~mobe's love to her all and her all to her loves.

A Sharp Tongue II

did you ever have to make up a day? No particular day but even maybe several at once?...I am desperately trying to do just that! Very feeble at best. I never seem to run out of words or points to the madness within me but sometimes find it so damn hard to keep on track. These few days have been spent trying to explain this all to you.

this is the best I can do. Don't worry to those that have read this alone, the one before was equally to the bone and equally just an abrasive offer to the opposite of sex....

you've been spotted coyly spinning your lies

and worshiping things to your own demise

when you laid in your claws to what you did not own and trying to usurp the bitch on the throne 

when all other sluts on the street know their place

and their home and the dirts that fall upon with trace

of a sadness and pity but cat-like prowl

or toddering bothering shrewish growl
with your eyes all made up but not hiding your age and the clothes that you wear three sizes smaller a page
out of books you won't read and the car you won't drive
do you really think now that you're able to survive
if I shall throw down glove in a fit for a fight
you will whimper and priss and excuse for no might
this has troubled me some for the gossip I hear
and the groupies that follow to bathroom in fear
of your mirth and your word like godly remark
I shall sit and lie in wait for you in the dark and hold can full of pressure to flame and I'll throw
making you stand out slightly like a beacon on row
and will laugh oh so hysterically clutching my sides all in pain
for this is one of my moment's greatest disdain

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

A Sharp Tongue I

did you never have to make up behind? Behind the schedule and ahead of a train wreck that is...I am desperately trying to do just that! Very feeble at best. I never seem to run out of words or points to the madness within me but sometimes find it so damn hard to keep on track. These few days have been spent trying to explain this all to you.

this is the best I can do. Don't worry to those that read on from here out, I will have an equally abrasive offer to the opposite of sex....

to the twats that cry for what they've not and the dicks and pricks alike
you see and want oh just too much that it makes us all so sick from trite
when you strive for gain and destruction sake and make a noisy nasty show
should I grab a rifle from the top-est shelf and rid you with one blow?
for the lazy lusty loser pack with the IQ of twenty-one
and the tiny little membered card showing all that's said and done
you have gained my attention though not sure 'twas your intent
and will be surprised and may well defend
your right to whine and tantrum stock
when the shit you ate was the shit I got
I bequeath to you for ignorance placed more knowledge to erase that face
of all the fake and pretentious farce of slacker, poser, idiot sparse
and now you will be a learned man and must do your part with your own hand
to cast a pebble in the pool and create a logical rift or two and not just the spurning shoddy type
you will work so hard for all your life and toil in lands not fit to own
nothing here is true or even home
you will toil for all eternity sake for all the damned destruction made and I wish
the frontest row of seats and the finest of cinematic treats to witness your passion for what you feel pain
it is my greatest day's disdain!

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

A Realm

moving forward through time and space to a realm I have never been to before. In order to clear my mind of all thoughts and deeds. I want and hope and need but I have to put them aside in order to propel myself forward. It is a never-ending cycle and one to which I cannot escape. I am stuck here, spinning out of control looking aimlessly for some kinship, some belonging, something my own.

It isn't easy. No one even gave me the impression it would be despite the media bombardment we have up close and personal. I am searching for a nirvana that may not exist but I walk no more slowly knowing it may all be for naught. Where and when and who and what are questions that constantly drag at my legs like a ball and chain made of iron will. I am forced to dance at their query and answer their beck and call only to feel empty when I am through of reason and rite.

It is a dark realm and day that celebrates the folly of men and women alike. It is a dark night indeed. Awash in the sweat of the working class and the class of those who wouldn't sweat that makes this such an arduous task for me to uphold. I am weary. I am spent. I am telling all this to no one in particular and yet, I feel the ears pricked up by my incessant wails of malcontent. I am a child. There is no wall for me to lean on and no comforting hand to pat my back letting me know all is well.

I don't really mind, or so I keep telling myself to make the sting subside all the quicker. I am just as easily capable of lying to myself so see no need in dabbling in the lies of others. I have never seen use in lies of all sorts and will bend the truths as far as the backbone of the matter will lend. Beyond that I will omit and edit in favor of a full outcome. I am a god in my universe and maybe that is why I aimlessly search for others and feel a sense of aloneness. I feel a sense of absolute absence of others. I feel a sense of loss.

I am lost. I am god-like and I am not alone, but I cannot see for all my sight and cannot hear for all my ears and cannot taste for all my tongue and cannot speak for all my throat and cannot rest for all the cots. I am my own worst enemy so please do not trouble yourself into believing your squabbling squawk will pierce my bubble long enough to give a damn to what you wont-on.

I like the unexpected moments in this world. I enjoy the complete lack of direction and point to everything and enjoy the difficult task of trying to righten things up. It is one achievement well wasted in my book. The dedication to an art of unexplainable reason. My own perverse little attempt to martyrize my existence on the wall of life. Absolute absurdity and blasphemous intention, dontcha think?~mobe's love to her all and her all to her loves.

Individuals: Part 24

undeniable is the fact that existence is a matter of whom believes. Myth or legend most all things fantastic can be explained one way or another with enough knowledge. Fear is begat from the lack of knowledge and when we don't know what's going on we tend to fill in the blanks. Unfortunately not one of us is a god so when the blanks are filled they are filled with the regret and loathing from the mind that wanders alone. This is how I came to be. This is how my kind came to be and now...I fight to rewrite my history and my forefathers' history.

So why do I keep coming back to the past? Because those that do not learn from the past are deemed to relive it time and again. I have seen this and accept it as a fact in my world. I have three marriages, seven lost children and one viable offspring that have proven that last statement. I am unique but no more so than you as each of us has our own tale. I just make it a point to be informed on my tale as thoroughly as I am capable. So you wonder if I fill in the blanks? Well I do. But I try to fill them in logically and leave out, and if not explain the myths whenever necessary. If I can't explain it then I will make a tribute of the lack of knowledge and find peculiar "funnies" on the subject to pun out the points (yes I said that right!). I am who I am and whether those that wish to remain ignorant want to believe it or not I cannot change my DNA. I cannot change my genes anymore than you can change yours. I am Wamphyrii and all that entails.

People think I make things up, and for the most part when I write a story it is made up, but for the truths it holds most all I write is from my own mind and wishes, as well as my own stark reality. It has always been this way. Every writer makes stuff up or stretches the truth and imagination. I am just capable of writing artistically so the reader can understand the plight of the hero or heroine or chump as it were. Each time I tell a tall tale of a deed done it was my own blood pouring into it. It is the stuff of legends of old, really, as old storytellers would gather by a fire to share the rifts of the past. We will seep ourselves into what we are and what we speak. Tonight I write for me.

I'm not trying to be selfish and it is okay for you to read or comment on such, but I need to get things clean off of my person. I am not what people would call unhappy. I am merely without a happy place to go to. I do not live with the delusion that a happy place exists and find most things in life an analytical prospect from the get go. My anger is out in the open and not bottled up like a keg ready to blow. I am not a person who exists in the real world and neither do my ways and ideals as well. I am the stuff that makes people stay awake at night either dreaming of my world or fearful of what they think I am based upon the lies they have told one another through the ages. The truth is, I am tired of being a symbol of non existence to them. I am very worn out trying to right the wrongs. But I keep trying in the hopes that my Lobo and others like her and myself can not be perceived as "unbelievable" and myth. I want people to stop looking upon us as the "Pluto" of our microcosmic solar system, the planet that wasn't. I wonder how each and every one of you would feel if you were told you weren't entirely human and that every thing you have felt since the day you were born is not only validated but valid, and that the people who kept you down and blamed you for being different as if they felt you were working towards the goal, a life of shame and shunning, were wrong, dead wrong. Think on it...~mobe's love to her all and her all to her loves.

