Occupy MY Street

my best friend knows me so well. She has been hounding me to get off my proverbial ass and write again...and I have been thinking. It's what I do best and I don't like where my thoughts have led me...this is what has been on my mind...

Occupy MY Street!
Some days it just isn't worth the bitch and/or moan. There are things so beautiful and complex about humans that it keeps drawing me in. My only sadness is in the fact that I may not have had enough opportunities flow to me (maybe I just squandered those that did-who knows?) to be able to reward the faulted efforts of the deserving when they need it. I have no philanthropic endeavors but wish I had. Maybe, just maybe I am "good enough" to be published, sell my soul to the devils who will pay and take the monies and give it all away, save college and a home for Lobo. 


I see people from all walks of life, my ninety-nine percent, and feel like reaching out and placing a kiss on their forehead and wishing (or is it whisking?) away their strife. There's this overwhelming sense of inadequacy that washes over me. Deep down inside your favorite monster is motherly on a grand scale. It gets her into too much trouble and is the root source of her unhappiness as well, when they bite the hand that feeds them. Today I met a sweet girl wrought with her own trouble and worry but not one wrinkle or tear or frown on her face! At once I was in awe of her inner beauty and listened to and spoke with her about her purpose for "being." I became jealous for an instant, not having been able to be at peace and smile as she does. But the jealousy would soon be brushed aside and faded fast. Replacing it was the want to hold her and her child, to adopt them as my own and aide them. That's just not in the cards for me today.


Social interaction is becoming so prevalent a part of my id that I am choked up on a continual basis and flaming fucking mad when my wheels turn and comprehension sets in about how her own kind, humanity has failed this young woman and her son. She is your ninety-nine percent too! She dotted all her "i's" AND her "j's" and crossed every "t." But the system is flawed and her network and family crashed under the strain. Did she cry? No. Has she complained? I don't know but she hasn't to me and I'm smart enough to read between the lines. She struggles, works two jobs and has a child who is ill and will not improve only having half his brain after over twenty surgeries before the age of three and blind as well. She cannot place him in daycare because of the nature and dangers involved with his disability. She gets some help but the medical bills bog her down. She's even in school. Her family is angry with her because they don't like the child's father, so they refuse to aid her because of a bad choice she made. She goes it alone, left her home in GA and came to FL so the father (now clean and sober and an exemplary parent) can co-parent with her. They will not reunite because of their differences but get along better than my own parents have or even myself and my child's father who rarely puts his child first. 


People are so self serving and cruel. They have been this way awhile but the numbers, or rather percentages are climbing. I don't get how this happened by accident. I don't believe in most accidents. It wasn't an accident when a drunk kid crossed an interstate median and crashed head-on at full speed into the Elmore's sedan that fateful night some decade ago when my dear friend, Larry, just happened to be on the phone with his mum while his father drove home. They both died, not an accident, he at the scene and his wife about a week later from her injuries. They were old and for the most part by each other's side in the end but their son (one of) of now sixty years old still grieves despite the years that have passed. He was very close to his parents, unlike myself. While on the phone his mom told him she loved him and that she would see him the next day when they came to visit, then the phone connection was lost, terminated. Larry's television was not accidentally on the news. The helicopter did not accidentally wait until the bodies and injured were removed before zooming in to the wreckage on I-4 outside of Tampa. He still isn't sure how he made it to my house that night, only that he insisted on driving with his own wife by his side through his tears and grief in the evening. He fell out of his car and I wound up counseling him for over a year.


What I'm saying is it wasn't an accident. That kid didn't accidentally drink. The bar he left didn't accidentally serve alcohol to an inebriated man. He didn't accidentally get in his vehicle and it certainly didn't accidentally move of its own accord. It was no accident he was on I-4, nor was it that Larry's mother and father had been. They, all three (man in the pick up and his two parents) were all on their way home from a night out. Brittany's family didn't accidentally forget her. Her child's father didn't accidentally screw up and her community didn't accidentally turn its back on her. The governments around this world don't have accidents either. The Gulf of Mexico spill was just such a "not" accident. Stock market crash, Chernobyl, the Japanese meltdown of 2011. Sure the last two had mother nature's hand in it but she didn't accidentally create the nuclear reactors!


There's a whole other side to that ninety-nine percent too that many people forgot. Some of the "99" are intelligent, equal to that or even surpassing their one percent peers! They just have been playing by the established rules and are also financially too crippled to do anything to aid their families and communities. While profits skyrocket for the one percent who DON'T play by THEIR established rules. I am that ninety-nine percent. And I can barely keep myself and my child fed, but I have this want to collect and be able to care for all the lost children, kittehs and pups that fall in the majority. My bosom is not as large as it is for sexual purposes. Actually the larger they are the less sensitive they are for that pleasure. They are there to cleave, hug, hold, comfort and cradle the sorrow of others, the hurt and the lost.


I get lost in that, my apologies...So much has been done and so much needs to be undone. Too many people are telling you what to do and how to do it but won't pick up a rake themselves to clean up this mess. Yes, there are some and most of that some comes from us. The poor aiding the poor. Brainwash complete with the aftertaste from the corporate soap they themselves (the one percent) won't wash their dogs in. It makes me want to regurgitate yesterday's sponsors in their faces! 


Now I have to think. Think about my thoughts and the conundrum before me. Deep down inside I have always wanted a bit of notoriety. I think everybody does to a point.  But I've held back all these years, never sure others would appreciate my madness in ink as I do. Oh don't get me wrong, I think I am fabulous, but I also am wise enough and aware that what I think and write is not for everyone. So I have to justify. Do I have a right to meddle so late in life? Will I have the living time left to make a difference? What about strength, will and economy? I have to contemplate if it is all justified. For now I take the middle of the herd in that ninety-nine percent (adding four more mouths to feed as I take in my ex and his children to help them and combining households to help each other). My time is donated when I can afford to as well as my means. Maybe I could be like the race-car driver of philosophical writers, will you sponsor me? *giggles ~mobe's love to her all and her all to her loves.