A Storm Within

the crack of a whip and the fall of the beast as the great dark hunter shows feral teeth stained in the blood of its ancestral battles. This one will be fought through rain and darkness like so many others before it. This one will break bones and smash wills and vanquish dreams.

When the last bead of sweat falls to the ground far below there will be just you and I and the air thick with our vengeance for the crimes we have committed and were committed against us. A crash and slam and another before our bodies fall into a heap together with backs to, heaving and coughing the gasps of fatigue. We are spent and still angry with one another to the point of tears. We shed them in unison one by one until the earth below us swells and rolls with the winds whipping water like stones at everything it can touch. Our anger caused this and we know no longer what we were fighting for.

In an instant we find there are no more wet drops to fall from our eyes and we start laughing and with each guffaw the air cleans up like the chalk from a blackboard being swiped away by the fluff of the eraser. We laugh some more in our tribute to the blood we shed and the fight we gave and the looks upon our faces. We laughed each and every cloud away and the sun shone upon our face giving us renewed strength as we sat together watching it dip low in the water pools created by our sobs. It is setting now and the storm has passed and nothing can be heard but the rustling of the nigh' creatures and their families in search of the eternal nourishment of the eve.

Such is life and death in an instant. Such is the storm and gusts that blew us over. Such is the tempest within our hearts, for those of us with one. Such is. The weather can change at a given moment in time and then recede like the tides upon a moon phase. Thunder rolls within each and every one of you. Lightning flashes in everyone's eyes. Rain falls on all living things' faces. And the sun shines for all, even the Wamphyrii, as a means of letting us know when the storm has passed. Enjoy those moments and look back on them with the eyes of a babe. Take nothing for granted and be peaceful. If you must fight then fight until you are tired and are able to make the sky change in favor of a treaty...let it roll past. ~mobe's love to her all and her all to her loves.

Manufacturer Woes...

manufacturers are feeling my wrathe this evening. It has been one of those days and tonight I am a tired junky with a monkey that won't quit until I have had my say.

Why is it that when something is made that actually works, they have to "yank" it as "old and out-dated" only to replace the damn thing with something way inferior. I am not asking so much as observing but just go with it. The same can be said for people, but I can see where they all get off being slackers when the companies responsible for the marketing of new merchandise and product development and research are more concerned about slipping their grubby little sausages into my back pocket (I actually keep my wallet between my breasts but the idea of sausages slipping in and out of my chest was too comical to print! >NOT!<) and remove as much of my hard earned money as they can. Why is it this new shit always breaks the day after the warranty is up. Why is it that if it is something that relies on safety and protocol they have made sure that if it fails you won't be alive to complain or sue. Why is it that no one is standing up and forming a militia...(Oh shit! They did that at Waco and Ruby Ridge-oops, my bad!)...and doing something about this crap?

I have had good luck with taking care of my shit. It is one of the few things the gods of "stuff" have blessed me with. I have had five cars in twenty-two years-yes, that kinda' good! I have had only four cell phones in the last thirteen years. I really DO take care of my shit. I don't necessarily break anything either (you cannot prove it and I was a minor and she asked for it!) so it comes as a shock that I can be a victim of circumstance in most all cases where I have had the misfortune to replace an object. My first car succumbed to the snowy weather up north and the salty conditions of the roads. When we brought it down here all that salt erosion became aggravated in the humid climate and the bottom literally fell out of my '77 Mustang II! My second car was a beater I bought from a buy here/pay here lot for the low low price of $900 t/t/t included. It lasted close to six years despite being close to fifteen years old already. Was my first "automatic" too and I don't mean the tranny as I only drive autos. It was the first automatic windowed car and I never looked back. Pontiac really made a sound solid car back then and I was a Ford woman! When I finally traded that '81 Bonneville in running on four of its six cylinders I was given $4000 in trade towards my new car. My next Ford, a Taurus and she was temperamental and comfy. She was respectable for a new mom and intelligent and screamed safe. It took some dumb ass about thirty seconds of adjusting his nuts or whatever "men" do when they are driving "perfectly" and run up over the ass end of the car in the left turn lane in opposing traffic to careen into you head on and render her disabled for life. And they say women suck! Then there was another Taurus I originally bought as a "parts" car for the Green Goddess as she was getting old and didn't want to look old (lmao); I had to put him, yes it was a boy-Hellboy is what I named him because he was big and red, on the road. He cost me $400 and I had to dump $2000 more to make him asphalt worthy only to have him live up to his name 18mos later and catch fire (inside the cockpit) on the way to work. Never NEVER name a car "Hellboy"...name it "fluffy fuzzy bunny poo" instead! So I came to getting the newest car ever. Most cars were four years or older and this one was barely over a year when I cracked her cherry. Another Taurus, fully loaded including a police package not completely removed before sale (*giggles) which basically means it had the SHO engine without the SHO markings to conceal it as it was an undercover vehicle. (NICE! right?) Where was I? *grunts the grunt of proud car gals everywhere.....

So now Miss mobe had to get a new phone. For the first time she herself had caused the damage to her old phone which she had been through thick and thin with. The rundown: I was frustrated (my feeble attempts to excuse my poor treatment to my precious Blackberry) and had the headset plugged (yes! if they give you free gold-port stereo earphones that work like fucking amazing you use them!) in and the receiver plugged into the car charger and for some stoooooopid reason forgot to unplug. I got out of the vehicle and shut the door, on its (the door's) way to being completely shut I realized my faux pas but it was too late, I had committed to the task and heard the horrible >tunk< as I thought it had cut the line either to the headset or the charger. No biggie, they are replaceable for a minimal fee, but it wasn't to be as I opened the door and my poor, sexy, copper-colored, "living" technological baby dramatically rolled out onto the ground and screamed bloody hell at her momma for being such a brute! I was crushed. She had a busted face but her LED display was intact and she could still work. Two days later she has a new face, the "fixers" busted her LED and tried to blame me like I am dumb AND blind and wouldn't have noticed on one of the 500 or so texts/emails/calls over the course of the last 48hrs. She's in a box. Sleeping until I decide to wake her and let my daughter care for her on her 16th birthday. I bought her cousin. A flip. I was told he was compatible with some of her components like her chargers but was lied to. (what a surprise!)

He is almost as big as her. He didn't come in copper nor did he come with his car charger for free like she did! They don't make silicone sheaths for him to protect him. They don't make Bodyglove Neoprene suits either so he could be stylingly-safe. They don't do much except make me worry if he will last the twelve months I have to wait before getting rid of him. I hate him. I am uncomfortable around him. He stares at me (she never did that-she was happy by herself). He dies quicker (just like a man!) and runs out of juice. I miss my phone....they don't make things as nice or as good as they used to...I hear my grandpa telling me this and myself laughing at the old codger and now, I sit sobbing for letting my anger hurt something I love. ~mobe's love to her all and her all to her loves.

The Non Busy With the Biggest Complaints

the times have changed so much that it is hard to recognize yesterday. We gained so much but we have lost more than we wanted to and nobody is wise enough to notice it excepting a few. It's a shame really considering the value of what we have now versus what we have had in the past. It's a crying shame.

I was talking with my future son-in-law about such things today. He and my daughter are two of the laziest but sweetest and morally sound kids I know. The world is worse. It isn't even sweet anymore. We used to have the flu and the stomach bug and now everything has gained a new title to describe the same old things and invoke fear into the people of today to make them more docile and compliant. But there is unrest. Scads of unrest as people instinctively know that things aren't right. We sense that our bodies are starting revolutions against us and that our minds are doing the same. More mentally ill patients per hundred people and more unwell per hundred too. There was a time when people knew how to make love, fix broken bones, cure common colds, suffer a little, suck it up and carry on to long and fruitful lives. Now we have insolent whiny fuckwads who get a paper cut and want to take a day off from work. People don't even bother to "push" themselves anymore or challenge themselves.

I have been with countless men who were completely incapable of caring for themselves. They spent the bulk of their non working day complaining about their buddies and what they all had that they didn't. They wasted so much effort being bitter about shit they had no business bringing to the table. Envy and greed are the foul undoing of men and women alike. I have even met ambitious men who do this and have given up altogether. No one appreciates life anymore so why shouldn't the meek step aside and allow the ravenous to pillage and plunder. At least we will give them all something to appreciate once again and if not, well...it will be a lot quieter when I am through now won't it? It is saddening. My kid and her boyfriend know they are lazy. They are waiting for their "big break" like so many other children. They see other children's parents parade their daughters and sons on television and out in public as if they are living trophies to what dumb asses their gene pool has been watered down to. They want an easier life. It is disturbing when I tell my kid about the things I accomplished at her age and she stares at me blankly and disregards it as wild fantasy on my part but later is shocked to hear that it was exactly as I had stated, if not worse. I will confess that all I achieved was not entirely of my own will. I was pushed and prodded to weed the garden and crawl after a rainstorm for earthworms to fish with and did all manner of manual labor from packing and lugging to cleaning out the attic and getting shit ready for every vacation and loading and unloading the car after we went grocery shopping. My daughter thinks I "slave" her to unload a car from shopping after we went, when we only shop for the two of us and our pets. There were nine people in my family and as many pets. Now it is just Lobo and I and our five cats (+2 babies) and she acts like I'm killing her and should be brought to Cuba and shot on sight!

I am not completely sure I did this and I know I have busted my ass to make her stronger of mind and body. For the most part I have succeeded in that but there are other factors to consider. Divorce is one and when we as adults split apart we make it our sole purpose in life and our sole destiny to undo or undermine every single decision made by the other parent in order to control them from afar. OH YES! I went there! I will admit to have done this myself in the past. But now I just don't have a need to peck and scratch at the poor bastard or twat who "wins" that asshole any! I want my kid to be brought up a certain way but he is quite happy to allow her to run around unsupervised and get hit by a car or attacked by people with no merit. When she is with him he is absent of mind and heart but he insists on taking her, especially if he knows I need her or have plans with her that weekend. Everyone has a "let's see how I can fuck up someone's day" gene.

This is not how I want to go out of this world. I want to know she can sew a forehead when the time comes as I have had to do to her. I need to know she can say "No" to her little brats and follow through when they are misbehaving but to temper her anger so it isn't destructive to them. I want to know she will always communicate with her spouse(s) and talk TO people and not AT people. I want her kids to know that I loved them long before they were born. I want them all to know there is just TOO MUCH work to be done and that they are wasting their lives doing nothing but taking up air and whining. I want to know this whole place won't fall apart when I am gone, having no one to stand here and entertain you and point out the obvious. We have lost ourselves in a fight for greed and I want people to know it is absolutely okay to not take the biggest piece of cake!~mobe's love to her all and her all to her loves.

School of Soft Knocks

moving forward through time and space to a realm I have never been to before. I have had education of the expected kind but not education of the chosen kind per se. I did try to attend community college but left in an arrogant tirade (I know right?!?) because I felt it was bogus to teach someone at their expense the things they already know. I lasted all of two classes in my naive youth. I don't regret that day but wish I would have kept on it and done more or sought another institution in which to flex my efforts and expand my horizons.

Instead I opted for a worldly education and I turned to drugs and alcohol and the people that come with such lifestyles finding my own niche in "mothering" them and looking after them. I saw myself as useful and was content but always angry that I didn't go further in my education. Amazingly I did learn all I had wanted to and only now need some skills to achieve a sense of usefulness again. I can no longer support myself or my child on my pretty face or my irascible wit. I must find an occupation to keep me from going mad and my "arts" are just not cutting it for me. Don't get me wrong, I will never stop spreading the disdain or the poetry of darkness to the masses and I will never close my mind to a song the fates place upon my head in the hopes I would know the words to make it sing proud. So now I understand a need to "do" something with myself to propel me forward. I am wiser and see the secondary education as merely a certificate of completion and skill advancement as opposed to a "status" for societal gains. It doesn't matter if I haven't attended an ivy league school or had gone to a state university and broke the ties of economic tiers. What matters is if you are down and out and are tired of being a "D" list employee with no marketability, then you need to acquire new skills.

I am at this point. Broken, sick and not sure of what time I have left except that I don't have much. I have lost my home and three husbands and many possessions and my health and youth. There really isn't too much more to lose at this point and not certainly anything that would compel me to become "born again" to any degree. But I see no harm in further self improvement efforts and am trying to walk down the avenues that would get me there. No one is ever wise enough, smart enough, articulate enough, useful enough. There is so much to do in this world and I am limited as to what is in my capabilities beyond entertaining the masses with my wit and mirth. It is important to me and to Lobo that I seek another education and outlet to provide for us. Mobe is looking for school and training so keep a heads up in the future for information on her possibly futile efforts!~mobe's love to her all and her all to her loves.

Healing Prayers

memories fade when the attention is not paid. What matters to you today will not be the same as it was yesterday. Of course there will be plenty of time to lament for the things we have lost when our days are short, but for now, most of us just go through life on the basis of need.

Right now in this very moment I have a need to feel nothing more than what is burdening my heart. I am a little lamb lost, but a lamb with teeth and strength of arm. I suffer when mine suffers, and today my Lobo hurts so bad. She will be fine enough, but I have the unhappy task of playing nurse once again, only it is a "third world" knowledge we use because of the financial duress we have fallen under. I cannot afford the luxury of a doctor's visit or an ER visit even with the medical insurance. I cannot even afford to pick up my much needed medications that I am supposed to be taking daily. These are the times you wish you would never have to remember. These are the times of your past that we don't want our children to endure. Only the endurance of such times is a benefit whether we like to hear the wails of the innocent or not.

Lobo went to bed last evening and awoke to use the restroom. Upon going back to bed she inadvertently knocked one of our cats off the bed who then had gotten his hind leg caught between her mattress and box-spring and the frame. He was crying in pain and without thinking she reached down in the dark to free him. A nice gesture but never a wise one because our cats, like all peoples, have separate attitudes and separate temperaments. This was not the sweet tolerant cat. It was the one skittish and abrasive furry who we still love and adore. And in his fear of his plight he grabbed her for salvation and sunk his teeth into her finger almost clear to the bone! Now had he been a dog he would be put down and considered evil and vile and feral. As a cat he still is deemed so because people think animals should behave with more dignity than themselves when it comes to fear and pain. Not so, but whatever. Hiro didn't mean to harm her and even has forgiven her, yes his leg is fine and not broke though she was far more concerned for his safety than her own (I brought her up proper) and it was only a hip dislocation to which he is doing fine this day. But now...her finger...it's bad. I'm not going to lie to you guys and though I haven't told her how bad I suppose it to be I think she knows.

It will heal in the right circumstances but she will always have the reminder, not unlike the lovely scar on the inside of my left ankle, where a cat I loved and adored had ripped me a "new one," exists. She had two small puncture wounds on the topside of her forefinger just below the nail and the bigger one, a tear-puncture, to the bone, is on the second level underneath and deep. I thought about stitching her as I have had the necessity to do so in the past, but also remembered some basic but long forgotten medicinal rules from the past. As deep as it is, to close it now would be grievous and have disastrous results involving gangrene and possible partial if not all digit loss. I feel for her, really I do. I was her age when I was jumping on a bed and the inner frame broke to pin our beloved Siamese underneath and fracturing her tail when she reached out to grab my pants cuff and I tried to pull her free and it wouldn't hold so she sunk her teeth into my leg deep and was dragged out by her bite and my might alone. Fortunately she severed a nerve in the process, unfortunately a main nerve to the foot, and eventually the puncture was to heal leaving a hollow scar that looks like a window to my insides. She will remember her scar for the rest of her life if even the tale takes on a more heroic nature with each passing year.

So nurse I played and made joke of all the while wondering if I can do this...if I can be this poor and watch her suffer my ministrations. I rinsed her wounds thoroughly and wrapped them in sterile toilet paper (can be made sterile in a glass bowl in the microwave for fifteen seconds and then allowed to cool) and surgical tape. I didn't have finger splints and did not want to "bandage" it and cut off the blood supply. This would need to heal slow and be drained often as it was sure to catch an infection which is a good thing really, and, yes, I will explain. You see deep wounds most often do result in infection which kicks in the body's immune system, and when they are small punctures like that of bites or small caliber gunshot, they fair well if they do. You want the wound to stay open to drain as it will swell and without proper draining the tissue becomes necrotic fast resulting in gangrene. You will know gangrene has set in by the smell of the wound long before the tell tale colors of dead tissue. So far, twenty-four ours later, she is in great pain and fine. I had to play devil's advocate and facilitate the drainage by squeezing it and palpitating it from the wrist outward to encourage fresh new blood and new antibodies to flood the affected area. Ibuprofen keeps most of the swelling down, but draining it is imperative and cruel. Harsh is a better word, so with a towel in her mouth to ease the noise factor of her anguish, I did just so and relieved the pressure before her finger decided to burst on its own. Four times today and wrapped it again to allow it to sweat tonight and keep the tissue moist.

Tomorrow I expect the middle finger and thumb to have settled down as they were swollen too from just being neighbors to her poor finger. It is hard to be forced to such barbaric medicine and I am thankful for the confidence I have and the knowledge I know will save her. The good news is even if she can't recall this medicine a week after it is all healed, I know she will if her mate or her child requires it. We as "humanoids" are able and capable of healing ourselves and taking care of these things but through the advent of modern science and automatic equipment people have lost this knowledge in the backs of their memories in the closet marked "Never to Use Again." If mobe is right, Lobo's finger will be white around the opening of the wounds and tender and slightly swollen still oozing from the puss and infection but not as much as before. The "whiting" of the edges of a wound is a good sign to look for in a healing wound. I hurt with her and pray to the fates that the knowledge I do have isn't tainted by lack of use in the last decade or so. But I know she will pull through.~mobe's love to her all and her all to her loves.

Feral Pain

the summer's moon brings pain and torture to the shape-shifter's flesh. Hovering into the darkness in a cove and backed into the corner, she lies writhing and clawing at her tissue as it defies reason and humanity. Beside her lies her kit whimpering endlessly just under the noise and growls of its mother's own tormented wails. The poor babe is in pain as she witnesses her mother's plight and feels the gravity pull at her bones and teeth instructing them to bend to its will. They are feral...in the night.

Life is short for these two but not without its rewards of the flesh and mind. They keep ever so innocuous but right in plain sight and not once has anyone outed them for the vile beasts they would be labeled. Shelter is taken at the first sign of distress, of pain. No mites or alien substances, just the defiant cells that define and foretell their truth, their inhumanity. It is painful this night. The older beast clawing and gnashing and bringing blood to the surface. Her kit howls again and she can only growl back in what appears to be anger, but the kit knows all to well as understanding and guilt. She brought her pup to this existence and her heart fills with sadness knowing the life of pain that awaits her legacy. Her kind seek solace in these days, but as a mother she will stay with her young and accept her guilt and ride out the storm together so that her child will return the cycle with her own progeny.

It hurts so bad and the itching as the skin heals over and over is enough to drive her mad. She is tired, exhausted and weary from her ministrations to keep her wounds clean. Other lesser beasts appear to lick and clean her wounds but she bats at them between toothy rips into her own hide and then finally with her last bit of strength allows them to nurse her wounds. Her life's blood spills more for her own immortal betrayal than for the joust of another. Another pain stabs her head and she rubs furiously at the rock to make it stop and banging her head so loudly that with each thud her child cries, silently watching. Both have been sick as it is unseasonably warm for this time of year. Both have been poisoned by the very star they were born under and now their bowels have become a steaming cesspool of agony with nothing in them to bear. Food won't stay down at this time and nor will drink. They crave and starve in the silent sleep of absolute tiredness. They hunger and anger for the loss of meals and suffer should they defy what their bodies tell them and sup out of sync. They will starve and be near death before the torment lets up only to be renewed and wholesome and peaceful and graceful once again. These days are hell and no man, beast or bird will wish it upon their worst enemies. No thing will look upon them and not weep for them. They are damned, not of the soul but of the past and the curse played out in the bones of their ancestors. Tonight they die to be born again when the full moon wanes. Not human, not wolven and not wamphyric but a perverse combination of the three and regal above most all others they scent. Only now they resemble lowly peasants afflicted with plague and pestilence for some mythos-related abject crimes of their forefathers. Tonight their crowns are thorns and their robes are the tattered skin of their own punishment, for no one can punish them more than their own will does to them each and every four weeks. It is sad to see the mighty fallen to their knees and the invisible force mocking them and making them tear at themselves to escape the torment. To look upon their own grimace in a pool of water is to stare into the mad psyche of purgatory and the traumatic effects.

I wish this on no one. I wish it was me to tear the flesh of the inhumane who would mock these two. I wish to taste their blood and feel their life slipping between my teeth as I squeeze their futures from them. I wish to be free from this curse and to feel like I have a home, somewhere, with others. Only now....I lie in my dark cove in the back corner clawing deep gashes into my form and scratching my eyes and banging my head upon the rock where my forefathers may once have...and I see her, crying in her sleep and grasping her maw and rubbing her gums to soothe the bones pushing through. I weep in one final breathe before falling fast asleep, upon the wrong hour, vulnerable to the hunter of mine and dreaming of a prince who will be my king and the crown I have misplaced...~mobe's love to her all and her all to her loves.

The Passing of Youth

as parents we wear so many hats in any given day. We are teachers and diagnostic agents and coaches and best friends and sex educators and clergy to our little ones. As children we felt invincible and that our parents and elders didn't know squat about what was going on in our lives. It is hard to squeeze the generation gaps together because "youth" is unwise and will always see "age" as nothing more than ignorant and past. I see the world differently and it jades my vision, but you all should know that by now if you've been paying attention.

I get weary from all the hat changing I have done with my one child. And it still isn't enough as I find I choose to "mother" those around me in dire need of a slap upside the head! I have parented spouses and lovers and nephews and nieces and my own parents when they needed the swift kick. I have played nurse and doctor all the while wearing a priest's robe as I poked holes in my husbands finger, clean to the bone and in a circular pattern, to cut off the blood supply, from where he was bit by a brown recluse and praying this old wisdom worked and was blessed by the fates as good knowledge. To this day I am sure hubby number two has no feeling in the top of that finger and there is a recess where the tissue became necrotic for a short period and discolored, though there were enough invisible capillaries to feed it and keep it viable without passing the venom to other areas. His friend was not as lucky and almost lost his leg. I diagnosed the both of them and my hubby had seen my "work" on more than one previous occasion and tried as he could to convince his buddy I was good, his ignorance of youth cost him two muscles from his leg, for what was a small infected area no bigger than my beloved's finger. I laugh thinking about that as it is a prime example of how ignorant a person can be and how we undermine ourselves through close-minded thinking.

If I hadn't worn the hats I do, who else would care for the sick, preach to the lost, feed the hungry, embrace the unloved, comfort the sad, hold the grieved, teach the unlearned? I do these things everyday and my only unhappiness is in the fact that so many question me and I have no answers as to how and why I know the things I do, and the fact that no one is capable of educating me and haven't been for some time. I am alone and the last of a great generation who passed down their wealth of knowledge the way old aboriginal tribes do. All things pertaining to life and love and procreation and salvation was deemed and brought to the table of the elders to chew and masticate into smaller lessons for the people. Two young hunters go out to hunt a lion in the village and one comes back with tales of death and dismemberment. The village is in an uproar so they send out two more along with the first one who will serve as guide for he was the last one to see the feral beast in action. A day later one hunter returns with tales of death and dismemberment and the council of elders gathers together to discuss what they know. They exchange ideas and decide it is far too dangerous to track the beast on the ground and out in the open. They call for a festival and bring three of their greatest warriors and hunters to rub ash and pitch (for those of you who aren't a damn Yankee from New England, you can call it tree sap) and leaves and blades of reeds and all matter of earthen filth. They set out, one looking like the Serengeti's trees in his appearance, one dressed like the grassy edges of the watering holes and another still meant to blend in with the dry, golden, rocky terrain. They spread out and made noise and pushed the beast to a corner where he could not flee without passing one of the men. The tree dweller jumped on the beast's back and drove a crippling blow with a branch. The lion staggers as the earthen man trips him with the vines he bore as his weapon and finally, the grass man draws bow and arrow from his quiver and delivers the fatal shot from as short a distance as can be licked by the beast had it not been so bewildered.

The village rejoices and heralds the brave warriors who return of stench from their excrement and urine and fear. These men were boys, sober and proud and afraid. They were the strongest of their tribe but the weakest of mind. Everyone gathers around to hear the tale from them of their prowess and suddenly a little girl walks forward and asks "How did you know what to do? I would have been terrified!"

The three proud men, for they became men that day, stared at each other and glanced over at the council. They were ashamed of the glory they took and prostrated themselves at the feet of their forefathers giving thanks for the wisdom that guided them. Of course the wise men forgave them their pride and the celebrations carried on. But the unity of the tribe has been reinforced and made stronger. The boys were humble enough to pay homage to their masters and each one of them would seek them out on their wedding days and their children's birthing days and the days their wives and they had come to arguments. The circle was complete and they learned something then that has been lost today. They learned the value in their aged and wise ones who survived many lion attacks and many diseases and deaths, who survived life with the invisible badges of knowledge and strength of character.

I miss those days. I sat and listened to my grandmothers and grandfathers and mother and father. I did not believe all they spoke of because it was too fantastic to believe to my childish and headstrong ears. But I was fortunate to never forget the lessons taught me regarding keeping peace and healing the sick and teaching my young, as well as yours. Seek out wisdom from your elders and kinfolk in times of great need, but never forget to give credit where credit is due. Pay homage to the centuries of wisdom each holds and celebrate your victory alongside your masters.~mobe's love to her all and her all to her loves.

A Prayer For No One Important

it comes to pass when first and last shall meet betwixt the middle
and render still to have their fill of withered hearts and minds

do you suppose that days of old had simpler ways indeed
and ships that toss and are not lost but tethered to the tides

the clouds that break with lightning strike and throw down fiery bolts
as godly tears will swell our fears to wash away the guilt

but darkness reigns where man daren't bane and creatures dance with glee
you'll find me there with child I bear around the fire's silt

my hope is weak and my will is strong and my back can take the cold
my heart is broke and my mind is gone but my sight believes what's seen

to hear a bird on morning's light and feel the rays of sun
and smell the blood of foes undone will send the self careen

to swerve to die to leave to fly the winds of change will blow
head hung low upon furrowed brow with worry on my face

there must be a way to make some fey thoughts that comes to mind
will save us from disaster's ball and take us from this place

Individuals: Part 23

schooling I think is in order. I need to do something to propel myself forward and dig myself out of this rut. The government is not willing to aide me that I know of yet and to wait two months to get out on my own is unacceptable. I need to get a home put together for Laurel and I if it kills me, and I'm sure there are some who think it will.

The idea of needing schooling stems from the fact that there is no occupation to which I can be cleared from. I am not allowed to be around other people and to work customer service is asking for a melee of problems to occur. At the end of this month it will be eight months since we lost our home and in these eight months we have been making family uncomfortable and being put in uncomfortable situations where our freedoms and privacy has been compromised. Social Security Disability will be no more eventually and I am waiting on word at to how and what they deem is disabled enough. My private insurance wants me to go through vocational rehabilitation, but with the parameters of what I must do per my disorder to live, it would seem close to impossible unless I become a ghost writer or do something from the darkness at home. Office work is out and so is production and assembly and customer service is a "no-no" because I am not well of mind enough to tolerate people's stupidity without opening my big fat mouth! So unless I can do data entry from home or phone work on an as per basis(which I don't want to do; been there, done that with the adult entertainment industry), there really is nothing I can do but sit and think and watch my life dissolve into the nothing that my heart and mind have become.

I feel guilty because I am dragging Lobo down with me and I give her no hope for a future in what she has seen with me. It fills me with rage still and it makes me sick to my stomache when I want to give her so much and have but do so mostly alone. Her own father giving her so little and taking it all away when he throws a fit, leaving me to carry the load. Only the load is too heavy and I have to rely on a child's aide who should be having fun and going to the movies and swimming and all sorts of recreation this summer. And the best I have given her is a few trips to the pier to go fishing. I can't spend money even if I have it because I am watched like a hawk because I cannot afford to pay rent where I am at and they watch every cent I bring in, even food, and judge me as "holding out" on them or lying about my means. It has come to this. I know I must do something and I think trying to do medical transcription or legal transcription may be the only way to support my child and give us freedom and our own home.

I was hoping that the Social Security would open doorways to free medical for me and probably low cost housing but now can't wait. I would be eligible for food assistance as well according to my income but none of this can come to pass unless two men who don't know me from Adam decide if they think I CAN work, let alone whether there is viable work in today's economy. Five applicants per job means much walking around and wasting money I don't have on gasoline and office supplies and time and ailing health by the light of day to go look and compete for one of those jobs. And no one wants a cripple with issues or a single mom and I am both. (*holds head in hands and cries...looks up to see Lobo walk in and wipes tears from her face) I love my kid more than air and I have failed her and she still loves me and smiles and I feel like I don't deserve it at all.~mobe's love to her all and her all to her loves.

Hospitality Only Goes So Far

hospitality is the act of offering assistance and time or location to a person or persons at a small sacrifice to your own person. It means you have put yourself out somewhat in order to aide those less capable of means and ability than you. It does not mean it is a reason to watch and degrade and horrify them into submission of sorts.

People have forgotten what it means to help a fellow man or woman. In my own family they have forgotten. I witness people and friends who are capable of doing so much, do so little and judge me who has done quite a bit when I was able. I have sacrificed for others but not receiving such for myself. We are homeless and forced to "double-up" with family. I have been living in a prison where I am watched and ordered and shouted at like I am an ignorant child. I have owned my own home and lost it because of divorce. I have been working full time since I was eleven years old and paying taxes since I was sixteen. I have watched family members and friends who say they love me but would love nothing more than to knock me down a peg, when I have already fallen a fathom! This has happened before with my baby sister. I have forgiven her but remember the sting of how angry she was and how needy she was to get back at me for doing better than her at one time. No one likes to see someone they know succeed. They don't like to see strangers succeed either.

I know it isn't courteous to expect things for the things you do. But by human nature's standards we all do it, even the few of us not entirely human. But I make a point of trying to do it less and to be a generous heart. I am a generous heart. I do see how others can be jealous and how they can retaliate and though I am hurting right now, all I want is to walk away without losing everything and my kid. Right now I am in a situation where the person who is aiding me wants to make it known to my child they are only doing so because they feel they "owe" me and this aide is coming at a great cost to my health and well-being with the violence and threats and shouting occurring in the home. We are not safe here. The children who live here are not completely safe here, though much safer than myself and my child. Things have been thrown around and smashed on purpose and these things not belonging to them. Yes, there has been accidents with the numbers of animals we have combined, but never once have I deliberately destroyed their property, nor have I accidentally on my own done so in carelessness(but smiling because I knew the outcome and it brought me satisfaction to see them suffer)the way it has been for us. Not one but two expensive airline approved collapsible pet carriers totaling one hundred and fifty dollars, two fishing poles(one replaceable if we had the money to replace it), my bed, some bookcases, plenty of personal effects of my daughter's, dishes thrown in the trash or smashed that belong to me, countless trips in my car on my car's tires and gasoline when their's did not work, my sleep and time, the volunteering of myself or my child for duty because they choose to flaunt the little money they have over what we have and feel we should work for them as slaves because we live here, the forced indentured tenure of my daughter because I myself cannot do the work to which they wish done, one broken arm and one broken finger trying to help them and received an ungrateful "You broke my tv"(they have three already and were given this dinosaur that weighed over four hundred pounds), my nerves and a resurfacing ulcer, my kid's fears...it adds up. The things they have took possession of that belong to me and my child and the constant reminder that we are not welcome, but if they need something we have they take it and that is welcome.

I am fed up. If they should read this and recognize who they are they need to know there is a special place in hell and my heart for the damage they have done. I should have given Lobo to her dad and just lived in my car! Nowhere to go and No one to help me I am stuck in this prison of ungrateful and spitefulness. This is my plea to the fates that be: Grant me peace and serenity to pull through this ordeal. Grant Laurel Ann the wisdom to push this back and not let it affect her in her future as my past has wrecked my own. Give her a good life and me a decent ending to mine. Allow that justice be served in your time and not let my person become filled with rage and spite for the wrongs done to us. Let me sleep one day at a time and peacefully so when I awaken so I am refreshed and clear of mind enough to do something for us that will propel us forward. Let me lie with a sound heart and not succumb to the ills that would cause strife for us all. And finally, I pray all the time that the fates remember I hold them dear in my heart and that my appreciation still goes forward even though I am set back.~mobe's love to her all and her all to her loves.

Individuals: Part 22

for the last several days my sleep has been affected by my nightmares. I have tossed and turned in my upheaval and had an early day of it yesterday. I had a court hearing, closed, in front of a judge and a reporter along with my two advocates.

I had to spill my life's history and not just the medical aspect either to them. I had to go into infinite detail of the horrors I have faced to substantiate my mental instability and to explain my genetic disease. I found it most funny that when discussing this issue they have problems, just like everyone else, in understanding my needs and what ails us. They, being the judge and a vocational assessor via telephone, have to decide my viability for working based on my medical history and my mental one as well. They had a tremendous time determining what is considered safe levels of direct and indirect sunlight/daylight/artificial light to a sentient being not able to be in any light. It was pointed out that I was in light to be there and I smiled wryly and asked "Do I have any other options?" I also pointed out the world was not designed for me and my daughter and the fact that my poor state of health and my doctors' refusals to allow me to return to work has put me in the "poor house" and homeless and in a violent situation that is stressful to say the least. I guess three strokes in five years wasn't good enough, they can prop me up at a desk in absolute darkness to answer phones between the hours of sunset and sunrise and get me home before the sun comes up. The issue is they feel I have already been in the light so no harm no foul in their eyes. They cannot see my pain, they cannot see my damaged bones and liver and cannot feel what I feel. So like all other people who think they are gods but are as ignorant as new babies, they deem me as "well"and capable...well, they're trying to.

My case is most unique and unprecedented. There are others like me with erythropoietic protoporphyria but the majority of them have been under a doctor's care for the bulk of their life. Some even wealthy enough to afford the special film for the home's windows and the car's too. Some wealthy enough to afford the special cooling and light blocking clothing manufactured here in the US. These people have had their whole lifetime to understand their disease and to get used to the way of life that is a necessity for us. I have had a year and a half and Lobo a year. Even though I have tried my best to avoid lights of all sorts-mostly sun, I just was not prepared for the necessity of it and the deathly possibilities should I refuse. We are still adjusting to the medication regimen and the avoidance and dressing from head to toe in the summer and planning my day around my disease. I have always been sick and for the most part avoided the sun, but now I know it is a matter of life and death, so the need to do so is far greater than it was two years ago.

The part I find funny is the phrase about my being out in the sun to get there and being under fluorescent lights while there. If a person cuts their finger off it doesn't make it okay for their occupation to take the other seven fingers because well, they lost one and are doing fine! Because I am forced to go out in the sun to bank, go to court, do other business and seek medical aide then they are trying to determine what is acceptable for me to do via light when it has been prescribed and explained that NO light is optimal.

The unprecedented nature of this is in the fact the hearing took far longer than was anticipated because though they have all the facts in front of them they still cannot wrap their heads around the first and foremost fact, and that is we DO exist. It challenges people's fundamental beliefs and their ideas of mythology as well as their personal religious views. They will be taking from six to eight weeks to further investigate what they think my needs are and substantiate my going back to a job I no longer have, without medical clearance from my psychiatrist and other medical professionals, to ease the burden of the taxpayers(I am one)and spare the government from having to take care of an already sick and dying woman. Life is not good in mobe's perspective and it doesn't look to be getting better any time soon. I wonder who else in this world has to jump through the hoops I have had to in order to live and raise a child alone?~mobe's love to her all and her all to her loves.

Individuals: Part 21

and the waiting game ensues. It wouldn't be too much of a grasp if it wasn't for the situation that we have found ourselves in. It simply is awful and there is not much of anything that can be done about it at all. We have been homeless now for going on eight months and it seems that we are going to stay this way indefinitely. Which isn't what worries me so much as where we are crashing. We aren't welcome here and it has been brought to our attention on more than one occasion that we are wanted out. It is so rude when a grown adult is too chicken shit to come to the adult in the family but instead wants to make the child feel like a piece of shit in the hopes that will force the mother/parent to fight, thus giving them the perfect(so they think)reason to "out" them in their perverse validation.

Things have been moving around the home we live. My daughter was instructed to start packing, though I had not been informed of this. Hell, she was also informed that my monetary situation has become a burden to them though they do not pay my bills and I add a little something(granted not much)to the household. Where once was thousands of dollars of supplies now exists little. Where once was a thousand dollars of groceries has been nickel and dimed, and I am told it will be put back but they cannot seem to do that when they spend what they don't have before they don't get it. I am at my wit's end. My own father would rather take in complete strangers than his own daughter(who has never been arrested or done an ill deed towards him, and is currently NOT doing drugs or drinking any longer -not that it was a burden to anyone considering I have been sober for the most part for fifteen years+)and granddaughter. And there is no room at the inn in Bethlehem for us two wayward souls. I fear I will lose everything.

My brother thinks my predicament is funny. He is one to bitch and gripe about everyone else's shortcomings but his own. The electric bill went sky-high when the water heater was busted because of a leak under the slab which flooded my room and destroyed valuables(paintings I kept in the closet)of mine. I never asked him to replace them but today, I sit in a "hot house" because MY refrigerator was broken and stayed on freezing and costing me over two hundred dollars in destroyed "fresh foods" and jacked his electric bill. I was allowed to sleep three whole hours before he ordered my daughter to come into my room and turn off the air. My room has no floor space and the only way to do this is to walk/crawl upon my bed...naturally I woke up. I tried to go back to sleep but found myself not being able to as the temperature rises only to find he shut my bedroom door and went into the living room to crank up his air after telling me I need to live in Alaska and I am wasting his money on the electric when he stands in the doorway to smoke with the door wide open so he can bother us and the neighbors at the same time! Then when he got called out on it he went into tirade number five thousand and went into his bedroom keeping me and Lobo in sweltering heat. He knows this affects my health and breathing and our disease as well, but who cares right? He's got ac in his room and a tv with cable that I pay for and uses the phone that I provide and the internet I pay for to do his work online as well as his recreation.

So I suspect that homeless is as homeless does and it may wind up being that Lobo and I will have to go to a domestic violence shelter again and lose our possessions. I told him I would leave my entertainment center for him unless he didn't want it, for him to tell me he don't need it because he has been given a better one. But he deferred to keeping it to use it as one for his children's room "once we get the fuck out." Leaves me and Lobo with our beds, my tv and several bookcases(we use as dressers and storage for all rooms of the house to save space)and our own personal effects.

I am in search of answers to my disability claim and they cannot come fast enough for him so he's "thrown us out" again, not that I pay heed. Of course should he raise a hand or such to my kid or me-it's game on and then he gets locked up and I leave and that will be that. I want out of here. I want to work. I want a normal life and a significant other who pays attention to me. I want things obviously I cannot have and already have lost so much...~mobe's love to her all and her all to her loves.

Coming Home

you wait for the entire time they are gone. You wait every day and diligently watch the clock all the while trying to think of a way to bring them home quicker. When your loved ones are gone you lament until they return. Some don't ever return and some return in a different condition than when they left. Lobo came home today...

I missed her dearly and was at my wits end when she was on vacation. This whole ordeal is a new walk for her even though she has lived it from the outside with me and my problems arising from it. Pretty much everyone who knows us knows I never liked the sunshine-bright light and that it never liked me. It wasn't like it was visible or externally manifested but the discomfort and my verbal description should have alerted someone decades ago that there was a problem. I'm simply water and the light is oil. But only recently Lobo was diagnosed a little over a year ago. I want her to take her health seriously but when she knows I have survived certain odds, it gives her a false sense of security making her believe she is invincible too. Only she isn't and she's a minor and she needs to defer to parental wisdom and consent for her activities. And on vacation I had no say. She was in the care of a father who knows she's sick and has had information made available to him, though he refuses to read or take in such information in the hopes it will exonerate him from having to act on the matter. But she had grandparents with her who should have known a full year ago about her disease and they weren't informed until after the plans were made and without opportunity to investigate when their granddaughter informed them of her genetic issue.

My issue is this. Who is responsible when a justice system allows a man who is refusing to keep his child safe and free from illness in the best of his capability and doesn't? It wasn't as if it would have affected more than the times that they did their activities but it cut into his sleep to honor her "night" lifestyle necessity. His needs were put before hers. They always are and still the courts see him as a fit father. Only now the damage he is doing is a slow progress of pain and suffering she is too innocent and young to comprehend and he is just refusing to recognize. The absorption she takes in now will have lasting affects for years to come and there is no law to protect her from his willful neglect and abuse. She knows she's not supposed to be out in the light and sun but what kid wants to forego a trip to Six Flags? My kid spent the last half of her vacation sick and unable to eat. She was burned on the outside as any normal kid would be in the sun all day that is as pale as her and I are. But she was "burned" on the inside far worse with our EPP and this is unjust. It's a mother's and father's job to keep their babies safe. This mother's hands are tied by the legal system and her child's father and her child's naive outlook on her disease based upon her mother's own unique circumstances.

Had it been me to neglect her I would be accused of Munchhausen's Syndrome and not for the first time either. It's funny how they put that label in bold print in her medical file but failed to put it as boldly when they corrected their horrible accusation. And her father seems to always know the legal loopholes that get him freed of any and all wrong-doings. So, if it was me to expose her to the very thing that poison's her you bet your ass I would be in lock-up today pending charges of child abuse and allegations of a mental illness I am incapable of. Who is looking out after MY little one?(walks away sadly to care for a yet still sick daughter just returned, but not in the same condition she was sent)~mobe's love to her all and her all to her loves.

Returning Sick

it's going to be a fabulous Sunday when it rolls in soon. I have been waiting and not too patiently for her to come home. Lobo has had fun and is sick from it. She will have to learn through the same school of hard knocks you and I have that she has boundaries and to cross them means to suffer however immensely the fates deem proper.

I can blame her father and I can blame myself for giving her this disease or I can blame whomever but it all comes down to what matters most to her and what she plans to do with her life. She can't wallow in the sun and pick flowers in the daytime anymore than most of you would swim in a pool of sulfuric acid(yes I know some would just 'cause)while it eats away at your flesh. She will have to accept who and what she is like the rest of us and decide for herself if those boundaries are worth crossing and when they are worth it.~mobe's love to her all and her all to her loves.

Another Wrinkle In...

time is important to everyone, especially their own. But some people feel that other's time is not as important and see no need to be courteous or proper when wasting another's time. It is damaging and affects more than themselves and the person they take advantage of. It affects a person's worth and esteem.

I try to be effective and not waste other's time unjustly. It is part of that side of me that I hate and love for the same reasons. I love to care about people and I chastise myself constantly for doing so because it would seem I am the last person anyone wants to be considerate of. I feel that I am burdensome or that others are so short-sighted and unable to see or comprehend how the world does NOT evolve around them alone. For that reason alone I acquiesce to a time unto myself where I am alone with my thoughts and filled with this disdain for all things living and dead and seem to find a happiness within the dark that is me. I am complete. And I am completely imperfect and though I quest to be as such I accept it merely a journey and not necessarily a begin-all/end-all to my existence. I waste my own time.

I am even accused of wasting others' time and maybe they're right. But I do so willingly and consciously knowing I am doing it. In a way it is a form of retaliation for the shit and drivel that has come down the river of life. In my own arrogance I defer to a higher power in that they themselves have been wasting my time ultimately for years. Certainly you must agree when you look back on your own life and when someone comes along that just steals your breath away and then plays the silly little games of love and rejection it is a waste of time no one can survive. And there is the conundrum. I am there again making excuses for their poor behavior and allowing them to fill my time instead of my life and heart. So today, with all the time I have wasted this week doing nothing in particular, I have decided to reflect on the things that matter only to me. Great idea huh?~mobe's love to her all and her all to her loves.

Failing the Family Unit: The Caylee Marie Anthony Story

is it a matter of guilt or innocence or should it be a matter of culpable neglect? It is presumed one is innocent here until proven guilty, and we would all like to think that is how the system is run but significant changes have changed the way things are done.

In the old days it was a matter of "he said/she said" and the belief that the person could do it. And now it seems we have slipped into the old mentality of long ago. Media and music and paper and video make it all to easy for "Joe Public" to prosecute, judge, convict a person based on very little evidence at all. Keep in mind that when you hear of an event or crime being investigated, they don't tell you about all the facts that were purged in the hunt for the truth.

I am a mother and I know what searching for facts can do as far as "convicting" my little one of whatever infractions she has done. I refuse to punish her unless I have a confession or viable proof as to what has occurred. Yes, there are times she gets away "scott-free" with her little misdeeds, but most often will come and tell me about it later and take her lumps or another day she will slip up and be found out. Today a woman was found innocent of a most heinous crime.

Her crime was that of killing her child to suit her own ends and terminate her responsibility of parenthood. Over the course of the last three years I have watched that state to which I live and the country to which it lies in slander and rake her over the coals. I myself considered her a failure as a parent and thought to myself out loud and quietly that if they can prove she did it, that no one would like to see her hang, fry, gassed or whatever more than I. But I reserved the thought of deciding she was a murderer. The truth was I wouldn't have wanted to be in her shoes for all the peanuts in Alabama! Once the evidence was unrolled and the child's body was recovered, she was subject number two, yes...you heard correctly-number TWO. There was a man before her who found the little girl that was subject number one and then, even still, she's two and a half because they speculated her tales about a nanny(non existent)thus making her two. So much evidence was recovered that you would think we had our woman.

Unfortunately, thinking gets us all in trouble and Casey Anthony was found not guilty on all three charges resulting in the death of her child, Caylee Marie Anthony. She was found to be guilty only of providing false information to a law enforcement officer on four counts and with her three years incarceration while waiting for her wheels of justice to spin, she has served more than what would be deemed her time. She will be a free woman come tomorrow, Thursday July seventh. She will be able to pick up her life and be dragged in and out of court in civil cases and also the possibility of lesser charges being brought into her future life to try and re-convict her to appease the unhappy masses. She has no home to go to having it been completely destroyed in the quest for truth, she may even not have any possessions left of her daughter's. She cannot go home to her parents' home either. That bond was broken violently in the need to construct her case. She cannot go to the town over, a friend's house a new job and new state. She would be better off staying in jail, and having the option to bail out, she chose to sit there the next day to await sentencing because she knows she has no one, nothing to take her in. Thank you media and the information highways and byways and the me mechanism of the whole circus.

My issue is this. We have spent millions of dollars to prosecute this woman, by all degrees who is a failure of a parent based upon her need and actions before and during the days her daughter was missing, and not one word has ever been mentioned of rehabilitation or counseling for her. It is obvious she learned her parenting skills from somewhere. It was even more apparent her mother and father know more than they are telling as her father admitted he failed not only his daughter but his granddaughter as well. Now I don't think she deserves the death sentence by far. I don't even think she deserves a life sentence, but based upon her actions I felt she was admitting guilt to some degree and so did a few billion others in this country. And yet we paid to feed her and clothe her and what-nots for three years, and we are letting her go without any intervention program to prevent this from happening again. She didn't want to be a mom. That was apparent and her neglect of her child and her flaunting of her freedom once the child went missing was our proof. So where was this child's father? Not once in three years have I heard anything about him in this deal or what he thought. Not once did I see evidence that he was an integral part in this raising of his offspring. It wasn't Casey's parents that failed her. It was us.

The "us" that teach our kids through popular music and exploitation of thug lifestyles and pimpin' ways that taught her and other women and men(like the father of the child)that to shirk their responsibility that it is cool. Taking for truth that the child drowned accidentally like the defense has claimed, she was negligent. With proper morals and rules to live by NO child will drown because no mother will answer her cell phone or go fetch a beer for her man while bathing, swimming with a child. My daughter is fifteen and I still am present when she bathes and within earshot of the bathroom in case I hear her fall. It is my duty to protect her and to keep her safe. It is never enough to teach them to write their names and walk away. I see mothers abandon their kids in the seats of carriages at shopping places to go a few steps over. I watched in horror as my own daughter kissed asphalt because her stepfather did this while we were getting the groceries loaded as I started the car. He walked home. All ten miles. And I learned I cannot trust anyone with the responsibility of watching over her.

We failed the system and these children daily. The teen television stars getting knocked up and being allowed to have things just because they can afford them and flooding our phones and computers and tvs with images of kissing in public and sex acts and drug and/or alcohol abuse is unacceptable. The parents who turn a blind eye because they want to live vicariously through this is unacceptable. The people who parade their five year olds in pageants dressed like twenty dollar country whores is unacceptable. Today this mom holds her head low for mothers everywhere like Casey Anthony. Not for my own shame and part, because no people, I am one of the few who actually teach her kid morals and take the tirade of abuse and temporary "hate" from her that we get when we've done our jobs properly. I hold my head and shame for everyone of you who didn't watch your kids, who chose a tv or computer as a babysitter or figured someone else will do your job or who couldn't ever say "No" to your precious child. Parenting isn't easy and being the bearer of bad news isn't either. Nobody wants to be told no. But it is your job to tell them that and yes, even to explain why you are telling them no and standing firm. Today we failed a little girl, her mother and a neighborhood. Today I am disdainful for the health and de-gression of the human family. Today a mother weeps for the child she is unable to care for until she comes home in six days....~soberly and morbidly yours, mobe...my love to my all and my all to my loves.

My Independence Day Hindered...

today is the day a group of rebellious and mostly illiterate individuals had the balls to stand up and say "No" and the fortitude to back it up, whether at a high cost or not. It is Independence Day for my American brethren, and though I am no patriot of any particular government faction, I do like a cause for celebration. So, what better a celebration than to kill animals over an open fire, pull up tubers and fry them in oil and spin sugar into tufts to make ourselves sick and sated with all the goodness that makes us "think" we are free.

Before you jump off the cliff with the rest of the lemmings, understand I do support ALL men and women everywhere who fight for whatever meager freedom they can scratch out from the oppressors whether they wear a suit or battle armour. I won't go to any great efforts today as it is a day to remind me of how not free I am. I used to love to take Lobo to the fireworks and packing a basket and cooler and clothes and such and making a day of it. Only now the "day" part is not allowed and her father saw himself an opportunity to oppress the woman he loved once who bore him the gorgeous child he only wants to see ten days a year and two weeks on her's and my "special" holiday. It is a day of remembrance and she is fifteen hundred miles away, dropped off at his parents' house while he goes partying in the woods, thus separating her and her momma. No barbecue, no red-white & blue outfits and no quality time. He wanted to take this time as his, breaking a tradition for her and I(the last five years he's done this to anger me and the first ten we had a well established ritual) in the hopes he will generate some spark of affinity with her that will equal my love for her, and then abandons her to family that never calls(ever)throughout the year to see if she's alive.

I am angry and alone today despite a house full of nieces and nephews. I want to be supportive of soldiers and freedom, but I just can't put on the colorful bow-tie and sing Yankee Doodle Dandy when I feel I am punished and not free from the harassment and ire that we have for each other. Yes, I am in counseling and it is quite normal to suffer a loss during a special occasion so this is my "boo-hoo" parade.

I hope tonight when I am watching Craig Fergus-...(oops)...Michael Chiklis and the Boston Pops Orchestra show the rest of the country how to be thankful, that she is watching it or thinking of her momma. I hope that all the soldiers and their families know that two people, contriving up a very small family tree, are appreciative of their sacrifices, despite their anti-war stand. I am no fool. My father and sister and all three husbands served, and there isn't a man, woman or child who doesn't have someone in their life or who had been in their life who served. Lobo's godmother, Lori, was in the Gulf War and my pop was in Viet Nam. I love them dearly, even if I don't understand why/what/who/when/where & how they came to the decision to fight for a country in other parts of the world when there is so much work to be done here to make ourselves better. So, I agree to honor(but not obey *giggles)those sacrifices and tip my "hat" to you. All are welcome in my heart and all are loved no matter what.

Happy Fourth everyone and stay safe, drink a few less than you plan and love the ones your with...~mobe's love to her all and her all to her loves.